Robyn Donald – Iceberg (22 page)

His voice was bland, but before she could reply he went on, 'You'd better go down tomorrow and tell the

librarian you can't take the position. It's only fair to tell her before you let the City Council know. Now, do you

know your mother's telephone number?'

'My mother's------? Yes, I do. Why?'

'I imagine she'll want to know before anyone else,' he observed mockingly. 'We'll put the call through now.'

As he dialled, he kept his eyes on her, daring her to protest at this assumption of power. After the first

involuntary gape, Linnet said nothing. She had given him the right to take over her life, so it was useless to feel

outraged by this show of calm efficiency.

It took only seconds before he handed the receiver over to her, saying in a low voice, 'Try to sound a little more

cheerful than you look, Linnet'

Fortunately it was her mother who answered her light voice forcing Linnet to realise just how much she missed

her.

'Is everything all right-" she demanded sharply after the first exclamations of joy. 'Darling, are you well?'

'Yes, Mum, fine. Couldn't be better. As a matter of fact,' trying to ignore Justin as he wrote something on a

memo-pad, 'I've just got engaged.'

'Engaged’.
But Linnet—love, you've only been over there a few weeks!'

'He's a fast worker," Linnet told her, infusing her voice with what she hoped was the right amount of joy and

wonder. 'His name is Justin Doyle.'

'What's he like?'

Wilfully ignoring the real meaning of her mother's question, Linnet let her glance rove over the man before her.

'He's about six feet two, with fair hair and very pale grey eyes, he's
very
handsome-r-' with a wry emphasis he

could not miss—'and be is very rich.'

'Linnet!'

She laughed then, as much at the faintest suggestion of colour in Justin's skin at this catalogue of his physical

attributes as at the shock in her mother's voice. 'Mum, he's standing here listening, so you can't expect me to go

into a rapturous description of his virtues. It's bad for discipline. But he has an enchanting seven-year-old

daughter called Sarah, so you'll have an instant step-grandchild.' 'Linnet, I'm coming straight across—tomorrow if possible. Now, please put him on. I want to speak to him.'

Linnet handed the receiver over, submitting with something perilously like pleasure as Justin pulled her towards

him. She allowed herself to relax, her head resting against the width of his shoulder.

'Mrs Perry? he said quietly. I’m Justin Doyle.'

The little voice at the other end chattered for a few seconds; Justin smiled. I’m quite harmless, I promise you.

And I certainly know what I'm doing. I'm thirty-one. I know we've only known each other a short time, but I'm

convinced that Linnet is what I need to make me happy.'

He sounded it, too; top marks for acting, Linnet thought sourly, suddenly exhausted and sickened by the blatant

deception. She made to move away, was held in place by-a merciless arm across her waist.

'Oh yes,’ he was saying now, all smooth positiveness, 'she'll be happy with me; Yes, I'd be pleased if you could

come, but you must allow me to fly you over—'both of you, of course. I can put you up, as well. Bronwyn's flat

is too small. My office in Sydney will contact you when arrangements are ready. Yes, I'll put her on. Goodbye,

Mrs Perry.'

Linnet took the receiver again. 'Hello?'

'Well, he
sounds
very nice, Linnet. Are you sure, my dear?'

"Yes, I'm quite sure.' The lie stuck in her throat but she swallowed it manually. 'Will you both come over?'

'Yes, of course. Goodbye, my darling.'

After she had replaced the receiver Linnet stood for a long moment while her throat ached with a need to be

comforted, to be loved as she loved him.

Tears?' he mocked, turning her to face him. 'Are you still harbouring the remnants of an adolescent passion for

your stepfather?'

'Bronwyn told you,' she said without surprise.

'Yes, Bronwyn told me. What is he like, this husband of your mother's?'

'Very nice,’ she retorted, angered by the cruel note of cynicism in his voice. 'Gentle, kind, compassionate…’

To her horror tears did gather behind her eyelids.

Sniffling inelegantly, she wiped them away with the back 'her hand, 'not daring to look at him in case she broke

f down and bawled like a baby.

'Everything I'm not,' he taunted softly. Tough luckr r Linnet. You've made your bed; now you'll have to lie in
it.

And if you know what's good for you there'll be no repinings.'

'I'm not afraid of your threats,' she retorted, wincing as his hands dug into the softness of her waist. 'I didn't

make my bed, I was blackmailed into it. You might own me, but you'll never own my brain. I can think what I

like.’

'Oh, certainly," he laughed deep in his throat and kissed her, taking his time about it as he explored her mouth

with the deliberate sensuality she so feared and hated.

At first she was rigid, refusing to respond, but her needs played the traitor and with a soft moan she brought her

hands up to clasp his shoulders, swaying against, him so that she was aware of his potent masculinity and men

she was free, cold and trembling in the humid air.

'I don't imagine that you'11 be thinking of anyone other than me when we make love," he told her bluntly,

seeming to enjoy her humiliation. 'Fight it as much-as you can. Linnet, you're ready and ripe for love.'

'I despise you!'

'You don't despise me, you despise yourself, and that's your problem, not mine.'

'I might be frigid,' she cried, trembling with suppressed desire.

Justin smiled. 'I doubt it. You're a passionate creature in spite of your lack of experience. That's impossible to

fake.'

'I might not be so lacking in experience.' She whirled around to face him, trying to look worldly and

experienced. 'You don't know that I'm a virgin.'

"What's that got to do with anything?' His laughter was sardonic. I’m not a virgin, Linnet, and that doesn't worry

you, does it?'

'It would worry you if your wife had slept with other men,' she retorted shrewdly.

His expression hardened into a mask, ruthless, almost savage. 'My wife, yes. But you'll be faithful to me— I’11

see to that. As for what's happened before—' his, massive shoulders lifted—'dial's nothing to do with me. I'm no

hypocrite; I haven't been exactly chaste. At the same tune— he observed calmly, 'I'm no fool either, and I know

damned well that any experience you've had has been confined to a few kisses.'

'You
don’t
know!' she flared. Anger and desperation, the closing of all avenues of escape, made her reckless SO

that she scarcely knew what she was saying.

He looked her over, as she stood, slender and straight before him, her emotions turning her eyes into pools of

molten gold, the lips he had kissed flushed against the pale gold of her skin, red hair gleaming. In spite of his

immense self-control his chest heaved with the sudden acceleration of his breathing, but whatever she had

aroused in him was crushed, stillborn.

'Stop, behaving like an idiot,' he said caustically, turning away to pick up the memo pad again. 'Sarah's tantrums

are enough for one family.'

'Oh—oh!' Furious at this contemptuous dismissal, she found that she had to clench her fists tightly to stop

herself from flying at him and belabouring him with all the strength of Her frustration. 'I
loathe
you!'

'And I'm just about sick of you,' he retorted. 'What the hell do you want me to do? Prove to you that you're a

virgin? Are you trying-to make me jealous? If that's it, give it up, Linnet, before you find out that the game's

not worth the candle,'

Something in his voice brought her back to cold sanity. 'As Alison found out?' she asked after a long tense

moment.

His silence became dangerous. With his back to her he seemed threatening, yet there was nothing but cool

agreement in his voice when he answered, 'As Alison found out Why does Alison worry you so much, Linnet?

You can't he jealous of her, that would mean that you love me, and you've told me you don't. Have you heard

that scurrilous bit of dirt about her committing suicide?'

'I've heard it,' she answered honestly, 'but I don't believe it.'

"Why not?'

'Anna happened to mention that she loved Sarah. She .wouldn't have tried to kill herself with her in me car.'

‘Y6u’re right, of course,' he said, turning to face her. 'Alison loved life too much to take her own. Incidentally, I

hope I1 don't need to tell you that Sarah has no idea of this—and God help-anyone who tells her!'

'Do you think I'm likely to?' she asked scornfully. There .had been no expression in his voice, but she felt

suddenly cold.

"I'm just warning you. Now,’ with an abrupt change of tone, "have you had any dinner?'

'No. Sarah wanted me with her, and I wasn't hungry.'

'Then I suggest you share mine. Anna will be delighted to set another place for you.'

'I don't think-----'

'Oh, for heaven's sake!' he snapped, his monumental patience cracking. 'Stop objecting to everything I suggest,

will you? Let's try to behave like civilised human beings for once.'

Linnet bit her lip as she flung her head up defiantly, but allowed herself to be propelled out of the room,

determined not to let him see just how much his anger affected her.

"There's a powder room in mere,' he said, stopping beside a door in the hall. 'Go and do whatever it is you need

to do to your face while I see Anna.'

The powder room was small and exquisitely decorated in gold and blue, an ornate little affair compared to the

rest of the house, as if the decorator and the architect had combined to produce one frivolous room in contrast to

the splendid austerity of Justin's taste. The light was excellent; too good, Linnet decided, peering at the tragic

countenance the mirror revealed. No wonder he had suggested she do something to her face! Delicate bones ,

were all very well, but they tended to sharpen one's features when under stress. She looked wan and miserable.

Nobody seeing her now would accept that she had just become engaged to the man she loved with all her heart.

To her horror tears suddenly brightened the depths of her eyes, replacing with a film of iridescence the gold

which seemed to have been smudged away. .

'You are
not
going to cry,' she hissed at her reflection, then-blew her nose, washed her face and combed her

hair, wishing fervently that she had the sort of hairstyle one could hide behind. Or that she had brought some

make-up with her to construct some sort of mask. Without anything at all to hide the too-open cast of her

countenance she was far too vulnerable.

Justin met her at the entrance to the living room, an enormous, beautiful room, the essence of sophistication

with its suede furniture in shades of cream and bone, travertine side tables and fireplace of cream stone. Above

it" was a painting, a Dutch landscape of the eighteenth century, the sparse, brilliantly executed foliage strangely

at home in the very modern room. '

'Who did your decorating?' Linnet asked after Justin had poured her a sherry.

One brow lifted. 'A friend of mine, Jan Duncan. I told her what I wanted, she drafted out a scheme and I

approved—or not. Why?'

The sherry was very dry, superbly so. Linnet lifted brooding eyes from contemplation of the amber liquid and

cast them around the room. 'It's the ideal background for you, she must know you very well.'

'She's an astute woman." He dismissed the subject as if it bored him. 'If you dislike anything, you can change it.'

Linnet stared, then shrugged, 'I wouldn't dare. Anyway,' as she saw his brows draw together, 'I like the room.

Especially that Chinese screen. Is it very old?'

She was gabbling, trying to prevent any more intimate conversation. Perhaps he sensed her exhaustion, for he

replied in kind and kept his distance.

‘Several hundred years. I have its history, if you're interested/'Most people find it too sparse.'

'Oh no,' she said impulsively, picking up an exquisite piece of moon-green pottery. 'It's beautiful—no excess at

all, and yet although it's so stark it's still human, isn't it.'

Oddly enough he seemed to understand her somewhat garbled words. "The Chinese saw everything in terms of

harmony,' he said, 'including man's relation with nature. That's why their landscapes are always humane. Also

why they're so popular, I believe. Now finish your drink, or bring it in to dinner with you.'

When she woke the next morning Linnet lay for a long time in bed, as if by not getting up she could hold the

day at bay. But Justin wanted her ready by ten, so at last, reluctantly, she climbed out and showered, her mind

recalling the meal last night.

Anna had already eaten; apparently she preferred to eat all her meals by herself, which meant that Justin must

also eat by himself. His meals were not exactly social occasions, Linnet thought wryly, even, when they were as

well cooked as that of the night before.

As if she had known something Anna had set a small table out on the terrace overlooking a side garden redolent

with the perfume of wallflowers and stocks. The table was a sensible size, not the usual rickety patio affair, and

it had been decorated with a bowl of early roses’ scentless, but exquisite in shades of pink and orange.

Justin had been a perfect host; there had been wine to go with the superb food, and after the coffee Linnet had