what?’ Kate looked at him in amazement, pushing back a stray wisp of hair that had escaped her topknot.
‘You heard me. I’m not going to wait on you all evening.’ He stopped at the door. ‘And wear your hair loose tonight,’ he ordered.
‘I will not!’ She faced him, a slender defiant figure in her fitted trousers and blouse. ‘I hardly ever leave my hair free.’
‘For me you will,’ he promised softly. ‘I love longhaired women. How long is it?’
‘Almost down to my waist,’ she told him sulkily. ‘And I don’t want to be classed with your women!’
‘I don’t have any women at the moment,’ he answered with some amusement. ‘Only a little girl that I’m finding more desirable every moment I’m with her. I like females that answer me back,’ he surprised her with this disclosure, ‘and you do little else.’
‘If I’d realised that I would have been so nice to you you would have longed to get away.’ The golden flecks were more noticeable in her wide brown eyes. ‘I wish I’d known!’
‘Too late,’ he laughed huskily.
Left alone in the kitchen, Kate had little choice but to wash the dishes and tidy them away. By the time she had finished Damien was back, dressed only in a black silk robe that reached just above his knees, his strong tanned legs bare beneath its short length, and the V-neckline showing her the thick dark hair that grew on his brown chest. He had obviously shaved, and droplets of water still glistened in his hair where he had showered.
He watched her over the flame of his lighter as he lit the long cheroot in his mouth, smoke drifting about the. room. ‘Your turn,’ he said softly, his green cat-like eyes never leaving her face.
She was disconcerted by his complete unselfconsciousness at his almost nakedness, her nostrils appreciating the aroma of the cheroot. ‘I—er—couldn’t you have dressed before coming back in here?’ she demanded defensively.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Why should I? I live here.’
‘Yes, but—but I’m here.’
‘So? I’m wearing more now than James was this afternoon, and yet you didn’t appear shocked then.’
‘That was different, and you know it,’ Kate accused. ‘Now we’re alone, and you—well, you aren’t dressed.’
Damien gave a half smile. ‘Come on, honey, I’m quite adequately clothed, and you’re just wasting time. It’s seven-thirty already.’
‘All right, I’ll shower and change. And for goodness’ sake get dressed!’
The smoke wafted about his head. ‘I intend to—in my own good time.’
Kate moved to the door, but he blocked her exit. Her eyes were riveted to the dark hairs on his chest and she couldn’t raise her eyes any higher, fearing the mockery in his eyes. ‘Will you let me pass, please?’ Her voice was a husky whisper and she cursed herself for her timidity. But he was so overpowering, so essentially male.
He moved slightly aside, but not far enough for her to pass through without touching him, and she didn’t want to do that. ‘Go ahead,’ he encouraged, smiling tauntingly.
Kate set her lips determinedly and brushed past him, her body coming into full contact with the hard muscle of his. She recoiled away from him instinctively, hating herself for her weakness. She walked hurriedly to the room Damien had given her to use, closing the door firmly behind her.
God, how he unnerved her! Much as she hated to admit it, it was an inescapable fact. She had met men like him before, arrogant, darkly attractive, but none of them had ever affected her as he did. She was constantly aware of him, mainly in anger, but sometimes as a vibrant attractive man who demanded attention unconsciously.
And he was attractive, much more handsome than most of the men who appeared in his films. He could almost have been a film star himself, in fact he had been at one time, until directing had interested him more. And he was good at his job, excellent in fact.
But he frightened her; she wasn’t up to the sophisticated games he seemed to be constantly engaged in. She didn’t need two guesses as to his interest in her, but under James’ guardianship she wasn’t even allowed to date the same man more than a few times, let alone indulge in promiscuous affairs. But she felt sure Damien Savage didn’t plan a platonic friendship between the two of them, it wasn’t his way at all.
What would she do if he tried anything like that on her? What could she do? She certainly wouldn’t give in to him. She couldn’t do that, although she was sure he could be very persuasive.
A warm shower and fresh make-up and she felt more confident of herself, and once she had on the figure-hugging black dress she felt a hundred per cent better. It was a strapless dress, finishing abruptly as it rested on her firm uptilted breasts, smoothing down over her narrow waist and slender hips. It suited her and she felt good in it.
Damien was in the lounge when she came out of the bedroom, looking handsome and sophisticated in black trousers accompanied by a blue velvet dinner jacket, the startling white shirt he wore opened casually at the neck. His eyes slowly travelled up her body, pausing momentarily on her breasts with a probing insolence, finally passing on to her face. She saw him frown in the subdued lighting of the room. ‘Your hair,’ he snapped, his eyes narrowed. ‘You didn’t listen to what I said earlier.’
‘I did.’ She held herself stiffly. ‘I just didn’t want to do it.’
‘Do it now,’ he commanded.
‘No,’ she shook her head.
‘Do it, Kate, or I’ll do it myself.’ He made a threatening step towards her. ‘And I probably won’t be as gentle as you would.’
She put up a self-conscious hand to her confined hair. ‘It looks a mess when it’s loose,’ she said uncertainly, put off by the determined glint in his eyes.
‘I mean it, Kate.’
‘But—but we’ll be late! It’s already eight-thirty, the car will be downstairs.’
‘It can wait, and so can the party for that matter.’ He stood firm, and she knew by the arrogant lift of his head that he wasn’t going to relent.
She threw down her evening bag angrily on to a chair, beginning to pull out the pins that secured her hair. ‘Oh, all right! But don’t blame me if you feel like drowning me halfway through the evening. This hair of mine seems to have a life of its own when it isn’t confined.’ She ran her hand through the long loose waves of her red hair, tumbling it down her back like a shimmering flame.
Damien’s eyes never left her. ‘Beautiful!’ he breathed softly. ‘I’m even more convinced that you’ll be photogenic.’
Kate was brushing her hair in long vigorous strokes, feeling it crackle with healthy life. ‘I’m not going to that screen test, you know,’ she tugged viciously at a tangle.
‘Why not? Frightened I meant it about coming back to my apartment for the night?’ he mocked her.
‘Not
