wouldn’t like the management to think you have young girls calling for you,’ she taunted.
‘Quite,’ he acknowledged tersely.
Her grin deepened. ‘Very well, Mr Earle.’
He looked at her parents. ‘I trust you have no objection to my talking to your daughter?’
‘No——’
‘None at all,’ Angela interrupted her husband. ‘As long as you do only talk. Any decision that’s made about Eden visiting David will obviously have to be a family one.’
Jason nodded. ‘I can understand that. Now, if you will all excuse me…’
Angela rang for the maid to show him out, keeping a tight-lipped silence until she was sure he was out of earshot. ‘The nerve of the man!’ she finally burst out. ‘The sheer nerve of the man!’
Drew wordlessly handed her a drink, watching her take a large swallow of it before he thought it safe to speak. ‘Not a man to oppose,’ he remarked softly. ‘I should think he’s broken people and not given a damn what happened to them. A man who likes to be in control—at all times.’
His wife’s blue eyes flashed angrily. ‘I didn’t ask for a breakdown of the man’s character—or an assessment of his sexual prowess.’
‘Mummy!’ Eden gasped.
Drew frowned at his wife. ‘That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.’
‘I suppose not,’ she grudgingly agreed. ‘Although remembering Isobel I don’t think you would be far wrong. I shouldn’t think she has a lot to offer in that direction.—All right, all right,’ she sighed at the censure in their faces, ‘forget I said that. But you do see why he annoyed me so much when he called this afternoon.’
‘Oh definitely,’ Eden said forcibly. ‘I thought he was horrible.’
‘And you, Drew?’ his wife enquired. ‘What did you think of him?’
He seemed to consider for a moment. ‘I thought he was—interesting.’
‘Interesting!’ she scorned. ‘What sort of an answer is that?’
He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t like to pass an opinion on him. On the surface he’s everything you said he was, but underneath—who knows? Jason Earle appears to me rather like an iceberg, ninety per cent of him below the surface.’
‘You mean that arrogance was only ten per cent of him?’ gasped Eden.
Drew laughed at her expression. ‘Maybe twenty,’ he conceded.
She shivered. ‘I hate to think what the other eighty per cent is like.’
‘I doubt if anyone knows that. He didn’t seem the type to let anyone even know what he’s thinking, let alone get close to him.’
‘Oh, don’t let’s talk about him any more,’ Angela dismissed. ‘He’s already ruined my lunch today, I have no intention of letting him do the same thing with my dinner.’
Despite her mother’s dismissal of the man Eden was aware of a tension about them all as they ate their meal. She felt sure their thoughts were all running along similar lines—her grandfather’s sudden wish to see her after all these years of silence. She had forgotten she had any other family than her mother and Drew, even taking Drew’s surname for her own. She knew her real father had died when she was five years old; driving too fast on a slippery road he had driven straight into a tree and been killed instantly. As her mother had pointed out, his second marriage had produced no children, hence her grandfather’s interest in her now.
She had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity about her family in England, a sneaky longing at the back of her mind to know exactly what sort of man her grandfather was. Her father must have been very weak to have been ruled by him as he had been, pointing to her grandfather having as forcible a nature as their visitor. No wonder they were friends!
And yet her grandfather hadn’t made one enquiry about her in eighteen years, had never even bothered to ascertain whether she was alive or dead. To turn around now and ask to see her, to expect her to drop everything and rush over to England, seemed to her to be the height of arrogance. Besides, didn’t her father’s second wife still live in the same house as David Morton? And Jason Earle was the last person to send to persuade her to take that flight; everything about him had antagonised her.
No, she had already told him she wouldn’t go and she meant it. Nothing he said to her tomorrow or any other time would make any difference to her decision.
She was waiting in the lounge when Tim arrived for their date that evening, putting down the magazine she had been flicking through to move into his arms for his kiss. He was two years older than she was, and they had been dating for the last six weeks. Not very long really, but longer than most of her boy-friends lasted. Perhaps it was because she spent so much time in her stepfather’s company, but most of the boys she dated seemed childish after a while, always trying to get her into an intimate relationship and finishing with her when they realised she had no intention of sleeping with them.
Tim was different, rich, self-assured, and very sophisticated for his age. She enjoyed his company immensely, found his light lovemaking pleasant, and hoped he felt the same way about her.
She laughingly smoothed away some of her peach lipstick from his mouth. ‘Must remove the evidence,’ she teased.
Tall and athletic, tanned skin, sun-bleached blond hair and the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen, Tim was every girl’s dream. He smiled down at her, that heart-melting smile that never failed to win over the women. Even her mother fell for it, approving of him wholeheartedly.
He placed his lips on hers again. ‘Mm,’ he sighed against her parted mouth. ‘I don’t give a damn who knows I’ve been kissing you.’
Eden snuggled against him. ‘Neither do I.’
‘Where are your parents tonight?’
‘Gone to the Merricks’ for the evening.’ She moved unhurriedly out of his arms.
‘Hey,’ he teased, flicking a curling tendril of hair away from her face, ‘I’m not about to attack you because we’re alone here!’
She grinned at him, pulling on her short white linen jacket. ‘I know you aren’t.’ Their lovemaking had never gone beyond a passionate kiss and a tentative caress.
Tim frowned. ‘I’m not sure I like that, this natural assumption you have that I wouldn’t even try.’
She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘And would you?’
‘I might,’ he said slowly. ‘If I didn’t know three servants would come running at the first cry of rape.’
Eden watched him below lowered lashes. ‘I’m not about to cry rape.’
‘You aren’t?’ His blue eyes quickened with interest.
‘No,’ she opened the door. ‘I’m about to go outside to your car,’ she laughingly left the room.
Tim
