you going to answer it?’ She frowned as he continued to let the telephone ring. ‘It could be important.’
He shrugged unconcernedly. ‘It could be.’
The monotonous ring of the telephone began to grate on her already frazzled nerves. ‘Well?’ she said sharply.
He tilted his head, listening, finally giving a terse nod of his head as the telephone was abruptly silenced.
‘There now,’ Crys said with satisfaction.
‘Twelve rings before ringing off.’ He nodded.
‘Twelve…? But—’ She broke off as the telephone began to ring again.
‘Twelve rings, ring off, then ring again, and it’s family,’ the man told her moving to pick up the receiver.
Crys frowned at this explanation. She couldn’t have said how many times the telephone had rung before it had stopped, hadn’t been aware that this man was counting them, either.
‘And if it’s not twelve rings before ringing off?’ she found herself asking dazedly.
He put one large hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone, his expression grim. ‘Then it doesn’t get answered,’ he replied economically.
What a strange, strange man, Crys decided with a barely perceptible shake of her head. He lived in this crumbling castle in what appeared to be complete solitude, except for a dog half the size of a horse, chose to answer his telephone only when he was sure the call was from a member of his family, obviously finding any other contact from outside his solitary world a complete intrusion—and yet at the same time he felt enough compassion at the death of a wild dog to dig it a grave in ground that had been frozen for weeks.
Enigmatic hardly began to describe such behavior. He was completely beyond Crys’s comprehension—
‘Is it okay if I answer this now?’ He held up the receiver with his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Or do you have any other questions that need answering before I do?’ He quirked mocking brows.
Once again Crys felt that flush in her cheeks. ‘Go ahead,’ she invited dryly, turning away from the mockery in his gaze to move listlessly about the kitchen.
She would have liked to be able to leave altogether while he took the call, but she was still too all aware of the slavering Merlin patrolling outside. Besides—
Crys came to an abrupt halt in her aimless meandering, suddenly arrested by something this man had said on the one side of the conversation she could hear.
‘Just cut out the excuses, Molly, and tell me exactly when you do expect to get here?’ he barked impatiently. ‘The day after tomorrow?’ He obviously repeated the answer he received. ‘And exactly what am I expected to do with your guest until you do decide to put in an appearance?’ he added exasperatedly.
Crys was staring at him now, eyes wide with disbelief. Molly. He had named his caller as Molly!
‘Very funny,’ he retorted scathingly at the reply he received, shooting Crys an irritated look as he realised she was openly listening to the conversation. ‘Look, Molly, this was not part of the deal. I agreed to letting you bring this Chris here for a few days on condition you kept the parents off my back over Christmas—yes, I know you did that by inviting them to New York to stay with you. But that doesn’t alter the fact that you can’t just expect to dump this man on me while you— What did you just say?’ He became suddenly still, appearing all the more menacing because of that stillness.
Crys gave a wince, well able to imagine what Molly had only just informed him.
He had named his caller as Molly. And she lived in New York… It was too much of a coincidence for Crys to be wrong in the conclusion she had come to.
This man—unbelievable as it might seem!—had to be Sam Barton. Molly’s brother. And until a few seconds ago Sam had thought Molly was bringing a man called Chris to stay with him for a few days. She was sure he was no longer under that particular misapprehension!
She sensed Sam’s emerald gaze on her now, as an unpalatable thought obviously occurred to him, so she deliberately kept her own eyes averted from what she knew would now be his hard, accusing ones.
This was awful! Worse than anything she could ever have imagined!
This man was the older brother Molly so adored!
Crys had agreed, very reluctantly, after Molly’s constant badgering of her, to spend a few days with her at the Yorkshire home of her older brother. But Molly was warm and bubbly, extremely caring—was probably the best friend Crys had ever had—whereas this man—Molly’s brother, Sam!—on their short acquaintance, appeared to have none of those attributes!
‘No, Molly.’ Sam was talking dryly to his sister now. ‘I will not frighten your friend away by doing my Heathcliff impression. Yes, I’ll tell her how sorry you are not to be here when she arrives. Yes, I’ll make her welcome.’ Impatience entered his voice now. “‘Be kind to her”…?’ he repeated slowly, green gaze openly taunting at the colour that had entered Crys’s heated cheeks. ‘What do you think, Molly?’ he derided.
Crys inwardly panicked. It wasn’t a question of what her friend thought; she already knew for herself that kindness was not necessarily a natural part of this man’s nature.
‘I’ll do my best.’ Sam suddenly chuckled, a pleasantly husky sound.
Although not particularly so to Crys. This man had terrified the life out of her the first time she saw him, had been alternately caustic and mocking since that time; there was no way she could agree to stay here alone with him for a couple of days while she waited for Molly’s belated arrival!
She stepped forward. ‘Could I—?’
‘Yes, Molly, I will remember to tell Chris how sorry you are. Talk to you later,’ Sam firmly finished, before replacing the receiver, his gaze challenging as he turned back to Crys.
Crys stared back at him with widely apprehensive eyes. Knowing he was Molly’s brother, after all, had done nothing to alleviate her apprehension…!
CHAPTER THREE
CRYS mentally shook herself. ‘That was Molly on the telephone, wasn’t it?’ she said heavily.
His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Very astute of you—considering I called her by her name several times!’
Crys decided to ignore Sam Barton’s obvious sarcasm—it simply wouldn’t help the situation if she lost her temper with him. Although…she wasn’t sure anything could improve the immediate situation!
‘And you’re her brother, Sam,’ she said evenly.
Although two people more unalike Crys couldn’t imagine! Molly was small and red-haired, with warm brown eyes, a gamine and beautiful face, and one of the friendliest natures Crys had ever known. Sam Barton was none of those things!
‘A regular Einstein, in fact,’ he drawled.
Despite her earlier resolve, Crys felt her anger towards this man rising, her cheeks
