bimbos!’
He did so, slowly, his eyes challenging hers with an unnerving amusement as though he had some dreadful plan in store for her. She responded with an icy glare back, trying to balance on one rather shaky leg. And all the while she was uncomfortably aware that her heart was thudding crazily with a frightening excitement. It seemed, she thought hazily, that she actually relished the thought of tangling in a battle royal with her devilish brother. For a vicar’s daughter, that wasn’t seemly!
‘Allow me,’ he murmured, reaching out for her shoe and bending down to ease it on to her foot. ‘Hmm. You don’t get these in a charity shop,’ he said from a crouching position, capturing her foot and caressing the leather thoughtfully.
Oh, yes, you do! she thought in amusement. The suit, too. ‘An ‘impress John’s boss’ purchase. But her gravity seemed to be faulty and she was forced to place one nervous hand on his shoulder. Just as well she did. The realisation that its width was all him and not padding as she’d imagined seemed to disconcert her. There was a lot more of him, muscle-wise, than when he’d left—and he’d been pretty well-built even then. She wobbled. ‘So?’
He smiled faintly. ‘Since I know you’ve hardly two pennies to rub together——’
‘Who said?’ she interrupted, bristling.
‘Lisa.’ He smiled again, when she gritted her teeth to conceal her involuntary groan of dismay.
‘You’ve been chatting,’ she said flatly.
‘Among other things. She told me that you lent John the money to come over here and to keep himself for a few weeks while he looked for work. I gather it left you a bit short. I hope you haven’t got into debt.’
‘No.’ She had intended to leave it there but his lifted eyebrow suggested he was waiting for an explanation. So she gave him one. ‘A man was generous to me,’ she said, thinking of the elderly manager of the charity shop in Exeter who’d let her have a reduction on the outfit. And then she wondered why she wanted István to believe that men trailed after her as eagerly as women crawled after him. In actual fact she’d been too busy to do more than occasionally go out with old schoolfriends who still lived locally. No, not too busy…lacking in interest.
‘Serious affair, is it?’ he murmured.
It was serious that she, someone who longed to be a mother one day, had no interest in becoming anyone’s wife. ‘Very,’ she answered soberly. ‘Didn’t Lisa tell you?’
István’s thick black eyebrows drew together in disapproval as though news of her affair annoyed him, anger tugging down the corners of his mouth and tightening the strong lines of his jaw. ‘No, she didn’t. I must admit, I’m surprised any man’s got past the impressive defence works.’
Tempted initially to grab a fistful of his raven-silk hair, she glared down at the top of his head and felt a ridiculous urge to stroke it instead. Then, inexplicably, came a fear of touching him at all. He seemed much more male than before, and she frowned at the discovery.
‘The drawbridge does get let down on occasions,’ she said with a shrug.
His long black lashes fluttered then lifted to reveal his wicked, probing glance. His fingers rested briefly on the sheer stockings her father had bought for her and she quivered indignantly at his touch. ‘Extravagant…Do hope you stung him for some decent underwear too,’ István purred.
The blush stained her face before she could even think of stopping it. ‘What an extraordinary thing to say!’ she cried in surprise. ‘That’s hardly the kind of question my brother should be asking!’ she added in reproof.
‘I agree, he said with suspicious amiability. ‘You’re so right. Not brotherly at all, was it?’ He paused, contemplating her with a huge grin on his face. That secret again! she thought, intrigued. ‘Only underwear salesmen or lovers speak of silk knickers, stocking-tops and black lace bras in low, passionate voices.’ His eyes mocked her disapproving expression. ‘I know, I know,’ he murmured. ‘It’s very improper for any brother of yours to be concerned with what lies hidden beneath that blue linen barrier. Perhaps,’ he suggested in wide-eyed innocence, ‘I’m not your brother after all.’
‘Some hopes!’ she said bitterly. ‘I see the same arrogant bully, the same sardonic face, I hear the same cynical cruelty in your voice and I feel ashamed we have the same blood. You’re no different. Unfortunately.’
‘I think you’ll find I’ve changed,’ he said enigmatically.
‘Hope springs eternal. Now return my foot,’ she said icily, finding his touch on her leg highly disturbing. What was it that bothered her about him? she puzzled. ‘I came here to see Lisa, not to stand around like a stork.’
István studied her impassively for a moment, his fingers absently caressing her ankle, and she mused that he must have powerful thigh muscles to stay crouched in that position for so long. A small shiver curled through her, though she wasn’t cold.
‘You have nicer feet than a stork,’ he remarked idly. ‘Smoother, sexier——’
‘István!’ she protested.
He smiled and released her foot, slowly uncurling his body till he was towering over her again. ‘Takes you back, doesn’t it?’ he mused. ‘Me, unbuttoning your little Noddy slippers at bedtime, singing some nonsense rhyme——’
‘That’s quite enough!’ she husked, hastily interrupting his reminiscences.
She had no wish to remember. István had won their childhood adoration by singing throaty lullabies in a funny language they thought he’d made up. It had been Hungarian, of course. Why their mother should have taught him to speak her native tongue and him alone, she could never fathom. They were all half Hungarian, after all, but their mother had spoken of her background to no one but István. The rest of them she’d discouraged whenever they’d shown any interest in her homeland. Favouritism, she sighed to herself. It still rankled—and she still felt ashamed that it did.
She had an overwhelming sensation of being crowded by him, and moved back a step to lean against the car. Her eyes slanted to see if John was ready to take her inside. To her alarm, she saw that he and Lisa appeared to be arguing. Adding to her anxiety, István placed both his hands on the car either side of her and leaned forwards in what might have been a friendly intimacy but had the effect of seeming rather unnerving because she was effectively trapped.
‘I wanted to remind you of the good times,’ he said softly.
‘There weren’t many—and they were totally overwhelmed by the bad times,’ she muttered, shrinking back. ‘Why remind us of things we’d rather forget?’
‘I’m trying to prepare you,’ he said enigmatically.
‘For what?’ she asked with deep suspicion.
‘Changes,’ he said silkily. ‘Interested?’
She scowled. Fascinated! ‘In you?’ she fended.
‘I thought you might be,’ he said lazily. ‘From the moment you could toddle, you were jealous of the secrets I shared with Ester,’ he added, using their mother’s first name as he always had.
‘None
