you usually this inconsiderate, or am I the exception?’ she demanded tartly. ‘You have already frightened me half to death by turning up here in the middle of the night, accused me of being an intruder, and now you propose to keep me awake even longer by having a shower. You really are the limit!’ she finished with disgust.
‘Miss Rawlings—if that really is your name,’ he saw her blush and raised a mocking eyebrow, ‘which I very much doubt,’ he added dryly. ‘You appeared to be anything but frightened when I arrived, furious is more the word I would choose. And I didn’t accuse you of being an intruder, I merely said you could be, there is a slight difference,’ he shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘As for the shower, I have every intention of taking that with or without your approval. If it disturbs you, I’m sorry. But I’m going to take one, of that you can be assured.’
Caroline didn’t bother to answer him, recognising an obstinacy such as her own. And she knew she wouldn’t have given in either. She opened the door that led out to the stairs, conscious of his firm even tread behind her. The bedroom she showed him into was the one her father usually occupied on the rare occasions he came with her. It was blue and white in decor, the fitted carpet blue, with blue and white and small touches of black in the wallpaper.
André Gregory looked around him appreciatively, placing his case on the ottoman at the foot of the double bed that dominated the room. ‘Very nice. Your friend must have good taste in furnishings, if of course she chose the decor.’
‘Of course she did,’ snapped Caroline, standing nervously just inside the doorway. ‘She’s very artistic’
‘Hence the studio?’
‘Hence the studio,’ she agreed. ‘The bathroom is the room next to yours. I realise you’re probably accustomed to having your own bathroom but as there only happens to be the one I’m afraid we’ll have to share.’
‘And if I choose to walk around naked?’ he taunted.
‘That’s up to you, of course,’ she said coldly. ‘But I would prefer you to curb these instincts if possible. I’m afraid I’m not used to seeing strange men walking about without their clothing.’
‘Only men you know, hmm?’
‘Don’t be crude! You’re very insulting, Mr Gregory. If you would prefer it I’ll put the statement another way, I’m not used to seeing any man without his clothing. Does that satisfy you?’
He grinned. ‘The name is André, and as I have every intention of calling you Caroline I would suggest you use it. As for satisfying me, only the best does that, I’m afraid.’
Caroline hadn’t missed the intimate undertones beneath his words, and she realised how precarious her position was as she stood just inside his bedroom. ‘I’ll—um—I’ll just get the bed linen.’
‘You do that,’ he laughed, shedding his jacket and beginning to peel off his thick sweater.
She fled before he took off anything else, like his trousers. She sorted through the linen cupboard, collecting sheets and blankets, but taking her time over it. She had no desire to find him in the state he had earlier described, although she felt certain he wouldn’t feel in the least embarrassed if she did.
She tapped lightly on his bedroom door but receiving no answer decided he must already be in the bathroom. His clothes were scattered on the bare mattress, and picking them up she folded them neatly and placed them on the bedroom chair. It didn’t take her long to make up the bed and she was just putting the finishing touches to the bedspread when he came back into the room.
She turned around quickly as she heard the door open, her face apprehensive. But she needn’t have worried, he was clothed quite adequately in a thick white towelling robe, his dark hair gleaming damply. Caroline stood up from her task, rubbing her hands nervously over her slim hips, and unconsciously drawing attention to herself. ‘I’ve—er—I’ve made up your bed,’ she told him needlessly.
The green eyes mocked her. ‘I can see that. And as you can see, as a concession to your supposed modesty, I’m wearing this robe,’ he threw the damp towel on to the chair on top of his clothes. ‘Was there something else?’
‘No—no, of course not.’ She snatched the towel off the clothing. ‘You’ll ruin these doing that. I’ll put the towel on the radiator in the bathroom to dry.’
‘Thank you,’ his voice taunted.
‘Right. Well, I’ll—I’ll go to bed now. Goodnight,’ and she hurriedly made her escape, conscious of his mocking laughter behind her.
She found it even more difficult to settle down to sleep with the knowledge that André Gregory was in the room opposite her own. She could hear him moving about and wondered what he could possibly be doing now. Strangely enough, although she resented his presence, she also felt comforted to know he was there. She must telephone her father in the morning and ask about this friend of his, and perhaps warn him to back up her story when André Gregory called him.
CAROLINE awoke to thin watery daylight filtering through her lemon curtains. She blinked rapidly. Whatever time was it? She glanced quickly at her wrist-watch, jumping hurriedly out of bed as she saw it was already eight-thirty. If she didn’t call her father within the next fifteen minutes he would have left for the office. She grabbed her housecoat off the back of the door and rushed out to the bathroom, only to find the door firmly locked against her.
She rattled the door handle frustratedly. ‘Are you in there, Mr Gregory?’ she demanded crossly.
‘I would have thought that was obvious, Miss Rawlings. So if you wouldn’t mind going back to your room until I’ve finished shaving?’ his deep voice sounded from the other side of the door.
‘I most certainly do mind! You’ve had more than your fair share of time in the bathroom, and I’m going to wait right here until you decide to vacate it,’ she told him stubbornly.
‘Okay, please yourself. But I think I should warn you that I didn’t bother with the robe today. I didn’t think it was necessary as you appeared to be fast asleep.’
Caroline blushed hotly, feeling herself forced to return to her room. He knew very well that she wouldn’t wait here until he came out of the bathroom, naked. ‘All right,’ she admitted defeat. ‘I’ll just go downstairs and put the kettle on,’ and telephone Daddy, she could have added, but didn’t.
‘Quite domesticated, aren’t you,’ he taunted.
She didn’t deign to answer him, running quickly down the stairs, her housecoat flapping aside as she ran. Thank heaven she would have this chance to speak to her father privately before that man came downstairs. The telephone rang five or six times and Caroline wondered if anyone was going to answer when suddenly the telephone was picked up and her home number related to her gruffly.
She held the telephone close against her ear. ‘Daddy?’ she whispered questioningly.
‘Caroline?’ he queried sharply. ‘Is that you, Caroline?’
She chuckled softly. ‘Well, I hope so,’ she teased. ‘Who else
