disgust, and always referring to her affectionately as ‘carrot-tops’. Her hair had been more ginger than red then and she had worn it, much to her parents’ horror, in a spiky, short tomboy cut. He had been the only one who had said it suited her and she had never known his eyes be anything but soft when they looked at her, although there had been several occasions, even before the split, when they had been as cold as ice with Michelle. She shook herself mentally. He was a swine and a heartless seducer and all the rest had been a sham. The passage of time had borne that out.
‘I’m not sure yet, Vivien.’ He let his gaze roam over them all now and Candy fancied it turned glacial as it passed over her red head. ‘I shall make some changes; apart from that I haven’t had time to consider.’
‘Changes?’ Her mother sounded anxious, and Candy could have killed him for putting that frown of worry on her mother’s face.
‘My father was a good man, but too easily persuaded at times.’ There was iron in the voice now. ‘The school, for instance. From what I’ve seen of the business accounts a good deal of money seemed to find its way in that direction and with Chitten School a few miles away it seems ridiculous to continue to subsidise what is essentially a decaying building. The council won’t spend a penny on it; they obviously want it closed.’
He knew! He knew she was the schoolmistress; she could feel it in her bones. He was playing with her, like a cat with a mouse. Losing her job was going to be payment for the way she had treated him today.
‘Oh, but Candy is the teacher there,’ her mother said quickly, ‘and the children so love her.’
‘You’re the teacher?’ He turned to face her now and as she met the full force of his cold blue stare her suspicions were confirmed. Yes, he had known. It was written in every line of his proud, arrogant face, and the small, menacing twist to his mouth would have convinced her if nothing else had. ‘Dear, dear.’ He raked back his hair, so dark a brown as to be almost black now the bleached ends had gone. ‘Well, we’ll have to confer about this, won’t we?’
She glared back at him, too angry to consider what she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll do exactly what you want to regardless of anyone else’s feelings, Mr Strythe.’ His eyebrows rose mockingly as she gave him his full title. ‘You did ten years ago, and a leopard doesn’t change its spots.’
Her last words had wiped away the small smile that had played round his mouth in satirical contempt as he had listened to her passionate outburst and now, as her face turned white with the realisation of what she had said in front of everyone, he slowly moved his gaze from hers after one searing glance of utter scorn.
‘This is excellent, Mrs Clarke. My compliments to the chef.’ The smooth, controlled voice was like a slap in the face and she sank back in her seat feeling quite mortified, like a small child who had unwittingly made a serious social blunder.
She kept her eyes on her plate for the next few minutes, looking neither to left nor right while her hot anger cooled and she gained control, and when she heard Cameron deep in conversation with his host, a small, meek man normally dwarfed by his shrew of a wife, she raised them slowly and looked his way.
The years had added to his appeal, she admitted grudgingly—if you liked cold, unfeeling robots, that was! He had always been tall and lean, but now his shoulders were powerfully developed with the muscled strength of a prime athlete. His hair had been cut short, very short, which accentuated the chiselled, hard features and steel-blue eyes with their surprisingly thick lashes. Not exactly good-looking in the usual mode, she reflected musingly, but she could imagine the ladies just falling into those strong arms, wanting to change the indifference in those sharp eyes into something else.
There was something about him—a detachment, an aloofness that would draw some women like a powerful amulet. He stood out from the crowd. He always had.
She flushed scarlet suddenly as she became aware of his dark, raised eyebrows, his eyes tight on her face. He had caught her staring and she was furious with herself. Whatever would he think?
‘I would like to discuss the school’s finances further, Candice.’ She noticed he gave her her full name, and he must have remembered how much she hated it! ‘Could you call at the house after work tomorrow?’
‘I suppose so,’ she said bitterly, her expression portraying that she thought it was a fruitless exercise. ‘It takes me some time to clear up, so I’ll be there about five. OK?’
‘Fine,’ he returned easily. ‘I’ll have some tea waiting.’
‘Please don’t bother.’ This polite conversation was ridiculous after what had gone before, she thought irritably. Everyone could feel the undercurrents swirling like a heavy black flood.
‘It’s no bother.’ His eyes had narrowed and she sensed again that brooding ruthlessness that seemed at the very essence of him now. ‘Mrs Baines is an excellent housekeeper, as I’m sure you know.’ She couldn’t bring herself to smile and merely nodded abruptly, her eyes cold. ‘I’m sure Candice will bring you up to date with what we decide,’ he said now to her father.
‘She’s her own boss, Cam,’ her father said quietly. ‘Has been for years.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ There was a cutting note in Cameron’s voice that everyone seemed to miss apart from her, Candy thought balefully. He thought he was so powerful, so omnipotent. Well, she would show him! If he expected her to grovel to keep the school open he had another think coming. Nothing, nothing on this earth would persuade her to do that. If she had to get another job, so be it. Her qualifications were good enough to get her in anywhere.
The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful, although the discord between Candy and Cameron fairly reverberated around the room and everyone was glad when it was time to leave.
As the others milled into the hall, selecting their coats from the fashionable antique hallstand, Cameron caught Candy’s arm, forcing her to stand still. ‘At five, then. I’m looking forward to it.’ The arrogantly threatening note irritated her and she raised her huge brown eyes to his lowered face, her expression sardonic.
‘Of such is life’s little pleasures made.’ The scorn in her voice was unmistakable.
‘Exactly.’ Now his voice was chilling. ‘I’ve waited a long time to see you all again.’
‘We didn’t go anywhere,’ she bit back furiously, and he allowed himself a small, cold smile.
‘So you didn’t. My, you’ve changed. Quite unrecognisable.’ It wasn’t meant as a compliment and she didn’t pretend to treat it as such.
‘You, unfortunately, are just the same.’ She was annoyed to find her senses were registering the fact that he smelt delicious and a strange little quiver was causing her stomach muscles to clench in protest. He was so very...male. She couldn’t think of anyone else who wore their masculinity so aggressively.
‘I seem to remember we got on all right in the old days,’ he said mockingly, and she felt an almost overwhelming impulse to smack that imperious face hard!
‘I was a child then,’ she answered shortly, ‘and children are very trusting. Then they grow up.’
‘I gather that little dig is meant for me?’ The nerve of the man! After all that had happened, to stand there looking so irritatingly pleased with himself!
‘Candy!
