looked flushed and breathless when she rushed back into the bedroom and Leigh smiled teasingly. ‘What’s happened to you? Has Keith been flirting with you again?’
‘No, it’s—oh dear!’ Karen began to look even more flustered. ‘It’s—Oh, there’s someone in the lounge to see you. It wasn’t Keith at the door at all.’
Leigh frowned. ‘Then who was it?’
‘I don’t know, he didn’t give a name, simply asked to see you.’
‘He?’ Leigh hitched the towel more securely about her and walked into the lounge, her feet padding wetly on the carpet. She came to a halt as she saw her visitor. He was standing with his back towards the room, staring out of the window, but Leigh had no doubts about his identity. No other man she knew had such thick vibrant hair and such broad shoulders.
‘Good evening again, Mr Sinclair,’ she said politely.
Piers Sinclair turned slowly round to face her, his eyes narrowing at the challenge in her own. ‘Good evening, Miss Stanton,’ he returned. His eyes slid insolently over her towel-wrapped body and Leigh clutched protectively at its soft folds. If anything the insolence in his look deepened. ‘Are you in the habit of greeting your visitors in this fashion, or are you trying to start a new trend in clothes?’
‘Oh, come, Mr Sinclair, surely you’re accustomed to seeing women in bath towels. After all, you must have had plenty of opportunity.’
‘Perhaps. But then you aren’t a woman.’
‘I’m sure many of my … friends would hasten to disagree with you.’ For the first time Leigh became aware of the fact that she and this man were in the room alone, Karen, for some reason, having stayed behind in the bedroom. She had probably guessed who it was by now.
‘Don’t pretend experience you simply don’t possess,’ he said coldly, still appraising her through narrowed eyes.
Leigh’s eyes sparkled angrily. ‘And how do you know that? Just because I didn’t sleep with your son it doesn’t mean I haven’t done so with other people.’
‘And have you?’ he demanded harshly.
She turned away, freeing herself from the physical attraction of this man, dressed elegantly in a white dinner jacket that fitted tautly across his shoulders giving them a width Leigh knew owed nothing to artifice. The black trousers he wore moulded against his long muscular legs and she found his appearance breathtaking, even though she knew he was probably aware of the effect he had on the female sex. The deep lines of experience and cynicism on his face were evidence of that. And just look at how poor Karen had reacted!
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business,’ she began coolly, only to. be cut off in mid-sentence by the arrival of Keith. He walked into the room, his usual cheeky grin on his face.
‘The door was open,’ he explained. ‘Hello, kitten,’ he hugged her to him before suddenly becoming aware of the other person in the room. He looked expectantly at Leigh.
Leigh felt sorry for Keith. If Piers Sinclair had looked down his arrogant nose at her like that she would have wanted to run away and hide; as it was she had no other choice but to introduce them. ‘Keith, this is Mr Sinclair, Gavin’s father. Mr Sinclair, Keith Manders.’ She watched as the two of them shook hands, neither of them altogether sure of the purpose of the other’s visit.
Karen must have heard Keith arrive because she came hurriedly out of the bedroom, taking hold of Keith’s arm and giving them all a shy smile. ‘Shall we wait for you, Leigh, or will you follow later?’ She looked pointedly at Piers Sinclair.
Leigh started visibly. She had no wish to be left on her own with this man. But she could hardly delay Keith and Karen any longer as it was already quite late. ‘You two go ahead,’ she told them, trying hard not to show how nervous she actually felt. In a group of people Piers Sinclair made her feel nervous; what would she feel like when she was left alone with him in the flat? ‘I’ll probably be along later, but if I’m not you’ll know I’ve decided to have an early night.’
She looked nervously at her silent companion after Karen and Keith had left, noting his disapproving look. ‘What’s wrong now?’ she sighed wearily as she sat down. ‘I can tell by the look on your face that I’ve done something else you don’t approve of.’
His dark eyebrows rose haughtily. ‘I wouldn’t have thought my approval mattered to you particularly, Miss Stanton. But if you would really like to know the reason for my displeasure it’s because I didn’t like the way that young man walked in here as if he owned the place and acted as if it was perfectly normal for him to see you dressed only in a towel!’
Leigh glared at him defiantly. ‘Perhaps it is normal for him! He’s a very good friend of mine.’ Which in fact he was, the two of them becoming firm friends from the time Leigh first moved to London. And it was perfectly normal for him to see women in a state of undress, because he was training to be a doctor. The sight of a half-naked body was no novelty to Keith and Leigh knew it; unfortunately Piers Sinclair didn’t. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell him! Let him think what he liked.
Piers Sinclair stepped forward into the light, gripping her arm tightly, his long slender fingers digging painfully into her soft skin. Leigh felt tears of pain and frustration well up in her eyes and she looked up pleadingly into his harsh face, feeling at a distinct disadvantage in her bare feet and dressed only in a towel. If he only knew it she felt much more nervous of him dressed like this than she ever would of Keith.
‘Please,’ she begged at last, trying to pry his fingers loose, unable to look away from the glittering anger in his eyes. ‘Please—you’re hurting me.’
‘I’ll do more than that if you don’t explain that young man’s familiarity,’ he told her between clenched teeth.
Leigh’s eyes opened wide with surprise as he jerked her close against him, and she felt him tense with an emotion she didn’t understand. He was so close to her that the hard length of his thigh touched her own bare legs and his soft breath caressed her hair. ‘Keith is a—a friend,’ she said breathlessly.
Piers Sinclair pulled her even closer against the lean hard length of his body, his grip on her arm tightening. ‘How much of a friend?’
‘Just a friend.’ She felt his hold on her wrist loosen and she thankfully pulled herself away from the drugging sensation of his body, rubbing her arm as the blood began to flow through to her hand again. ‘You didn’t have to hurt me. Are you usually this violent?’
‘Not usually, no.’ His face relaxed and he studied her with intent eyes. ‘Only when something is important to me.’
‘And does my virginity fall into that category?’ she couldn’t resist asking.
Piers Sinclair sat down, calmly taking a cigarette from his gold case, offering her one before igniting it with his matching lighter after her refusal. ‘Strangely enough,’ he said huskily, ‘it does. You’re only a child, and much too young to run about with the crowd Gavin mixes with.’
‘And he isn’t?’
‘Gavin is a boy and quite able to make his own decisions, rightly or wrongly.’
‘So you’re a male chauvinist,
