Time Fuse. PENNY JORDAN
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didn’t feel, it was simply that as yet she was too frozen and tense to be able to analyse her feelings. He was the same as she had imagined and yet different…a human being with whom she had one of the closest blood ties that existed and yet who did not even know who she was. For one moment she was afraid she might actually break down and cry. So much for the man-friend who had once derided her as an emotional cripple. At the time she had flinched from the words, confirming as they had seemed to do the fear that had haunted her childhood; that her father had rejected her through some fault of her own; some defect in her. Now she knew enough to realise that this was a common feeling in children, but even so some of the guilt and pain still remained.
The job was hers; and from now on she would have the time and the opportunity to study him at close quarters. And when she had done so? She frowned slightly. She had not thought that far ahead. What was she expecting, she derided herself; that somehow coming to know her father would be the answer to all the deficiencies she saw in herself? Would knowing him enable her to cast aside her dread of emotional commitment in order that she could take a lover, for instance? One step at a time she told herself. One step at a time.
‘Just before you leave my dear, there’s someone I should like you to meet.’
For one dreadful moment Selina thought he must mean his wife; that was something she wasn’t ready for—not yet—but she realised almost instantly that that was hardly likely. He reached out and pressed his intercom. ‘Would you ask Mr Gresham if he could spare us a moment please, Sue?’ he instructed his secretary.
‘I’d like you to meet Piers before you leave,’ he told Selina with a smile, ‘you and he will be working quite closely together at times—as well as his own briefs, he does a great deal of work for me.’ He broke off as the door was thrust open, Selina turning automatically to witness the entrance of the man he was talking about. Tall, even taller than her father, he combined an intensely powerful sexual aura with an air of cool hauteur that Selina found instantly intimidating. It was all too easy to imagine his effect on a jury—or on a witness—and Selina shuddered finely without realising she was doing so.
Heavy eyelids lifted to reveal eyes of a startlingly deep shade of blue, which studied and dissected her with a scrutiny as powerfully honed and as icy cold as polished steel. Just the effort of holding that penetrating stare made her muscles ache with tension.
‘Piers, come in and meet my new assistant.’
Sir Gerald put a friendly hand on the younger man’s arm as he went forward to meet him. The family resemblance was slight, but there none the less, although Selina suspected that even in his youth her father could never have possessed the cold demeanour that was so evident in his nephew.
‘Miss Thorn.’ His voice was cool too, cool and deep, and just hearing it brought a rash of goosebumps up under her skin. He obviously knew about her already since he knew her name, and Selina was annoyed to find herself almost reluctant to accept the hand he held out towards her. The touch of his fingers was warm, the sensation of his skin against her own so acute that she badly wanted to pull away. He emanated a raw sexuality that made Selina feel uncomfortable. She had come across it before, but had always shied away from such men fearing them instinctively, although she had learned to disguise her fear as contempt. She did so now, without realising what she was doing. Her eyes and mouth cold, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. The swing of her blonde hair revealed the slender length of her throat, her formal business suit emphasising the slender seductiveness of her body.
‘Have we met somewhere before?’
His question over-balanced her, her eyes unknowingly widening and turning a dark smouldering grey as she was forced to look back at him.
‘No…no I don’t think so.’ They had never met before, and he must know it so why…
Sir Gerald’s laughter interrupted her worried thoughts. ‘Not a very original line, Piers, although I must say I don’t blame you for trying.’
Selina was pretty sure that nothing had been further from Piers Gresham’s mind than making a pass at her. She didn’t normally appeal to men of his type and she had always taken care that she should not do so. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that what her cousin saw in her was a family likeness, but to do so would be the utmost folly. That she should consider the risk almost worthwhile simply to see the expression on his face warned her that she was reacting far too much to him.
After a few minutes brief conversation Piers Gresham left them, and once he had gone Selina found it a good deal easier to relax. Before her interview her sole worry had been that her father might somehow recognise her and she had not really thought beyond that. Now she had been made uncomfortably aware of the fact that her emotional response to her father was not going to be her only problem. Would she be able to work with Piers Gresham without allowing her sexual fear of him to surface? Men like Piers Gresham possessed a masculinity they couldn’t resist reinforcing, just as her father hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of her mother. It would have been easier to bear if her mother had been merely a victim in the whole shabby affair rather than a participant, but her mother herself had admitted to her that she had been determined that her lover should marry her; and that he should desert his children and divorce his wife in order to do so.
‘Why not?’ she had demanded of Selina, sensing her distaste. ‘It’s no more than many other men have done.’
Her mother had been a very selfish woman, Selina acknowledged inwardly, attractive enough to use her looks to get what she wanted from life, but on that occasion she had gambled too high and lost, and she had never let Selina forget that had she known her lover would abandon her, his child would never have been conceived. Once that had hurt, but like all the other pains she had learned to bury it; to deny it life, just as her mother would have denied her life.
She had taken the morning off from her job to go for the interview. There was no secret about it. The judge for whom she worked had encouraged her to apply for the job and had even told her about it. Judge Seaton and his wife were the only two real friends she had, Selina acknowledged as she made her way back to his house. Now semi-retired, he was collating his memoirs and Selina had been helping him. He and his wife had been married fifty years and still found pleasure in one another’s company. Tonight she was going out to dinner with them to celebrate the Judge’s birthday. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. Susan Seaton was a motherly woman who couldn’t understand why an attractive girl like her husband’s assistant should so consistently shun the male sex, and Selina had long ago lost the habit of confiding in anyone and was, therefore, unable to tell her.
The Seaton’s house was in a quiet Chelsea mews; elegant and comfortable; a true home Selina reflected as the housekeeper let her in.
‘Good, you’re just in time for lunch,’ her employer exclaimed when he saw her. ‘Come and tell us all about it.’
She did so with the quiet self-control that marked her behaviour. Susan Seaton smiled warmly at her, marvelling at her lack of excitement. At Selina’s age she had already been a mother, but she had never possessed this girl’s cool control. Sometimes it worried her. It was almost unnatural for a girl of her age to be so contained. She had rarely heard her laugh or seen her cry, and she had worked for her husband for three years, living almost as closely as a member of the family.
‘I never thought for a moment that Gerald would turn you down,’ the Judge told her. ‘He’ll make use of your mind,’ he warned her; ‘I know he’s talking about retirement, but he’s still a powerhouse of activity; he’s one of our foremost QCs, with young Piers looking likely to follow in his footsteps. Now there’s a man to reckon with; an excellent defence counsel, but positively lethal in prosecution. He seems to possess an intuition that leads him right to a person’s Achilles heel. He’s as close to Sir Gerald as a son—perhaps closer; in fact I’d say after his mother his uncle is the only other person he’s fond enough of to allow him to sway his judgment. Gerald stepped in and took over the role of surrogate father when his own died. His sister Dulcie was widowed very young. Piers will be taking over from his uncle when Gerald finally retires.’
‘Wait until