The Only One. PENNY JORDAN
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least not that variety,’ Brooke told him coldly. ‘Friendship is more important to a relationship than sexual desire—it lasts longer too. My parents were friends first and lovers second.’
‘How very cynical,’ Adam derided gently.
‘No, just practical,’ was Brooke’s heated response. ‘You see I’ve seen what happens to women when they believe they’ve fallen in love and I don’t want that for me. If I ever marry I want a husband who respects me as a person, someone who’ll never treat me as a second-class citizen, a physical convenience who he’ll tire of and want to discard the moment I’m no longer young and attractive enough to swell his ego. I’d like you to go now,’ she added lamely, knowing that she had told him more about herself in ten short minutes than she had told other people in almost a life time. ‘I’m sorry about … about leading you on….’
‘Mmm … why did you?’
‘I didn’t like your attitude,’ Brooke told him honestly. ‘I resented your assumption that I was available to you provided you were willing to pay. When I share the act of love with a man it will be because it is something that we both want; not merely because either of us wants to satisfy a brief sexual need.’
She felt him tense as he studied her through narrowed silver-grey eyes that carefully blanked off whatever he might be feeling.
‘Well, Brooke Beauclere, tonight I think we’ve both learned something we didn’t know before, don’t you?’ He leaned forward, smiling with faint malice as she edged away from him. ‘No need to look at me like that, virgins, no matter how appealing, aren’t quite my line, but just to add to your education and to reward myself for my forbearance.’ His mouth brushed hers, the brief contact electrifying. She had been kissed before, many times, but never like this Brooke acknowledged meltingly as his mouth continued to explore and tease hers, firm, masculine lips tracing the tremulous outlines of the mouth she was unable to keep still.
When the roughly persuasive stroke of his tongue was added to the sensual torment, something seemed to unfurl inside her. White teeth nipped erotically at the full lower curve of her mouth, Adam’s tongue making full use of the advantage her silent gasp gave him to invade beyond the barrier of her teeth.
Sensations so unexpectedly pleasurable that they stunned her jammed all the warning signals of her brain, her hands going instinctively to Adam’s shoulders, her body barely registering the fact that he was pushing her back against her bed, or that his hand was caressing the full warmth of her breast, his thumb and finger teasing the burgeoning hardness of her nipple.
Heat seemed to envelop her body; a heat so intense and unexpected that she trembled with the force of it. When Adam released her, for several seconds she could do no more than stare blankly up at him, unable to understand how he could have conjured up a response from the body that had hitherto obeyed her every command.
‘I like that,’ he told her softly, still smiling. ‘I like knowing that I can make you respond to me, and that no man has ever touched you or kissed you the way I was just doing. They haven’t, have they Brooke?’
She wanted to deny his arrogantly self-assured claim; to tell him that just because she was a virgin it didn’t mean she had no sexual experience at all, but caution intervened. Adam had more than enough experience to know when she was lying; her almost adolescent reaction to him was hardly that of an experienced woman; and she doubted that he would be very impressed by the inept fumblings of her early teenage years, dismissing them with the same mocking contempt that he would use to decimate her lies, if she was foolish enough to speak them.
‘No,’ she admitted reluctantly, ‘but it won’t happen again, Adam. I don’t want to see you again….’
‘You haven’t been asked,’ he reminded her tauntingly, adding. ‘I can let myself out. Sleep well won’t you?’
He had been gone for over ten minutes before Brooke could rouse herself sufficiently to go down and let Balsebar out of the kitchen. The dog was patently aggrieved, almost as though it was her fault he had been incarcerated there in the first place. Which in a way it was Brooke admitted, opening the back door to let him out. In the cool darkness of the autumn evening her skin heated betrayingly—thank goodness she was never likely to see Adam Henderson again she reflected, as Balsebar emerged from the garden and followed her inside. She wouldn’t let herself think about what might have happened if he hadn’t recognised her virginal inexperience. His mood hadn’t been kind when he had manhandled her into the bedroom and she shivered, recognising that he could be a very dangerous enemy if he chose to be. But not her enemy; not anything in her life except an error of judgment she had made which had had potentially embarrassing repercussions. Know your own limitations my girl, she chided herself as she locked the back door … don’t jump into deep water like that again. Now it was difficult to conjure up the feeling of antagonism that had urged her to confront him in the first place; in fact the entire episode, from meeting him to his leavetaking tonight, already seemed to be part of a dream; totally unreal and inappropriate to her normal everyday life.
Forget him, she urged herself as she prepared for bed. Forget him, and concentrate on how you’re going to support yourself from now on.
The Lodge was hers outright and she had a bank balance of some few thousand pounds. That her solicitor thought she was mad to donate what was left of the purchase money from Abbot’s Meade to the local children’s hospital she knew quite well, but they were doing research there on all forms of children’s cancer and from the conversations with her uncle’s doctor Brooke knew how badly they needed extra funds. She could get herself a job; she was old enough and intelligent enough to support herself, unlike those poor children. A job … she sighed … she would have to start looking round, although she suspected that Sam was right when he said that a secretary of her calibre was hardly likely to find a suitable position locally.
Not even to herself was she prepared to admit that she might be using her mental busyness concerning her lack of employment to cover deeper and even more disturbing thoughts. That Adam Henderson had affected her as no man had ever done before, she could not deny, but she certainly wasn’t prepared to admit that there was anything especially significant in the fact that he had done so; it had simply been a question of fate running with him and against her, and she doubted that he was ever likely to have exactly that dynamic effect on her ever again.
‘COME on now, Uncle Sam, give. You were very mysterious on the telephone this morning. What’s all this about you finding a job for me?’
They were sitting in Sam Brockbank’s office in the small market town of Abbot’s Meade. The office was as familiar to Brooke as the rooms of Abbot’s Meade itself, and she surveyed the untidy clutter with a rueful smile as she watched her solicitor shuffle the untidy piles of paper on his desk.
‘Well it isn’t so much that I’ve found you a job,’ he told her cautiously, ‘it’s more that I’ve been approached to tell you that one exists, if you are interested.’
‘Mysteriouser and mysteriouser,’ Brooke quipped lightly, ‘Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me all about it.’
She had dressed for her meeting in one of the neat suits she had worn during her London days—a soft melding of pink and blue tweeds that should have clashed horribly with her hair but did not, her cream silk blouse a perfect foil for her pale skin.
‘The chairman of Hart Enterprises is looking for a PA, and apparently he’s prepared to offer you the job.’
‘Just like that?’ Brooke raised her eyebrows. She had heard of Hart Enterprises first when she worked for the advertising agency and its chairman had the reputation of being particularly ruthless. Hart Enterprises never carried dead or excessive wood, and she could think of no single reason why she should be invited to join the staff. She was a good secretary, with first rate qualifications and excellent speeds and she knew that her last boss had been sorry to lose her,