Carole Mortimer - Passionate Winter

Piers Sinclair looked coldly at Gavin. ‘You told me you were bringing someone called Lee here, knowing full well that I would think it was that boy Lee you share your flat with,’ he put up a silencing hand as Gavin tried to speak. ‘All right, I accept that you didn’t lie, but you certainly didn’t tell the truth either. You omitted to mention the most important fact, that Lee was—no, is a female.’

‘It had the female spelling, L-E-I-G-H,’ she put in resentfully.

Those blue eyes flickered over her contemptuously. ‘We didn’t actually go into the spelling of it during our telephone conversation.’

Leigh picked up her case and marched purposefully towards the door. ‘I couldn’t give a damn what you talked about during your telephone call. If you and your son will excuse me, I am going home.’

‘Don’t let me spoil your little weekend,’ put in Piers Sinclair smoothly, discarding the thick sheepskin jacket in the warmth of the room. ‘Just try and forget I’m here.’

It was something Leigh knew she could never do under any circumstances, let alone now when she was alone here with him and his son. In every way that Gavin was still a boy this man was very much a man. Her eyes were drawn again and again to the dark sensual face of Piers Sinclair, the power of his body clearly outlined in the close-fitting trousers and shirt he wore, the shirt clinging to his hair-roughened chest.

Leigh drew herself to her full height, and being a tall girl she was usually on a level or near level with most of the men she knew, but Piers Sinclair was at least a head taller than she was and she felt at a distinct disadvantage. ‘I don’t know the type of person Gavin usually mixes with, Mr Sinclair, but let me tell you now that if I’d known what Gavin’s plans were for this weekend I would never have come here.’

He sat down in one of the soft leather armchairs, resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other, his eyes veiled and mocking. ‘It pretty obvious to me that you were progressing very satisfactorily until I arrived,’ he gave a nod to Gavin. ‘A fact for which I now apologise. If you’d explained the situation to me earlier, Gavin, I wouldn’t have burst in here and broke up your evening.’

‘That’s all right, Dad. I—–’

‘When the two of you have quite finished!’ exploded Leigh, flicking her long hair away from her face. She walked angrily back into the room to glare at the two of them. ‘The two of you disgust me! But you, Mr Sinclair, you disgust me the most. Gavin can’t be expected to act any differently with you as an example. The only trouble appears to be that I’m not that type of person.’

Piers laughed tauntingly. ‘Oh, come on, girl! You mix in Gavin’s crowd, don’t you? And even the most shy innocent, which I’m sure you aren’t, couldn’t miss seeing where their scene is—where most young kids’ scene is nowadays.’

‘Not mine,’ Leigh denied vehemently. ‘I know very few of Gavin’s friends, and after today I don’t think I want to know any of them.’

‘You don’t have to defend yourself to me, Miss Stanton. I’ve already been there.’

‘That’s perfectly obvious!’ she said with disgust.

‘Dad, Leigh is—–’

‘Shut up, Gavin!’ Leigh snapped at him. ‘Your father isn’t in the least interested in what I am or am not. And I’m not sure it’s any of his business anyway.’

‘I should think there’s very little to tell. Most of Gavin’s friends are long-haired layabouts,’ he looked at her from head to toe, his nostrils flaring sneeringly, ‘and you seem to be no exception. If you want my opinion—–’

‘But I don’t! You see, your opinions don’t really matter to me,’ Leigh cut in angrily, aware by the tightening of his well shaped stern lips that Piers Sinclair wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to in this manner. This only made her feel better for being the one to do so. ‘Now if you don’t mind I really do have to go home,’ she smiled bitterly. ‘I won’t say it’s been fun, because that’s the one thing it hasn’t been.’

‘But you can’t go home now, Leigh,’ interrupted Gavin. ‘It’s very late. I’m certainly not taking you back at this time of night.’

‘I didn’t ask you to.’ And she had thought him a nice harmless boy! How wrong could she have been? If she had met his father before tonight she could possibly have guessed at his plans for her; no son of Piers Sinclair would ask a girl away for an innocent weekend. ‘I have two perfectly healthy legs and I’m sure some nice kind person will offer me a lift home.’

Piers Sinclair stood up, shrugging the sheepskin jacket back over his powerful shoulders. ‘You’re right— I will.’

Leigh’s eyes widened. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call you kind, Mr Sinclair,’ she told him rudely.

He released the case from her resisting fingers. ‘Is this all you have with you?’ he asked, ignoring her previous comment.

Leigh made an effort to retrieve her case but found all her efforts quite ineffectual against such stubborn strength. ‘Will you please give me back my property?’ she said stiffly.

He shook his dark head. ‘Sorry. I realise you probably hitch-hike all over the country, and get into all sorts of trouble by doing so, but I will not be held responsible for you travelling nearly a hundred miles in that manner at this time of night. That’s just asking for trouble, you may welcome it, I really don’t care. I’ll take you home and that’s that. My son doesn’t feel gentlemanly enough to return you to your home, a feeling I quite understand in the circumstances, so I feel obliged to carry out the task, with or without your co-operation.’

‘Don’t trouble yourself!’ Leigh told him tartly. ‘As you’ve just pointed out, I’m accustomed to hitch-hiking. You meet some very interesting people that way.’ In actual fact she had never hitch-hiked in her life and felt little inclination to do so now. She had heard too many stories of different girls being attacked and molested in such circumstances to ever contemplate such a reckless idea. Until now! But this wasn’t from choice, but necessity. Unless of course she accepted Piers Sinclair’s forced offer of a lift, which she had no intention of doing.

‘I’m sure you do,’ retorted Piers Sinclair dryly. ‘But not this evening,’ he flicked an indifferent look towards his son. ‘I take it you have no objections to my taking your—girl-friend home?’

Gavin shook his head sulkily. ‘Not if you want to take her.’

Leigh’s eyes glittered her distaste. ‘Quite the gentleman, aren’t you?’ she smiled bitterly. ‘And I actually liked you! And as for you—–’ she turned angrily on the older man, ‘I’d rather risk getting into some of that trouble you mentioned earlier than spend any more time in your company!’

‘You certainly know how to pick them, Gavin.’ Piers Sinclair viewed his son with narrowed eyes. ‘Quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?’

‘Would you mind not talking about me as if I weren’t here!’ snapped Leigh. Really! This man was the absolute end!

‘Oh, we know you’re here all right,’ he said with some humour. ‘I must say you’re quite an improvement on some of the girls Gavin has introduced me to.’

‘I don’t need your approval, Mr Sinclair. And if I never see you or Gavin again it will be too soon. I’ve never been so insulted in my life before as I have been by you and your son!’

‘Now that I find very hard to believe.’

‘But Dad, she really is—–’

‘Will you please keep out of this, Gavin!’ Leigh almost shouted in her anger. ‘You’re only making the situation worse—if that’s at all possible. Your father has already formed his opinion of me, and I’m certainly not going to disillusion him.’