Carole Mortimer - Passionate Winter

Leigh grimaced. Piers Sinclair could hardly be called a mechanic. She’d been expecting this question and didn’t like to admit that she had had to accept that man’s help yet again. Why did it have to be him anyway? What had he been doing driving in that area—it was in completely the opposite direction to his home. Perhaps he had been visiting one of the numerous women she felt sure he must have in his life. A man of his obvious masculinity wouldn’t be able to live without some woman to satisfy his bodily needs.

She sighed. Now who was making snap judgments? For all she knew Piers Sinclair might have a steady girl-friend, but she knew there had to be at least one woman in his life. Maybe it was that other racing driver’s wife—or ex-wife, as she was now divorced from her husband. It didn’t say a lot for Piers Sinclair’s morals if that were the case, but then from what Gavin had said about his father he didn’t seem to have any.

‘You’re never going to believe this, Karen, I’m not sure I do myself, but I received an offer of help that I just wasn’t able to refuse. Much as I would have liked to.’

‘You mean—you mean some man forced you to accept his help?’

‘Not just any man—Piers Sinclair.’ The last was said with a grimace.

‘What, again!’

Leigh began stripping off her clothes in preparation for her shower, throwing her discarded clothes on her own single bed. ‘Yes, again. You can imagine how embarrassed I felt, especially when he discovered that all the trouble was that I’d run out of petrol. Just my luck.’

‘Oh no!’ chuckled Karen.

‘Oh yes! You should have seen the smug look on his face. He made me feel positively violent!’

‘You certainly don’t seem to like him very much. I think he sounds absolutely fascinating, from what you’ve said about him.’

‘Mmm.’ Leigh grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard and pushed her hair under her flowered shower cap. ‘Like a panther. Sleek, powerful, and utterly lethal.’

‘Really? That sounds even more interesting.’ Karen gave a satisfied smile to herself.

‘Don’t you believe it. He probably eats little girls like us for breakfast.’

‘What clothes are you wearing this evening?’ Karen decided it was time to change the subject. ‘I’ll get them out for you if you like.’

‘Don’t make yourself late because of me. I can always call a taxi to take me later.’

‘It’s all right, I only have to change now and I’ll be ready. It won’t take me two minutes and it’ll save you time.’

‘Okay, thanks. My velvet trousers and the cream smock top. I don’t feel like wearing anything too smart this evening.’

Leigh luxuriated in the steaming hot shower, soaping herself all over in the delicious perfumed soap she always used. Her thoughts weren’t as relaxing as they ought to be, though; Piers Sinclair’s arrogant face insisting on invading her mind and conscience. It seemed impossible to think a man she had only met twice in her life had the power to so disturb and disrupt her in this way. But he had! He made the boys she would meet at the party this evening seem juvenile in comparison. She mentally berated herself. Surely a man of his calibre wasn’t worth wasting her time thinking about. Not a man who wasn’t averse to flaunting his affairs in front of his son.

She wrapped the towel around her still damp body and went into the bedroom, smiling gratefully at Karen as she saw her clothes neatly laid out on the bed. Karen was already dressed by this time and she couldn’t help thinking how nice she looked.

‘You look lovely,’ she told her friend. Which in fact she did, her blonde hair styled in bubbly curls that suited her small heart-shaped face. She was wearing a long flower print dress in dark blue and white and it showed off her small dainty figure to perfection. ‘Who’s all this for?’ teased Leigh. ‘Keith?’

Karen coloured prettily. ‘No, although I do like him a lot. Not seriously, though,’ she turned around as she heard the, doorbell ring. ‘That’ll be him now.’

Leigh released her hair from the shower cap, and began cleansing her face before applying fresh make-up to her glowing cheeks. She always felt about ten years old with her face all clean and shiny like this and she smiled cheekily to herself in the mirror.

Karen 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.