‘You are,’ he drawled, smiling slightly, this time the grooves in his cheeks not looking at all menacing, ‘I am on my way to a business luncheon, not my mistress’s bed!’
A delicate blush coloured her cheeks. ‘I’m sure I didn’t imply——’
‘Yes, you did,’ he mused. ‘And I suppose I should be flattered,’ he added drily.
She didn’t know why. He was undoubtedly a sensual man, despite that rather unapproachable air he wore like a protective cloak; a man didn’t reach his mid-thirties without realising his sexuality was a tangible thing, no matter how well he tried to subdue it. ‘I just assumed——’
‘Too much,’ he put in softly. ‘I don’t have a mistress, Aura. Or a girlfriend. Or even a casual date.’
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his, sherry-brown locked with emerald green. Why had he told her that, for goodness’ sake? He surely didn’t think that she——! ‘Your personal life—or lack of it— holds no interest for me, Mr Ballantine,’ she snapped coldly. ‘It’s your business interests that concern me.’
He gave a weary sigh, rubbing his temples with long sensitive fingers as his elbows rested on the desktop. ‘The day started out so well, too …’
Her mouth tightened. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to ruin that for you——’
‘No, you aren’t,’ he derided. ‘You had something to say, and you would have said it no matter who you upset.’
‘Yes,’ she grimaced.
He laughed softly, his eyes warm, the amusement remaining in his smile. ‘I’m not upset, Aura,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Intrigued, perhaps, but certainly not upset.’
She stood up abruptly; the last thing she needed was a complication like this man in her life! ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time.’ She moved determinedly towards the door.
Somehow he was there before her, having crossed the room with a stealthy grace that was unnerving at the same time as his suddenly close proximity sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.
‘You haven’t taken anything I wasn’t willing to give,’ he told her softly.
Aura looked up at him with alarm, that alarm increasing at the unmistakable warmth in sensual green eyes. ‘I have to go,’ she insisted sharply.
He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Now what did he mean by that, she puzzled irritably all the way down in the lift and on the walk out to her car. The last thing, positively the last thing she needed, was for Adrian’s partner to become interested in her.
Unless the two men had discussed her, she worried on the drive back to the shop. James Ballantine didn’t seem the type of man to indulge in locker-room gossip, but that didn’t mean Adrian hadn’t told him about the obstinate woman he was dating who refused every move he made to share her bed. Maybe he had even challenged his partner to see if he could do any better with her!
She wouldn’t put that sort of challenge past the type of man Adrian had proved himself to be, but she was sure James Ballantine wasn’t like that. She was letting her insecurities of the past colour her judgement.
But no matter what conclusions she came to about James Ballantine, it didn’t alter the fact that Adrian had repaid her rejection of him by refusing to renew her lease, or that once Adrian returned to the office later today he might manage to convince his partner that he had acted that way for a good reason, and James Ballantine might just decide to go along with that decision …
It wasn’t the most relaxing day she had ever spent, expecting a furious Adrian Mayhew to appear in the shop at any moment, at the very least anticipating a telephone call from James Ballantine to tell her there was nothing he could do about renewing her lease.
Neither of those things happened. Each ring of the bell over the door as it opened brought in only customers, and the only two telephone calls she received were from other customers with queries. By five-thirty, as she and Jeanne, the middle-aged lady who helped her run the shop, closed up for the day, Aura’s nerves were frayed to breaking-point.
‘Everything all right?’ Jeanne took time out from the mad dash she always had at the end of her working day to get home and cook the dinner for her invalid husband and their three young children. ‘You seem very tense,’ she explained her concern.
Aura sighed. ‘It’s just been one of those days,’ she evaded; the other woman and her husband had enough trouble meeting their bills as it was, without worrying them with the fact that Jeanne might soon be out of a job because the shop was having to close. ‘I’m sure it will be better tomorrow.’ Oh God, she hoped so. If James Ballantine didn’t call her first thing tomorrow morning she was going to call him, and damn the fact that that was sure to make him angry straight away!
Once Jeanne had left to hurry to the nearby supermarket before it closed she paused while cashing up to look around the shop that had become her pride and joy. It was light and airy, the shelves well stocked and varied. It was hers, damn it, and she refused to lose it because Adrian didn’t like to hear the word no! She would take him to court over it if necessary—no, she wouldn’t do that, she admitted to herself dully. She wouldn’t do anything that would draw attention to herself, and claiming sexual harassment by her landlord would certainly do that!
But all the anger and frustration of her situation faded as soon as she looked at the gentle face of the woman waiting upstairs for her in the flat. No one, least of all she, was able to resist this delicately lovely woman’s vulnerability, Aura feeling protective as soon as she looked at the other woman.
‘Hello, Mummy.’ She greeted her mother softly so as not to startle her.
Vague brown eyes focused on her with effort as her mother looked up from the television set showing a popular children’s cartoon. ‘Is it that time already, dear?’ She frowned as she saw the till-roll and books in Aura’s hands.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed indulgently, kissing her mother on the cheek before glancing at the television screen. ‘Has the cat been put out for the night yet?’ she mused.
‘No, dear.’ Her mother patted her cheek. ‘And talking of cats, have you seen Marmaduke today?’
‘He came in with me and went straight for his food bowl in the kitchen,’ Aura assured her, knowing how her mother fretted about the wandering tomcat. ‘Just give me five minutes and I’ll get our dinner started.’
‘I’ll get it, shall I, dear?’ her mother offered, but her attention had already wandered back to the television programme.
Aura smiled as she went up to the next floor to her bedroom, knowing her mother would still be immersed in the cartoon—or another programme like it—when she went through the lounge in a few minutes on her way to the kitchen. Every night her mother offered to get dinner for them, and every night she either forgot or wandered off to do something else.
At only forty-five, with the sort of beauty that had only increased with the years, her mother had retreated into a world where pain didn’t touch her, where she saw only good in everything, because to see things any other way would be to see reality. It had been like this since Aura’s father died.
Her mother had never been a forceful personality, but the death of the man she loved had somehow pushed her into a world where she took responsibility for nothing, and where no one expected her to do so. When she wasn’t watching the childishly uncomplicated programmes on television she would just sit and daydream, and from the faraway tranquility of her expression when she did that Aura guessed her thoughts were as childishly unfettered by reality.
Shock, the doctors had diagnosed her condition, at the sudden death of Aura’s father. They had all predicted she would as quickly recover from the shock, that it