love with him any more; it had, she had decided, been a momentary infatuation, the product of relief from the nagging worry of Flo's illness and his promise to get her the money she needed. Now she was in her right mind at last.
'You say that when I've brought you your money?' His eyebrows arched and then drew together in a frown as though he sensed her withdrawal. 'I thought you'd welcome me with open arms.' He fumbled in the folds of the raincoat and produced a small brown paper carrier bag, not much larger than the sort used by chemists for prescriptions. He dangled it in front of her eyes, 'As you asked, all in cash—nothing larger than a twenty-pound note—all used and untraceable and all in a paper bag. Do you want to count it?'
'In that little thing?' Hester's face registered disbelief as she stepped past him to open the door which he had carefully closed behind him. 'I thought it would make a bigger parcel than that. However, I'll trust you, but I prefer to do the counting in private. I'm sure you wouldn't short-change me.'
It was meant to be a waspish remark, but as she said it, she knew it was true. Vilma might have done that, but not this man; he was too meticulous. From underneath her lashes she surveyed him. He was meticulous about everything—the way he dressed, the way he behaved and the way he put his propositions down on the table with no attempt to hide the bad bits.
Her fingers closed on the carrier and some but not all of her bad mood vanished. She smiled rather weakly. 'As I said, I'll trust you, and as I'm rather busy…'
'… I shouldn't detain you, is that right?' With his foot, Demetrios pushed the door closed again despite her efforts to hold it open. 'Shall we stop playing games with your door!' he enquired lazily. 'I'm going to win in the end and you know it.' Then with a firm hand about her upper arm, he steered her into the living room. 'Are you going to keep that amount of money in the place overnight?'
Hester hesitated; lies didn't come easily to her. She had an inventive mind, but she always stumbled over the actual telling of an untruth. 'N-no,' she hesitated slightly, 'I think I'll take it to a friend for safe keeping, that'll be the best.'
'I'll drive you wherever you want to go,' he offered helpfully. 'I don't like to think of you travelling about the city with all that money in your bag—it would be so easy for somebody to steal it.'
'My, oh, my,' she marvelled, 'aren't you the thoughtful one! So much concern for
my
money! I assure you that, if I lost it or it was stolen, I shouldn't ask for any more.'
'Which is all to the good,' Demetrios seated himself without asking, 'because you'd stand no chance of getting a replacement sum from me, and I'm sure Vilma wouldn't oblige.' He stretched his legs to a more comfortable position. 'Get your coat and we'll go.'
'What you mean is, you want to know what I'm going to do with it?'
'Quite right,' Demetrios nodded, 'and I've no intention of letting you out of my sight until I find out.'
Hester gave him a reluctant grin. 'At least you're honest. I think I'll take a chance and keep it here for the night.'
'In that case,' he countered, 'I think I should stay to see you're not robbed.' His eyes slid to the divan, made up for the daytime with a tartan throwover and a couple of cushions. 'There should be room for both of us on that,' he goaded.
'Honest and determined with it!' she snapped acidly. 'Don't you realise that it's my money now and I can do what I like with it? I don't have to tell you a thing if I don't want to.'
'You'll tell me what I want to know.' Demetrios was lazily confident.
'Oh, for crying out loud!' Her patience snapped. 'Don't you ever let go? I have my own reasons, isn't that good enough?'
'No.' He sounded mild but immovable. 'It may be your money now, but I still want to know. As your future husband, I think I should be told.'
She let loose with an expletive which would have been better deleted.
'Very crude,'
'You say that when I've brought you your money?' His eyebrows arched and then drew together in a frown as though he sensed her withdrawal. 'I thought you'd welcome me with open arms.' He fumbled in the folds of the raincoat and produced a small brown paper carrier bag, not much larger than the sort used by chemists for prescriptions. He dangled it in front of her eyes, 'As you asked, all in cash—nothing larger than a twenty-pound note—all used and untraceable and all in a paper bag. Do you want to count it?'
'In that little thing?' Hester's face registered disbelief as she stepped past him to open the door which he had carefully closed behind him. 'I thought it would make a bigger parcel than that. However, I'll trust you, but I prefer to do the counting in private. I'm sure you wouldn't short-change me.'
It was meant to be a waspish remark, but as she said it, she knew it was true. Vilma might have done that, but not this man; he was too meticulous. From underneath her lashes she surveyed him. He was meticulous about everything—the way he dressed, the way he behaved and the way he put his propositions down on the table with no attempt to hide the bad bits.
Her fingers closed on the carrier and some but not all of her bad mood vanished. She smiled rather weakly. 'As I said, I'll trust you, and as I'm rather busy…'
'… I shouldn't detain you, is that right?' With his foot, Demetrios pushed the door closed again despite her efforts to hold it open. 'Shall we stop playing games with your door!' he enquired lazily. 'I'm going to win in the end and you know it.' Then with a firm hand about her upper arm, he steered her into the living room. 'Are you going to keep that amount of money in the place overnight?'
Hester hesitated; lies didn't come easily to her. She had an inventive mind, but she always stumbled over the actual telling of an untruth. 'N-no,' she hesitated slightly, 'I think I'll take it to a friend for safe keeping, that'll be the best.'
'I'll drive you wherever you want to go,' he offered helpfully. 'I don't like to think of you travelling about the city with all that money in your bag—it would be so easy for somebody to steal it.'
'My, oh, my,' she marvelled, 'aren't you the thoughtful one! So much concern for
my
money! I assure you that, if I lost it or it was stolen, I shouldn't ask for any more.'
'Which is all to the good,' Demetrios seated himself without asking, 'because you'd stand no chance of getting a replacement sum from me, and I'm sure Vilma wouldn't oblige.' He stretched his legs to a more comfortable position. 'Get your coat and we'll go.'
'What you mean is, you want to know what I'm going to do with it?'
'Quite right,' Demetrios nodded, 'and I've no intention of letting you out of my sight until I find out.'
Hester gave him a reluctant grin. 'At least you're honest. I think I'll take a chance and keep it here for the night.'
'In that case,' he countered, 'I think I should stay to see you're not robbed.' His eyes slid to the divan, made up for the daytime with a tartan throwover and a couple of cushions. 'There should be room for both of us on that,' he goaded.
'Honest and determined with it!' she snapped acidly. 'Don't you realise that it's my money now and I can do what I like with it? I don't have to tell you a thing if I don't want to.'
'You'll tell me what I want to know.' Demetrios was lazily confident.
'Oh, for crying out loud!' Her patience snapped. 'Don't you ever let go? I have my own reasons, isn't that good enough?'
'No.' He sounded mild but immovable. 'It may be your money now, but I still want to know. As your future husband, I think I should be told.'
She let loose with an expletive which would have been better deleted.
'Very crude,'
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