"For coming round, for helping."
"Forget it." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I'd do the same for anyone. Take a couple of days off and _I'll see you next week, OK?" He turned away, his body tense.
She stared at him a moment longer and then nodded quietly before turning and leaving the room, but the big body didn't move until he heard her footsteps upstairs, and then he leant against the sink with his arms outstretched as he forced his body to relax. Dammit, he didn't need this. If there was one thing he didn't need it was this.
It was some minutes later when Lydia heard the sound of her mother's key in the lock and then her voice talking with Wolf briefly, and again her stomach clenched with nerves.
As she heard the front door quietly close and then the sound of his car starting in the street below Lydia twisted miserably in the big bed. Her head was pounding in spite of the pills the doctor had given her and her whole body felt as though a herd of cows had been trampling on it, but the weight of her conscience made the physical afflictions unimportant. She should have told him. She curled up into a small ball as her mind ground on.
Somehow this thing seemed to have snowballed and it was all her fault. Hot tears pricked against the back of her eyes and she sniffed disconsolately.
He had been so kind in spite of the fact that he had obviously wanted to be elsewhere.
She remembered his stony face in the kitchen and sighed wretchedly.
She'd ruined his evening. Had he been going to see Elda? The thought brought her abruptly upwards in the bed and a flash of hot pain speared her brain as her mother tapped carefully on the bedroom door.
"How are you feeling?"
"More embarrassed than anything at causing such a fuss," Lydia replied quietly.
"Thanks for coming. Mum."
_They talked for a few moments before her mother went downstairs to make herself a cup of cocoa, and then she was alone with her thoughts again, thoughts she just couldn't control. Thoughts that cent red around the feel of his body as he had carded her close to him, his strong muscled arms and broad chest. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed for control, but it was difficult with the smell of his aftershave still clinging to her hair where she had rested her head against his face. And he was probably with Elda now.
At that thought the tears that had been held at bay by sheer will-power began to trickle from beneath her closed eyelids, soon to become a flood and then the flood a torrent. She should never have gone to work for him, it just wasn't working out. He had been so strange tonight: helping her, taking care of things, but overall that sense of cool aloofness, of cold reserve was what she remembered most, despite his gentleness. He had helped her because it had been the right thing to do in his eyes, that was all. She felt suddenly that he didn't even like her very much. And if she told him Matthew had been dead for three years? That she had deliberately misled him in order to secure the job as his secretary? She cringed mentally.
He'd be absolutely livid and rightly so. Her mouth twisted in self-contempt.
What was that ditty she'd learnt at Hannah's age?
"Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive." She hadn't known how true it was, she reflected miserably.
She pictured his face, eyes blazing and mouth tight with rage, and knew she didn't have the courage to tell him the truth. It was her last coherent thought before sleep overcame her.
CHAPTER FOUR
'Lydia? “As she heard Wolfs deep voice on the other end of the phone she forced herself to take a steadying breath before she att
empted to reply.
"Yes?" She didn't acknowledge that she recognised his voice; she couldn't, somehow.
"It's Wolf." The tone was pleasant and cool, with just the right amount of polite concern that was fitting for an employer to an employee.
"I trust you're feeling considerably better this morning? I expected your mother to answer the phone."
"I'm fine, thank you." She didn't mention she had persuaded her mother to leave once breakfast was over. Wolf was the type of man to whom twenty-four hours meant twenty-four hours, and she had the feeling he wouldn't be too pleased at her flouting the doctor's advice, but years ago, just after
Matthew's death, the two women had decided that if their close relationship was going to hold fast it was necessary that each understood, they had to lead totally independent lives while still being available for each other when the need arose. Today was her mother's bridge morning and there was no good reason why she should miss a little event she looked forward to all week.
"It was good of you to help out last night," she added carefully. - "No problem." There was a brief pause.
"I'll see you on Monday morning, then."
"I could come in tomorrow if you like, there's no--' " Monday morning. “His voice was abrupt, and for an instant she pictured him at his desk, hard blue eyes narrowed and mouth straight. Her heart did a strange little somersault and she bit on her lower lip hard. The man seemed to get under her skin with no effort and it was most disconcerting, especially as she didn't affect him at all.