Free The Daughter of Night by Jeneth Murrey Page A

more amused than offended.
    'I'm certainly not dancing for joy,' she snarled softly, 'and that reminds me—' She put her fingers to her throat where the pearls rested. They felt smooth and silky but incredibly heavy and cold. 'May I have my necklet back, please?'
    'It means that much to you?' and at her nod, he drove in complete silence until he reached the house where she had her bedsit and then stopped the car without making any move to get out. He simply turned and looked at her.
    Hester felt threatened and her eyes hunted for the button that controlled the central locking system, but it was out of her reach. She watched, almost hypnotised, as he reached into his pocket to bring out the necklet and she saw his hand clench over it and contract into a fist. When he opened it, the fragile leaves lay crushed in his palm. Without a word, he dropped the mangled remains in her lap.
    'Put it away—or better still, throw it away, I don't ever want to see it again!'
    Hester fought back tears. Flo and Mia had given it to her last Christmas. As far as value—actual monetary worth was concerned, it didn't rate highly, but she treasured it. Flo was an avid 'catalogue' buyer and Mia had described the hours Flo had spent searching through the highly coloured pages for something pretty that didn't cost too much. Now it was ruined, and she thought she'd never forgive Demetrios for that.
    Sorrow gave way to anger and her hands went to the back of her neck, her fingers busy with the small diamond-set gold fastener. It wouldn't open and she tugged viciously until she felt something give, the silk thread snapped and pearls went bouncing and rolling over the floor of the car.
    Still in complete silence, she dragged the broken threads, still holding the intact clasp together, from about her neck and dropped them on his knee. When she judged her voice wouldn't tremble, her tightly folded lips parted.
    'Vandal!' She spat the word at him. 'I know that as far as you're concerned my little leaves were rubbish, but I'm not like you, I don't value things for what they cost—and this,' she displayed the ruined leaves, touching them with gentle, trembling fingers, 'this was irreplaceable. It was given me in love and I'd have valued it if it had been bought from Woolies. You'll never be able to give me anything one quarter as valuable or precious.' Her voice broke. 'P-pick up your pearls if you w-want them. G-grovel for them! I'll never wear them again. Now open this car and let me out!'
    'Where do you think you're going? You're now my wife, remember?'
    'So I am,' she sounded bleak, 'but that doesn't mean we've been stuck together with glue. For your information, I'm going to hell, come with me if you want and I hope you enjoy the trip.'
    She lurched against the door and it flew open, nearly sending her headlong on to the pavement, but she recovered quickly, dashing into the house and up the stairs as though the devil was at her heels—which he was; she could hear him just behind her and when she halted at her door to burrow in her bag for the key, he was beside her. No horns, forked tail or even a suspicion of a cloven hoof, of course—such outward signs weren't necessary. To anybody else, he was just a tall, well built, good-looking man, well dressed and in complete control of himself—but she—she'd just had a glimpse of what lay beneath the surface, and it frightened her!
    She envied him that control. Hers had slipped and she was vaguely ashamed of her behaviour; it didn't go with the image she wanted to project—that of a self-possessed young woman with a skin as thick as a rhinoceros's, somebody who couldn't be hurt. With an enormous effort, she grabbed at her self-control so that when he held out his hand for the key, she could drop it into his palm with studied nonchalance and stand quietly while he opened the door for her. Her cases stood ready packed in the hallway and there was a medium sized cardboard carton in the middle of the