Free Wild and Wanton by Dorothy Vernon Page B

it.’
    Lindsay felt that she had been put through a grinder, mentally as well as physically. She hadn’t liked meeting with Bob Sheldon’s disapproval, and she wished she’d kept her thoughts to herself. What was this strange power that Nick Farraday had over people that even someone as seemingly sensible as Bob Sheldon seemed to regard him as a god? Well, she wouldn’t be taken in. She was aware that Nick Farraday was casting his powerful spell over her, but she would fight it. If Phil were still alive Bob Sheldon would have to take the number two place in the Nick Farraday fan club, because no one had adored him more slavishly than Phil had. She knew what had become of her brother when he realized his idol had feet of clay.
    She doubted that the paces she had been put through were much more arduous than her own exacting job, but it was a kind of work she wasn’t used to, and she felt drained and exhausted. Her face felt as if it were permanently fixed in a grotesque parody of a smile, and there wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t ache after the unnatural poses she had had to maintain. Her legs felt stretched; her thighs and ankles rebelled at the unaccustomed things that had been asked of them.
    Having changed into her own clothes, she emerged from the building and walked wearily toward the car which had brought her there and had dutifully returned to take her home. Her coach hadn’t turned into a pumpkin, she thought, feeling a bit like Cinderella after the clock had struck midnight.
    To her acute consternation it wasn’t Baxter, the man who had chauffeured her earlier, who alighted to open the door for her. Neither was it her Prince Charming.
    â€˜What are you doing here?’ she asked Nick Farraday incredulously as her heart sank.
    â€˜Reward time. I thought we’d have a nice quiet meal somewhere. Later, maybe, we could take in a few night spots.’
    â€˜Count me out. All I’m good for is bed.
    â€˜I’m an amenable guy. If you won’t go along with my suggestions, I’ll fall in with yours.’
    â€˜I’d see you fall into the sea first, in shark infested waters at that, before I’d let you fall into bed with me.’
    He settled her in the car, walked round and slid his long frame behind the steering wheel. He switched on the ignition, but before pulling into the stream of traffic he cast her a long, somber look. ‘Shark-infested waters? You don’t mean that.’
    She was intensely grateful that he didn’t seem to expect a reply.
    Even as she seethed at his overbearing arrogance in refusing to believe that she didn’t crave his company, she felt more confused than ever. She couldn’t respond like this to him. Nick Farraday might not have taken a pistol to her brother’s head, and no court would ever convict him of murder; yet he was responsible for her brother’s death. If Phil had never met him and idolized him to such an extent, he would be alive today.
    â€˜I won’t be bullied. I have a mind of my own. No one, not even you, can take me over like this. It was weak of me to agree to that test. Even if the verdict is good, I’m not right for your project. Find someone else. I’m not interested.’
    â€˜Was it very gruelling?’ he asked in mock sympathy. ‘Was Bob too hard on you? He does tend to be a perfectionist.’
    â€˜No doubt he was only carrying out your instructions,’ she interposed sourly.
    â€˜You’ll feel better after you’ve had a pleasant meal and a chance to unwind.’
    â€˜No,’ Lindsay said, wishing with all her heart that her voice carried more conviction.
    How could she convince this powerful, domineering man that she wasn’t interested in him? The answer suddenly came to her with a clarity she could have done without. Oh for those rose-colored glasses! Before she could convince him of her lack of interest, she had to convince