Free Robyn Donald – Iceberg by Robyn Donald

care for Sarah,' she said tonelessly. 'I
    can see that you must love her very much if you're prepared to have me about the place.'
    Again those shoulders moved, very slightly. With a drawl which was at variance with, the normal clipped
    precision of his speech, he retorted, 'Perhaps I just want her to be happy.'
    Again her glance sped upwards, saw the mockery glinting in the depths of his eyes and the irony of his smile.
    Without volition she stepped backwards, impelled by that instinct inborn in all women which recognises danger.
    The mockery intensified, rendering him extremely attractive and very dangerous. He didn't move, not a muscle,
    but she felt that he was willing her to come to him; she could feel the aura of his masculinity holding her
    captive.
    Physical attraction, said her brain, keeping her body still with immense concentration. It was as potent as a
    spell, and he was deliberately and unscrupulously using it.
    With an effort of will which exhausted her she turned away, saying as calmly as she could over her wildly
    beating-heart.
    'Possibly. I’m not particularly interested in your reasons, but I can promise that I won't deliberately hurt Sarah.'
    'Thank you.' His voice was cold and deep, without emotion.
    But Linnet didn't dare look at him all the way back to the flat-T-several miles, it seemed in the scented
    darkness--and when they got there she fled inside feeling that she, had narrowly escaped from a danger all the
    more severe because it was indescribable.
    Bronwyn emerged from me bathroom some ten minutes later dad in a negligee as pretty as it was impractical,
    all satins and laces which complimented her petite beauty.
    'From the shop,' she said complacently when Linnet admired it. Then after one of her devastatingly shrewd
    glances, 'You look as though you've been interrogated by experts. Sarah acting up?'
    'Yes.'‘ Linnet told her what had happened, omitting, for some obscure reason, Justin's offer of a job and her own
    reaction to it. Also she did not tell her what Justin had said about Bronwyn not needing the flat for much longer.
    'I told you she was a spoilt little piece,' her sister commented. '! feel sorry for her when she's not around, but I
    must confess her presence irritates me. Anyway, you can stay here. There's no reason for you to find board.'
    It was hardly an enthusiastic offer, but that it had been made at all surprised Linnet. 'I didn't intend to park
    myself on you for good and all,' she protested.
    Bronwyn grinned. 'I know. But it suits me to have you here. You can keep Sarah happy, and by the time she's
    old enough to go to boarding school you'll be old enough to get married.'
    'I doubt if she'll ever like boarding school,' Linnet said doubtfully, remembering the sensitive features, the
    passionate grief of the child.
    Bronwyn dismissed this. 'She'll get used to it, like all of us. You didn't go, did you? I did. You're horribly
    homesick for six months and then you love it.'
    'Well, I hope so.'
    'You think I'm hard, don't you? No, you don't need to prevaricate. I can see it written large all over your face.'
    Collapsing gracefully into a chair, the older girl put her feet on the arm of the sofa and surveyed them intently,
    her emotions hidden by the heavy lids of her eyes. After a moment she said levelly, 'You can have no idea of the
    sort of life I led as a child. My mother died when I was five and within a year Dad had married Jennifer, and a
    year after that you were born. Your mother was as kind to me as she could be, but we fought a battle for Dad's
    affection. It was as fierce as it was hidden, but we both knew that only one could win.' She looked up at Linnet,
    her blue gaze very cool. 'Well, I won, but even then, she won. She took you and left and Dad retired into a kind
    of half life, behind a wall where I couldn't reach him.'
    Linnet couldn't prevent a small sound of protest. 'There's ho need for you to tell me all this, Bronwyn.'
    'My dear girl, I'm not baring my soul