Master of Hearts Read Free Page A

voice requested, and Kathleen wondered whether she had ever heard quite such a remote masculine voice before. "And you, too, Joseph!"
    Both boys obeyed him with alacrity, but as if they felt the need of some support they reached instinctively for Kathleen's hands.
    "I'm afraid I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance, senhorita." Grey eyes that were a surprise in such an infinitely dark face gazed straight at Kathleen, and she doubted very much whether he would ever look upon her acquaintance as a pleasure. "I must also add that I didn't expect to find anyone at all in here, least of all a young woman who looks as if she might well be English!"
    "I am English," Kathleen heard herself admitting in a whisper.
    His level dark brows ascended.
     
    "It is not possible that you are the sister of Senhora O'Farrel?"
    Kathleen felt as if she ought to bow her head as she made yet another admission.
    "I am Kathleen O'Farrel, senhor, and I came here especially to see you!"
    "I find that so hard to believe that you must forgive me if I look as if I doubt your word!" His voice was soft, sibilant, and every syllable received a delicate emphasis. And every syllable was as cold as melting ice. He was beautifully dressed in a cream silk suit, and she wished Peggy had warned her that he was shatteringly handsome, for somehow his type of looks affected her rather like a shock. It wasn't so much the darkness, the perfect features, the strange lustre of the thickly-lashed grey eyes; it was the impression of arrogance and domination, the soft-pedalled message of strength and virility that his tall, elegant shape gave out as he stood there framed in the doorway to the ante-room.
    A Portuguese aristocrat who was so unmistakably an aristocrat that there couldn't be a circumstance that could camouflage it from the world. And although he probably wasn't much more than thirty the bleakness in his eyes had nothing to do with youth, or anything approaching an ability to understand youth.
    Kathleen pushed back the tumbled hair from her brow, and thought with a sudden surge of resentment that although she had been caught out in a situation that seemed sadly against her, it wasn't fair that he should look at her quite like that.
    "I can't change my name to oblige you, senhor, and — strange though it may seem! — I did come here to be interviewed by you!" She bit out the words with a frustrated feeling of impotence. "But of course I understand you almost certainly feel an inte rview is scarcely necessary now! " She attempted to free her fingers from Jerry's and Joe's small, clinging hands, but they wouldn't let her go. "Your nephews," looking down at them, "were under the mistaken impression that your desk
     
    needed tidying" (what else could she say to defend them?), "and I came in here to—to---"
    "Assist in the process of tidying? with an insolent suavity in his voice that made her flush more hotly than ever, while his eyes never left her face.
    "Yes, I—I mean, I realised they were being overenthusiastic, and I—"
    "You need say no more, senhorita." He seemed to be standing aside in the doorway, to make it possible for her to leave them altogether if she wished—and had the sense! "I can only agree with you that an interview does seem a little unnecessary under the circumstances, and thank-you for having waited so long! Your sister's desire to be of assistance to me is much appreciated by me, but my nephews are already in the charge of a young woman who seems every bit as capable of handling them as you — from the brief opportunity I was afforded of studying you all together! — have given evidence of doing. And I can only repeat that it would be a waste of time to go into the matter further!"
    "Thank-you, senhor, I understand perfectly!" But as she wrenched free her hands and walked past him the colour in her face was burning so painfully that her cheeks felt actually as if they were on fire.
    He bowed his head.
    "I am concerned that you have