PAGAN ADVERSARY Read Free

he must have something.
    Look at the birds he pulls!'
    Harriet smiled cynically as she wound papers and carbons into her
    typewriter. 'Oh, he's got something all right,' she agreed. 'Money.'
    Claudia snorted. 'Bet it's more than that. Haven't you ever seen a
    photograph of him?'
    Harriet shrugged. 'The odd newspaper one. But they don't tell you
    much except he hasn't got two heads. It's a pity he hasn't, really,' she
    added thoughtfully, 'then everyone would know what a monster he is.'
    'Miss Masters!' The typing pool supervisor materialised beside.
    Harriet's desk, looking severe. 'Miss Greystoke has buzzed. You're
    wanted in the chairman's suite.'
    Harriet's fingers stilled on the keys of her machine. She was a good
    efficient worker, and she had sometimes taken dictation for the
    managing director and the company secretary when their own girls
    were away, but the chairman was another kettle of fish altogether.
    None of the typing pool ever filled in for the remote and efficient
    Miss Greystoke. And anyway, if Miss Greystoke had buzzed, it was
    reasonable to suppose that she was there, and not requiring a
    substitute.
    'When you're quite ready, Miss Masters,' the supervisor reminded her
    sarcastically.
    The chairman's suite and the other executive offices were one floor
    up, and Harriet walked up the . stairs, trying to tuck errant strands of
    hair back into the smooth coil she wore on top of her head. What on
    earth could Sir Michael want her for? she wondered in alarm. In the
    two years she had been with the company, she had never even spoken
    to him. When Kostas and Becca had been killed, it had been the
    company secretary Mr Crane who had dealt with her, and he had been
    kindness himself. But perhaps Sir Michael didn't think she was worth
    the time and the money she had been allowed. But if so, was it likely
    he would summon her to tell her so himself?
    She was totally mystified by the time she reached Miss Greystoke's
    office. Miss Greystoke was looking at her watch ostentatiously when
    she knocked politely and went in.
    'At last,' she said coolly. 'You're to go straight in.'
    'Yes.' Harriet hesitated. 'Do—do you know by any chance what it's
    about?'
    Miss Greystoke looked as if she was about to be withering, then
    suddenly relented, perhaps noticing for the first time Harriet's pallor.
    'I haven't the slightest idea. There was a message waiting when I got
    back from lunch.' She smiled. 'But don't look so worried. He's not a
    bad old stick, you know,' she added, lowering her voice.
    Harriet returned the smile nervously. She walked over to the door of
    the inner office, squared her shoulders resolutely, pressed the handle
    down and went in.
    Unlike Miss Greystoke's office, which was artificially lit, the
    chairman's room had windows the length of one wall, and the sudden
    glare of sunlight almost dazzled Harriet as she stood hesitating, just
    inside the door.
    For a moment, all she was aware of was a man's figure standing at one
    of the windows, and then as he turned and came towards her, she
    realised in an odd panic that whoever this was, it wasn't Sir Michael.
    For one thing, this man was at least twenty years his junior,
    black-haired with a dark, harshly attractive face. He was tall too, and
    expensive tailoring did full justice to the breadth of his shoulders and
    his lean hips and long legs.
    Harriet took a breath. 'I'm sorry—there's been some mistake,' she
    began, backing towards the door.
    He held up a swift authoritative hand, halting her.
    'Oh, don't run away, Miss Masters.' His voice was as harsh as his face,
    with a faint foreign intonation. 'You were brave enough to my lawyer
    not so long ago. What do you dare say to my face, I wonder?'
    Oh God, Harriet thought in anguish. It can't be true! It can't be him.
    Trying to sound cool, she said, 'Am I supposed to know who you are?'
    'We'll dispense with the games, if you please,' he said. 'We're both
    well aware of each other's identity.'
    Harriet swallowed.