Sandstorm by Anne Mather Read Free Book Online

appraisal deepened to a concerned regard when she barely lifted her face to his.
    'You look tired,' he said, stopping in front of her desk and tapping its surface with his fingers. He was not a tall man, but he was stockily built, and his sturdy figure had a blunt persistence. 'What time did you get home from Liz's last night? I've told you before about burning the candle at both ends. You should listen to me.'
    Abby summoned a faint smile. 'Honestly, Brad, you sound more like a mother than an employer! All right, so I'm tired. I didn't sleep very well, as it happens. Does that satisfy you?'
    'You didn't answer my question,' retorted Brad dogmatically. 'I asked what time you got home from Liz Forster's. I know she was giving a party—you told me so. yourself.'
    'Did I?' Abby was finding it incredibly difficult to remember anything that happened the previous day before that fateful encounter with Rachid. 'Oh, yes, so I did. Well, yes, I went—but I got home quite early. A-about ten o'clock, I think.'
    Brad studied her determinedly downbent head with veiled impatience. 'And did you enjoy it?'
    'Enjoy it? Enjoy what?' Abby looked up almost blankly. 'The party!' Brad replied forcefully. 'Liz's party! I asked if you‑-'
    '—enjoyed it. Yes, of course.' Abby chewed on her lower lip. 'Yes, it was all right. You know what Liz's parties are like. Lots of food and wine and music. Good company‑'
    Brad shook his head. 'So why did you leave early?'
    'Is this an inquisition?' Abby jerked the sheets of paper out of the typewriter. 'Damn these things! I always have to do them twice.'
    Brad hesitated a moment longer, and then as Abby got up from her desk to marshall another batch of carbons, he shrugged and walked through the door into his own office. He was not appeased, Abby guessed, but short of demanding a resume of her evening's activities, he knew he was unlikely to get a satisfactory answer.
    The rest of his morning was taken up with meetings, and by the time he got around to dictating his letters that afternoon, he had other things on his mind. Besides, by then, Abby had applied a light blusher to her cheeks and erased the circles around her eyes with careful make-up, and he^ appearance evidendy allayed any lingering suspicions he had. Since she had returned to work for him, he had adopted a kind of proprietorial interest in her affairs, and while she appreciated his protection, there were times, as now, when she felt the restraints it put upon her. She knew he had her well-being at heart. He obviously blamed himself in some part for her disastrous relationship with Rachid. But he was a bachelor, after all, despite the fact that he was in his forties, and she knew the girls in the office saw his interest in an entirely different light. She sometimes wondered if he was attracted to her in that way, particularly if he showed his impatience when one or other of the male members of his staff displayed any interest in her, and maybe her own abnegation of their overtures was partly to blame. But she had never confided the whole truth of her separation from Rachid to anyone, and although the facts were blatant enough, no one knew how emotionally enfeebling the break-up had been. She doubted her ability to enjoy a fulfilling relationship with any man ever again, and she was tempted to tell Brad he was guarding an empty shell.
    It was dark when she left the office that evening, even though it was only a little after five-thirty. Winter was drawing in, and already there was an icy chill in the air. The lamps of Marlborough Mews cast a mellow glow, however, and beyond, the busier thoroughfares were a mass of changing lights. Abby could hear the roar of the traffic and the impatient honking of car horns, and she couldn't help a momentary pang of nostalgia. In Abarein at this time of the year, the weather would be just cooling after the powerful heat of summer. During the day it would be a pleasant seventy-five or eighty degrees, with blue