then, if that’s the way you feel about me, you don’t have to employ me — ’
‘Don’t tempt me!’ His savage tones cut across her soft husky accents. After a second’s pause the harsh tones went on. ‘Unfortunately, though I manage the station, and my dad’s made Rangimarie over to me, he still has some say in the running of the show. For reasons of his own he’s given you the job and that's it, but,’ his voice dropped to a low formidable note, ‘get this. You’d better pull your weight around the place or you’ll find yourself out on your ear so soon you’ll wonder what’s hit you! Another thing,’ he held her with his implacable gaze. ‘The way the old man’s talking, you’re Miss Supercook, Cordon Bleu, the lot!’ The cold tones lashed out at her. ‘You scarcely look the part ! ’ His cool gaze raked her small slender figure.
‘What?’ La ni e eyed him incredulously! She had taken in only the first part of what he had told her. ‘But I didn’t tell him anything of the sort!’ she protested hotly. ‘I made it plain to him that I wasn’t —’
‘Well then,’ came the hatefully mocking tones, ‘it’s up to you, isn’t it?’
‘And you’re hoping like mad,’ she flashed, ‘that I’ll make an unholy mess of things!’
‘Did I say so?’
‘You didn’t need to spell it out.’ She faced him with all the dignity she could muster—difficult when she barely came to his shoulder and he was so big. He was also the most maddening man she had ever come across in her life! ‘I mightn’t be the world ’ s top cook, ’ she flung at him, ‘but it’s all lies, the things you’re hinting at about me and Sandy!’
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Is it now? I wonder?’ All at once he had caught her bare arm in a hurtful grip. ‘You tell me you’re a cook, pure and simple and I say you’re nothing but a little opportunist, that you were on the make and when you saw a chance you took it — ’
‘ Let me go! ’
He took not the slightest notice of her struggles to free her arm from his painful grip. ‘Get this straight!’ He towered above her., setting her trembling. ‘If you’re going to work for me, you'd better be good !’ At last he released her.
Lanie rubbed her arm where his savage clasp had pressed into her soft flesh. ‘You don’t have to worry yourself about me,’ she cried breathlessly, ‘I’ll get a bus back to town in the morning!’
Jard held her defiant green gaze with his formidable glance.
‘No, you won’t! I’ m not having the old man upset at this stage of the game!’
‘Too bad.’ She scarcely knew what she was saying, with the anger boiling up inside her and exploding in a black cloud. She never knew she could hate anyone so much! ‘Let me tell you something!’ she flung at him. ‘On second thoughts I’ve changed my mind about going back to town. I can’t wait to show you just how mistaken you can be about people—about me!’
He sent her his hateful twisted smile. ‘Great!’ She knew by the sarcasm he put into the word that he simply didn’t believe her capable of proving herself to him, and the thought sparked her to throw him a challenging glance. ‘You might be surprised!’
His glance was definitely off-putting, but he merely remarked coolly, ‘I might at that.’ Then turning swiftly on his heel, he moved with his easy stride towards the door, and closed it behind him.
Through a mist of unshed tears Lanie gazed down at the red marks on her arm where his strong fingers had pressed into the flesh. She was still trembling. Nothing, she vowed, but nothing would stop her now from going on with this mad venture. She would prove Jard mistaken in his horrible misguided opinion of her, even if it took her the whole three months of her stay at Rangimarie to accomplish it. She didn’t know how she was going to convince him, she only knew she would. It would be worth working as a cook on his farm, worth anything, she told
Learning to Kill: Stories