Wild Melody by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online

beside
    her, his kisses light as Highland mist on her face. How warm she was, how
    safe. Then a shadow came between them, and someone was shaking the
    cloud, which was break-' ing up and dissolving. It was Jason Lord, his face
    satyr-like. 'Come down off Cloud Seven, Miss Muir,' he was saying. 'Come
    down. Come down.' And his hands were hard on her shoulders, shaking her
    so that she tried to cry out, only the cloud was muffling her.
    Gasping for breath, she struggled out from under the Continental quilt to
    find Jason Lord standing over her with a cup and saucer.
    'You are a violent little thing in the mornings,' he commented sarcastically.
    'Do you want this coffee in bed or over it?'

    Catriona stared at him for one panic-stricken moment, then huddled the
    quilt over her bare shoulders.
    'It's all right,' he said with studied patience. 'It's only your dress that's
    missing. I assumed you wouldn't want to ruin it by sleeping in it, so I put it
    on a hanger in the wardrobe.'
    'You did—what?'
    'Oh, grow up,' he snapped. 'You surely don't think there's anything indecent
    in that boned effort and long waist slip you're wearing. There were women
    at the party last night showing twice as much.'
    Catriona was crimson from head to foot. 'Do you mind telling me what I'm
    doing here?' she inquired icily.
    'With pleasure.' He sat down on the edge of the bed, to her immediate alarm.
    'You're here as a very temporary lodger, and as soon as I can get Sally
    Fenton on the telephone and talk her into taking you on, you're leaving.'
    Catriona quivered. 'I don't know that I care to be passed on like an unwanted
    package,' she began.
    'And I don't know that you have any choice,' he interrupted. 'I happen to
    know Sally is looking for another girl to share with, and it could be a way
    out of the woods for us both. I'm not happy at the idea of you drifting out
    into the city jungle with no one to keep an eye on you.'
    'I'm not a child,' Catriona said defiantly.
    'Oh, no. Your actions have been characterised by your maturity since you
    got off the train,' he retorted.
    'But I don't know this Sally,' she protested.
    'You know her as well as most girls who share flats these days. Often they
    just answer each other's ads. In your case, it's me doing the arranging
    instead of a newspaper. And I'm sure you'll like Sally.'

    'Well, that makes everything all right, doesn't it?' she said, trying to emulate
    his sarcasm.
    'Only you can do that,' he told her. 'You say you have nowhere to return to
    in Scotland. You may as well iive up to the story you told nephew Jeremy
    and try enjoying yourself in London for a change. Sally'll help you find a
    job of some kind. She's an actress, so she's used to finding herself temporary
    work between engagements.'
    'I see.' Catriona stared unseeingly at the pattern on the quilt. 'All right, I'll
    give it a try. And—thank you,' she added with difficulty.
    'Well, let's not strain common civility any further," he said, but he was
    smiling. 'Come on, drink this while it's still hot.'
    Catriona accepted the cup meekly and began to sip. She allowed Jason
    Lord to reach the door before halting him with a wide-eyed, 'Oh, Mr Lord.
    Forgive me for asking, but is Sally—one of your women?'
    She expected an angry outburst, but instead he leaned against the door,
    smiling lazily.
    'No, as a matter of fact, though I'm flattered by your in- * terest,' he said.
    'Can it be because you imagine you've joined those select ranks yourself?'
    In spite of the sheltering quilt and her quite adequate covering beneath it,
    Catriona felt naked under his insolent gaze.
    'If so, let me disabuse your little head of any such notion.' His voice
    lengthened to a drawl. 'As I told you last night, I don't take sweets from
    babies, especially when they're asleep. Among other things I require of
    "my women", as you so elegantly put it, is that they at least remain awake
    and give me their undivided attention. You fail on both counts.'
    And the door