Youve only bruised your pride and your backside. A teasing edge had softened his clipped vowels.
A second earlier she had been wondering at the icy edge to his tone when
he voiced her surname, but now that was forgotten as her teeth ground together. It might have been three years since she last saw him, but Blaze Kenyon still affected her much as a whip would laid across her sensitive flesh. I have to get to work, she enunciated with stiff dignity. N-nice meeting you again.
Blaze roared with laughter. Nice meeting me? I damned near ran over you! You should think twice before you throw yourself beneath my wheels.
I did not throw myself Chrissy began furiously.
Fortunately I have fast reflexes, Blaze murmured reflectively, choosing to concentrate on that aspect of the episode rather than the shock she had sustained.
I have to get to work, Chrissy repeated with wooden emphasis, and without another word she walked away with a ramrod-straight back, seethingly conscious of the amused sapphire eyes following in her wake. She ached to massage a certain throbbing portion of her anatomy, but she fought the need until she had entered the exclusive apartment block several yards away and knew herself safely out of sight. Her coat was sodden. She was soaked to the skin.
What happened to you? A slender blonde, clad in a matching overall, answered her urgent knock on the door of one of the ground-floor apartments and gaped at her bedraggled appearance.
I fell, Chrissy gasped, open prayer on her feverishly flushed features. Have you got anything I could borrow?
Sorry...youre supposed to carry a spare overall of your own, Glynis reminded her, looking superior.
I just cant afford to buy another one this month. I wash this one out every night.
Working a lying month is the pits, Glynis remarked without great interest as she cast herself down on a richly upholstered sofa and switched on the television with a flick of the remote-control.
Did Mr Cranmore phone? Chrissy was dabbing ineffectually at the stains on her overall with a handful of tissues. It would be just her luck if this was one of the days their mutual employer decided to do a spot check on one of his newest workers.
Relax, Glynis groaned. You worry too much.
Shouldnt we be getting started?
Run a vacuum over the place. Thats all it needs, Glynis advised, lighting up a cigarette and showing no sign of movement. I dont know why a couple as clean as this bother to use a cleaning agency...
Do you think you should be smoking here? Chrissy prompted uncomfortably on her passage to the cupboard where the vacuum was kept.
I deserve a break like anybody else.
If Martin Cranmore found anyone else slacking on the job, it would mean instant dismissal. But he had a soft spot for Glynis. Glynis had baby-blue eyes and fluffy blonde hair and they licensed her to get away with murder. The other cleaners hated her. None of the other women wanted to partner Glynis. The blonde never did her share of the work and, if there was a complaint, Chrissy had already been warned that it would not be Glynis who took the blame for it.
Chrissy had been employed by the Silent Sweep agency for just three weeks and she was desperate to hang on to her job. The cleaning agency had a rulebook a full half-inch thick, and within the space of one working day Chrissy had watched the blonde break every rule in it. The ultimate sin was to make oneself at home in a clients apartment. There was a strictly regimented list of tasks to be carried out on every visit...and those tasks were to be done even if they did not appear to be necessary. That was what the client was paying for. Silent, unseen service.
Blaze Kenyon. As Chrissy whizzed about with the vacuum, he leapt into her mind the instant she was free to think about him. He exploded out of her carefully blocked subconscious with the shock value of an evil genie. In his wake came a tidal wave of homesickness and a surge of very painful memories.
She was able to suppress the homesickness. After all, she no longer had a home worthy of sentimental recall, she reminded herself. Not only was her mother dead and her siblings married, but Chrissy herself was all too wretchedly aware that, no matter how bad things got, she could never expect her father to house her again.
The painful memories were far more resilient. Out there on the street, Blaze had committed the ultimate sin of seeing her as she used to be. The Hamilton family misfit. Elaines overweight, socially inadequate kid sister. Did he even remember his last encounter with Chrissy Hamilton? She shuddered at the very idea of him remembering. No, he wouldnt remember. A bottle of whisky on top of a recent family bereavement had made him more than usually callous and indifferent to the feelings of others. Humiliating Elaines kid sister had
cost him not a pang of conscience. He had been incredibly cruel, so cruel that Chrissy still carried the scars.
Glynis screened a yawn as they entered the third-floor apartment next on their schedule. Chrissy headed straight for the kitchen and stopped dead on the threshold. Oh, hell! she muttered in dismay, absorbing the devastation before her.