Indecent Deception

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 client’s 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. Elaine’s 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 wouldn’t 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 Elaine’s 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.

Glynis swore at the sight of the abandoned dishes piled high on every surface and the smell of stale food. ‘She’s had a party and left us to clear it up. Well, she can forget that!’ she said aggressively.

‘We’re down for two hours extra here. Now we know why.’ Chrissy opened a window to air the room. ‘I’ll start in here, shall I? You can take the lounge,’ she suggested.

Glynis said something rude and stalked off. Chrissy worked quietly and efficiently, hoping that just for once Glynis was in the mood for work. Their schedule had to be strictly followed. Clients always specified hours when their homes were empty.

‘What do you think?’

Chrissy spun and her eyes widened incredulously. Glynis was doing a twirl in a fancy cocktail dress.

‘Couldn’t resist it...gorgeous, isn’t it? And she’ll never notice. The bedroom’s a tip. This was lying on the floor—’

‘For heaven’s sake, take it off and put it back!’ Chrissy gasped in horror.

‘Don’t be such a pain!’ Glynis groaned. ‘I’ve done the lounge. I’ll finish up in here if you like. I hate doing corner baths...’

‘Take it off!’ Chrissy repeated.

Glynis gave her a filthy look. ‘OK...OK. I can’t say you’re a barrel of fun to work with, can I?’ she snapped.

Chrissy had just entered the bathroom when she heard the front door open and the sound of voices, male and female mingling. She sprang upright, wondering frantically if Glynis had had time to change back into her overall. A brunette appeared in the doorway and frowned. ‘Aren’t you finished yet?’

‘I’m sorry, no.’ Chrissy made no attempt to point out that they had been booked for a specified time and were indeed still half an hour within that period. ‘Do you want us to leave?’

The elegant brunette pouted. ‘How long will it take you to finish up?’

‘About twenty minutes...’

‘I suppose I’ll have to put up with you, then, or I won’t be getting what I paid for,’ the brunette said witheringly.

‘Who are you talking to?’ a dismayingly familiar drawl interposed.

Blaze Kenyon strolled into view.

‘What are you doing h-here?’ Chrissy demanded in stark disbelief, her faith in the impossibility of two such glaring coincidences in one day severely shaken.

His brilliant blue eyes narrowed. ‘I was about to pick Leila up when we ran into each other earlier. What are you doing in her bathroom—?’

‘She’s supposed to be cleaning it!’ his female companion cut in thinly. ‘Are you telling me that you know this girl?’

‘You’re a cleaner?’ Blaze did not conceal his astonishment.

Leila curved a hand round his arm. ‘Come on, darling...the sooner she finishes, the quicker she’ll be out of here,’ she purred suggestively, but she eyed Chrissy with grim annoyance.

Chrissy felt utterly humiliated. She was not ashamed of what she did for a living. The hours suited her and the agency paid a reasonable rate. Three years ago she would never have dreamt that she would be cleaning other people’s homes to survive, but a lot of things had changed in those same three years. She had no false pride about her work, had indeed been grateful to have paid employment...until Blaze Kenyon surveyed her with well-bred amazement and suddenly made her feel like the lowest of the low.

‘Hell, that was close!’ Glynis whispered from the doorway. ‘I’ll finish the kitchen. You dump those flowers in the hall and we’ll get out!’

Chrissy was gathering the fallen petals off the carpet when she heard Blaze speaking. The lounge door wasn’t closed and he had a deep, carrying voice. Every word was crystal-clear.

‘When I say nouveau riche I mean nouveau riche. The Hamiltons were into spotlit bonsai trees and floodlit oils. Jim Hamilton is one of the most vulgar loudmouths one could meet...’

Chrissy straightened and froze, her facial muscles clenching painfully tight as she moved closer to the ajar door, the sound of her own ruptured breathing loud in her eardrums.

‘The mother was the worm that turned,’ Blaze drawled smoothly. ‘Belle was quite incapable of furthering Hamilton’s social aspirations. She drank too much and dropped the most frightful clangers with the happiest smiles. When the good life got too much, she ran off with a freezer salesman, who turned out to be a bigamist. Hamilton thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Night after night he dined out on the story with glee—’

‘What are you doing?’ Glynis demanded from behind her as Chrissy thrust the door wide.

Chrissy had the vase of wilted flowers in her hand. Blaze was indolently sprawled on the sofa several steps inside the door. Raising the vase, Chrissy up-ended the contents over Blaze Kenyon’s gleaming dark head.

Leila shrieked as though she had plunged a knife into his back. The vase contained a surprising amount of water. A deluge descended on Chrissy’s victim.

Blaze sprang up, scattering flowers, and spun round.

‘You p-pig!’ Chrissy shouted.

Blaze clawed wet hair off his brow with one hand, his glittering ice-blue eyes smouldering threat at Chrissy.

‘You are a p-pig!’ Without warning her bravado was punctured.

‘Are you crazy?’ the brunette screamed at her shrilly.

‘Angry,’ Blaze murmured drily.

‘I’m going to have you fired for this!’ Leila promised, grabbing up the phone and punching out a number.

Glynis came running with a towel and fervent apologies.

Chrissy stood there blinking in bewilderment. But inside her head she was still hearing Blaze slice her parents to ribbons, serving up her poor mother’s heartbreak as a grotesque source of entertainment. He was a filthy, rotten snob! Born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, grandson of an earl, Blaze had grown up against a background of rich, inherited privilege. His arrogance was that of an aristocrat, who had never known what it was to try and measure up to the expectations of a higher social class.

‘Your boss wants to speak to you!’ The smiling brunette extended the receiver like a hangman extending the noose.

On wooden legs, Chrissy stepped forward. Martin Cranmore was practically sobbing with rage at the other end of the line. What he said was short and sweet. White-faced and trembling, Chrissy looked at no one as she turned and walked out of the room. She gathered up her coat and bag.

Glynis caught her arm, oozing morbid fascination. ‘What the hell did you do it for? Do you know who that gorgeous hunk is?’

Pulling on her coat, Chrissy said nothing.

‘He’s that racehorse trainer! He’s the one with all the women, practically a harem from what you read in the papers!’ Glynis gushed excitedly.