Читать книгу Substitute Bride - Angela Devine - Страница 6

‘MIRROR, mirror, on the wall, should I many Raymond Hall?’

Laura Madison gazed steadily at her own perplexed reflection and heaved a faint sigh. At twenty-nine she had begun to think of herself as a confirmed career woman, and Ray’s proposal the previous evening had taken her completely by surprise. Although they had been friends for more than a year, she had never imagined that he thought of her as a possible wife.

A competent accountant, yes. A theatre companion, a tennis partner, a fellow gourmet, certainly. But someone who would share his entire life? It was unthinkable! Yet she had promised to think about it…and to give him his answer today. Her spirits sank at the prospect. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, with her sister’s crazy request blurted out over the telephone only an hour ago!

Suddenly the loud toot of a car horn down below broke into her reverie. She hurried into the sitting room and hauled up the window.

‘Bea!’ she whispered in exasperation. ‘It’s only five thirty a.m. You’ll wake the people in the other flats! And that’s a no parking zone.’

Her younger sister grinned up at her, thrusting her long hair back off her face in a gesture that made her one of the most photographed models in Australia. Evidently Bea’s mercurial spirits had taken an upward turn after her earlier gloom.

‘Who cares? Anyway, you’d better hurry up or you’ll be late for the airport.’

Plodding back into the hall and giving herself a final, despairing grimace in the mirror, Laura picked up her overnight bag and went downstairs.

‘Now, are you clear on what you’ve got to do?’ asked Bea, reversing out of the driveway with a squeal of tyres that made her sibling shudder.

‘Yes!’ retorted Laura savagely. ‘I fly down to Tasmania on your plane ticket, pretending I’m you. Sam will arrive on a later plane and meet me at the real estate agent’s office. Then we go and view the house together. But I still don’t see the need for all this.’

‘I already explained it, La-La,’ said Bea, weaving in and out of the Sydney traffic, which was already heavy even at this hour. ‘A wonderful house has just come on the market at a bargain price and Sam’s uncle James wants to give it to us as a wedding present. But he only has a twenty-four-hour option to purchase, so we must look over it today. Except I can’t fly to Tasmania myself, because I’ve got to go to court here in Sydney on a dangerous driving charge. It’s so unfair! I wasn’t driving dangerously. My foot just slipped on the accelerator and—’

‘Never mind that now!’ cut in Laura. ‘Why don’t you simply tell Uncle James that you can’t come with Sam?’

‘Because he already disapproves of me. I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve heard he really hates the thought of his precious nephew marrying an airhead fashion model. He’s already spoken to Sam several times on the phone, trying to persuade him to call off the marriage because he thinks I’m such a fruit-loop. Too young, too irresponsible and “everyone knows that models sleep around”.’

‘But that’s utterly unfair!’ cried Laura hotly. ‘Why should he condemn you when he’s never even met you?’

Bea shrugged. Although she was trying to look tough, Laura saw the unmistakable flash of hurt in her dark eyes. It brought back memories of Bea at the age of five, clutching her teddy and glaring defiantly at the fosterworker who had taken them into care after their mother’s death.

‘Search me,’ said Bea. ‘It seems a bit rich considering that good old Uncle James has a reputation for seducing anything that moves, while I’ve only ever slept with Sam. But everyone in the Fraser family seems to dance to James’s tune. Even Sam.’

‘Why? What’s so special about this man?’ demanded Laura indignantly.

‘Well, according to Sam, he’s tremendously dynamic and hell-bent on having control of everything—not to mention filthy rich and dangerous to oppose. To be honest, I think Sam’s very brave to insist on marrying me when James is against it. And I don’t want James spoiling the wedding by becoming even more poisonous, which he will if he finds out about this dangerous driving charge. That’s why you’ve got to cover for me!’

Laura shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘But supposing James turns up while we’re viewing the house? Won’t he get a bit of a shock if Sam introduces me as his fiancée and then marries a completely different woman the weekend after this?’

Bea gave a throaty chuckle.

‘Don’t be such a worry-wart, Laura. James won’t set eyes on you today. He’s going to look at a prize bull for his beef herd and he’ll be miles away. All he needs to believe is that I’ve shown up, as per instructions. And you’re wearing my clothes and make-up, so everyone else will think you’re me. What can possibly go wrong?’

Laura found out the answer to that shortly after lunchtime. It was a crisp, sunny late winter’s day, with snow blanketing the dark blue mountain that loomed behind the city of Hobart and dazzling sunlight reflecting off the paler blue waters of the Derwent estuary. After an uneventful flight, a few hours’ shopping and a pleasant lunch at the Sheraton, she was beginning to think her earlier fears had all been groundless. Until she went to the real estate agent’s office to meet Sam.

‘Hello—Miss Walters? My name is…Bea Madison. I’m supposed to meet my fiancé, Sam Fraser, here, and we’re to view a house together.’

‘Yes, of course, Miss Madison. But I’m afraid your fiancé hasn’t arrived yet and I have another appointment at two o’clock. Would you mind if I take you directly to the house, and we’ll leave a message for him to come and join us as soon as he gets here?’

‘No, not at all,’ said Laura, although she couldn’t help feeling slightly taken aback. Where on earth could Sam be?

The house was enchanting, and she felt a brief pang of envy at the thought of Bea living there. Dear Bea, she was so sweet, but she would never appreciate the perfection of the glowing pink camellias in the garden, or the dark panelled entrance hall, or the gracious old sitting room with its antique furniture and its sweeping green lawns that led right down to the beachfront. Bea wasn’t interested in tranquillity; she would far rather have a penthouse in the middle of Sydney’s hectic King’s Cross any day of the week!

Laura wandered round the house, touching the polished woodwork and thinking how much she would like to live there herself. Only her feelings of awkwardness about the situation and the occasional furtive glances that the real estate agent kept darting at her watch made her feel at all uncomfortable.

‘Miss Walters, if you’ve got another appointment, could you leave me here to wait for Sam?’ she asked at last. ‘I’d be only too happy to do that. I can always…er…measure up for curtains or something while I’m waiting.’

The estate agent’s face cleared.

‘Well, if you’re sure…’

‘I’m sure. Thank you for showing me around.’

With a feeling of relief, Laura retreated into the dining room and heard the other woman’s steps receding down the front path. She was just beginning to relax when the sound of a stopping car and an exchange of voices brought her senses back to full alert. One of the voices was the real estate agent’s, high and twittery, but the other was deep, resonant and masculine. Laura hurried into the entrance hall with a welcoming smile on her lips.

‘Sam, I’m so glad—’

She stopped in her tracks with a chill feeling of misgiving. It wasn’t Bea’s fiancé who stood in the doorway surveying her from under frowning dark eyebrows. In spite of his twenty-four years, Sam always seemed like a big kid to Laura, but there was no questioning that this newcomer was a fully grown man.

He was tall and powerfully built, in his mid to late thirties, with glossy dark hair and a face as arrogant and haughty as an eagle’s, with the same disconcerting tawnyeyed stare. The resemblance to a bird of prey was intensified by the strong line of his nose and the pitiless, predatory curve of his mouth. Although he was dressed in conservative well-cut clothes—a camel-coloured cashmere coat worn over brown woollen trousers, a beige shirt, heather mix tie and tweed jacket—Laura couldn’t control the rush of dread that overtook her at the sight of him.

A flurry of adjectives crowded into her mind to describe him, all of them inadequate. Shrewd, dangerous, demanding, unforgiving. The kind of man who made every woman in a room come on heat the moment he appeared. When he advanced on her with his hand outstretched, she flinched visibly.

‘You must be Beatrice,’ he said, seizing her cold fingers in a warm, crushing grip. ‘I’m Sam’s uncle, James Fraser.’

Her spirits plummeted, and the knowledge of her false position filled her with a hot rush of shame. In that moment her confidence ebbed away, so that she no longer felt like a grown woman and a capable accountant. Instead she was an eleven-year-old orphan with a knot of dread in her stomach and a fierce determination to protect her little sister. But how could she protect Bea now? The game was up and the only thing she could do was confess the truth.

As she looked into James Fraser’s opaque golden eyes she knew with a sickening feeling that he would never forgive either of them. She should never have let Bea talk her into this ridiculous imposture!

‘There’s something I have to explain,’ she began haltingly. ‘An apology—’

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ he cut in. ‘You’re going to tell me that Sam’s been caught up in this wretched airline strike so he can’t join us here. Don’t worry, there’s no apology needed. I know all about it.’

That was more than Laura did. She stood staring at him in horror.

‘Airline strike?’ she echoed stupidly.

‘Oh, hadn’t you heard? The passenger planes all around Australia have been grounded since eight o’clock this morning. You were lucky you left Sydney when you did. Once I heard the news on the radio I realised that you’d be stranded down here without Sam to look after you. Under the circumstances I decided I’d better drive down and rescue you. If you’ve finished looking over the house, I’ll drive you back to my home on the east coast and Sam can join us there as soon as he can find transport.’

Laura blinked as the full horror of her situation began to dawn on her.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said faintly.

‘Not at all. And there’s no need to look as if I’m going to bite you. My intentions are friendly, I assure you.’

As he spoke he gave her a fleeting smile which made her feel more alarmed than ever. There was something feral in it, mingled with an unexpected charm, so that Laura’s heart knocked against her ribs and she was left feeling oddly breathless. Oh, Lord, that’s all I need! she thought in dismay. A case of teenage heartburn for Wicked Uncle James.

What upset her most was the way that he was meeting her evasive glance with an amused, mocking stare, as if he could read her thoughts. Worse still, he seemed to realise that she found him physically attractive and his reaction was alarmingly blatant. His eyes narrowed as they rested on her and he ran the tip of his tongue along his slightly uneven white teeth, as if he were wondering how she would taste. There was something indecently sensual in that action.

As far as James Fraser knew, she was his nephew’s intended bride. So how dared he look at her as if she were something succulent to eat? Or was she imagining it? After all, was it really likely that a man as devastatingly charismatic as James Fraser would be looking at her with a gleam of naked lust in his eyes? Of course not! Now, if she really were Bea, it would be understandable. All the same, his silent, lazy scrutiny made her go hot and cold with consternation.

Fortunately she was saved from replying by the sound of the real estate agent’s footsteps returning down the path. The older woman smiled at her and handed her a mobile phone.

‘It’s your sister, Laura, Miss Madison. She wants to speak to you. Why don’t you take it into the sunroom if you want some privacy?’

Feeling slightly schizophrenic at the announcement that Laura wanted to speak to her, Laura staggered obediently into the sunroom, closed the door and slumped against it.

‘Laura? This is Bea. I’m in a phone box at the court house. Listen, something awkward has happened. There’s a plane strike on and Sam can’t get down to Hobart to join you.’

‘That’s not the only awkward thing that’s happened,’ hissed Laura. ‘Sam’s Uncle James has just turned up here at the house.’

‘Oh, no!’ shrieked Bea. ‘Does he know you’re not me?’

‘Shh! Keep your voice down. No, he doesn’t know yet, but I’ll have to tell him.’

‘You can’t, Laura! He’ll never forgive me. He’ll refuse to come to the wedding and Sam will be furious with me. Please don’t tell him.’

‘What else can I do?’

‘Well, you could bluff it out a bit longer. Maybe we could switch places on the wedding day and he wouldn’t notice.’

Laura gave a ferocious snarl of laughter.

‘Be serious! You’re four inches taller, twenty pounds lighter and six years younger than I am, and you have an empty space between your ears whereas I have a brain. Or I used to think I had!’

‘I don’t know why you’re telling me to keep my voice down,’ said Bea plaintively. ‘Laura, just keep it going a bit longer. Please, please? Only until the air strike is over. Then I swear I’ll come down and confess it all to him myself. After all, I’m the one to blame, aren’t I? And if you tell him now he’ll shout at you, instead of me. You know how you hate people shouting.’

Laura opened her mouth to argue, then gritted her teeth. Why not do exactly what Bea suggested? Let her get herself out of her hare-brained schemes for once, instead of expecting Laura to rush around setting things right for her! It would serve her right.

But that’s not fair to James, protested a small voice inside her. Defiantly, Laura pushed down the niggling doubt. Let James take care of himself! He looked tough enough to cope if the truth came out. Besides, after the arrogant, unjust prejudice he had shown towards Bea, he deserved whatever he got! And if he had been mentally undressing Laura, he deserved to be taken down a peg or two.

Her next words surprised her just as much as they did her sister. ‘All right. But you’re going to owe me for this, Bea.’

She had little time to regret her rash decision, for as soon as she emerged with the telephone James instructed the real estate agent to lock up the house and hustled Laura into his gleaming silver Mercedes, which was parked outside. As the car purred north he cast her a keen sideways glance.

‘How did you like the house?’ he asked.

‘It’s lovely!’

‘You think you’ll be happy to live there, then?’

She flushed crimson at the unwelcome reminder that she wouldn’t be the one living there in any case. This was going to be a dangerous conversation. She would have to remember that she was supposed to be Bea, with all of Bea’s very different attitudes, although perhaps without quite so much of her sister’s flamboyance.

‘Yes, I’m sure I will,’ she said in a subdued voice.

‘You’re not going to miss the fast-track life in Sydney too much?’

Laura hung her head and paused before answering. Privately she had worried about the same thing herself. Bea was such a pleasure-loving creature, always going out to parties and discos. It had come as a complete shock when she had fallen for the silent, rugged Sam Fraser, who was more at home on the back of a horse than on a dance-floor. But Laura had no doubts about the depths of her sister’s attachment.

‘I’ll have Sam to help me.’

James’s mouth tightened.

‘Where did you meet Sam?’

‘On a country property near Tamworth. He was working as a stockman there and I…I was modelling some country clothes for a photographic shoot.’

Laura held her breath, wondering whether the truth was going to come out this very moment. Surely a single glance would be enough to convince James that she wasn’t tall enough or thin enough or young enough or gorgeous enough to be a fashion model? But James seemed to have no trouble at all in accepting her in that role. Perhaps it was because she had taken the precaution of wearing Bea’s appalling striped cardigan over her own tan knitted trouser suit. She had also left her long dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders and made up her face with far more lipstick and eyeshadow than she normally used. The whole effect made her feel like a different woman—swashbuckling, assertive and decidedly reckless. Was this how Bea felt all the time?

‘How long ago did you meet?’

‘Six months.’

‘Six months? That’s not long to decide that you want to be married.’

Laura’s eyes flashed.

‘It was long enough for me.’ She thought of Sam and tried to immerse herself in the feeling she knew Bea had for him, but it was no use. All Sam could ever be to her was a kind of pleasant younger brother. Perhaps the knowledge showed in her face, for she heard her voice waver unconvincingly. ‘I’m in love with him.’

‘Are you indeed?’ James’s eyebrows rose sceptically. ‘Well, perhaps. But love on its own seems a rather inadequate basis for a marriage.’

There was a definite sneer in his tone now, and Laura’s fighting instincts were roused.

‘I don’t agree with you,’ she snapped. ‘I think it’s the most important basis there is.’

‘And did you get that impression from your own family?’

She could feel her whole body tensing, as if she were a wounded animal readying itself for fight or flight, as the memories of her own unsatisfactory family came crowding back to her. How much had Sam told this hateful man about it? He must have told him something, surely? In vain she struggled to keep her voice steady.

‘No, I didn’t get it from my family. I don’t know how much Sam has told you, but I don’t have any family to speak of. Only a sister. Our parents were migrants and they split up when we were small. My mother died of cancer when I was el…five, and my father never came back. We spent most of our childhood in foster homes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said curtly.

‘So am I.’

Maybe he was genuinely sorry, but to her defensive ears something in his voice sounded disdainful, as if her background was exactly what he’d expected. Not her fault, perhaps, but nothing to be proud of either. She was shocked by the blaze of rage that filled her. How dared he sit there, making these smug judgements about her…or Bea? Well, it served him right that they were making a fool of him!

Ordinarily she would have felt guilty and embarrassed about taking part in such a brazen deception, but James seemed to bring out the worst in her, revealing a side of her character that she had never dreamed existed. Reckless, defiant and totally deceitful. All the same, the old, familiar Laura was probably lurking somewhere in the background, all ready to give the game away by stammering and contradicting herself. Perhaps it was best to avoid conversation as much as possible?

Not wanting to be interrogated any further, she gave an exaggerated yawn and rubbed her left hand over her eyes.

‘Look, if you don’t mind, I might try and get some sleep; it’s been a long day.’

‘Of course. We still have a three-hour drive ahead of us, so that’s a sensible idea.’

Through the fringe of her half-closed eyelashes, Laura saw James glance at her assessingly from time to time. Yet, in spite of the way a self-conscious flush was mounting to her cheeks, she somehow managed to keep her breathing quiet and regular. Would he discover how she had tricked him? Would he be furious when he did? Somehow the prospect of seeing James Fraser absolutely wild with rage sent a tremor of sensation through her limbs that was closer to excitement than apprehension.

Would he shout and storm around the room, grab her by the shoulders and thrust his face close to hers as he demanded an explanation? She imagined how it would feel to have those tough, masculine hands seizing her urgently and that hawk-like face so close to hers that she could see the network of tiny lines around his eyes and the way his white, even teeth gritted together…

She swallowed hard and tried to remember what Sam had told her about his uncle, but it didn’t amount to much. Sam was a naturally taciturn person, and in any case Laura had not had the faintest idea that the information would ever prove important to her.

Vaguely she had the impression that Sam’s family had settled in the colony of Van Diemen’s Land in the very early days and that they had old money derived from the farming of merino sheep and the ownership of a woollen mill in Hobart. But about James himself she knew tantalisingly little. Only that he had taught Sam to ride and fish and had been an unsparing taskmaster when his nephew had worked on his property for two years as a stockman.

She couldn’t remember anything about his private life, except for a faint inkling that there had been an unhappy marriage somewhere. Or was that Sam’s other uncle on his mother’s side? If James had a friendly, sympathetic wife tucked away, it might make it easier for Bea or Laura to make a full confession. Yet for some reason the thought of James having any kind of wife, sympathetic or otherwise, sent a sharp pain like a toothache lancing through her.

Oh, Laura, you fool, she thought despairingly. You don’t even like the man, and that physical magnetism is obviously something he switches on for any woman who comes near him. Didn’t Bea say he had a reputation for seducing anything that moved? So you’re not really stupid enough to fall for him, are you? Think about Ray instead!

Dutifully she summoned up the image of Ray crouched over a computer screen, patting his thinning fair hair fussily into place and complimenting her on her spreadsheets, but it didn’t help. Ray seemed a million miles away, while this disturbing stranger was vibrantly present and impossible to ignore.

A sudden spatter of rain struck the car and she heard the swish of the windscreen wipers starting up. Deliberately she tried to lose herself in the details of the weather—the tug of the wind, the rattle of the raindrops, the hiss of the tyres on the wet road—and she was so successful that soon her pretence of dozing became real. Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a shallow sigh and slept.

She was woken by the movement of the car turning off the tarmac onto a dirt road and lurching up a hill. An involuntary cry of surprise escaped her as she realised where she was. James glanced across and spoke in a polite but distant tone, as if he were talking to a stranger rather than a new member of the family.

‘We’re nearly there now. Do you want to get out and look at the view?’

He stopped the car and she climbed out and joined him on the crest of the hill. She uttered a low gasp of admiration as she looked at the panorama spread out before them. It had stopped raining and the sea was a deep cobalt blue, which throbbed and heaved around the distant peaks of a group of islands. The sky was filled with the slanting radiance of the late afternoon sun and the breeze from the ocean brought the tang of salt, mingled with the scent of eucalyptus trees and fresh, damp earth.

‘That’s my house,’ said James.

Laura followed the line of his pointing finger and saw a substantial honey-coloured Georgian building tucked into the lee of the hillside so that it was sheltered from the fierce westerly winds. Around it a splash of vivid green colour marked the limits of the garden and beyond that were paddocks full of golden grass where sheep stood in peaceful groups. One or two even had early lambs frisking beside them.

‘It’s beautiful!’ she exclaimed.

‘I’m glad you think so,’ he replied, with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows. ‘I imagine you’ll be spending a fair bit of time here if Sam has his way. He loves the land, you know. Even though he has agreed to manage the woollen mill in Hobart for me it’s likely that he’ll be up here every chance he gets, dealing with the sheep himself. Are you sure you won’t get bored?’

There was no mistaking his antagonism now. He doesn’t want me to marry his precious nephew one bit, thought Laura indignantly. Or he doesn’t want Bea to many him, which comes to the same thing. He ought to give her…me…a chance!

‘I’ll manage,’ she said coolly. ‘I can always dress up in some fancy clothes and put on a fashion parade for the sheep if I get bored, can’t I?’

He looked at her sharply, as if he were not sure whether she was joking or not. Then, with a grunt of exasperation, he led the way back to the car. They finished the rest of the journey in silence, but in spite of his unmistakable hostility James couldn’t quite overcome his instincts as a host. He carried Laura’s bag in from the car, held the door open for her as she entered the house and showed her into a bedroom which was filled with all the comforts a guest could possibly want. Fresh flowers, tissues, a carafe of water and a tin of biscuits, folded towels, a supply of brightly coloured paperbacks. Yet his voice was still curt when he spoke to her.

‘I hope you won’t mind fending for yourself for a couple of hours. I’m afraid I’ve still got to go and inspect the prize bull that I intended to look at this morning, but I shouldn’t be gone for very long. Just make yourself at home, take a bath, fix a snackwhatever you want to do. I’ll cook a proper meal when I get back.’

Left alone, Laura immediately rushed to the telephone to ring Bea, in the hope of having another consultation about her difficult position, but infuriatingly, although the phone rang and rang, Bea didn’t answer. Trying Sam’s number didn’t help either. All she got there was the answering machine and she left a very terse message on it, instructing Bea to phone her immediately.

After that, she sat down with a groan and ran her hands through her hair. How long was she going to be stranded here? Sometimes in the past airline strikes to Tasmania had gone on for weeks, although in that case the Air Force usually ran an emergency service to get sick people or desperate cases on and off the island. But however desperate Laura might feel, she didn’t think the Air Force would consider her a case for emergency evacuation! Well, that just left the overnight boat ferry. If all else failed, perhaps she could hire a car, drive to Devonport and sail back to the mainland.

That still left her with the problem of what was going to happen at the wedding. Even if Bea kept her promise and explained the whole masquerade to James, it still left them with the awkward situation of staging a wedding where the bridegroom’s uncle might well murder the bride and the chief bridesmaid. Which Laura couldn’t help feeling would cast a damper over the proceedings.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and shuddered. Why had she ever let Bea talk her into this? Still, there was nothing to be gained by sitting around brooding about it. She might as well accept James’s rather grudging invitation and take a look at the place.

It was certainly the kind of house to appeal to her, she decided after a leisurely tour, even if Bea would probably complain that it looked like a museum. All the rooms were graciously proportioned, with carved wooden mantelpieces, lovingly polished antique furniture and dazzling views over the ocean or the hills to the west. Even so, some discreet remodelling had taken place to supply each of the five bedrooms with its own en suite bathroom and to provide a kitchen and laundry that had a colonial look but that still concealed the most up-to-date appliances.

Realising she was hungry, Laura opened the refrigerator and found a tempting array of goodies. Smoked salmon, paté, cold meat, a variety of cheeses, vegetables, eggs, a chicken, a bowl of unshelled prawns. She was just about to take out the ingredients for a ham sandwich when a sudden thought struck her. Why not start cooking dinner herself?

With James’s disturbing presence temporarily removed, her antagonism was beginning to ebb away and she felt more like her usual self. Calm, sensible, anxious to smooth things over. Even that long, sultry, assessing look he had given her when they first met seemed more and more a product of her own fevered imagination. Probably the truth was that he was simply a conscientious uncle, worried that Sam and Bea were embarking on marriage too soon. And if that was the case, it was up to her to try and placate him.

She must do all that she could to show him that she and Bea were both mature, reliable people. And what better way than by pampering him a bit? He would be tired when he came in from inspecting the bull and it was hardly likely that he would really want to make a meal. Of course, he might feel that she was intruding, but on the other hand he had invited her to help herself to a snack. And perhaps it would even soften him up for the moment when they made their final confession. Humming to herself, she lifted out the dish of prawns…

* * *

‘That was an excellent meal,’ admitted James as he drained the last of his coffee with a sigh of satisfaction.

Laura looked at the table with a touch of complacency. Avocado filled with prawns in a seafood dressing had been followed by a stuffed roast chicken with Greek baked potatoes, zucchini and tomatoes and an apple crumble with cinnamon topping and whipped cream. James had opened a bottle of Houghton’s white burgundy and they had brewed fresh coffee to complete the meal. The conversation had gone well too, and she had seen the surprised flash of respect in his eyes when she had made a casual remark about government agricultural policy.

Although they were still fencing with each other, she thought she detected a softening in his initial antagonism towards her. And, rather reluctantly, she had to admit that she found him very interesting company.

‘Would you like some more coffee?’ she asked.

‘All right,’ he agreed, rising to his feet. ‘Why don’t you bring it into the living room? I’m going to set a match to the fire in there.’

As he spoke a sudden, sharp gust of wind set the windowpanes rattling, and a spatter of drops struck against the glass. Striding across the room, James closed the cedar shutters firmly, shutting out the gathering darkness and rain. It was a simple action and yet it made Laura feel odd—as if they were holing up together in some snug, little lair and turning their backs on the outside world. There was something alarming about the idea of drawing close to a hissing, crackling orange fire with James Fraser while a storm raged and buffeted outside.

Suddenly she became aware that he was watching her through narrowed eyes and she dropped her gaze self-consciously. Her heart raced and she no longer felt so certain that she had imagined that sensual glance he had given her earlier in the day. What if he really was wondering what it would be like to take off her clothes and lay her down on the sheepskin rug in the firelight? Bea had once told her that she had a very expressive face, but she hoped devoutly that that wasn’t true! If her face was expressing half the things she was thinking tonight, she was in big trouble…

‘I’ll get the coffee,’ she said, retreating into the kitchen.

When she came into the living room ten minutes later, James was crouched on the hearth, feeding the flames with more substantial lengths of wood. The glow from the firelight made his eyes glitter and highlighted the rugged contours of his face, making him look like some primitive caveman. Suddenly he looked up at her with an expression that made Laura’s breath catch in her throat.

No, she hadn’t imagined that silent, sensual appraisal earlier in the day, for he was doing it again now. And this time she was powerless even to turn her head away. All she could do was stare at him with her lips half parted and her shoulders tensed as if to ward off danger.

Before he went out to inspect the bull, he had changed into denim jeans and an open-necked flannel shirt which was now rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms spiked with dark hair that glowed bronze in the firelight. As he rose to his feet, still trapping her in that mesmerising gaze, she felt again that she was a waif, a stray, an outcast seeking shelter in a hostile world. And it didn’t seem at all likely that this threatening stranger was going to take pity on her.

The cup clattered in its saucer as she handed it to him.

He added sugar, stirred the coffee and drank it down without ever taking his eyes off her. Then he reached behind him and set the empty china on the mantelpiece.

‘Tell me something,’ he said harshly. ‘What’s the real truth behind all this?’