Читать книгу Carole Mortimer Romance Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 14

‘HELLO, Silke.’

‘Go away, Lyon.’ She closed the door back in his face, wishing she had never opened it in the first place; she should have guessed who it was ringing her doorbell! She had only returned from Henry’s house just over an hour ago; she should have realised that Lyon’s arrogance wouldn’t allow him to be dismissed in the angry way she had done.

But Lyon moved quicker than she did, putting his foot inside the door, making it impossible for her to completely close it, a determined expression on his face.

Silke stood her ground, keeping the door closed as far as it would go. ‘I said go away, Lyon,’ she told him forcefully.

He met her gaze steadily, his expression grim now. ‘I want to talk to you,’ he bit out harshly.

Her head went back defensively. ‘And it must be obvious that I have nothing to say to you.’

Lyon shook his head. ‘We have a lot to say to each other.’

‘I don’t think so,’ she bit out tersely.

‘Silke—’

‘Please go, Lyon,’ she said, more desperately this time; if he didn’t go away soon she was going to cry.

She had left Henry’s house earlier as if the devil were on her heels, had just wanted to get away from both men. And she didn’t feel any more like dealing with Lyon now than she had then; she needed time to herself, to think, to try to sort out what she was going to do with her life. One thing she did know: she couldn’t stay on here in London; she would have to make a complete break, otherwise she would never be free of seeing Lyon. And having to constantly deal with her feelings for him.

‘For God’s sake let me in, Silke,’ he muttered as her neighbour across the hallway came out of his flat, the man looking at them curiously as he did so.

It irritated her that she was being manipulated in this way, but she accepted they must look rather odd, her standing so defensively in her half-open doorway, Lyon so arrogantly demanding on her doorstep.

She opened the door reluctantly, moving back into her sitting-room. Two minutes, she promised herself, and then he was going to leave again. Anything they had to say to each other could be said in that time!

‘You’re going away.’ Lyon bit the statement out harshly.

She turned almost guiltily, groaning inwardly as she saw that she had left her bedroom door open, her open case on the bed, clothes strewn across the bed as she haphazardly decided what she was going to take away with her. She had decided on the drive back home that she would have to go away for a couple of days anyway, just to distance herself from this whole situation. And from the look on Lyon’s face he wasn’t at all pleased at the idea of her going anywhere. Tough!

‘Yes,’ she answered challengingly. ‘I—’ She broke off as the doorbell rang. If that was her mother or Henry—!

Lyon looked far from pleased at the interruption too, glaring after Silke as she went to answer the door. As she opened the door and saw who her visitor was Silke knew he was going to be even more furious. She wasn’t too pleased herself!

Not again! She couldn’t believe this; she hadn’t seen James for a year, and now he had appeared at her door twice in a week—and both times Lyon had been here too. And Lyon would never believe it was simply coincidence. Though what did it matter what Lyon believed? It was none of his business who chose to visit her!

‘Hello, Silke,’ James greeted slightly awkwardly. ‘I just—’

‘You again!’ Lyon rasped accusingly, having moved to stand just behind Silke without her having been aware of it, looking arrogantly over the top of her head at the other man now, cold anger in glittering grey eyes. ‘Don’t you have a wife to go home to?’ he added challengingly.

Silke gasped at his bluntness—but then, when had Lyon ever been anything else? ‘Lyon, I don’t think—’ she began.

‘No, you obviously aren’t thinking at all,’ he bit out contemptuously, his mouth curled back in a half-sneer. ‘You lied to me earlier, Silke,’ he said coldly. ‘It’s obvious now exactly who you’re going away with. You silly little fool, don’t you realise—?’

‘Hey, I don’t think you should be talking to Silke like that,’ James gave a perplexed frown.

‘You stay out of this,’ Lyon told the other man with dismissive arrogance, eyes glittering a warning before he turned to Silke. ‘When you come to your senses, my offer may no longer be available,’ he warned her harshly.

Her head went back defensively. ‘Which offer would that be?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Both of them!’

‘I’m not interested in either of them!’ She shook her head, meeting his gaze with steady determination.

He glanced contemptuously at the still slightly puzzled James, before turning back to Silke. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing,’ he bit out forcefully, shaking his head—as if he were absolutely sure she couldn’t possibly know.

‘I know exactly what I’m doing, Lyon,’ she told him with certainty. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have my packing to finish,’ she added pointedly.

He drew in a harshly angry breath. ‘God, Silke, you—’

‘Goodbye, Lyon,’ she cut in firmly; if he didn’t soon leave her legs were going to buckle beneath her and she was going to collapse in a heap on the carpet at his feet!

He gave James a coldly quelling glare before looking back at Silke. ‘Your family will still be here for you when you decide you need them again—which I don’t think will be too far in the future!’ he added with another disgusted glance in James’s direction.

‘My family!’ She almost choked over the statement; a week ago this man had been fighting any connection with her at all; now he claimed to be part of her family! The man was incredible!

‘Yes, family, Silke,’ he echoed challengingly.

Silke couldn’t be bothered to argue with him any more, especially in front of James; but ‘family’ was the last thing she considered Lyon to be. And he must have a very short memory himself if he really thought he could claim that! And she knew damn well there was nothing wrong whatsoever with Lyon’s memory.

‘Goodbye, Lyon,’ she said almost wearily.

‘Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind about this?’ His tone had softened slightly. ‘Silke, you know what happened before, and the situation is so much worse now. Please think about what you’re doing.’ The last was added almost gently.

She knew he believed her to be going away with James, and she could see how displeased he was at that idea, and part of her wanted to tell him that she wasn’t doing that at all. But the sensible side of her knew it would achieve nothing, that she had to go away anyway, and perhaps it was better, for the moment, to let Lyon go on believing she was leaving with James. She would tell her mother the truth, obviously, wouldn’t let her worry unnecessarily.

‘I’ve thought, Lyon,’ she told him huskily. ‘And this is what I want.’

His mouth tightened again. ‘Very well,’ he bit out harshly before walking to the door. But he didn’t leave straight away, stopping in front of James, looking coldly at the younger man. ‘Take care of her, Cameron. Or this time you’ll have me to answer to,’ he added ominously.

Silke frowned after him as he finally left. Part of her had been resentful of his slightly possessive tone. The rest of her had felt the warmth of her love for him. And it was the latter she had to fight now; Lyon didn’t love her, just felt he had some sort of proprietorial right to her because of what had happened between them.

She suddenly became aware of James’s curious look, and attempted to shake off her gloom concerning Lyon as she returned James’s gaze.

He grimaced. ‘Bad timing again!’

Her mouth twisted. ‘You could say that.’

James nodded. ‘Who is that man?’

She stiffened. ‘Is it important?’

He shrugged. ‘Not if you don’t want to tell me. And why should you?’ he dismissed self-derisively. ‘I actually only called round to tell you that Cheryl and I are all right again now. After last week I thought I owed you that at least,’ he added sheepishly. ‘You must think I’m a complete idiot!’

‘Come in, James,’ she invited wearily, wondering how she had ever thought this man was strong and capable; he had behaved like a hurt little boy this last couple of weeks, wanting to get back the toy he had given up because the one he really wanted had decided not to play for a while. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea or something?’ she offered once he had come in and closed the door behind him.

‘No, thanks. Cheryl will be expecting me home soon,’ he added with a self-conscious grimace.

Silke nodded. ‘I’m glad the two of you have sorted things out.’

‘I behaved like an idiot last week, didn’t I?’ He sighed. ‘It’s just that things were so awful between Cheryl and me, and then I began to wonder if I hadn’t made a mistake giving you up, and—’

‘It really doesn’t matter, James,’ she cut in dismissively. ‘There’s no harm done. Either with me or Cheryl,’ she added ruefully.

‘I was obviously wasting my time with you.’ He nodded.

Silke gave him a sharp look. ‘What do you mean?’

He gave her an affectionate smile. ‘You love that man Lyon, don’t you?’

‘No, I—’ She broke off her vehement denial as James gave her a look of teasing reproval. ‘Maybe,’ she conceded tautly.

James grinned at her now, obviously elated at having his marriage back again, his avowals of love for Silke only a week ago completely forgotten, and his anger at her rejection too. ‘Not maybe, Silke, definitely!’ he teased. ‘And he obviously feels the same way—’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ she cut in determinedly.

‘No?’ James questioned derisively. ‘Then why does he act like a jealous lover every time he sees me?’

Colour warmed her cheeks at having Lyon described as her lover. Because that was what he had been. Her only lover.

‘Ah,’ James said knowledgeably.

Silke looked at him frowningly. ‘What do you mean, “ah”?’

He shook his head. ‘I really am sorry for behaving like an idiot last week, Silke.’ He walked to the door. ‘Send me an invitation to the wedding, won’t you?’ he added teasingly as he prepared to leave. ‘It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for me to come, but at least the invitation will tell me the two of you have sorted things out. And I would like to think of you being happy, Silke,’ he added huskily.

‘Not with Lyon,’ she told him firmly, shaking her head.

‘We’ll see,’ he returned enigmatically. ‘And the first thing you ought to do is let him know that you aren’t going away with me!’

She had no intention of telling Lyon any such thing. He would learn the truth soon enough, no doubt, but for the moment she needed a little breathing space. Time to get away. Time to get over loving Lyon...

* * *

‘What are you doing, darling?’ Her mother looked at her concernedly as they sat across from each other in the spacious sitting-room of her new home.

Silke had called in briefly to talk to her mother before going away; she didn’t want to cause her mother any more distress than she had had in recent weeks, by simply disappearing. Obviously Lyon had seen her mother first!

‘Not what Lyon thinks I am,’ she answered drily.

‘You and Lyon...’ her mother began slowly, a slightly puzzled frown on her face.

Silke stiffened. ‘There isn’t a “Lyon and me”,’ she denied determinedly.

Her mother looked at her closely. ‘Oh, I think there is,’ she said knowingly.

She shook her head. ‘No, I—’

‘Silke, I’ve talked to Lyon,’ her mother put in quietly.

Silke gave her a sharp look. What did she mean, she had talked to Lyon? What about? Surely he wouldn’t have— No, she didn’t believe for one moment Lyon would have told her mother what had happened between them.

‘We’ve both talked,’ her mother corrected herself. ‘About the past, about my meeting Henry again after all these years. I think—no, I’m sure Lyon understands what happened now.’

Silke watched her closely. ‘And?’

‘And we understand each other better now,’ her mother smiled. ‘It’s because of that understanding—’ she sobered ‘—that I don’t think history should repeat itself.’ She gave Silke a pointed look.

She stiffened, at once on the defensive. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she avoided. There was no chance of history repeating itself; she might love Lyon, but he certainly didn’t love her.

‘You’re running, Silke,’ her mother chided. ‘Just as I did. Don’t you think you should give Lyon a chance?’

‘To do what?’ she frowned.

‘Silke, I don’t know what this business with James is all about, but I do know you aren’t going away with him, as Lyon thinks you are.’ She shook her head.

Silke frowned. ‘Lyon told you about that?’

‘I told you.’ Her mother nodded. ‘We talked. About all sorts of things.’

‘Such as?’ Silke was defensive again now; what if Lyon had told her mother about their intimacy?

‘Silke, why did you let him go on believing you’re going away with James?’ her mother persisted, not answering her question.

‘Because—’ To her chagrin her voice broke. ‘Because at the time I just wanted him to leave,’ she finished more firmly.

‘Why?’

‘Mummy—’

‘This is important, Silke,’ her mother cut in determinedly. ‘I wasted thirty-five years; I have no intention of seeing you make the same mistake.’

Silke blinked back the tears, her control going now, her hands twisted tightly together in her lap. ‘Because if he hadn’t left when he did I would have broken down,’ she admitted shakily. ‘Because I love him,’ she said more forcefully, shaken at putting her feelings into words for the first time. ‘Because he doesn’t love me!’ she choked, the tears starting to fall now, blinding her as she buried her face in her hands.

‘He loves you, Silke,’ an all too familiar voice told her huskily. ‘He just isn’t very good at admitting he loves anyone. Basically because I didn’t want to love anyone,’ Lyon admitted gruffly.

Silke had turned, stricken, at the first sound of his voice, staring at him dazedly as he stood in the open doorway. How long had he been standing there? She hadn’t even realised he was here; his car hadn’t been outside in the driveway when she arrived, and—

Had he just said that he loved her?

‘I think I’ll leave the two of you alone together,’ her mother stood up. ‘Thirty-five years is a long time, Silke,’ her mother reminded her softly, squeezing her arm as she walked past her to leave the room.

Lyon watched Silke from across the room, dark and attractive in a navy silk shirt and navy fitted trousers, his expression wary now, a little uncertain. It wasn’t an emotion Silke would ever have associated with him!

She stood up slowly, smoothing her hands down her denim-clad thighs. ‘I had no idea you were here,’ she said nervously, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

‘I came down with your mother earlier,’ he shrugged. ‘As she said, I wanted to talk to her.’

Silke nodded. ‘I’m glad the two of you have sorted out your differences, that you’ve decided to accept my mother in your uncle’s life.’

The two of them were talking to each other like strangers; maybe she had imagined that he had said he loved her?

‘I think it may be a question of the other way around,’ Lyon gave a self-derisive grimace. ‘I realise now what your mother must have gone through all those years ago,’ he explained at her questioning look. ‘She had more reason to resent me rather than the other way round. If Henry hadn’t been made my guardian the two of them would have been married years ago!’

Her mother and Lyon had done some talking, hadn’t they? ‘Possibly,’ Silke acknowledged. ‘But they both put that in the past, and so I think you should too.’

He nodded. ‘That’s what your mother said,’ he told her ruefully.

The two of them continued to look at each other, neither of them speaking, neither of them moving, just looking at each other. And it was killing Silke. Had he said he loved her?

‘Of course I love you,’ he spoke huskily—and Silke realised she had said the words out loud!

Her cheeks felt hot as she stared at him. ‘I love you too,’ she finally said softly.

‘So what are we going to do about it?’ he prompted abruptly.

Silke gave a shaky laugh, hardly able to believe this conversation was taking place. ‘Whatever we want to do, I suppose,’ she spoke huskily.

‘I want to marry you,’ Lyon told her evenly.

This was ridiculous! They had just said that they loved each other, Lyon had told her he wanted to marry her—and yet they still faced each other across the width of the room as if they were adversaries!

‘Marriage is a trap,’ she said, reminding him that he had once told her it was a trap he had no intention of getting into.

He shook his head. ‘Not when you love the person you marry,’ he said firmly.

‘I now know for certain I’m not pregnant, Lyon,’ she told him almost regretfully; when she had thought she would be going out of his life for good it had been some comfort to think she might, just might, be expecting his child. Now she knew that was no longer a possibility.

‘Not yet, perhaps,’ he accepted gently. ‘But we have plenty of time to have children. If you’ll marry me?’

He looked uncertain again—and it was an emotion Silke didn’t like to see in him. His arrogance might have angered her in the past, but it was Lyon, and to see him like this was almost too difficult to bear.

‘I might—if you’ll come over here and kiss me!’ She looked at him teasingly beneath lowered lashes.

He gave a throaty chuckle, walking towards her. ‘I thought you’d never ask!’ he groaned as he took her in his arms, crushing her against the lean length of him, burying his face in her silky hair.

Her arms were about his neck, her body moulded to his. ‘You don’t usually wait to be asked,’ she teased huskily.

‘The new me,’ he said with self-mockery as he raised his head to look down at her. ‘Will you marry me, Silke?’

Her face was raised to his, her face glowing; it was going to be all right. It really was! ‘You haven’t kissed me yet,’ she reminded lightly.

‘Once I start I might not stop,’ he admitted self-derisively. ‘So maybe you had better give me your answer first!’

‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

He gave a triumphant laugh before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the sofa—where he proceeded to kiss her until they were both breathless!

‘I fell in love with you the moment you removed that ridiculous bunny head,’ he told her some time later, Silke nestled in his arms as she sat next to him on the sofa.

‘You didn’t,’ she protested, looking up at him. ‘You were absolutely horrible to me that day.’

‘I didn’t want to love you,’ he reminded huskily. ‘But Henry has told me that he fell in love with your mother on sight all those years ago, and I’m afraid I did the same thing with you.’

‘”Afraid”?’ she teased, touching the hardness of his cheek with caressing fingers.

‘Hmm.’ He gave a self-derisive grimace. ‘And if Henry hadn’t collapsed in the way that he did, and diverted attention away from the situation I suddenly found myself in, I might have made a complete idiot of myself.’

‘Not you, Lyon,’ Silke lightly mocked. ‘You’re far too controlled.’

‘My control went out of the window that day, too!’ he admitted ruefully. ‘The Jordan women are pretty powerful stuff!’

‘The Winter-Buchanan men too,’ she smiled up at him lovingly.

Lyon returned the warmth of her smile, smoothing the silky hair at her brow. ‘A mutual admiration society, hmm?’

‘Not to start with,’ she reminded him reprovingly. ‘You really were awful to Mummy and me.’

‘I didn’t want you in my life.’ He grimaced. ‘I had lived without love in my life for so long, and I didn’t want it there then either.’

‘And now?’ Silke kissed the length of his jaw.

‘Now I wish we were already married and I could take you away somewhere and make love to you without interruption,’ he admitted huskily. ‘But I doubt either Henry or your mother would let us get away with that; it will have to be the whole “white wedding” bit!’

She looked up at him searchingly. ‘Not if that isn’t what you want.’ She shook her head. ‘I was going to have that once before, and it isn’t important—’

‘Silke.’ He looked down at her intently now. ‘I want to see you walking down the aisle to me in a silky white gown, want to watch with pride as you become my wife. Cameron was an idiot,’ he grimly repeated the accusation he had made once before concerning James.

‘I was never going away with him, Lyon,’ Silke assured him. ‘I only let you go on believing that so that you would leave.’

He nodded. ‘I realise that now.’

‘James’s marriage had been going through a rough patch, and he—well, he thought—’

‘I don’t give a damn what he thought.’ Lyon’s arms tightened about her possessively. ‘Now that I know you love me, he isn’t coming anywhere near you ever again!’

But she would send James his wedding invitation, just so that he would know she and Lyon had ‘sorted things out’, and that she was going to be happy; she knew James would have enough sense not actually to attend the wedding!

‘I don’t want him anywhere near me again,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘I didn’t want him near me on the two occasions you did see him.’

‘Good,’ Lyon said with satisfaction. ‘It totally threw me when I realised he was back in your life,’ he acknowledged ruefully. ‘But it certainly took my mind off Henry and your mother.’ He grimaced. ‘Their relationship suddenly took second place in my priorities!’

‘It didn’t seem that way,’ Silke frowned. Although, thinking about it, perhaps Lyon had become less intense about Henry and her mother after seeing James at her flat that evening...

‘Quite honestly—’ Lyon gave a rueful smile ‘—Henry could have married a twenty-five-year-old bunny girl after that and I wouldn’t have objected!’ He looked down at her teasingly.

Silke gave a soft laugh. ‘You’re not going to let me forget that incident in a hurry, are you?’ She hugged him for the sheer pleasure of being able to do so; she loved this man with every part of her. And the miracle was, he loved her in return.

‘When I’m Henry’s age I’ll be telling our grandchildren about the way we first met!’ he warned her affectionately.

She didn’t doubt he would too. And just the thought of those children and grandchildren was enough to fill her with a warm glow for their future together.

‘Our children will grow up in a loving family, Silke,’ he assured her huskily, looking deeply into her eyes. ‘There will be none of the loneliness for them that we both knew in our own childhoods. They will have two parents who love them. And, more importantly, who love each other,’ he added with satisfaction.

And they did love each other. Very much. And they would continue to do so. Silke didn’t doubt it for a moment, knew that neither of them had fallen in love lightly. And it was a love that would last a lifetime.

The war was over at last. And both of them had won...