Читать книгу Passionate Retribution - Ким Лоренс, KIM LAWRENCE - Страница 7

THEY entered by a side-door. Emily felt physically sick now that the confrontation she could so well imagine was imminent.

Gavin, why did you do it? The question kept going around in her head. He had seemed genuinely fond of her—in fact, his devotion had been vaguely embarrassing at times. He was everything she could have wanted in a husband: he was considerate, kind, bright and, compared to the men in her own family, incredibly sensitive to her feelings. The novelty of having her wishes considered paramount had been original, a heady feeling of being cherished and one she felt sure she could tolerate on a permanent basis.

As for Charlotte, the thought of her sister made her feel wretched, trust betrayed…She didn’t know when, if ever, she would be able to trust herself actually to confront her and remain even moderately civilised.

‘I wish you’d go away.’ She looked in Luke’s direction, transposing some of her anger on to his able shoulders. The barely restrained vitality he was fairly oozing was an added insult. It was reflected in the way he moved, the air of expectation…He was enjoying it, she realised with fury. Contemplating her distress seemed to act on him in a stimulating way, so stimulating that she felt a fresh spasm of unease. At least, she reassured herself, she could be sure of one thing: not even Luke could make things worse at the moment.

‘I’m here to lend you my support.’

‘Why doesn’t that make me feel better——?’ she wondered out loud. She broke off as they both heard the sound of voices at the selfsame instant. A door opened and the throb of music filtered into the small hallway. ‘I can’t…I don’t think I can cope with this.’ Blind panic that had made her freeze for an instant suddenly sent urgent life into her limbs. ‘I’ve got to…’ She had to run, get away. Eyes wild with the urgent drive to escape, she searched the room for an avenue of escape.

Fresh shock swept through her veins, interwoven with a snowballing sense of panic, when without warning Luke turned towards her, trapping her between the wall and his body. Impressions were bombarding her brain as she tried to think beyond the immediate impact which made her laboriously gasp for air, her head growing immediately light.

He was a large man, not heavily built but muscular and hard. She hadn’t actually appreciated the physical proportions of his tall, rangy frame previously. He was close enough without being in actual physical contact for her to be aware of the heat of his body and the male odour which emanated from him, a clean smell, not tainted by the over-use of scents and potions. Unconsciously her hands went out, palms outwards to preserve her own space.

‘You’re hyperventilating,’ he observed impatiently, looking down into her alarm-filled face.

‘What are you…?’

‘Inspiration, remember? That’s what I’m here to provide. And if you want to get out of this mess with some of your precious pride intact, just follow my lead,’ he told her harshly. He bent his dark head and she closed her eyes with a sense of impending doom.

Inspiration obviously allowed for no preliminaries, because she found her hands flattened against the hard plane of his belly as he pressed forward, pinning her to the wall with his weight. She wasn’t aware of one hand sliding beneath her hair to cup her skull, but she found her movements being controlled by the touch of his fingers. She breathed his name, filled with an intense desire to escape; but the sound of her voice was lost against the movement of his mouth.

Luke was kissing her. The concept was too strange to grasp completely. She stood stock-still, counting the sound of her own laboured inhalations. The awareness of his heavy thighs pressing against her traumatised her already impaired nervous system.

‘Open your mouth, infant.’ His voice was tinged with heavy exasperation.

What the hell did he think he was doing, hauling her about like a doll and handing out ridiculous instructions as though she were some sort of puppet? She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do, but he seemed to take this as compliance. The abrupt intimacy of his tongue colliding with her teeth, touching the moistness of her inner lip, was like a bolt of pure, intense excitement. It destroyed all coherent thought processes—and most physical responses too. The weakness was totally debilitating, and if his hands hadn’t slid across her back she would have slid to the floor at that moment.

Nothing in her life had prepared her for the black hole of pure sensation she found herself sinking into. Countering the sensation never entered her head; the intensity required total co-operation. She let the flow carry her along. She was absorbed in the texture of his lips against her tender mouth in a way that was totally alien. A kiss was something pleasant, if you were lucky in your partner, but something she had been able to stop without the wrenching feeling of loss she experienced when Luke raised his head.

She stared at him in a half-horrified, half-fascinated way before she registered the sound of her own father’s voice. The blue eyes held an ambiguous mingling of mockery and anger. Why should Luke be angry? she wondered. I should be angry…I am angry.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Luke moved to one side after winking at her, his expression contemplative but palpably unmoved by the ardent embrace. The realisation was painfully humiliating. ‘Charlie, I would have thought that was rather obvious,’ he said, smiling with silky provocation. His fingers strayed seemingly automatically to Emily’s bare shoulder, his fingers stroking her hot skin.

At any other time her father’s thunderstruck expression of total incredulity would have made her laugh. She felt just as stunned herself; her bemused brain was only just beginning to function. Her father’s mouth was open, his face suffused with a purplish glow that stood out in violent contrast to the leonine mane of silver hair he was so proud of. He wasn’t supposed to get over-excited, some sane portion of her brain recalled fuzzily.

‘Hello, Father,’ she said stupidly. The tableau had to be broken at some point and Luke appeared to be savouring each moment too much to be of any assistance. She couldn’t look at Luke—what little dignity she had left he’d managed to rip into shreds. She would murder him, slowly, painfully and with relish! she decided.

‘What are you doing with him…?’ His eyes touched Luke with an expression of loathing. He seemed to be noticing details that he hadn’t done previously: the torn, mud-stained dress, her tangled hair. Details that Emily had not until that moment been conscious of herself. The picture must be pretty damning.

She lifted a trembling hand to her lips, which felt bruised and tender—no doubt as Luke had intended. She felt a small bud of anger blossom dramatically as her breast swelled with a sense of victimisation. Did he imagine for one moment that she’d agree to such a transparently ludicrous ploy to extract her from her engagement and save face? As for his mauling her about in quite such a realistic fashion, she’d never forgive him, ever, even if it was for her father’s benefit.

Not that she was about to lose any sleep over a kiss, she told herself stubbornly. Lurking in her mind was a growing sense of unease at the devastating response of her normally co-operative senses. With forewarning, she told herself, throwing Luke a fulminating glance, I could have taken the thing in my stride. Luke smiled back at her, allowing the hard lines of his face to dissolve into something more warm, more intimate.

‘Emily was putting me out of my misery, Charlie,’ Luke said, a throb of emotion in his voice. Staring into the very blue eyes, Emily felt a twinge of pity for any female he turned the charm on, for it would be awfully difficult not to believe the apparent sincerity he could infuse into his expression.

‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ Charles Stapely snarled, his expression growing even uglier as Luke brushed the stray strands of hair from her brow tenderly.

Emily forced herself to accept his ministrations passively, but she longed to push his fingers away. The sensation was disagreeable; it made the muscles low in her belly clench in objection and she was filled with a restless sense of unease that she was sure was associated with the contact. She was going to stop this farce now—anything was preferable, she thought, shuddering.

His lips brushed her ear. ‘What do you prefer, infant victim?’ he murmured, his voice low but perfectly distinct. Their eyes met. ‘Or fallen woman,’ he mouthed silently but distinctly.

The internal battle was violent but brief. Luke had forced her into this absurd charade from the worst of motives, she had no doubt; but he had given her this choice. The sympathy, the knowing glances…

‘I realise this must be a shock, Father,’ she said. Luke smiled, complacent and unsurprised. He had known her weakness all along, the pity she couldn’t stomach. He foiled her attempt to move away by encircling her waist with his arm. His hand moved restlessly over her silk-clad midriff and she felt her thoughts telescope together, and her next comment slipped out of reach. It was at the same time a jarring but soothing sensation, Luke’s fingers over the soft fabric. Soothing…I must be mad, she decided as the thought surfaced.

‘The fact is, Charles, Emily knew how you would react to—’ his eyes sought hers for a brief moment as if they were exchanging some profound secret. ‘—us,’ he said, his expression sincere as he looked at the older man. Emily silently wondered at the proficient way he lied; the more outrageous the claim, the more convincing he appeared. If she hadn’t been busy loathing him she might almost have admired the talent. ’she got involved with Gavin to forget me, but some things…’

Emily gasped. That was going just a bit far even for her father to swallow. But, looking at Luke’s profile, she thought perhaps he didn’t want her father to be convinced; he was laying things on with a trowel, deliberately letting the older man know that he had in some way engineered this event—which, of course, he had. Things were slipping from her control like sand through her fingers. Luke was putting an alarming amount of effort into his part, and the malice he was directing at her father was painfully obvious.

While she wasn’t close to either of her parents, she felt uncomfortable at colluding with Luke to further his campaign.

‘In the circumstances, I can’t really continue with my engagement,’ she said softly. The way both men looked at her made her realise they had both forgotten her existence for a split-second. ’so glad to see I have your attention,’ she said sweetly, filled with a revitalising wrath. ’there was nothing intentional in this, Father, and with all due respect I feel I should discuss this with my…with Gavin first. I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble and expense,’ she added drily, even if she had begged for a simple affair to announce her engagement. The lavish occasion had not been of her seeking. ‘It’s better to discover these things now,’ she said, wincing at the triteness of the phrase that rolled off her lips.

‘How true,’ Luke breathed blandly in her ear. ‘You are so deep, infant.’

Emily matched her expression to his, her features arranged in slavish adoration, a besotted smile on her lips. ’move it or lose it,’ she said, referring to his hand which had strayed to her behind.

Luke gave a deep growl of laughter and didn’t comply with her hissed command.

Her father hadn’t had the benefit of hearing the content of this brief interchange, but he had endured the apparent intimacy of the low-voiced murmers. He gave a bitter laugh, his expression a mixture of spite and scorn as he looked at his daughter.

‘Unintentional?’ he yelled scornfully. ‘If you believe that you’re even more stupid than I thought. You don’t suppose he—’he flicked Luke a look of abhorrence, ‘—would have wasted his time on you if you weren’t my daughter? A man like Gavin is worth a hundred of him. You’ll live to regret this, Emily, and in the not too distant future,’ he warned. ‘You won’t let the past die, will you?’ he said, his attention once more on the other man.

‘I always keep my promises, Charlie,’ Luke said softly. ‘Opportunities arise, and wasn’t it you who always advocated grabbing them with both hands?’

‘You admit it, then?’ Charles asked hoarsely.

‘Father, calm down, please,’ Emily said urgently. The distended vein that throbbed in his temple made her stomach tighten in alarm. She’d known even without Luke’s contribution just how angry her father was going to be; this had always been a damage-limitation exercise, but it was getting out of hand.

‘Shut up!’ He rounded on her. ‘I’ll deal with you, later.’

‘Your heart…’ she began anxiously. She had to tell him the truth. Perhaps that wouldn’t seem so bad after this charade. It was selfish of her to save her own pride at the risk of her father’s health, she decided, contemptuous of her own weakness in accepting Luke’s get-out clause.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my heart, you idiot,’ he spat back contemptuously.

Emily was immobilised by a thrust of confused pain. ‘But…’

‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d care if I dropped dead at your feet.’

Emily had seen the swift dart of panic in her father’s eyes, and the truculent observation did nothing to diminish an awful feeling that was solidifying in her head. ‘You just said there was nothing wrong with your heart.’

‘Why would you think there was, infant?’ Luke had been watching this interchange with sharp interest.

‘He has a heart condition.’

‘Don’t you dare discuss family matters with him!’ Was there a hint of desperation in the blustery tone?

I heard the doctor tell him. It was an accident; I wasn’t meant to. She spoke inaudibly, her lips moving silently. As she tried to unravel the impossibility of her awful suspicion, Emily had the feeling that her mental processes were not as acute as they might have been. ‘I wasn’t supposed to hear.’ She spoke out loud. Horror entered the eyes she fixed unwaveringly on her father’s face. ‘Was I?’ The timing had been so perfect, so convenient.

Belligerence entered Charles Stapely’s face. ‘You’ve been contaminated by that swine already…my own daughter.’

She’d been about to leave home, set up her own flat. The initial opposition had been fierce; her father had Victorian ideas about a female’s place and role in society. He wanted her where he could keep his eye on her, control her. Persuading him had been a futile task but short of incarceration he couldn’t prevent her; and, much to her surprise, he had suddenly capitulated, given her his blessing. She’d been on cloud nine—her first job as a probationary primary-school teacher and a small flat of her own.

Even after she’d overheard his conversation with the doctor he’d insisted with untypical generosity that she mustn’t let the frailty of his condition stop her living her life.

She’d had a few moments alone with the apparently eminent heart specialist. No, the only treatment possible was conservative, he’d told her, no surgery. Stress could contribute and hasten the inevitable, he’d agreed when she’d tentatively enquired. The words had shocked her, made her realise the gravity of her father’s condition.

He’d been grateful that she decided to stay, almost tearful; it was one less thing for him to worry about, he’d told her. At that time he’d sworn her to secrecy; one word of his condition and the bank could be compromised. He’d promised to take life easier, but she could understand and even admire his determination not to be an invalid.

‘You lied to me,’ she said slowly, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. ‘It was all a fraud.’

‘It was for your own good. It wasn’t a lie,’ he protested, ‘just an exaggeration. You and Gavin were meant for one another. You had no need to waste your energies on some poky little flat and a job you didn’t need.’

Emily let out a shuddering breath; she’d wanted to be wrong. ‘Your good, you mean. I’ve heard this rumour that not all families are motivated by selfinterest—just now I find the notion hard to believe.’ Her expression hardened. She turned to Luke, who was watching the proceedings with undisguised interest. ‘Get me out of here,’ she commanded flatly. She had no intention of explaining the significance of the interchange. In one evening she had learnt that three of the people she had thought she knew best had all been deceiving her. Do I wear a label saying ‘gullible idiot’? she wondered resentfully.

‘I never thought you were a fool, until today.’ Charles Stapely’s expression was tight with contempt as he watched her lean into Luke’s body as if the strength of his tall frame was all that prevented her from sliding to the ground. ‘If you’re that stupid, he’s welcome to you. But if you suppose he’s going to marry you, think again—’

‘Actually, Father,’ she interrupted, flushing slightly, ‘we really haven’t thought things out that far.’ She acknowledged the troubled doubts that were stirring just on the edges of her consciousness, forced to wonder at the way she’d accepted Luke’s ridiculous fait accompli with scant thought to the consequences of her actions.

‘Thought!’ Charles Stapely’s fists bunched as he looked at Luke, who was eyeing the interchange from beneath half closed eyelids, very much at ease and not hiding his amusement at the proceedings. ‘I doubt if you’ve thought at all; and just because you’re in his bed, don’t imagine you’ve got exclusive rights. He’s just like his mother—not very discriminating…If it’s breathing, bed it!’

Emily would have retreated if she could from the congealed loathing in her parent’s voice. She was aware of the sudden tension in Luke’s body. He was still standing directly behind her, an immovable barrier to her retreat.

‘You’re a pretentious, pompous fool,’ Luke said almost casually. Emily, looking at his profile, could see a nerve throbbing erratically in his cheek. ‘And if you ever so much as mention my mother again…’ The threat was uttered in a pleasant voice that made it all the more sinister somehow. She saw her father recoil and fight to stand his ground when he looked into Luke’s eyes.

‘I’ve lived to regret ever taking you under my roof, you ingrate. And if you—’ he pointed an accusing finger at Emily ‘—if you go with him, you’re no daughter of mine,’ he told her in a voice shaking with rage. His parting, ‘Wait till your mother hears about this,’ was so petty after the grand gesture of disowning her that Emily found a gurgle of laughter escaping her throat.

She wiped her eyes, wondering whether her mascara was smeared across her face like warpaint. Looking at Luke, she was aware that for once she had surprised him.

‘You don’t sound too disturbed at being cast off,’ he said, handing her a clean handkerchief.

‘Just a touch of hysteria, that’s all; besides, are my feelings actually of any interest to you? You or my father?’ she asked, handing him back his handkerchief and giving him a straight look, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. They were both the same, she decided, each happy to use her to score points off the other. Manipulate whoever happened to be at hand.

‘Keep it,’ Luke advised. ‘You might need it again before the night’s over. Are you going to tell me precisely what that little scene was all about?’

‘No.’ She wasn’t about to display her naive credulity for his contempt. Besides, knowing Luke, he’d probably managed to get more than the bare bones of the incident. She waved away the handkerchief. ‘Nowhere to put it,’ she responded prosaically, then wished she hadn’t because it drew Luke’s glittering regard to her outfit. His eyes made her feel claustrophobic as they travelled at a leisurely pace over her slender but femininely curved—too curved for her own taste— body in the dress which covered too little of some of those curves.

‘Quite true,’ he agreed. His glance, returning to her face, held curiosity and something else she didn’t care to analyse, although it made the pit of her stomach dissolve. ‘I’ll keep it for you.’

‘I don’t need anything of yours, and that goes for any smart moves like the one you pulled in there,’ she ground out from between clenched teeth. If he thought he could divert her by doling out a dose of his particular brand of mesmeric sex appeal, he could think again. ‘I can’t believe you did it.’ She shook her head. ‘You just can’t resist stirring, can you?’ she accused hoarsely. The unmitigated nerve of the man, the undiluted arrogance, astonished her.

‘I simply provided your inspiration. You were going to run away.’

‘Sneer if you like, but running away is less painful at times. Besides, head-on collision doesn’t always solve the problem.’

‘Neither does running away; it just postpones the inevitable.’

‘Thank you for that little gem,’ she snapped. The accusation in his tone made her want to launch a frontal attack. ‘At least my father was bright enough to disguise the fact that he was manipulating me. The only difference with you is I know it. Still, it’s over with now.’ She could retreat and let the wounds heal, sort out what she wanted from life.

‘Oh, there are a lot more possibilities in this situation yet.’

Emily threw back her head, shaking her hair from around her shoulders. ‘Forget it, Luke, I’m sick of the lot of you. I’m going to spend some time alone,’ she told him, a flare of anger igniting dancing golden lights in her eyes. ‘And I’m not available for any more theatricals, even if my stomach could stand up to being mauled about by you.’

‘I don’t think you’ve thought this out too clearly,’ he said icily. He fixed his broad shoulders as if to ease some tension between his shoulder-blades.

‘Of course I’ve not thought it out, you idiot,’ she told him furiously. ’this is an emotional crisis, I’m devastated, hurt, my life is in ruins. Thinking,’ she snarled, ‘is not exactly easy at the moment. If it had been, I’d never have let you set up that little scene for your own sadistic purposes.’

‘I expect you’re not pleased at having all your plans upset. I mean, I’m sure this was one marriage where surprise was not on the menu,’ he said with a faint sneer. ‘You always did like your plans; I expect you’d timetabled the next twenty years. Your mistake was obviously telling pretty boy what he’d be doing with his life; he probably ran to your saintly sister in sheer panic.’

‘You know nothing about it,’ she snapped, her colour heightened. ’there’s nothing wrong with organising— we don’t all drift through life like some gypsy!’

He gave a deep laugh which she considered wildly inappropriate, and it only provided more proof of his total heartlessness, had such proof been necessary. ‘Plans are made to have spanners aimed at them, infant, haven’t you learnt that yet? Even if a man has slotted himself into a position which makes the rest of his life boringly inevitable, he doesn’t need it spelt out for him. You probably had the progeny production timed with mathematical precision.’

‘There’s nothing indecent in a commitment,’ she responded, stung by this unexpected assault. He made her sound as passionless as a computer! Gavin had never complained as she’d happily been involved in planning their future; she had been sure he’d wanted all the things she did. She gave a small sound of pain and bit her lip. Only he hadn’t; that much was now painfully obvious.

‘Why don’t you admit it, Emmy? Your Gavin was just a convenient body who happened to meet your criteria at a time in your life you’d decided you should get married.’

The accusation took her breath away. ‘I love Gavin,’ she declared fiercely.

Luke looked unimpressed by her passionate declaration. ’then perhaps you should have spent more time telling him so between the sheets and less organising him. Your only misjudgement was that the guy’s got slightly more guts than you’d anticipated. You began moulding him a bit too early, sweetheart, you should have waited until after the wedding.’

She felt tears of fury sting her eyelids and she blinked furiously; she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. ‘I hate you,’ she said, not finding inspiration for a more original retort. But the worst part of it was that there was a grain of truth in what he said, and she wasn’t blind enough to her own faults not to see it.

She liked and respected Gavin——at least she had; he was the only man she’d ever met whom she had considered spending her life with. She had been sure he would never bully her as her father did those around him. She had wondered whether the fact that her father was chairman of the bank and she his daughter had had anything to do with his assiduous courting.

‘You can hardly go around saying that, infant, considering we are an…item,’ Luke told her. His eyes watched the ripple of emotions running across her face, a sneer tugging at one corner of his mouth.

She made a sound of disgust in her throat. ‘Don’t get carried away with your fiction; that’s over as of now. There was never any need to go as far as to molest me publicly,’ she told him with a look of distaste. ‘If you had bothered to consult me I could have told you so.’

‘You prefer to be molested privately?’ he said with polite interest. ‘I could——’

‘Keep your hands to yourself, Luke,’ she cut in coldly. ‘I don’t find it amusing. I realise this is just a game to you, but it happens to be my life.’ And a mess it was too.

‘I take games very seriously,’ he told her. ‘For a planner you haven’t looked beyond the next hour, have you?’ he said, changing tack with bewildering abruptness.

Emily looked at him suspiciously. ’should I?’

‘Over and above the fact that your father has disowned you, you seem to be overlooking our deep and abiding passion.’

He was laughing at her, she realised; if her mind hadn’t been so confused, so cluttered with emotions, she would, she was sure, have understood what he was insinuating. ‘Enlighten me,’ she suggested testily.

‘Our relationship can’t fizzle out overnight.’

‘Relationship? We haven’t got a relationship,’ she asserted, panic in her voice.

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Or your stoical endurance of my passionate advances will have been in vain. Even stupid Charlotte will be able to see through the charade. It will be, Poor little Emily couldn’t even hold her man. He preferred the sister, you know.’

‘I’m not such a good liar as you so I’m afraid we might as well drop it,’ she said, half relieved that the idea was folding almost before it had begun. One good thing had emerged: she was free from the guilt-induced bond that had held her a self-imposed prisoner at Charlcot.

‘You underestimate my brilliance, infant.’

She closed her eyes and fantasised about wiping that irritatingly smug smile off his face. ‘Don’t call me that!’

‘What, a term of endearment? And to think I thought you liked it.’

‘You know I loathe it,’ she contradicted him. ’that’s why you do it.’

He gave her a sardonic look, his startling eyes as blue as a beneficent summer day and as sharp as jagged ice. ‘Going back to my brilliance,’ he said smoothly, and she wished fervently that she could penetrate that hateful composure.

Almost in flashback, a picture of him crouched with yells and smoke all around him, bullets singing through the air, recording the events going on around him economically but lucidly as if he weren’t in danger of joining the reporter whose blood he was calmly staunching as he spoke, came into her mind. That had been Luke’s first time in front of the camera rather than behind it, but not his last: the powers that be hadn’t needed the public response to the incident to know a good thing when they saw it. After that Luke had been seen reporting from various trouble-spots scattered across the globe, but his first love had always been photography and he had never abandoned it.

It had been a job as a photographer on a daily newspaper that Luke had taken in preference to the job her father had offered him after university. When the opportunity had arisen, he had accepted the challenge of moving to the live medium, working for an independent new station. Her father, who had hated Luke’s effortless progression, had found his anonymity behind the lens easier to bear than the public recognition that had come when he’d stepped to the other side of the camera. She had seen him accept congratulations of his famous relative with gritted teeth, knowing nothing would have pleased him more than if Luke had failed miserably in every venture he began. He had hardly been able to contain his fury when Luke had had a book of his stills published; not content to concentrate on one thing, he seemed to be able to shine in several skies at the same time. The political thrillers which followed had brought acclaim and monetary rewards as they’d lingered indecently long in the bestseller lists. Her father had simmered, and Emily had thought he had grown almost inured to Luke’s ability to juggle several careers and give the impression that he was only using a small portion of his talent. She felt a mixture of envy and admiration, but at that moment she shared a portion of her parent’s frustration. He was so impervious, it made her want to stamp her feet!

‘I think you’re inhuman,’ she announced.

‘It’s rather perverse of you to attack me…your saviour.’ He raised one eyebrow as she choked. ‘And hardly a word about pretty boy’s infamy,’ he remarked thoughtfully. ‘As I’ve been trying to tell you, I am going up to my cottage in Scotland to do some work on my book.’

‘I didn’t know you had a cottage in Scotland,’ she said, surprised.

‘Why should you?’ he said in a tone that made her flush. ‘You can come with me.’

‘Thanks but no, thanks,’ she retorted without thought.

‘I can see the brain is overloaded again,’ he said sympathetically. ‘You can disappear with me for a decent interval and then reappear having seen me for what I am, or whatever story you care to invent. I favour the wild passion which burnt fiercely but briefly, but I leave the details to you.’

‘You do surprise me,’ she said, bristling. ‘Do I actually have any say in the matter? I don’t like being organised, in fact I hate it,’ she hissed from between clenched teeth. She had absolutely no intention of going further than the end of the drive in Luke’s company. He had extracted her from the immediate situation—she just needed time to think. One thing she didn’t need—in fact the very thought made her feel a surge of undiluted panic—was to spend any more time with Luke.

‘I know you prefer to do the organising, but look where that’s landed you. Bossy women are not universally admired.’

She drew herself up to her full height and eyed him balefully. ‘I’m so sorry I’m not a feminine, fluttery female,’ she intoned sarcastically. ‘You sexist pig! I take it it’s all right for you to order me around? I’m supposed to be meekly submissive.’

‘Meekly submissive is not the way I’d have described you, Emily,’ he said drily. ‘I was just trying to drop a hint or two. You’re not exactly subtle, are you? And as for my suggestion, it was just that. I don’t care whether you take me up on it,’ he announced negligently, as though he was beginning to be bored by the whole conversation. ‘It seemed the logical step to take, and if you can type or file you might even be useful,’ he added thoughtfully.

Not if I can help it, she thought bitterly. ‘You’ll be able to torment Father for a little longer—I expect that’s the main appeal.’

Luke gave a sudden grin, devilish lights reflected in his eyes. ‘I gather you have a few reasons to be less than happy with Daddy, Em. The thought had occurred to me that Charlie will be tormented by images of sordid goings-on in the heather.’

Emily felt the colour seep beneath her skin, his words had conjured up an image so shocking and unexpected. Luke was staring at her, his expression broodingly speculative. She registered the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the shadow of stubble that covered his cheeks and jaw. It gave him an air of attractive dissipation, although she knew it probably just indicated incipient exhaustion. Luke kept himself in superb condition; he couldn’t survive at the pace he set himself if he didn’t exhibit some self-control. She was thinking along the lines of exercise and diet… Women, that was another matter. Did her cousin usually take women up to his Scottish retreat? If he did, did he expect…? Her eyes opened wide in sudden sharp alarm.

‘Are you actually suggesting that we—?’ She broke off, searching for the correct terminology to cover this problem.

‘I’m anxious to inflict some mental anguish of a severe degree on your family, Emily, but I’m not willing to exert myself that much, infant.’

The swing of her arm was pure reflex. She registered the darkening mark along his cheek, wondering if he would retaliate. He appeared quite unmoved by her tears and she was furious with her uncontrollable response.

‘You always were a bully.’

‘And you were always a pampered brat,’ he replied dispassionately. She froze when he grasped her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. ‘You were always trying to get attention, I seem to recall.’

She tried to jerk away, a hot denial on her lips.

‘You have a very selective memory, infant. Oh, I quite forgot, you’re a mature woman these days,’ he drawled mockingly. ’strange, I doubt that—despite outer appearances.’ His unoccupied hand rose to trace carelessly the outline of her breast from the fabriccovered under-curve to the bare upper slope.

The casual intimacy induced an instantaneous physical response of her flesh, which she endured with confused misery. She swallowed a constnction in her dry throat, aware of the rasp of fabric against her sensitised flesh. The bodice of her dress seemed suddenly painfully tight.

‘The sort of attentions you gave me were delightful interludes. Like throwing me in the lake in November.’ She breathed deeply, regaining a little equilibrium now that his hand was no longer in contact with her flesh, even though his cool fingers seemed to have left an imprint like a brand on her skin. ‘Or pushing my face in the dirt,’ she added, warming to her theme. ‘And—’

‘All of which were preferable to indifference.’

He must have seen the dawning of awareness flicker in her eyes.

‘Y-you were incredibly awful to me,’ she faltered.

‘I believe the punishment usually fitted the crime.’

‘Children may have few rights to speak of,’ she replied, barely coping with an odd breathlessness that was afflicting her, ‘but I’m an independent agent now. And I have no intention of going anywhere with you except away from the immediate precincts of Charlcot.’

‘How long before you’re back?’ he sneered. ‘Living at home at twenty has to limit your emotional development to some extent, even when the said home has all the anonymity of a hotel.’ He gave her a look of mild contempt. ‘A five-star hotel, of course. No wonder you still act like a spoilt brat.’

‘The way I live my life has got nothing to do with you.’

‘Live?’ he drawled sarcastically.

‘I would have left home,’ she began, stung by the contempt. It was easy for him—nothing had ever been there to hold him back. She envied his freedom. I’m free now, she reminded herself: no fiancé, no terminally ill father to be mollified. Should I be celebrating? A bubble of hysteria rose in her throat.

Luke was watching her closely…was that concern? No, it couldn’t be, she decided. ‘Emily…’ He spoke her name angrily, with an urgency that made the wild laughter die abruptly.

‘So it’s true.’ Her mother’s strident voice broke the brief strained silence

Emily sighed, feeling suddenly weary. She hadn’t heard her father bring in reinforcements Here we go again! she thought. As if he’d picked up the energy draining from her, Luke interposed himself between her mother and herself. Not out of any wish to preserve her sanity, she thought, assailed by a strange nebulous hunger. More likely he didn’t want her to end the farce before he had extracted all the spiteful revenge he possibly could from the situation.

Her mother was as cold as her father had been hot; the gist of her words indicated that she wasn’t surprised at Emily’s behaviour. Emily listened to her whole life being described as a deliberate series of actions geared to give her parents the utmost degree of distress. She had the impression that her mother felt somehow vindicated by this final example of her ungrateful behaviour.

She stood frozenly dazed as her mother swept out of the room, dismissing her youngest child, her thoughts concentrated only on minimising the scandal attached to an engagement broken almost before it had been born.

‘Such warmth, such compassion,’ she heard Luke murmur. She looked at him, surprise widemng her blank eyes as he draped his jacket across her shoulders. It held the soothing heat of his body. She gave an involuntary shudder.