Читать книгу One Man's Mistress: One Night with His Virgin Mistress / Public Mistress, Private Affair / Mistress Against Her Will - Сара Крейвен, Sara Craven - Страница 12

TALLIE woke the next morning, uneasily aware that she was still unsure whether she’d made the right decision.

She sat up slowly, looking round her tranquil, sun-filled room, telling herself it was perfect—the ideal working environment. Reminding herself how much she’d written there over the past week in spite of everything.

Why, even last night, instead of going straight to bed, she’d sat down and finished the scene she’d been working on, although not in the way she’d originally intended, she admitted wryly.

Because after The Kiss which Hugo Cantrell had inflicted on the kicking and struggling Mariana, they’d been interrupted by the sound of feet thundering up the rickety stairs and furious voices baying for blood. And, instead of using her as his shield, Hugo had inexplicably picked Mariana up in his arms and strode with her to the window.

‘Here.’ He pushed a leather purse heavy with coins into her hand. ‘My winnings. Now, go while you can, because they won’t spare either of us.’

And, before she could scream in protest, he’d pushed her slender body through the narrow casement, dropping her into a hay-wagon passing below.

And as she lay, winded but otherwise undamaged, she heard from the inn the crashing of splintering wood and the chilling sound of a man shouting in pain.

That, at least, was what she’d originally planned.

Well, maybe even the nastiest pieces of work had their moments of weakness, Tallie conceded reluctantly. As Mark Benedict had surprisingly demonstrated last night.

But even if she’d let Hugo slip out of character for a few minutes, and she wasn’t sure why that had happened, he was still the villain of the piece and nothing was going to change that.

And Mariana was definitely not going to return at some point, to find him broken and bleeding, so that she could bandage up his injuries with her torn-up petticoat and nurse him back to health in some remote barn.

Because any spare petticoats she had would be devoted to William, wounded during his gallant actions at Salamanca, probably by a sabre cut during Le Marchant’s charge, she thought. Because he was the hero, and she must make sure the reader knew it.

But it was last night’s decision that was still at the forefront of her mind as she showered and dressed. The flat seemed deserted when she emerged from her room, and for a moment she thought Mark had already left to pursue whatever he’d got planned for the day, but then she detected the murmur of his voice from behind the closed door of his office.

She was in the kitchen, just finishing her tea and toast when he came striding in, dark brows drawn together in a frown and his mouth set grimly.

Not a good sign, thought Tallie with sudden apprehension. Maybe she wasn’t the only one having second thoughts about their new agreement. And it might be better to jump before she was pushed.

She said quietly, ‘If you’ve changed your mind about letting me stay, I quite understand.’

‘What?’ He seemed to become aware of her for the first time. ‘God, no. I’ve something else on my mind entirely.’ He refilled the mug he was carrying from the percolator and leaned back against the counter top. He was wearing beautifully cut jeans and a plain white shirt, open at the throat, its sleeves turned back over his tanned forearms.

He said abruptly, ‘I hadn’t intended to ask so soon, but I rather need that favour I mentioned last night. It seems my stepmother is paying me a visit.’

‘And you want me to cook lunch for her?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Just to be here. She claims she’s coming on a business matter and I need backup.’

She hesitated. ‘What do you mean exactly?’

‘I mean I’d prefer not to be alone here when she comes calling.’ His tone was blunt.

‘Oh,’ she said, as unwelcome light dawned, ‘so that’s what …’ And stopped, flushing guiltily.

‘That’s what Penny was undoubtedly about to tell you when I interrupted,’ he supplied, his face lightening into amused resignation. ‘Are there any details of my life my dear cousin has withheld? For instance, did you get a recital of my childhood ailments, including how she gave me chickenpox when I was thirteen?’

‘No—’ Tallie’s own mouth quivered into amusement ‘—but she might be saving that for another time.’ She put her used breakfast things carefully into the dishwasher. ‘So you want me to play gooseberry, is that it?’

‘Not exactly,’ he said carefully. ‘I want you to pretend that you’re my girlfriend, and that we’re sharing a damned sight more than just our living space.’

She bit her lip. ‘But surely you shouldn’t be asking me. It ought to be … Miss Randall, or someone …’

‘Actually, no.’ A sardonic note entered his voice. ‘I’ve no wish to send out misleading signals to Miss Randall—or anyone.’ He paused. ‘And as you and I have nothing going for us apart from an uneasy truce, that makes you the ideal choice.’

He looked at her. ‘So, will you do it?’

‘I … don’t know.’ She glanced down at the workaday jeans and top she was wearing. ‘I hardly look the part of anyone’s live-in lover, least of all yours.’

‘That can be fixed.’

‘And I’m not a very good actress.’

‘Pretend it’s a scene from this book of yours,’ he said casually, and Tallie bit her lip, wondering if that wasn’t a little too close for comfort.

‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best. What time is she getting here?’

‘Mid-morning, she tells me.’ His mouth twisted. ‘And, as she appears to want something, she may even be on time.’

‘Fine.’ She summoned a smile. ‘Then I can get some work done while I’m waiting.’

But an hour later she couldn’t pretend she was satisfied with what she’d produced. Even while hurling himself on the French lines, William still seemed oddly remote. Maybe he would become warmer, more human, when Mariana came back into his life, she thought, and the sooner the better.

But maybe she was just tired. She hadn’t slept very well the previous night, her mind invaded by disjointed words and images. ‘Mark, of course, is a total commitment-phobe’ … Mariana struggling in the arms of a man she hated, and, more than once, Mark’s voice asking, ‘Why don’t you … stay on here?’ And herself, fighting to find a reason and put it into words.

She was reluctantly saving what she’d written when there was a rap at her door.

‘Come in.’ She got to her feet, wondering apprehensively if she was being summoned because Veronica had arrived ahead of time.

But Mark walked in alone. ‘I’ve brought you something.’ He tossed a couple of carrier bags emblazoned with the name of a well-known department store on to her bed. ‘I hope it all fits. I’m not intimately acquainted with your measurements, so I had to guess.’

Tallie opened the first bag, extracting a deceptively simple cream skirt and a scoop-necked silky top the colour of horse chestnuts. The second held a pair of high-heeled cream sandals.

When she could find a voice, she said, ‘You bought these—for me?’

‘I hardly plan to wear them myself. I suggest you change into them now. Practise walking in those heels.’

She gasped. ‘I’ll do nothing of the kind.’ She tried to stuff everything back into the bags. ‘You have no right—no right at all … ‘

He sighed. ‘Please don’t fuss. You admitted yourself you’re not dressed for the part. Now you can be.’

She said, ‘I could live for a month on what you’ve just paid for this stuff.’

Mark shrugged. ‘Then tomorrow you can sell it on eBay,’ he returned. ‘But I suggest that you hang on to it. Wear it when you meet your publishers. You might get a better deal if they think you’re not hungry.’ He looked her over. ‘And leave your hair loose.’

She was quivering with temper. ‘Any other instructions—sir?’

‘Not at the moment, but that could change.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’m going to put some coffee on while you get dressed. We haven’t got all day.’

As he went to the door, she said, ‘One thing occurred to me.’ She hesitated. ‘You don’t think Kit may have told her about moving me in here? That she might recognise my name?’

‘Unlikely,’ he said. ‘Even if he did share the joke with her, your actual identity would be far too unimportant a detail to mention.’

‘Oh,’ she said with false brightness, ‘that’s all right then.’

‘No,’ he said, more gently. ‘But I’m afraid it’s as good as it gets, with that precious pair.’ He grimaced. ‘As you’re about to find out,’ he added, and went.

The new clothes, she had to admit, were becoming. Even more annoyingly, they were a perfect fit. And the sandals made her already slim legs racehorse-slender.

She found herself wondering what Mark would say when she went to join him in the sitting room, but he merely looked her over, then nodded abruptly.

And a moment later the imperious sound of the buzzer announced that their visitor had arrived.

Tallie turned to him, apprehension twisting inside her. ‘Shall I—answer the door?’

‘We’ll do it together,’ Mark said. ‘And—relax,’ he added as they walked down the passage. ‘Remember you’re not here to make a good impression.’

The woman confronting them on the doorstep was tall and stunningly attractive, with blonde hair caught back in an immaculate chignon. Her complexion was flawless, her nose short and straight, and she had enormous blue eyes fringed by curling lashes heavily enhanced by mascara. Her reed-slender figure was moulded closely by a suit in royal blue, the skirt displaying shapely legs and the short jacket revealing rather more than a hint of cleavage.

Tallie, who’d been expecting a hatchet-faced harridan, found herself almost gaping. Kit’s mother? she queried in silent incredulity. She doesn’t look old enough.

She thought of her own mother—warm, pretty and adored by her husband, but with comfortable curves, a few first touches of grey in her hair and laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. Tried to imagine her in an outfit like that, and failed utterly.

‘Mark, darling, how wonderful to see you.’ Veronica Melrose’s voice was low and husky. The astonishing blue eyes rested on Tallie. ‘And who is this?’

‘This, my dear Veronica, is Natalie.’ He put an easy arm round Tallie’s shoulders and drew her against him, giving her no option but compliance, she realised mutinously. But she could hardly accuse him of taking advantage of the situation when she’d agreed to this charade.

She was also aware that the older woman’s harebell gaze had carried out a lightning assessment of everything she was wearing, costing it to the last penny. But she still wasn’t sure she’d passed muster.

I’m just not glamorous enough, she thought, and swallowed.

‘Do come in,’ Mark went on. ‘May we offer you some coffee?’

‘That would be pleasant.’ Mrs Melrose walked into the sitting room and deposited herself decoratively on the sofa. Not many women of her age could pout and get away with it, thought Tallie, but she managed it somehow. ‘I did hope that our conversation would be a private one. Is there any reason for your … little friend to be present?’

Mark looked surprised. ‘She lives here,’ he said. ‘With me. Perhaps I should have made that clear.’

‘Perhaps you should.’ The husky voice had acquired a metallic edge. She gave a little laugh. ‘Well, well. The eternal bachelor caught at last. And in such a young and charming trap. How fascinating.’

Tallie said coolly, ‘I don’t think Mark feels particularly trapped. I’ll fetch the coffee.’

‘You seem to have made yourself quite at home,’ Veronica commented as she returned, placing the tray on the table. ‘Although you clearly haven’t had a chance to put your own stamp on it yet—whatever that might be.’ As she accepted the coffee Tallie handed to her, she flicked a disparaging glance round the room. ‘But it so needs updating.’ She looked at Mark. ‘Kit told me he was astonished you hadn’t brought in a decent decorator by now.’

‘And is he equally amazed by Australia?’ Mark enquired politely. He reached up a hand and pulled Tallie down on to the sofa beside him. ‘I assume you’ve heard from him.’

‘Indeed I have.’ Veronica jerked upright as if a steel pole had suddenly replaced her spine. ‘He’s been telephoning me nearly every day. He’s having the most appalling time, stuck at this vineyard which seems to be miles from anywhere else. The weather’s disgusting—apparently it’s winter—and he actually saw a snake.’

She shuddered. ‘He should never have gone there.’ She gave Mark a look that wasn’t remotely seductive. ‘But I have you to thank for that.’

‘Difficult to see how,’ he returned indifferently. ‘When I was at the back of beyond myself, and in a totally different continent. Besides, didn’t you sweet-talk poor Charles into taking him on at Melrose and Sons?’

Her crimson mouth tightened impatiently. ‘I meant Kit should have taken his rightful place by now in his father’s company.’

‘I didn’t tell him to abandon his engineering course at university,’ Mark said shortly. ‘That was all his own idea. But if he’d stuck to it, he’d have found himself in places he’d have liked even less than Australia.’

‘There must be projects in this country too.’ She waved a vague hand. ‘Hotels, leisure complexes, shopping malls. Something he could have enjoyed.’

‘But we’re committed to roads, bridges and hydro-electric schemes,’ Mark said gently. ‘Long-term developments which will help rather more people.’

Veronica shrugged. ‘Until they choose to blow them up, of course.’ She added with a touch of malice, ‘Isn’t that what happened on your last site?’

‘A temporary set-back,’ Mark drawled. ‘And now that the fighting seems to be over, we’ll be going back to the Ubilisi to finish what we started.’

Tallie stared at him. When she spoke, she found her voice was shaking. ‘But that’s dangerous, surely. The previous government’s been overthrown, and the new regime tried to kill you when you were there before. You only just got out last time.’

There was an odd silence, then Veronica gave a tinkling laugh. ‘Why, Mark, the child is seriously concerned about you. How terribly sweet.’ She looked at Tallie. ‘But a complete waste of time, my dear. Mark is a law unto himself, and he actually revels in charging off to remote corners of the globe, turning disasters into triumphs. No one woman could possibly offer a viable alternative to that sort of buzz.’

She paused. ‘But that does not mean Kit has to do the same. He can’t possibly stay where he is, when he’s so wretched. He needs to come home, and find work in this country.’

She paused again. ‘So, I thought you might offer him a job. It’s full time he learned about the company, especially when you’re still hurling yourself into the world’s trouble spots. After all, Kit is your nearest male relative, and if something were to … happen, he’d be your heir.’

‘You think so?’ Mark’s tone was dry. He slid his arm round Tallie’s waist, smiling down at her. ‘But all that might change very soon.’

‘Good God.’ Veronica’s eyes swept over Tallie’s slim figure with disbelief. ‘You mean …’

‘I mean nothing yet,’ Mark returned easily, as Tallie sat rigidly beside him, not knowing where to look. ‘But we’re working on it.’ He paused. ‘And there are no vacancies at Benedicts that would pay Kit the kind of salary he’d clearly expect, or make use of his extremely limited skills.

‘We market our expertise, Veronica, trouble-shooting difficult engineering projects all over the world. Believe me, your son is better off where he is. And, if he works, he might even get promotion eventually.’

‘I see.’ The coffee cup rattled in its saucer as Veronica replaced it on the table. ‘Then there’s nothing more to be said.’ Her look lasered Tallie. ‘However, I do hope you’re going to make up for my disappointment by offering me a bed for the night. I’m dining with friends this evening and I have an early dental appointment tomorrow morning.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘You do have a spare room? I’m sure Kit has mentioned it.’

‘I’m certain he has.’ Mark shrugged. ‘But Natalie’s currently using it as an office. Besides, I thought you always stayed at The Ritz.’

‘I do, but Charles is being very difficult at the moment. Says we have to cut back on our spending.’ The pout reappeared and the blue eyes rested smilingly on Mark. ‘I didn’t think you’d begrudge me just one night.’

‘Except,’ Mark said gently, ‘that Natalie and I are enjoying our privacy, and really don’t wish it to be interrupted, not even by the most understanding guest.’

‘My dear Mark—such unwonted concentration on one woman. I can hardly believe my ears. I think the best thing I can do is go, and leave you in peace.’ At the door, she turned. ‘And please don’t worry. There’ll be other nights, I’m sure.’

When Mark returned from showing her out, Tallie was still seated on the sofa, staring into space.

She said, ‘That was awful.’

‘It’s also over.’

‘Is it?’ She looked up at him. ‘Your stepmother doesn’t seem to think so. If I was genuinely involved with you, I’d be starting to wonder.’

‘But as you’re not,’ he said coldly, ‘you need not concern yourself.’ He picked up the coffee tray and carried it to the kitchen. After a moment or two, she followed.

‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice faltered a little. ‘That was wrong of me. I don’t really believe that … you … that you and Veronica …’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ His tone was dry. ‘It’s slightly gutting to find someone thinks you can be that much of a bastard.’

‘Yes.’ The word had a hollow ring, the image of Hugo Cantrell large in her mind.

‘Well, don’t look so stricken.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Because I’m no saint, and at times it’s been a damned close-run thing. Veronica can pack quite a punch, especially when you’re sixteen and not nearly as sexually experienced as you like to think.’

Tallie gasped. ‘She came on to you—at that age?’

‘She’d correctly figured I wasn’t a virgin. Also, she was only nineteen when she married my father, and he was already in his mid-forties. Maybe that side of their relationship was on the wane, or perhaps she was simply feeling the seven year itch.’

He paused. ‘I’ve wondered since if she also saw it as a way of establishing a hold over me—insurance for the future, perhaps.’

He added lightly, ‘On the other hand, she may simply have found the idea amusing. All those raging adolescent hormones at her disposal—if I’d proved amenable.’

‘But surely she can’t still think …’

‘No?’ he asked. ‘When you admitted you began to wonder.’ He shook his head. ‘Veronica is not a woman to allow her marriage vows to stand in her way.’

‘She’s vile.’

‘She’s also sad.’ He paused. ‘But thank you for saving me from a potentially awkward situation. I owe you big time, and I won’t forget it.’

‘I wish I could say it was a pleasure.’ She got to her feet. ‘And now I have some awkward situations of my own to deal with, so I’d better get back to work.’

‘You won’t allow me to express my gratitude by taking you for an expensive lunch? It seems a pity to waste the new gear.’ His voice followed her to the door.

She didn’t look back at him. ‘No, thanks.’ She sounded faintly brittle. ‘Veronica seems to have killed my appetite stone dead.’

Back in her room, she found she was leaning back against the panels of the door, panting as if she’d been running, angry with herself and bewildered at the same time. After all, she was undeniably hungry, so where would have been the harm?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—a girl she hardly recognised in the smart, unfamiliar clothes, her eyes unnaturally bright and her cheeks flushed.

And knew exactly why she wouldn’t take the risk.

She wrote steadily for the rest of the day, her unaccustomed finery restored to its carrier bags and stowed at the back of the wardrobe. Out of sight, out of mind, she told herself.

And when eventually she ventured out to heat a tin of soup and make a sandwich, the flat was deserted.

She’d just cleared away her makeshift meal when the buzzer sounded. What now? she wondered, groaning silently as she obeyed its summons. Don’t tell me Veronica’s come back to say all the hotels are full.

But when she opened the door, she found Justin smiling at her.

‘Hi,’ he said, too casually. ‘Is Mark around?’

‘No,’ she said, her own lips twitching reluctantly. ‘But I suspect you knew that already.’

‘So, are you going to let me in? I promise I’m safe and house-trained.’

‘Also difficult to keep away.’ Tallie stood aside to admit him and led the way to the sitting room. ‘The choice is tea or coffee. The alcohol belongs to Mark.’

Justin opened the briefcase he was carrying and produced a bottle. ‘Cloudy Bay,’ he said. ‘Taste it and fall in love. But only with the wine, naturally.’

‘Naturally,’ Tallie agreed dryly, and went to fetch the corkscrew.

Although unexpected, it was a relaxed and convivial interlude, taking away the sour taste of Veronica Melrose’s visit. They talked about books, comparing favourite authors, found they had broadly similar tastes in music, but differed widely on films. And the wine was wonderful.

By the time he left an hour later, she found she’d agreed to accompany him to the theatre the following week, and when he paused at the front door, cupping her chin gently in his hand and bending towards her, she allowed his kiss, which was brief, undemanding, yet undeniably pleasant.

Alone, Tallie smiled as she re-corked what was left of the wine, preparatory to putting it in the fridge, and began to wash the glasses.

There was no denying that Justin was an extremely attractive man. And, with his fair hair and blue eyes, exactly her type, as well as being practically a template for William in her book.

I based him originally on Gareth, she thought. And when Gareth turned out to be not the person I’d hoped, I think I may have stopped believing in William too, and that’s why I’m having all these problems in bringing him to life. But maybe it will be easier to put him centre stage from now on.

As for Hugo Cantrell, who was becoming almost too real, and who might have to be killed off in some unpleasant way …

‘You look very fierce,’ Mark commented from the doorway. ‘Is something wrong?’

She almost dropped the glass she was drying. ‘I—I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘Evidently. You were lost in thought.’ He looked at the wine bottle on the counter top. ‘Been entertaining?’

‘Yes, as it happens.’ Her tone was defensive.

‘May I guess the identity of your visitor?’ The note of amusement in his voice was not lost on her.

She stared at him. ‘Did you tell him to come?’

‘As if.’ He leaned a shoulder against the door frame. ‘So where’s he taking you?’

‘To the new Leigh Hanford play,’ she admitted unwillingly.

‘It’s had good reviews,’ he said casually. ‘He’s lucky to get tickets.’

She frowned. ‘Did you have anything to do with that?’

‘Why, Miss Paget,’ he drawled, ‘what a suspicious mind you have. I suppose it comes from working out plots.’

‘Probably,’ she said. ‘And now I must go and work out some more of them. Goodnight, Mr Benedict.’

‘Goodnight to you, Miss Paget.’ He added softly, ‘I hope your dreams are sweet.’

Tallie hoped so too as she headed towards her room, but they would have to be delayed. First she would have to find some way of dealing with Hugo Cantrell. After all, the wretched man seemed to be taking over the book, and that was the last thing she wanted. So he would have to go. Painfully and permanently.

At the same time it occurred to her that, although she might be able to remove him from the manuscript, it would not be so easy to erase his dark-haired, green-eyed image from her mind.

Not when she was living with the real thing.

A disturbing reflection that pursued her for the remainder of the night, so that the dreams that eventually punctuated her sleep were restless and uneasy.