Читать книгу The Seduction Trap - SARA WOOD - Страница 8

A SILENCE fell between them as they wound their way up a narrow, stepped street she didn’t remember seeing before. They passed a couple of large townhouses with mullioned windows and then a half-timbered cottage, whose walls were bright with highly scented climbing roses and honeysuckle. Tessa’s nostrils were swamped with the heady perfume and she couldn’t resist pausing to stick her nose in the velvety petals of a dark red rose.

When she straightened and looked around, she had the unnerving impression that they were the only two people for miles. Not even a dog barked. The rays of the late evening sun burned with a final, merciless intensity on the deserted street and she could feel the heat rising from the stone steps and walls, enveloping her in a suffocating blanket. Scary.

‘Where is everyone?’ she asked in a hushed voice, scanning the shuttered houses.

‘Finishing their evening meal. Then they’ll go to bed.’ Guy frowned slightly. ‘Most of the young people have moved away because of the lack of opportunities. There isn’t much activity here of an evening.’

‘You can say that again! Is it far?’ She sighed, sure that her legs would give up at any moment. ‘These steps are murdering my calves. I’m just about done in. And starving. I think I should have eaten about four hours ago,’ she added mournfully, quite forgetting the chocolate snack.

‘It’s only around the corner. Allow me,’ he said, with a show of great courtesy.

One large male hand moved firmly around her waist, supporting her. Or that was presumably its intention. In fact it made her feel even more unsteady, because his fingers lay on her bare skin beneath the cropped top—oh, what a mistake that had been!—and seemed to have made connections somehow with her entire nervous system.

The pressure on her spine increased. She could feel the warmth of his palm heating through to her very bones. A strange squiggle raced unheeded through a previously unknown route which ran from her breasts to her toes and made an embarrassing stop on the way, warming her loins with an alarming insistency. Tessa blushed, because she knew perfectly well what that squiggle meant.

She’d spent five years yearning for the unreachable David. Years of dreams and longings and imagined kisses which had built up in her mind till she’d felt delirious if he so much as looked at her—which he rarely had, because then she had held no attractions for a handsome man.

But this—this was a revelation. A total stranger was walking her to her mother’s door, and fire was coursing through her entire body as if she were hell-bent on imminent surrender!

Despite her tiredness, her eyes burned with that fire. Her skin tingled. Parts of her which ought to have known better were alert and ready for action. It was too awful! Had she lost her inhibitions along with her weight? More to the point, did the unnervingly sexy Guy know that her body was responding to some wayward call of nature?

She stole a nervous glance in his direction, found his warm, contemplative eyes on her, felt unable to look away because of a sudden dizziness—and stumbled on a broken step. In a purely reflex action he caught her up in his strong arms. And it was harder than it should have been to drag herself free.

Unhappily, she lifted the thick fringe of lashes which shaded her anxious forest-dark eyes. They asked him the unspoken question. What’s happening?

‘Sorry,’ she whispered distractedly, and even more stupidly said, ‘I’m so tired. I tripped.’

‘Did you?’

That wasn’t really a question at all. It sounded horribly like the cool carelessness of a man who was so used to women throwing themselves at him that he treated them all with scant respect. She flushed again, indignant with herself—and with him for making assumptions.

Desperate to prove her sublime indifference to his insidious charms, she said stiffly, ‘Look, you don’t need to come any further. Just point in the general direction. I’ll find it on my own.’

‘No. I’ll take you to the door.’ There was no room for argument in that tone. ‘You’re almost asleep on your feet.’

‘That’s why I tripped,’ she persisted stubbornly, squirming with mortification when he neglected to agree with her.

Looking ahead, she saw nothing but the steep rise of steps as they twisted and turned up the hill. It occurred to her that surely, no bakery would ever have set up shop this far from the centre. Suddenly suspicious of his motives, she bit her lip, wondering where he was taking her.

‘Rue Boulangerie,’ he announced, and pointed to a lane half-hidden on her left.

‘Oh!’ She’d misjudged him. They’d arrived! Tessa’s whole body slumped against the wall in sheer relief. ‘That’s wonderful! You’ve no idea how grateful I am! Thank you. Thank you!’

Her beatific smile apparently startled him. For a breathless moment he stared down at her, his expression puzzled. Then, ‘Let’s make sure your mother is in,’ he suggested with silky smoothness.

‘Of course she’ll be in!’ she said in surprise. ‘It’s been arranged. Which house is it?’

‘The one at the end.’

It was quite small, part of a short terrace of crumbling buildings. The evidence that it once had been a shop was apparent in the large window and faded sign above the door. The house looked uncared-for, and Tessa swallowed back the lump in her throat.

‘It needs a lot of work done to it,’ she said in a small voice, her heart sinking as she ran an expert eye over the building.

‘Aren’t you going to knock?’ asked Guy, when she hesitated.

‘I’m…’ Her hands fluttered in the air helplessly. She flung a panic-stricken glance up at him, confused by the turmoil of her emotions. ‘I’m nervous. It’s a long time since I’ve seen my mother,’ she confided huskily. ‘Twenty years ago. I was five.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘All I remember is a mass of blonde hair and the smell of jasmine. I—I wonder what she’ll make of me? I’ve heard so much about her.’

‘Have you?’ For several seconds he studied her face, his expression unreadable. ‘Then,’ he said eventually, ‘the sooner you get the next few minutes over with the better.’ And he reached up to rap on the door with a fist so hard that it would have summoned the dead.

Tessa swallowed to calm her nerves and hastily tidied her silky hair with her fingers. No one came. He knocked again, with the same result. Bewildered, she exchanged glances with Guy, her stomach lurching sickeningly.

‘This is the right house?’ she asked. He nodded. Pityingly. And her hands went clammy. ‘She must be in!’ she cried, her voice wavering.

‘Must she?’ He was frowning at the peeling paint on the door, his fingers lifting off one or two of the flakes. His thumb investigated the inadequate pointing of the stone faade. ‘Perhaps—as I suspected—there’s another reason she’s not answering.’

There was a sudden silence. Tessa’s eyes rounded in alarm. ‘You’re deliberately trying to frighten me!’ she accused him.

He looked as if he felt genuinely sorry for her. Caught by an urge to grab him and shake him for upsetting her, she flicked her tongue around her dry mouth and tried to stay rational. There would be an ordinary explanation. Her mother had run out of milk. Lost a cat. Run out of petrol somewhere. Everything would be fine.

‘I have a key,’ she said shakily. ‘Mother sent it in case I arrived early. We didn’t know how long it would take me to get here. Perhaps I should let myself in and wait.’

He gave a shrug. ‘Let yourself in by all means. But don’t raise your hopes.’

‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, tension holding her body rigid. ‘And who the devil are you to know so much?’

The sardonic eyes chilled her bones. ‘My name is de Turaine,’ he answered quietly. ‘And this is my village. Or, rather, most of it is mine.’

Tessa’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re the new landlord! The son of the man who didn’t care about his own village!’

‘Correct. I flew over from New Orleans two weeks ago. My father died two weeks before that,’ he said in a matter-of-fact tone. And, because he showed no sign of regret or sorrow, the flustered Tessa didn’t offer her sympathies. What kind of man was he, she thought, to dismiss his father’s death so casually? ‘In case you’re wondering, the neglect here came as a total shock to me,’ he went on tightly. ‘I hadn’t been near Turaine for half my lifetime.’

While she digested that information he took the key from her trembling fingers, thrust the door open and waved her in.

Astonished, she obeyed his imperious gesture, finding herself in a chilly room which was so dark that she couldn’t see anything clearly. It smelt of damp, decaying timber and saturated stone. It was the same smell she’d encountered when working with the team of restorers on Kernow House, a run-down stately home in the Lynher Valley.

The cottage must be in as bad a state as she’d feared. It was a depressing arrival, and awful to think of her mother living in dark, dank conditions like these. A concrete monstrosity would have been better!

‘Mum?’ she called desperately. ‘Mum! Where are you?’ The house lay as silent and as cold as a grave. She found a light switch and flicked it on, only to stand stock-still in dismay. ‘This place is awful!’ she exclaimed, her horrified eyes taking in the chaos. ‘And it’s been vandalised—!’

‘No. I think not. Mon Dieu! What a mess!’ muttered Guy, dumping the bike panniers on the floor and looking around at the tumbled furniture and scattered belongings, his mouth grim with disapproval.

‘How could your father let it get into this mess?’ she raged. ‘When I think of my mother struggling to manage—’

‘Your mother’s responsible for the state of this house. She owns it,’ he broke in tightly. ‘Though I expect to regain possession of it soon—and the two cottages next door, which are also hers.’

‘I don’t believe you. No one would willingly live like this!’ cried Tessa loyally. ‘She’d slap on a coat of paint and wash the curtains—’

‘How the hell do you know?’

That made her stop in her tracks. She didn’t. ‘There’s something odd about this,’ she insisted, though less confidently. ‘No one would leave furniture overturned.’ Her voice sank to a whisper. ‘Something awful’s happened.’

He fixed her with a piercing stare. ‘Damn right it has!’ he answered grimly. ‘Which makes me as keen as you to find her.’

‘Find her?’ Tessa looked at him blankly. ‘You think… she’s…missing?’

‘No.’ The sculpted mouth took on a contemptuous curve. ‘She’s not missing—I’d bet my life on that. I believe she’s disappeared.’

Tessa gulped. ‘Disappeared?’ she squeaked.

‘Of her own free will,’ he said tightly, and all the air rushed out of Tessa’s lungs in a soft ‘oh’. ‘When you said you’d come to meet her, I did hope that the rumours I’d heard last night were untrue. She and I have some unfinished business—the sale of her properties. But I’m afraid that her neighbours’ suspicions are correct.’ He fixed her with a knife-edge stare. ‘I believe your mother has run away.’

Tessa glared. How dared he? ‘Don’t be ridiculous! She rang me. She said she’d be here—’ Furious that Guy was ignoring her, and had wandered over to a table covered by a dirty lace cloth, she raised her voice a decibel or two. ‘Look, this is meant to be our reunion! She rang me! She wanted it! She wouldn’t run out on me!’

He gave an elegantly derisive snort. ‘She’d do anything if it suited her!’ he said cynically.

Suddenly Tessa’s face crumpled. She thought of all the years she’d longed for a mother to confide in, a mother who would have helped her to cope with the bullying and teasing, who might have loved her and prevented her from seeking love from the heartless David. Her expression became forlorn.

‘I’m her daughter!’ she cried, pushing back the treacherous thought that her mother hadn’t ever been concerned about that fact before. ‘I—I’ve come all this way—’

‘Well, I’ll be damned!’

She hoped so. Tessa scowled at his back, torn between screeching hysterically and bawling her eyes out. He seemed more interested in the things on the table than the fact that she’d been abandoned.

‘What is it?’ she asked irritably.

He was smiling with satisfaction when he turned around, and clutched a piece of paper. But when his gaze fell on Tessa’s quivering lower lip the smile faded and an almost gentle light touched his eyes. She watched him with wary suspicion. Why had he suddenly become all sweetness and light? she wondered apprehensively.

‘I found this propped up against that pile of books,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be hurt.’

Her hand flew to her throat as she looked at the piece of paper. ‘Hurt? Why…why should I be hurt?’ She thought of several reasons why people left notes. And she licked her lips, backing away from the offered paper. ‘I—I don’t want to read it!’ she husked.

‘Relax. Your mother’s safe,’ he soothed. ‘But she has gone. This explains why.’

She tried to concentrate, finding it hard to take in what the words said.

Sorry, darling. Creditors pressing. I’ve given you the houses. They’re a bit of a millstone around my neck! My present to you—the documents are around somewhere…

‘The houses?’ she cried in astonishment. ‘She’s given me the houses? Why? I don’t believe it—’

‘I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you,’ Guy said sardonically. ‘They’re more of a liability than an asset.’

‘But…I don’t understand! She can’t mean it. What will I do with them? And where will she live?’

‘Anywhere but here, I imagine,’ he replied drily.

She’d run away because of creditors. Tessa felt the familiar hollow sensation in her stomach. Her own experience of debt had been hideous. It had been a nightmare catching up with the back payments on the furniture her father had bought on hire purchase just before he’d lost his last job.

Only too well she remembered the burly men who’d accompanied the debt collector, the menacing way they’d looked at her and inflated their chests under their beerstained vests to the size of barn doors. Once, when she hadn’t been able to pay, they’d walked in and taken her portable radio and told her she’d save more money if she ate less.

Feeling the nausea crawl up to her throat, she closed her eyes tightly. This wasn’t happening. She’d wake up and it would all be a dream.

A hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No! I’m not!’ she snapped, her eyes opening and flicking green fire at him. ‘I come here, find my mother’s gone, that some hulking great brutes have frightened her away…’

She bit her lip. Shaking off the supposedly soothing hand, she bent her head and read the rest of the note. ‘Had to go. Didn’t fancy being beaten up! Love, Estelle.’ Almost as an afterthought, she’d crossed out ‘Estelle’ and substituted ‘Mother’.

Guy had been right. She’d done a runner. Tessa felt herself trembling. No mother to greet her. No heart-to-hearts, no hugs or happy reconciliations…

Miserably she looked up, her dark lashes blinking furiously as she struggled to hold back the hot tears. ‘She knew I was coming…’ Her voice turned into a husky croak. ‘And—and what it meant to me and Dad…’

Suddenly weak, she stumbled to an armchair. It collapsed under her slight weight and she was left trapped in the midst of the wreckage, howling with surprise and disappointment. Guy came over to extricate her but her arms windmilled in a gesture of furious and stubborn rejection. He shrugged and left the room. And she felt very alone.