Читать книгу The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress - Tessa Radley - Страница 8

Joshua made his way over to where his parents stood with Alyssa, Alice—whatever her damned name was.

He was aware of the incongruously glamourous, burgundy dress she wore and how it mirrored the colour of her long hair. Against the rich hue her bare shoulders gleamed like pale pearls.

Angrily he suppressed the flare of reckless want. He’d just taken a call from the surgery team advising that his brother was in critical condition—worse than the medical team had originally believed—and here he was lusting after Alyssa Blake, accomplished liar. It was insane.

But even as he drew closer, she gathered up her bag and rose to her feet. He stopped beside his parents and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, at a loss to convey what he had learned. As Alyssa started for the doors one hand shot out and snagged her arm. “Where are you going?”

She kept her head down and continued to walk. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait … I need some answers.”

But she pulled free of his hold and marched toward the external glass doors in a flurry of dark red. Joshua started after her, then stopped as Heath came over and murmured, “Have you told Mum and Dad?”

He shook his head.

His parents must come first.

The next two minutes were a nightmare as he relayed what the surgeon had told him. “It’s the internal bleeding they’re worried about, and the head injury. Roland wasn’t wearing a seat belt. He was catapulted from the SUV. The surgeon said they don’t expect to be out for hours.”

His mother’s eyes stretched wide, shocked. His father straightened stiffly. Heath, his brave, bad-boy brother, was still pale under his tan. Joshua knew they all feared the same unspoken thing—that Roland might die.

Through the glass doors he could see Alyssa Blake’s back, bare above that killer dress. She must be freezing. Then he put how cold she must be out of his mind.

All this had started with her arrival.

Anger turned his vision bright red. Leaving his parents with Heath, he stalked forward. The doors slid open and cool, dank night air rushed against his face.

The doors hissed closed behind him. Ahead lay the almost-empty car park. Alyssa didn’t spare him a glance.

He drew a deep, steadying breath. “You came with me. How do you propose to leave?”

She brandished a cell phone. “I’ve called a cab—I need to collect my car from your home.”

“You can’t be intending to drive back to Auckland tonight?”

“Don’t worry, there’s not a drop of alcohol in my system.” She gave him a sideways glance. “But, no, I won’t be leaving tonight. I want to stay near Roland.”

He drew another, deeper breath and forced himself not to react. Instead he said as calmly as he could manage, “You must be freezing. Here, take my jacket.” He started to shrug off the black dinner jacket he’d grabbed before they’d left the homestead.

But she said, “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’ve got gooseflesh.” He touched the skin on her upper arms, and she leapt away as if he’d singed her.

“I don’t need it. The taxi will be here in a moment.”

“You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

She stilled. “Okay, thank you.”

He slid the jacket off. It sounded as if it had taken a lot for her to accept his offer of help. Contrary damn woman. Watching her wind the jacket around herself, he relaxed a little as the pale tempting flesh disappeared out of sight.

“Where will you stay?”

Her mouth curled. “Don’t worry, you won’t need to track me down. I’ll return it to you tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

She named a popular hotel in town.

“And you’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Part of him wanted her to leave, never come back. He couldn’t help the ridiculous superstitious stab of dread that her arrival had heralded Roland’s accident. But there was another part of him, the sybaritic pagan part, who wanted to see her again. Touch her again. Kiss her again.

For one reckless instant he considered doing just that. It would be so easy. One tug, and she’d be up against his chest. He’d feel her body warm against his, he’d taste her lips under his mouth. The cold that froze him inside might seep away under her touch … her kisses.

And then he’d despise himself for it. He shook his head to clear it.

Maybe Alyssa Blake was a witch.

“I might leave tomorrow. It depends.” Alyssa gave him a sideways glance.

But Joshua barely heard. He frowned as he took in her red-rimmed eyes, the silvery stains on her cheeks where the wind had already dried the tears. “You’ve been crying.”

Quickly she averted her face.

“Why?”

The look she gave him revealed too little. Secrets, he thought suddenly. He glanced through the glass doors and his gaze landed on Amy, curled up in the chair, her face wearing an expression of intense misery.

His gaze came back to Alyssa and narrowed. Instead of drowning her, his dinner jacket simply increased her upmarket city sexiness. She was gorgeous, stylish, smart. The kind of woman Roland had always dated before he’d become engaged to Amy….

And Amy had been upset earlier this evening—she and Roland had fought, even though it was common knowledge they never fought. The uncertain suspicion coalesced into certainty.

Alyssa had been having an affair with Roland.

She must have confronted Roland during the evening, and Amy had found out.

It wasn’t important, Alyssa had said when Joshua asked her about her conversation with his brother. He’d known from the flicker in her eyes that she’d been lying. The conversation had been very important.

And now Roland was unconscious….

No wonder Alyssa was upset. Did she feel responsible for causing her lover’s accident?

Did she love his brother?

He raked his hands through his hair as unruly thoughts churned round and round in his overwrought brain. “Who invited you to the ball tonight? You weren’t on the list of official guests—it had to be a personal invitation.” From Roland?

“I didn’t have an invitation. I gate-crashed.” There was defiance in her gaze.

Then she turned away. He heard what she had, the sound of the taxi pulling up at the curb.

But all he could think about was that Roland hadn’t invited her. Or she could be lying. Again. “Why? What did you hope to achieve?”

She didn’t answer and started to move away.

“Tell me, dammit.” Without thought, he reached for her. His hands closed over her shoulders covered with the fine fabric of his jacket. He glared down into her blank features, her lashes lying long and dark against her cheeks. “Tell me!”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Had she tried to break up Roland’s engagement? He struggled to read the beautiful, frozen face. “I think it does.”

She didn’t answer. He slid his hands down and circled her wrists, gave them a shake to get her to meet his gaze.

Wrapped in his jacket, she stood unmoving. And strangely that made him even angrier. He wanted her to object to his hold, he wanted her to struggle, to see her eyes spit fire at him; he didn’t like the limp arms in his grasp, the listlessness in her eyes.

So he softened his grasp and said with quiet menace, “What did you want at Saxon’s Folly tonight?”

She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.”

He heard the taxi door open.

“Ma’am, did you book the taxi?”

He looked over her shoulder. “The lady’s not ready to leave yet.”

“But I am,” she murmured.

His brows drew together. “I want an answer before you go. What did you want?”

What had happened between her and Roland? Had Roland sent her away—was that why she’d kissed him out in the garden? To get back at Roland? Was that why she’d landed in his bed?

As revenge against his brother?

He didn’t like that idea at all. Yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to release her arm. The pain in her eyes damn near killed him.

He’d never envied his older brother, but now he did.

Whatever happened, if Roland survived the hours of surgery that lay ahead, Joshua wasn’t going to allow Alyssa to rekindle whatever affair she and Roland had going. He told himself that his resolve had nothing to do with the wild feeling that Alyssa had aroused in him; he had Amy to think about. Sweet Amy who was expecting to marry Roland in two months’ time.

Behind him he heard the doors whisper open.

“Joshua?”

He turned and glared at Heath. “What?”

“Mother wants you.”

Alyssa pulled free. “I’ll get your jacket back to you tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the damn jacket.” Inside he seethed. “This conversation is not finished. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She wouldn’t flee town overnight, not while the outcome of Roland’s surgery was unknown. Secure in that knowledge he turned on his heel and followed his brother back into the hospital.

It was going to be a long night.

The sound of her cell phone ringing shattered Alyssa’s restless sleep. The compressing darkness of the hotel room lay like a heavy blanket around her.

It would be Joshua calling to finish the conversation he’d started outside the emergency room. Alyssa dragged herself upright. She wasn’t ready for this confrontation. Then she spotted the green digital numerals of the clock radio and her heart jolted with fear. Four-thirty in the morning. Too early to be Joshua.

Her hand trembling, she picked up the phone.

“Where are you staying?” Little composure remained in Kay Saxon’s voice.

Alyssa’s heart slammed against her ribs in fear as she automatically gave Kay the information she sought. “Is Roland okay?” she asked shakily.

There was an ominous silence. Then Kay said, “I’ll send a cab. You need to come now.” The phone went dead.

It had to be bad.

With few alternatives—the red dress or a pin-striped business suit—Alyssa threw on the pair of baggy sweats and sweater she’d worn for the drive down to Hawkes Bay and was downstairs in minutes. By the time the lights of the cab cut through the dark gray pre-dawn light she was already out on the sidewalk.

Too soon she’d reached the white hospital building. Inside, everything was quiet. She made for the front desk. “Where will I find Roland Saxon?”

“Are you Alice?” A nurse came around the desk at her silent nod. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”

Sick with anxiety, Alyssa was led through double-seal doors into a unit filled with beeps and a sense of life-and-death gravity. At the sound of hissing as the ventilator rose and fell, fear shafted through Alyssa.

She took in the couple hovering by the bed.

Kay and Phillip Saxon.

On a high bed lay a prone figure wrapped in dressings, attached to the life-support machines, an oxygen mask over his face, so swollen that he was rendered unrecognizable. Only the shock of red hair sticking out from the head dressing revealed that this was Roland.

“You have five minutes,” the nurse whispered. “Only family are supposed to be here—and only two at a time. I’ve already stretched the rules.” Then she was gone in a rustle of starch.

Kay Saxon turned, her eyes puffy. She’d aged in the past few hours. “I’m glad you made it.”

“How is he?”

“He’s unconscious. I’m not sure how much is induced—”

Alyssa said desperately, “But he’s going to be all right.”

He had to be.

Kay took her hands. “The doctors don’t think so. That’s why I called you. I couldn’t live with myself if—” Her voice broke.

Cold dread suffocated Alyssa. “They think he’s going to die?”

Kay hesitated. “They told us to call anyone who might want to see him. They warned us to prepare for the worst.”

Her world crashed in. Alyssa fell to her knees, stretching her hands to touch the heavily bandaged hands of the man in the bed.

Her brother.

Her brother who was dying.

Kay sniffed behind her, but Alyssa was crying so hard she couldn’t think.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to have ended.

She was to see him tomorrow. Today. She’d been looking forward to reuniting with the brother she’d been searching for since she was eighteen.

“Nooo!” It was a wail of anguish.

Then Kay was holding her and murmuring to her not to cry because it might upset Roland. As Alyssa’s tears subsided, Kay pulled away. “Alyssa, the boys are coming, and I don’t want them to find you here. Phillip and I don’t want to have to answer their questions. Please, for our sakes—for Roland’s sake—will you go now?”

Before Alyssa could answer, the nurse was there, waiting to escort her out.

She wanted to beg for more time. Her throat closed. The words didn’t come. Finally, she swallowed and managed to speak. “Give me one minute. To say—” her voice cracked “—goodbye.”

Kay nodded and waved off the nurse.

Alyssa bent forward, her lips colder than ice as they brushed the forehead of the man in the bed. She noticed a drip of liquid on his forehead. Water? Another splash. No—tears, she realised. Her tears.

Closing her eyes she prayed. For Roland. For herself. For a miracle. For all the years they’d missed. Then she kissed him and murmured, “Au revoir.”

Blinded by tears, she turned for the door, the room a blur.

Joshua hurried toward the hospital elevator, Heath and his younger sister, Megan, flanking him on either side. The panel above the elevator doors showed that a car was already descending and Joshua found himself drumming his fingers as they waited for the doors to open. Hurry. Hurry.

The doors opened. A nurse exited. Then Joshua saw Alyssa coming out. “How did you get here?”

“In a cab.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He turned to his brother and sister. “You go ahead, I’ll see you upstairs.”

While he waited for the elevator to depart, he inspected Alyssa’s features, taking in the hollows under her eyes, the lack of makeup and the way her glorious hair had been pulled back from her face, as though she’d gotten ready in a hurry. In the tatty sweats she looked nothing like the sophisticated woman he’d met … was it only last night?

“What are you doing here?”

Her eyes flicked away from his. “I came to find out if there was any news about Roland’s condition.”

Joshua’s mouth tightened; he suspected she was dissembling. The suspicion of earlier was back in full force. “Why are you so upset? What’s Roland to you?”

She shook her head and didn’t answer.

Joshua couldn’t help thinking about Amy, brokenhearted and sedated for shock. “Heath had to give Amy a sleeping tablet. He’s left her at his home, with his housekeeper watching over her. How could you, Alyssa?”

Alyssa let her hands drop and stared at him blankly.

“She and Roland are getting married in two months. Now it’s all gone to hell because you couldn’t stay away from Roland.”

“What?” Her eyes were stretched wide.

Joshua frowned at the shock in her eyes. He’d surprised himself with the outburst. Normally nothing fazed him. He was the boss—people came to him for guidance and advice. Yet right now he felt like raging at her. For sure he was losing it.

And she was the catalyst.

He pushed a hand through his hair. “Why did you have to come to the ball last night and cause trouble? Was it worth it? Was it worth telling Amy about your relationship with Roland?”

“I didn’t tell Amy a thing.”

Joshua relaxed slightly. So Amy didn’t know that Roland and Alyssa were lovers. But surely Amy must have suspected Roland was embroiled in a heated affair with a woman because Joshua certainly had. All the signs had been there. The constant visits to Auckland, the cell calls that his brother took privately while talking in a low, intimate voice. By not denying her clandestine relationship with Roland, Alyssa had confirmed the suspicions he’d had about his brother for months.

“You must know that if Amy found out about you, it would devastate her. Not to say what it would do to my parents to discover that Roland had been two-timing Amy, their goddaughter. Right now they need to think about all the good things he’s achieved.”

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You think—” She broke off.

Joshua waited for her to refute that she’d been attempting to seduce Roland away from Amy. Deep down, he wanted that denial. Even though he knew it would be a lie. Instead she stood shifting from foot to foot, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil.

Raking his hands through his already ruffled hair, he sighed. “It would be better if you left now and returned to Auckland.”

“I haven’t got your jacket here—it’s back in my hotel room.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care about the jacket. I want you gone.”

She said flatly, “I’m not going until—” her throat moved as she swallowed “—until it’s all over. But Amy needn’t worry, I won’t be staying a second more than I have to. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Not wanted? Joshua suppressed the urge to groan. He wanted the woman standing in front of him more than he’d ever desired a woman in his life. But no good could come out of it. Not only had she assassinated his character in print, she’d been his brother’s lover.

And he had no intention of following in Roland’s well-worn footsteps.