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Authors: Kim Lawrence

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BOOK: An Innocent Affair
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‘Any man would be likely to forget he was married when you turn up the heat. In your position the temptation to use your God-given gifts must be irresistible.'

Lloyd—he was talking about Lloyd. The realisation seared through her body. Her hand came up to his shoulders and she pushed, even though she knew her efforts would have no impact on him.

‘Let me go!' she breathed, through clenched teeth. Her wild movement sent a watercolour that was hung just above her head crashing to the floor. Shards of wood and gold leaf from the frame scattered over the carpet. Amazingly, the glass stayed intact.

The noise seemed to recall Alex to his surroundings. The quiet, chintzy normality of the room seemed a million miles away from… He lifted his hands abruptly from her, looked with a stunned expression at the palms and then back at Hope's flushed face. His hands fell to his sides.

‘You're right. This isn't the time or place,' he said abruptly.

Hope felt sick. He still thought she was a slut—just a desirable slut! ‘There isn't a right time or place. Not for you.' Chin up, she prepared to withstand whatever he chose to throw at her.

‘I'm not a fool, Hope, I know when a woman wants me.' With a dismissive, half-impatient gesture, Alex thrust his fingers through his hair.

‘I have to look beyond basic desire.' She gave a shrug. ‘I have to look ahead. Lloyd could give my career in films a kick-start. What can you give me? You have to look at this from my point of view.' At least he looked shocked; that was something. Why look shocked? she wanted to ask. If I was the woman you think I am, isn't that what I'd be thinking?

‘Are you asking me to believe that you're no better than a high-class hooker?'

‘I'm not asking you to believe that, Alex, that's what you
do
believe,' she pointed out gravely. ‘I don't want anything to do with you while that's the case.'

‘You want me to believe that half the world's press got it wrong? That's a lot of doubt to give anyone the benefit of. Why not just be honest? There's nobody here but us. I can appreciate you want to shield your parents from the truth, and I'm sure they find your fairy tales comforting, but spare me.'

‘I wasn't about to defend myself to you.'

‘That's convenient, because I'm not a gullible parent
who wants to believe the lines I'm being fed. Listen, Hope, I admit that initially I thought you were something you're not. I'm not saying you misled me intentionally…'

‘That's big of you.'

‘It was pretty naive of me, considering the sort of circles you've been moving in since your teens. I don't expect a girl survives without developing a hard skin. It's nothing to do with me who you've slept with or why.'

What a nice, open-minded, tolerant creature he was, she thought, watching him from under the sweep of her lashes. Where was all this leading to? she wondered grimly.

‘You must be finding it pretty constricting, being stuck here?'

‘I must?'

‘I don't have any illusions for you to shatter.'

‘I'll sleep better knowing that.'

‘With me, I hope,' he said smoothly, ignoring the sarcasm in her tone. ‘It's what we both want and you've not a lot else to do.'

Old-fashioned courting. There was nothing quite like it. ‘I can quite honestly say,' she said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion, ‘that I've never had a proposition quite like that before.'

‘I like to be original.' He didn't appear to be waiting with bated breath for her reply. He looked quietly confident and insultingly casual about the entire thing.

‘Pacifism,' she said unsteadily, ‘is suddenly looking much less appealing.' Tears of sheer fury were stinging the back of her eyelids.

‘Dear God, woman, is it
that
important for you to preserve your wholesome nice-girl role?'

‘I
am
a nice girl, but if you don't leave immediately
I'll forget the fact and tell you exactly what I think of you.'

His square jaw tightened, but he smiled with unique unpleasantness. ‘Have it your way. But you might regret this noble stance when you're lying alone in your virginal white sheets.'

‘I hope thinking of my virginal sheets gives you a good night's sleep!' She flung the words at his broad back.

Hope had no way of knowing that this dart had accurately found its target—Alex's back was not very revealing.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘W
ELL
, what's this brilliant idea of yours, then?' Hope asked her sister, who invaded rather than visited these days. It was bewildering, she reflected, just how much paraphernalia two small babies required.

‘Here, hold your godson,' Anna said, extracting one of her sons from the Moses basket. ‘Support his head.'

Easy for you to say, Hope thought as she obediently received the soft bundle on her lap. ‘I'm not very good with babies,' she replied uncertainly. The tiny creature in her arms stared back placidly at her with the unnerving intensity of a new-born. ‘Hello, shrimp,' she said softly. A tiny fist closed around her probing finger and she gasped. ‘He's so strong.'

Anna gave a small complacent smile. ‘He's superior to other babies in every way,' she agreed. ‘So is Henry.' She surreptitiously glanced at the sleeping infant in the vacated crib. ‘Speaking of whom, do you mind keeping your voice down? He's not nearly so quiet as Joe when he's awake.'

‘You were talking about your brilliant idea…' Hope cast the sleeping figure a suspicious look. Faced with a crying baby, she suspected she might well panic. Glancing at the contented face of her sister, she wondered where Anna had learnt what to do. Did it really come naturally? Perhaps there's some essential mothering factor missing in me, she pondered.

‘I've worked out a way to make Mum and Dad go on their cruise.'

‘That's marvellous!' Despite the cheerful face their
mother had been putting on, Hope knew how much both her parents had been looking forward to the trip.

‘We'll work out a rota.'

‘Rota?'

‘A “make sure poor helpless Hope isn't in trouble” rota. A “make sure she's fed and washed” rota.'

Hope looked doubtful. ‘That doesn't sound very practical to me. You've got your hands full…and it's not as if you're right on the doorstep.'

‘I know, I know,' said Anna impatiently. ‘I've decided to delegate.'

Hope frowned. She suspected she wasn't going to like the sound of this. ‘How, exactly?'

‘Well, I can pop over every other afternoon and spend an hour with you before I pick up Sam and Nathan from nursery school, and on alternate days you can get a taxi up to our place, so there's no possibility of you being lonely. Adam will come in every morning to check you didn't die in the night, and the Wilsons will be around the farm all day—so if you scream loud enough they'll be bound to hear…'

‘I'm not helpless.' Hope had to smile at Anna's enthusiasm.

‘I know that, but it's Mum we have to convince. As I was saying, you can promise to carry the mobile with you everywhere, and Alex will pop in every night.'

‘What?'

‘Hush, you'll wake Henry,' Anna said reproachfully. She glanced quickly at her son to satisfy herself he was still asleep. ‘Cherub,' she said fondly, before turning her attention back to her sister. ‘Alex has kindly agreed to look in every night. I'd get Adam to do it, but to be honest I need him myself just now.'

‘You're mad if you think Alex Matheson will play nursemaid.'

This had to be a nightmare! She had to do some quick talking. If Anna got her way—her mind refused to explore this humiliating avenue.

She couldn't tell Anna the truth. Anna didn't know the meaning of subtlety, and she was quite capable of marching up to Alex and demanding he explain himself. It was hard enough coping with things as it was—what with her moods dramatically veering from brave optimism to maudlin self-pity. If he
knew!
Hope shuddered at the thought.

‘Hardly nursemaid. Anyway,' Anna said with a triumphant smile, ‘he was delighted. Well, he didn't say no anyhow. He's got lovely manners.'

‘He's managed to hide them from me.'

‘Don't tell me you've had a lovers' tiff?' Anna said in an exasperated tone. ‘That explains it.'

‘Explains it?' Hope said sharply. ‘What do you mean, lovers? Has Adam been talking?'

‘Adam? You mean he knows? Isn't that just like him,' Anna said, reflecting with a frown on her husband's shortcomings. ‘He didn't say a word. Wait till I see him! No, I merely put two and two together. I know you were with Alex at the wedding, because at least three people told me, and you were at his factory when you had your accident. So, unless you've developed an interest in the manufacture of cars… I put two and two together—because you didn't choose to confide in me.'

‘There's nothing to confide.'

‘Just a string of coincidences—I know. The fact is, Alex dropping in every night will be the clincher with Mum. The farm is pretty isolated. After I pointed out that it was his fault you're in this mess to begin with—'

‘Anna, you didn't!' Hope groaned.

‘Well, it was his hole you fell down, wasn't it?' her sister replied, with an innocent smile that didn't fool
Hope for an instant. ‘I didn't think you'd have any objections about him tucking you in at night,' she observed with a frankly wicked smile. ‘I tell you something, Hope, you're a big improvement on the one he brought to our place the other month.'

Hope was instantly diverted. ‘Who would that be?' She managed casual interest quite brilliantly. Nobody watching her would have guessed the degree of jealousy this information had given rise to.

‘I think she's a banker. I've never seen a banker that looks like her.'

‘That's sexist, Anna.'

‘No, just spiteful.'

‘She's
very
good-looking, then?' Why did I ask? I must have a masochistic streak a mile wide, Hope thought helplessly.

Anna sniffed. ‘Too thin,' she replied, wrinkling her nose. ‘Looked like she lived on her nerves. Jumped like a cat every time you spoke to her. Anyhow, she's yesterday's news, isn't she?'

‘For God's sake, Anna, don't go around telling people that Alex and I are…are…'

‘An item?'

‘Definitely not,' Hope said firmly. ‘He thinks I'm a bimbo.' She was too harassed to come up with anything but the truth.

‘You!' Anna burst out laughing. ‘Don't be silly.'

Hope could have wept with frustration. ‘Seriously.'

Anna stopped laughing and frowned. ‘The idiot!' she exclaimed indignantly. ‘Wait till I—'

‘No!' Hope interrupted firmly. ‘You will not, and I repeat,
not
interfere, Anna.'

Anna's dark eyes searched her sister's face, and what she saw there made her expression grow sober. ‘He's made you unhappy? That's it, then. Plan cancelled.'

‘I did it.'

Both sisters looked up as Adam Deacon entered the room. He looked pleased with himself.

‘You did what?' his wife asked suspiciously.

‘Persuaded Beth that she could go on the cruise with a clear conscience. I managed to soothe her every fear,' he observed with modest pride. ‘Though I think the fact that Alex is going to play guard dog at night really clinched it. I can see her point—you really are a bit off the beaten track here, and he's only two minutes away by car. You should have seen her face. She's so excited, and already planning the packing with military precision.'

‘Oh, Adam, how could you?' Anna reproached him.

‘What do you mean, how could I?' he said incredulously. ‘I didn't volunteer. The way I recall it
you
were the one who said we should take advantage of the fact I'm a smooth talker.'

‘That was before,' Anna responded crossly.

‘Before what?'

‘Don't start, you two,' Hope said forcefully. ‘It's done now.' She wasn't about to come between her parents and their dream holiday again. ‘I'll come to some sort of understanding with Alex. I'm sure he'll realise there's no need to come here personally every night. I'll ring him.' Yes, she thought with satisfaction. A telephone call would do very nicely. ‘Better still, I'll ring you, Anna.'

‘I think you're underestimating your sister's powers of persuasion,' said Adam. ‘I should think by this point Alex is convinced he personally threw you down the bloody hole. Anna did rather lay it on thick. Anyhow, what's the problem with Alex dropping in here for a few minutes each night?'

‘He thinks Hope's a bimbo. I think you should—'

‘Hold it there,' Adam replied noting with alarm the determined expression on his wife's face. ‘I've told you before, Anna, it's not a good idea to get involved with your sisters' love lives.'

‘But Alex is your friend…'

‘I'd like it to stay that way.'

‘Will you two stop discussing me as though I'm not here? I'm quite capable of sorting out my own problems.'

‘Exactly,' said Adam. His wife looked less than convinced, but to Hope's relief she didn't contradict him. She'd just have to rely on Adam's influence on Anna.

 

A week later, as she sat staring nervously at the clock on the mantel, Hope didn't feel quite as capable of coping with the bizarre situation she'd been forced into. But she had the speech worked out. She'd be polite, but firm.

There's absolutely no need for you to come here again, Alex. Yes, that hit just the right note—confident but not aggressive.

It was eight-thirty, and it was snowing. Fred Wilson, their nearest neighbour, who was looking after the farm while her parents were away, had kindly stacked a fresh pile of logs in the hearth of the inglenook. There was a glass of red wine at her elbow, the smell of the casserole her mother had left was permeating the house and she had a good book. She
ought
to be feeling relaxed. Instead she was jumping at every creak and groan.

She'd knocked thirty seconds off her time getting to the door. She had to dispel any illusion of helplessness that might be lingering in Alex's mind, and these little details were all-important.

I don't know what I'm worrying about; he'll probably be relieved that I don't need him. Not need him? She gave a deep sigh. If only that were true. Come clean,
Hope, she told herself, you're really afraid that the moment you see him all those admirable principles of yours will go sailing out of the window. If he tries to make love to you again you might just take what he's offering, even though it isn't nearly enough.

I'm pathetic and feeble, she thought, frowning with self-disgust. What if he thinks I engineered this, put Anna up to it?

This novel idea made her sit bolt-upright. The dimly lit room suddenly took on an entirely different aspect. Seen through his eyes the log fire, subdued light and soft music might take on an entirely more sinister slant. What if, horror of horrors, he thought this was all part of the seduction process?

She pulled herself hurriedly to her feet and hitched her crutches under her arms. The music could go for a start, and she needed light—lots more light!

Her shriek would have done justice to a banshee.

Of course she shrieked. Anyone would if they came into contact with a solid chest of large proportions in a house that ought to contain nobody but herself.

‘For crying out loud, woman, you nearly gave me heart failure!' Alex took her by the shoulders and regarded her as if she was mad.

‘You!'
she spluttered indignantly. ‘What about me? What do you think you're doing, skulking about? How exactly did you get in?' Her indignation at having her set piece ruined was growing by the second.

‘Get in? A key, of course. The one your mother gave me. My God, you're still shaking. Anna said you were nervous about being alone out here, but I thought she was exaggerating.'

‘She didn't tell me she'd given you a key,' said Hope, nursing a strong sense of injustice. With a family like
mine, who needs enemies? she reflected bitterly. ‘And I'm not nervous! You startled me, that's all.'

‘I had no idea you were so highly strung.' She could detect a hint of criticism in his tone.

‘I'm not a horse, and neither am I of a nervous disposition. I wasn't expecting to walk into…' Her eyes rested momentarily on the breadth of his shoulders, clad in the ankle-length waxed coat he wore. ‘An obelisk in my sitting room. You might have knocked.'

‘I did, several times, but you must have been entranced by the music.' The lines around his eyes deepened as a scornful expression flickered into his eyes. ‘Do you
like
that sort of thing?' he asked as the soulful ballad continued to unfold to his unappreciative ears.

Just as well I wasn't setting a seduction scene, Hope thought with an ironic smile. ‘Actually, yes. What's your style, Alex? Don't tell me you're an ageing head-banger?' she mocked gently.

‘I'm more classically inclined myself, and if I'm feeling romantic a nice slice of Puccini usually fits the bill. But in the context of our relationship I don't suppose that's relevant.'

It wasn't easy to break the hold of those challenging grey eyes. There was something menacingly attractive about his stare. ‘Very true, but it does surprise me you ever feel
romantically
inclined. You reduce everything down to its lowest common denominator.' Was that honesty or just a fear of deeper involvement? The puzzle brought a small furrow to her smooth brow.

‘And that offends you?'

‘It's irrelevant to me,' she said grandly. ‘And if you don't mind I'm quite capable of standing without assistance.' She looked pointedly at his big hands. The usual thing happened and a wave of aching helplessness washed over her. She was ready for it and she hardly
even swayed. ‘By the way, you're steaming,' she observed prosaically. She'd die of humiliation if he guessed how she was feeling.

‘So I am.' He let her go and began to shrug off the big coat from which the moisture was visibly evaporating before the roaring fire. He shook his head and a myriad of tiny droplets spun from his hair. Some landed on Hope's skin—tiny, icy specks of moisture. ‘It's snowing heavily.'

BOOK: An Innocent Affair
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