Betrayal (11 page)

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Authors: Margaret Bingley

BOOK: Betrayal
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'If I've offended you, I apologise. You're very defensive, aren't you?'

'Only when I feel threatened.'

'You mean you feel threatened by me?'

'Not physically, but I get the feeling that you could take me over if I wasn't careful. Swallow me up so that I became nothing more than a part of you. It would be terribly easy to lose my own identity at the moment, and you make it even easier.'

'Nonsense!' He was secretly amazed at her perceptiveness. 'Perhaps, but it seems true to me.'

He moved over to her again, putting both arms round her waist. 'Why don't you relax a little? Make yourself comfortable.'

'I'll make myself comfortable once I get home. Please let go of me, Neal. I feel trapped in the back of this car.'

He released her at once and sat drumming his fingers on his knees until they reached her house. 'Wait here for Mrs Grant,' he instructed Mike, who touched his cap in acknowledgement and looked out of his window to conceal his amusement.

'Everything all right?' asked Lisa, rushing into the living room and looking anxiously at the sleeping Jessica.

'She was as good as gold,' responded Miranda, deciding not to mention that she'd never had so much trouble getting a baby to drink from a bottle before. The child didn't seem to have a clue about the teat and ended up nearly upside down before she started sucking.

'Mike will run you home,' said Neal swiftly. 'He'll come back for me later. I'm sure your family needs you.'

Left alone with him, Lisa stood in the middle of the room and looked Neal straight in the eye. 'You might as well have gone with her. I'm exhausted.'

'I thought we'd have a nightcap. I know there's some brandy in the cabinet. I put it there when you were still in hospital, for medicinal purposes naturally!'

'I don't want any but help yourself. You bought it so you can drink it.'

'Aren't you going to sit down?'

'All right.' She sat opposite him on one of the easy chairs. 'Come and sit next to me.'

'I'm quite comfortable here, thank you.'

'This is silly. We've had a pleasant evening, surely you can bring yourself to sit beside me for ten minutes or so?'

Knowing that she was being both ungrateful and rude, Lisa tried to conquer the terrible sick feeling in her stomach and walked slowly over to sit beside him. When he slid an arm behind her and began to kiss the side of her neck she wanted to scream and pull away but gritted her teeth and sat perfectly still.

'I can tell you're enjoying this!' he said after a few moments, and turned her face towards him. 'I'm not Toby,' he said slowly, 'and I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to. Now, please, just relax.'

'When people tell me to relax it makes me even more tense. Do you think I enjoy feeling like this?'

'No, but give yourself a chance. Surely a goodnight kiss isn't too much to ask?'

'I'm sorry, I just don't… '

Neal Gueras wasn't a patient man and he wasn't used to being held off. Despite his initial good intentions he found that sitting next to her, with her slender body close to his and her perfume drifting up to him, he simply couldn't wait. He had to kiss her, and so he gripped her tightly by the shoulders, turned her body towards him and covered her mouth with his.

She instinctively went rigid, closing her lips against his tongue and pulling away, trying desperately to free herself. Images of Roger and Toby flashed through her mind, and she remembered how Toby would hold her by the shoulders before forcing her down on to the bed and doing things that he knew she hated for the sheer pleasure of hearing her scream.

Because he wasn't Toby, Neal had left her arms free and was totally unprepared when she slipped off one of her navy pumps and began hitting him round the head and shoulders with it.

'What the bloody hell… ?' he shouted, pushing her away and leaping to his feet. Then, looking down, he saw her crumpled up and sobbing uncontrollably, still clutching the shoe tightly in her right hand.

He sighed and turned away, knowing that it was his fault and he'd only made things worse. Lisa continued to cry, and the sound of her sobs woke Jessica who decided to join in so that when Mike tapped discreetly on the front door, Neal was highly relieved to see him.

'Carry that child upstairs and put it in the cot next to the bed,' he instructed. Mike, after one quick glance at the rumpled, tear-stained Lisa, did as he was told.

Neal sat down carefully next to her and gently removed the shoe from her hand. 'It's all right,' he said quietly. 'That was my fault and I'm sorry. I'm going to get a doctor to come and see you. He'll help you get over everything you've been through these past months. You won't mind that, will you?' She shrugged. All that she wanted was to be left alone, which was totally unrealistic, so she forced herself to shake her head.

'Good girl! I'll be off now but I'll ring in the morning. Have a long lie-in if you can. And, Lisa… '

She glanced up at him. 'Yes?' 'I'm sorry.'

She bit her bottom lip. 'It's my fault. I'm the one who should be apologising. It was only that… '

'I do understand. Now go upstairs and get some rest. Have you any sleeping pills?'

'One or two.'

'Then take one. Goodnight.'

She didn't answer but when Mike came downstairs she raised her head. 'Have you ever seen a crying fish before?' she asked wryly.

'There's always a first time. Actually, I'm fully expecting to find a tearful fisherman waiting out there!'

Despite her misery she couldn't suppress a smile at the thought, and then Mike gave one of his quick winks and hurried off into the night.

'Where's Kay tonight?' snapped Neal as the car started up. 'In the flat, sir.'

'Take me there.'

God help her if she didn't come up to the mark, thought Mike as they sped through the night. She was obviously going to be rather busy for her final few weeks, until Lisa capitulated. He wondered how she felt about it all, or if she even realised what was happening.

Chapter Eight

Kay was lying on top of the king-size bed pretending to read her book but in reality trying to think where she'd gone wrong. She thought she'd been the perfect mistress: never making a fuss when left alone for Christmas and Neal's long summer break, never running down Naomi but always willing to listen when Neal complained about her; and above all always being available to do whatever he wanted, whenever he chose.

For ten years now she'd been by his side. There'd been other women, she knew and understood that, but she was the one who appeared on his arm in public. She was the 'old friend' who stood in for his missing wife at public functions. But not for much longer.

Nothing had been said, nothing needed to be said. She knew because he rarely took her out any more. She was gradually slipping out of the social round. At the moment friends still rang her; she attended coffee mornings with other women and sat on the committee for underprivileged children, but eventually that too would stop.

It was hard for her to face up to it because over the years she'd made the mistake of falling in love with Neal Gueras. At first she'd found him different—exciting and powerful, but that was all. He'd enabled her to keep up the lifestyle she'd been used to prior to her father's death when crippling taxation depleted the family fortune, and that had been enough for her.

He was sexually demanding but did not go in for any show of affection. His manner could vary from punctiliously polite to gutter-born crudeness which shocked and occasionally frightened her. Also, he never said he loved her. She didn't know when her feelings had changed. Perhaps it was after she lost their love-child. He'd been so supportive and understanding then. Even her spell of depression that seemed to last forever, he tolerated with unusual gentleness.

Yes, it was probably then that she started to love him, which made this particular turning point in her life extraordinarily difficult because she no longer had anyone of her own to turn to.

Her mother was dead now, her only sister married and living in Australia, while her friends were solely mutual friends. Neal had carefully weaned her away from the people she'd known from childhood and she wondered where she'd go when he finally turned her out of his London flat.

Perhaps he'd give her a little place of her own, she thought optimistically. After all, she did know rather a lot about him, and he wouldn't want her talking about the things she'd learnt. Not that she ever would, but he might be afraid to leave her homeless.

She shook her head. He'd never do such a thing; she was being unnecessarily morbid. Neal would look after her. It was in his own interest as well as hers, and in any case she hoped that in his own way he was still fond of her.

All at once there was the sound of his key in the door and his footsteps on the stairs. He'd made it plain he was unlikely to be calling tonight, and this change in plans lifted her spirits. She looked up at him, smiling warmly. 'How nice, you changed your mind!'

He didn't return the smile 'Where did you get that negligee set?' he asked quietly.

She frowned, puzzled by the question. 'It was part of the last Paris collection. Don't you remember? You particularly liked… '

'Of course, the Paris collection. It was very expensive as I recall.' She felt uneasy. Neal never discussed money; had never cared how much she spent or where as long as she did him credit. 'I suppose so.'

'Then I suggest that you start earning it,' he said curtly. 'Earning it?'

'Please don't turn coy about our relationship, Kay. Everyone knows exactly how you earn all the clothes you wear so appropriately on your back!' And he laughed unpleasantly.

'I'm sure no one… '

'I didn't come here for a discussion, I came here for sexual satisfaction. Now provide it.'

Kay sat up and wrapped her arms round her knees to try and stop herself from trembling. He was a stranger. Nothing in their time together had prepared her for this and she didn't know what to do. 'Come along,' he said irritably. 'Even the £50 a time girls know how to get started, and God knows every fuck we've ever had has cost me a bloody sight more than that!'

'Don't!' she cried in anguish. 'Please don't talk about us like that.'

'I'll talk how I like. It might help if one of us removed our clothes.'

'You've still got your coat on,' she said stupidly. He took it off and threw it on the nearest chair.

'Better? Feeling more liberated now?'

'I don't know what you want me to do.'

'Bake me a cake! Just remove that stupid nightgown before I tear it off.'

She got up from the bed and eased the shoulder straps down her arms but the silken material clung too tightly for her to slip the gown over her hips and she had to lift it over her head instead. When she was finally naked he was looking at her with amused tolerance.

'Not a very professional performance! Fortunately I'm not in need of too much visual stimulation.' She moved back towards the bed but he stopped her with a quick movement of the hand, and she waited warily as he took off his own clothes and walked towards her.

He put out a hand and ran it round the circumference of her left breast. 'Not quite as firm as a few years ago, is it, Kay? Never mind, we're all growing older and I expect it still feels good. Does it still feel good, Kay?'

She nodded, too frightened to speak.

'I'm glad. I'd hate to feel you were always putting on a performance for me. I believe in total honesty in relationships, it's by far the best way.' As he talked he was running his hands all over her, resting them lightly on her hips before moving lower to grasp her by the buttocks and pull her closer to him.

Now he bent his head and nibbled lightly at the hollow at the base of her throat while his fingers worked their way between her thighs until she was soaking wet and moaning with anticipation. All at once he lifted her off her feet and then pulled her down on top of him, thrusting fiercely into her while still standing so that she had to clasp her legs round his waist while he turned until she could see herself in the floor-length mirror by the window.

He moved her up and down on him, slowly at first but then faster, and she could see her distorted face, her mouth opening as she gasped with shock and pleasure and then—just as she was on the verge of climaxing—he lifted her clear of his body, threw her face down on the bed and entered her from behind, lifting her hips high off the bed so that he could penetrate as deeply as possible.

The violence of his movements pushed her up the bed until she came to a stop against the pillows, and now she was screaming at the waves of pleasure washing over her and this time as she climaxed he did too and she felt him shuddering above her before he collapsed onto her back.

For a moment they lay in silence and then he rolled away and swung himself off the bed. 'Good?' he asked casually.

She looked at him. He seemed perfectly normal, there was no sign of the strange mood he'd been in when he arrived. 'Fantastic!' she murmured. 'Better than ever.'

'I'm glad. Aren't you going to take a shower?' ‘Not yet.'

'I'd like you to take a shower.' 'What's the matter with you tonight?'

'Just do as I ask,' he said coldly. After she'd gone he looked at himself in the mirror and hated what he saw. How could he have come here and made love to Kay when all the time he was picturing Lisa? It was a sign of weakness in him, and as such he'd eradicate it in the only practical way. If Kay weren't here then he wouldn't be tempted, so Kay must go a little earlier then he'd anticipated.

She came back a few minutes later and found her cases on top of the bed. 'Pack your things,' he instructed. 'We're finished. It's over.'

'You can't mean it; not after what we've just done!' 'That was a farewell gift to you. Now I want you to go.'

'Where on earth can I go at six in the morning with five suitcases and no money of my own?'

'You've got money. I've been paying you an allowance for years, and to the best of my knowledge you've never used any of it.'

'But… '

'It's all arranged,' he continued smoothly, seeing the desperation on her face. 'You can stay at the cottage for a few weeks until we sort things out. I'm not unreasonable, you know.'

'You can't afford to be!' she said bitterly. 'Not after the things I've learnt about you.'

The look in his eyes told her only too clearly that she'd made a terrible mistake. 'I didn't mean that,' she said quickly. 'I was only joking, I… '

'Of course you were. Excuse me a moment.' Abruptly he left the room. Kay looked at the cases, most of them empty, and shivered. She thought of making a run for it, but there was only one way out of the flat and that was through the dining-room where Neal was using the phone. He wasn't gone long and when he returned his smile told her better than any words that money wouldn't matter to her any more.

'Please don't hurt me!' she screamed, hurling herself at him and trying to hide her face in his chest. He pushed her off and pulled on a polo-necked cashmere sweater. 'I've no intention of hurting you. I employ other people to do that kind of thing.'

'I swear I'll never tell anyone anything. I'll go abroad. I can always begin again out there. Suppose I go to… ' The door opened, and when she looked up Kay's last hope died within her.

'Bishop, Kay hasn’t finished packing but I don’t think that matters. She wants a little break, somewhere to pull herself together and work out her future. I don't mind if you take her to your little place in Norfolk for a few days, as long as I'm not required to see her again.'

'No!’' screamed Kay, totally hysterical at the thought. 'For God's sake, don't let him near me. What have I done to deserve Bishop?'

'You threatened me,' he said softly. 'That was a terrible mistake. Get her out of here, Bishop, and make sure no one sees you. I'll get one of the others to dispose of her belongings.'

As Bishop put a hand over Kay's mouth to muffle her screams she looked back despairingly at the man who'd been her lover and protector for the past ten years, and he looked back at her with total disinterest. For all the emotion on his face she might have been a complete stranger.

Three months later her mutilated body was washed up on the French coast. She was finally identified by a cousin twice removed. He told the authorities that she'd been determined to take her new boat across the Channel on her own, despite his warnings. The boat was found the following day and the cousin twice-removed returned to Scotland a wealthier man, who was fortunately far wiser than the unfortunate Kay.

It was Neal's first mistake. This perfect murder was to cost him a great deal of money.

Six months later he sat behind his heavy oak desk and looked enquiringly at the bespectacled man opposite him. 'How's the patient, Mr Oakleigh?'

Lewis Oakleigh, a top psychologist at one of the main London teaching hospitals whose unfortunate weakness for under-age girls had brought him into contact with Neal, moistened dry lips and cleared his throat. 'She's much better,' he said reassuringly.

'Perhaps you wouldn't mind going into a little more detail. Would you say she's ready for a proper relationship yet?'

'Given the right circumstances, the right approach, and naturally the right man, I'd say yes.'

Neal smiled pleasantly. 'You're quite certain? You don't want to hedge your bets even more?'

'It isn't a question of hedging my bets. She's been badly damaged emotionally from an early age. The incident with her husband was the final straw. At only seven years of age she underwent the trauma of discovering… I want that woman, and I've been paying you a small fortune to make sure she's ready for me. Are you trying to say you've failed? That you need even more time to cure her? '

'I've done everything I can. It isn't like treating measles or a broken leg, you know.'

'Is she cured?' snapped Neal.

'She'll never be cured because we can't erase all her past life. Like the rest of us, she's the product of her experiences. What I can say is that she's now as ready as possible to embark on new relationships with men. In point of fact she shows no great desire to do so, but… ' 'I think you can safely leave me to arouse the necessary desire, Lewis. Your opinion in the case of any female over the age of fourteen is not, I would have thought, altogether reliable.'

Oakleigh flushed and once again wished he'd never been stupid enough to let these people find out. It meant he was constantly at their beck and call, accumulating knowledge that made it impossible for them to let him go. He was also acutely aware of the fact that should he ever refuse their work, or—as in the case of Lisa Walker—not make a totally satisfactory job of it, then they would remove him without conscience or hesitation. His stomach churned. 'I've done my best. You could always ask for a second opinion.'

'Totally unnecessary; I know you've done your best. I can see a difference in her already. Here's a cheque for the final month. We'll consider her cured as from today!'

'She'll never be cured, that's the whole point of my report!' 'As far as you're concerned, she's cured, Lewis.'

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