Deceit (9 page)

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Authors: Fayrene Preston

BOOK: Deceit
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She looked up at Richard and saw him watching her intently.

“Where were you just then?”

The question, gently asked, almost took her off guard. Almost. “Nowhere.”

He cocked his head to the other side as if viewing her from another angle might show him something he hadn’t seen before. “I’ve missed you. ”

An incredulous look spread across her face. “Missed me? You mean you’ve missed taunting me.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he said. What gentleness there had been in his tone was gone now. He moved closer, his body pushing her back against the car. “It hasn’t been all taunting, has it? I mean I have followed through once or twice. And by the way, there’s something you should know. Up to now it has been merely a warm-up.”

She felt his arousal press into her, and heat flared low in her stomach. “For God sakes, Richard, we’re in the middle of a parking lot!”

“We could go to your room if you like. Or mine. Or that garden over there.”

She pushed against him. “I’ve already told you that I’m on my way into town.”

“You could change your mind. You've done it in the past.”

“Leave me alone, Richard.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. Only the fact that I’ve been so busy has kept me from coming to your room.”

An unwanted excitement sprang to life in her. “Dammit, Richard—”

“One morning I found myself outside your room at four a
.
m
.”
The desire in his voice stoked the fire growing inside her. “You'll never know how close I came to bribing someone to open your door for me.”

“The staff here is too well trained,” she said, a tinge of desperation in her tone. “They wouldn’t have accepted a bribe.”

“For the amount of money I was willing to pay, Liana,
someone
would have accepted. You see, I wanted you very badly that night, as badly as I want you now.”

She stifled a moan. “I’ve got to go.”

“There’s no need to run,” he said, his voice husky, his lower body rubbing against hers. “Our going to bed together would involve only pleasure this time, There would be none of those sticky, complicated emotions that got in the way before.” She couldn’t look away from him. He was hard, heartless, and bitter, and at the same time, he radiated a masculinity and a magnetism that absolutely undid her. And always, swirled between these two realities like the icing between two layers of cake, her memories of him as he had been in Paris seduced her. She should guard herself against him, and Lord knows she had tried . . .

She loved him. It was at that moment as she gazed up at him that she knew. Dear heaven, she
loved
him!

The thought sent terror clear through to her bones. She shoved him away and wrenched open the door. Quickly she slid into the car, pulled the door closed, and started the engine.

Richard remained where he was, disturbed because she had gotten away from him before he was ready to let her go and vaguely troubled because he couldn’t entirely explain her abrupt behavior. There had been an expression on her face—

In the next moment, he instinctively jumped to the side as her car hurtled past him, though the car hadn’t been aimed at him. With increasing speed and squealing tires, she drove out of the parking lot and down the long drive.

Richard’s gaze remained on Liana’s car as it receded into the distance, and he didn’t notice that a man had walked up to him until he spoke.

“Was that Liana Marchall who just drove out of here like a bat out of hell?”

Tense and worried, Richard snarled at him. “Yeah, why?”

The man’s brows lifted in mild reaction. “No reason. It’s just that I hope she’s not going to be driving like that all the way into town, that's all.” 

“Why?”

“I just came from that direction. Apparently a construction truck lost part of its load. There’s sill kinds of junk—nails, boards, cinderblocks—strewn over the road for about a quarter of a mile.” 

“Damn!” Richard was nearly to his car when he thought to yell over his shoulders, “Thanks for the information.”

She knew she was driving too fast, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care enough to slow down. She was too keyed up, too disturbed, and she lay the blame solely at Richard’s feet. She couldn’t look at him without things happening inside her.

Needs. Fears. Wants. Guilts. Passion.

She had been in a constant state of mental confusion and emotional turmoil for days now.

A field stretched to her right, and on the other side of the road, a cliff dropped some distance to the rocks and ocean below it. The wind had her hair flying about her head and into her face and eyes. Impatiently she brushed at her face and was vaguely surprised to find her fingertips come away dampened with tears. She choked back a sob.

She felt as if she were fighting a losing battle. Every time she saw Richard, she had the urge to go into his arms and have him hold her forever. Then in the next minute, she would want to run as far as possible from him. By turns she would have to fight the urge to beg his forgiveness, and bite her tongue to keep from telling him to go to hell.

Now she realized she was in love with him, in fact had never stopped loving him.

Oh, Lord, it all seemed so futile. What was she going to do?

She had driven over the debris before she realized it. The steering wheel jerked in her hands. Then she heard the slap of the rubber of her left front tire
—whop whop whop
—as it hit the asphalt.

The car veered out of control and into the left lane. Adrenaline surged in her veins. Frantically she jammed her foot against the brake pedal. The car went into a slide, turning sideways, skidding toward the edge of the cliff.

Just catching up to her, Richard went cold with fear as he saw what was happening. Even worse for him, there was absolutely nothing he could do to help her. To his horrified eyes, her car seemed to move in slow motion. It floated across the road and onto the gravel surface of the road’s shoulder as it headed smoothly, yet with deadly certainty, toward the cliffs edge.

The car came to a stop. Liana’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut and stayed shut until she felt sure the car wouldn’t move again.

When she finally opened them, she looked out over the hood of her car and saw nothing but sky and open space. Very carefully, she drew in a deep breath. She glanced out her right window. Following the line drawn by the cliffs edge, she judged that all four tires were on solid ground. With an exclamation, she dropped her forehead,to the steering wheel.

Richard jerked the passenger door open and hauled her out of the car. “Dear God, Liana! Are you hurt?”

“No.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you.”

A wave of dizziness washed over her. “You’re really going to have to stop doing that.”

His hard gaze took in her ashen face and her eyes filled with shock. The idea that she’d been frightened, that she’d nearly gone off that cliff, made him absolutely crazy. “It’s a damned good thing I did follow you.”

“Why?” She looked at him again, still puzzling over why he was here. “You didn’t do anything to help.”

That she was right made him all the more angry. “You crazy fool! What were you trying to do? Kill yourself?”

“No, Richard, I’m sure I can leave that to you.” She congratulated herself on her quick comeback.

“You damn sure can if you pull this kind of a stunt again.”

A wave of nausea came and went. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good answer after all. “One of my tires went flat.”

“No kidding.” He uttered a curse and pulled her against him. “Dammit, Liana, you’re shaking.” She hadn’t noticed. And now all she could focus on was the heat engendered by being in his arms. For the moment, she allowed herself the heat. She needed it.

He waited until he could feel the tremors in her body subside, then gently cupped her jaw and tilted her face up so that he could study it. “Are you really all right?”

“Yes.” Moistening her dry lips with a sweep of her tongue, she stepped out of his grasp. “Thank you.”

Staring at her in the growing darkness, he searched for some sign of what she was feeling. But it was like a beautiful curtain had come down over her, concealing all emotion. Recalling those terrifying seconds when he had watched her car skid out of control toward the cliff, he had the strangest urge to shake her. He couldn’t remember ever being as scared as he had been at that moment. On some level, he was still scared.
He
had to take some action.

He strode toward the car, reached in the open door and wrenched the keys from the ignition. “What are you doing?” she asked.

He slammed the door shut and locked it. “We’ll leave it here. Ill send someone from the hotel to change the tire and drive it back.”

“I can change the tire,” she said, the protest automatic.

“So can I, Liana, but I’m not going to and neither are you.” He grasped her arm and forcefully helped her into the passenger seat of his car.

From her point of view, it wasn’t a second too soon—her strength had just deserted her.

Music drifted out the opened window of the main salon, rose like warm, soft air, and entered Richard’s bedroom through his open balcony doors. He glanced at the bedside clock. Ten-thirty. After-dinner drinks were being served downstairs. People were laughing, dancing, enjoying themselves, but he wasn’t tempted to join them.

Nerves were layered on top of nerves. Muscles were coiled to the point of pain. He craved something, but he didn’t know what.

Liana was just down the hall.

He gnawed on a thumbnail, restless, unable to relax. He’d notified the sheriffs department of the litter on the road and had received reassurances that the matter would be taken care of. He’d also made arrangements for Liana’s rental car to be driven back to the hotel.

He rubbed his bare chest and threw a discontented stare around the room. For once, there were no company fires he had to put out, no messages from frantic executives to be answered. Earlier in the day, he had even sent Margaret back to New York. He spied his briefcase sitting on the desk and thought of the papers it held. He was halfway across the room before he stopped himself. Generating work
wasn’t
what he wanted to do tonight.

He grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe and slipped it on. Without bothering with the buttons, he headed out of his room and down the hall. He didn’t have far to walk. At room thirty-three, he stopped. In a last-ditch effort to force reason on himself, he stared at the numbers.

Thirty-three. Thirty-three. Thirty-three.

Hell! This deliberation was doing no good. His mind was already made up and had been for some time.

A few moments after he knocked, Liana opened the door. From the looks of her, she had just come out of a bath. The hem of her teal-blue satin robe brushed her upper thigh. A matching ribbon held the pale blond mass of hair on top of her head. Silky baby tendrils curled along her hairline, the ends of the ribbon trailed to her shoulder. Her skin was flushed and glowing.

She appeared soft and sensual with a touching vulnerability. Every man’s dream. And his very own personal nightmare. Heaven help him.

Without waiting for an invitation, he walked into the room. “I thought I should check on you.”

“Why?” she asked, slightly breathless. She hadn’t expected to see him again tonight, but now that he was here, so extraordinarily sexy in hip-molding black slacks and opened gray shirt, she knew she had hoped he would come. But this wasn’t a good situation. Just by entering her room, he had charged the air with danger and excitement.

“Chalk it up to my being bored as hell. Or to the fact that you nearly died today, and I thought looking in on you might be the thing to do.”

“That’s nice of you, Richard, but not at all necessary.” She saw his eyes lower to her breasts, and to her horror realized her nipples had hardened at the sight of him.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, a slight thickness entering his voice.

Nervously she tightened the belt of her robe, then immediately regretted the action. Her aroused state was even more apparent with the satin stretched across her breasts. She clamped down on her emotions. “I’m not hungry.”

“I am, but not for food.”

Warmth suffused her, and to her chagrin, color came up under her skin.

“Invite me to sit down, Liana.”

The knowledge that he knew exactly how he was affecting her gave her yet another reason to dig in her heels and resist the temptation to do as he asked. “No.”

He threw a glance over his shoulder at the big four-poster bed. “Then invite me into your bed.” She touched her forehead and found it damp. It was residual moisture from the shower, she assured herself, not perspiration. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Nothing pleasant happens when we spend time together.”

“Ah, now, Liana, I don’t think that’s quite true. Besides which, if it is true, I think it’s time we try to change it.”

His voice had soft, coaxing tones in it, and she felt her body inclining toward the sound and him. She straightened. “Why?”

“Because the memory of what we once had together is there between us.”

She shook her head. “Richard—”

“I’m talking about what we shared in bed. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

If only she could forget! Sometimes she was almost able to convince herself that her mind had played tricks on her and that nothing could possibly be that wonderful. When they had made love, they had rearranged the solar system.

“Sex is not the only memory between us,” she said, her voice softer than she would have wished.

He lifted his hand and reached toward her. She automatically dodged, jerking her head back.

He smiled, waited a heartbeat, and took hold of one end of a satin ribbon. “But like the adults we are, we’ve put all that behind us, haven’t we?”

He was probing, and she should tell him that naturally she had put their past behind her. But there had been so many lies, and suddenly she was incapable of telling him one more—for now at any rate.

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