Old Desires/A Stranger's Kiss (2-in-1 edition) (27 page)

BOOK: Old Desires/A Stranger's Kiss (2-in-1 edition)
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She knew she would have to scream for help and the thought was sobering. The embarrassment would be acute enough in any circumstances, but Adam Blackmore’s disdain would be unbearable. He had warned her. More than once.

Her protests were ignored and Hanna Rashid, having drunk altogether too much champagne tugged roughly at her zip and exposed her breasts to the cool evening air. Now she was really frightened and in a panic lashed out, her nails raking his cheek. He swore, but didn’t loosen his grip. Her struggles served only to excite him further and she opened her mouth. She no longer cared about embarrassment. ‘Adam—’ It came out barely more than a croak. ‘Ad—’

His hand clamped over her mouth. ‘Dieu, Tara. But you are—’ What he thought of her was never to be known. Suddenly his weight was gone and she was left gasping for breath against the cushions.

The sound of a splash and angry stream of gutter French reached her from the pool and then Adam was there, breathing heavily, glaring down at her.

‘Cover yourself up.’ She stared at him, too stunned by the rapid succession of attack and rescue to move. ‘Now!’

Tara struggled against the cushions and with a furious exclamation he reached down and yanked her to her feet and roughly pulled her dress into place, tugging up her zip so carelessly that he caught her flesh. She winced but made no sound. She didn’t think he would be sympathetic to any pain she was suffering.

‘I’m sorry, Adam.’ She was shaking, but he didn’t seem to care.

‘Not half as sorry as you’re going to be.’ He threw a savage glance at Hanna who was climbing from the pool. Then without a word turned and hauled her after him up the steps of the veranda towards the house. Just before they reached the door he stopped so suddenly that they collided and he turned her into his arms. ‘Now, Mrs Lambert, for once in your life do as you are told and co-operate.’ Before she could ask what he meant he was kissing her. Kissing her with all the apparent passionate sincerity of a man bewitched. Only she knew it was all a lie, because once she had been kissed by him when he meant it.

Finally this humiliation was over and he released her.

‘How dare you!’ she breathed, furiously.

‘Please don’t think it gave me any pleasure, but far better, my lady, to have the assembled guests believe you were mussed up by someone you know, than a stranger you chose to flirt with despite all advice to the contrary.’ He was breathing heavily. ‘And this way no one will be surprised by our early departure.’

Tara was conscious of amused and knowing glances as they made their way to the door, Adam apparently determined to stop and bid farewell to every one of his many acquaintances. She bore it with as much grace as she could muster. What was a little embarrassment compared to attempted rape, after all?

Finally, however, he allowed her to escape, dumping her unceremoniously in his car before striding around to the other door. ‘What on earth possessed you?’ he demanded.

‘I just went out for a breath of air. He sort of leapt on me.’

‘And you hadn’t given him any encouragement, I suppose?’ He started the car. ‘My God, if that’s how you led on that poor fool who was chasing you down Victoria Road I’m sorry I didn’t leave you to his mercy. You could do with a lesson in sexual manners.’

She made no attempt to answer. Was too bitterly ashamed of herself to make any attempt to justify herself. She had flirted with Hanna Rashid simply to annoy Adam. But she could hardly tell him that. She sighed.

‘I’m sorry, Adam. Have I completely ruined your business deal?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself. Money means more to Hanna than any woman.’

‘But it will be awkward. You dumped him in the pond.’

‘It was the quickest way I could think of to cool his ardour.’ He scowled at her. ‘And so much less undignified than a brawl.’

‘But—’

‘Don’t fret, Tara. He’ll have showered, changed and be flirting with some other female before we’re back at the villa.’

She bit her lip. ‘Will he?’

He glanced across at her. ‘Yes. He’s quite incorrigible. At least while his wife’s away.’

This was the final straw. ‘He didn’t mention a wife, Adam, I—’

‘Please don’t pretend that it bothers you. I don’t suppose you mentioned your husband, either.’

He pulled into the gates of the villa and Tara moved quickly, anxious to get away from him, get upstairs and out of her now hated scarlet dress.

‘Don’t go, Tara.’ There was something in his voice that suggested disobedience would be foolhardy. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drink. A brandy?’ He didn’t wait for her reply, but poured two glasses and handed one to her. She didn’t want it, but stood holding the glass, waiting to be read the riot act.

But Adam simply took off his jacket, pulled his tie loose and stretched out on a sofa. ‘Come and sit down.’ He patted the seat beside him.

‘I don’t think—’

‘I’m not Hanna Rashid, my lady. I prefer my women to co-operate in their seduction.’ She sat nervously on the edge of the sofa. ‘To be fair to the man he was short of time. He had to move quickly when you presented him with the opportunity.’

‘I didn’t...’

‘That sofa is something else.’

She felt the colour drain from her face. He had clearly witnessed the whole thing. ‘I tried to shout.’

‘Yes. That’s when I thought I’d better intervene. I promise I wouldn’t have interrupted if I had thought you were enjoying yourself.’

‘You... stood by and watched?’

‘It’s tough being a knight errant. Especially when the lady protests she can look after herself.’ He drained his glass. ‘It’s a good job I didn’t actually believe you. But then I do know Hanna of old. He didn’t waste much time on the preliminaries though and that rather took me by surprise.’

Her cheeks flamed. ‘I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me,’ she said, very quietly.

‘No, you haven’t.’

She glanced back at him. He was sitting in the corner of the sofa waiting for something more. ‘Thank you.’ She made a move to stand but he stopped her, taking her glass and placing it on a low table.

‘That’s not enough, Tara.’ His eyes were hooded, concealing their expression, but there was a tenseness about him that boded nothing but trouble. Her emotions were already in turmoil, now sitting so close to him, the scent of him was like a drug, making her skin vibrate, her pulse race. She wanted to run but she knew her legs wouldn’t have carried her to the door.

‘Adam—’ His name was only a breath on her lips.

His eyes never left hers as he took her fingers and raised them to his lips. ‘Yes, Tara?’ But she couldn’t speak, mesmerised by the dark head bent over her arm, his lips gently exploring their way up the inner curve of her elbow, to the hollow of her shoulder. His touch was tender, arousing and he did not need to push her against the cushions. She opened to him like a flower, offering her throat, her eyes, her mouth to his teasing delicate touch.

He outlined her lips with the tip of his tongue and her mouth parted eagerly, drinking in his kiss like a man dying of thirst in the desert.

They were the only two people left in the world and lost to everything but him, she wound her arms about his neck. ‘Love me, Adam,’ she begged.

He raised his head and looked at her for a long, still moment. Then almost regretfully he shook his head.

‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘What—?’

He stood up abruptly and walked across to the drinks table, poured himself another brandy and drank it straight down. Shock held her pinned to the sofa. He turned back to her. ‘That’s it. The lesson is over. You can go now. But the next time you’re tempted to start playing games, just remember how you’re feeling now and have a little pity for your victim.’

It was a moment before she could move. Then she ran. She stumbled on the stairs, but managed to keep moving. Her hand trembled so much on the door knob that she began to think it was locked, then it opened quite suddenly and she fell into the room. Tara slammed the door, turned the key and then ran for the bathroom.

She tore off her clothes, not caring what happened to them and stepped under the shower, scrubbing at herself until she tingled and her skin was pink. But it didn’t take away the feel of his lips on her skin, or the pain.

She dressed in her pink pyjamas. She had always thought they were girlish, but he had said they were irresistible. She wondered what he would do if she went to his room right now.

Resist like hell. He apparently found it easy.

She crawled miserably into bed, but couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even try. She was still trying to decide what on earth she could do to straighten out the mess she had made when the mournful cry of the muezzin from a distant mosque, calling the faithful to prayer, heralded the dawn. The sky lightened in the east and it was time to rise and face the day, however painful it was likely to be.

She pulled on a pair of trousers and a light sweater and ran downstairs. She would have liked to walk, hard and fast, or swim, do anything to burn off the nervous energy that had pumped through her veins all night. All she could do was walk around the garden where she felt caged, shut in.

The man servant brought her a tray of tea and that made her feel a little better. Then she went into the office. Several faxes had arrived during the night and she sorted them and left them on Adam’s desk for his attention.

She checked the diary. Pointless, unnecessary tasks. But there was still no sign of Adam and distanced from the routine of an office she had nothing to do.

She ate breakfast alone. It should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. She considered going up to see if he was all right. He wasn’t the kind of man who lay in bed in the morning. Not by himself, anyway, she thought and then wished she hadn’t.

The telephone rang finally, making her jump, but at least it was something to do.

‘Adam Blackmore’s office,’ she said, with a crispness she was far from feeling.

‘Is that Tara?’ The voice was that of a young woman, gentle, friendly.

‘This is Tara Lambert,’ she confirmed.

‘I’m so glad to speak to you. This is Jane Townsend. Adam’s—’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said, quickly. ‘I’m afraid Adam’s... not here at the moment.’

‘Friday morning, I should have guessed.’ The laughter was indulgent. ‘He always overdoes it at Hanna’s parties.’

‘Does he?’ Was that appalling hurt jealousy? Could she really be jealous that this woman knew how he behaved at parties? She closed her eyes in shame, sure that Jane would hear it in her voice.

But apparently she hadn’t. ‘Watch out for that man, Tara, he’s a menace. But I expect Adam warned you.’ There was such unreserved charm that Tara found herself warming to the owner of the voice, despite every desire to hate her.

‘Yes, he warned me.’ She couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. It was her own fault she hadn’t listened. ‘Can I give Adam a message?’ she asked, somewhat hesitantly.

‘Yes, tell him I hope his hangover is hell.’ She chuckled. ‘And tell him that the clinic have decided to deliver the baby on Monday by Caesarean section.’

Her rush of sympathy was genuine enough. ‘I’m sorry. Are there problems?’

‘They’ve decided the placenta is in the wrong place. I’ve been in and out of hospital for the last few weeks. Not allowed to touch my feet to the ground. It’s been hell.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘Well it’ll soon be over. But I could do with some moral support, if he could manage to get back in time.’ Tara swallowed hard, furious that Jane even had to ask. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get him back in time if he has to swim.’

She shouted with laughter. ‘Priceless. I can’t wait to meet you, Tara.’

Tara hung up and when she turned Adam was standing in the doorway wrapped only in a towelling bathrobe. He looked dreadful. Unshaven, and hung over. If she could have felt any joy at all, it would be in the fact that he felt considerably worse than she did, at least physically.

He rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand and apparently did not much like the result. ‘Who was that on telephone?’

‘It was Jane.’ She gave him the message and he swore softly. ‘Timing never was her strong point. You’d better get us on the next flight out of here.’ Tara turned quickly away. How on earth could he be so unfeeling?

‘What about the meetings organised for tomorrow? Shall I cancel?’

‘No, leave it to me. Get me Rashid on the phone now. And don’t take no for an answer.’ His mouth tightened. ‘The one advantage of last night’s little fiasco is that he will agree to almost anything. All I have to do is mention his wife’s name.’

Her eyes widened in horror. ‘You wouldn’t—’

‘Watch me.’ He frowned at her distress. ‘You don’t owe him any favours, Tara.’

‘I...’

‘Yes?’

Her eyes dropped to her hands, busily shredding a tissue. ‘I was partly to blame. You warned me.’

‘Yes, I did. But you said no. He didn’t like it and considering the way you’d been flirting with him all evening I have some sympathy. But no still means no.’

‘But to blackmail him...’

He made an abrupt move towards her, but stopped as she flinched away. ‘Don’t worry, Tara. All I want to do is speed things up. I shan’t be too unkind. Just rob him of the fun of haggling down to the last cent.’ His mouth twisted in a smile of pure derision. ‘It will be more painful for him than being ducked in a fountain, I can assure you. And it won’t cost him money.’ He rubbed his forehead vigorously with his fingers. ‘Well, not too much. Get Rashid, arrange the flight then bring your book up. I want the agreement in my hand for him to sign the minute he walks through the door.’ He turned in the doorway. ‘And I’d like some coffee if it’s not too much trouble,’ he added, caustically.

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