Engaging the Enemy

by Susanne Bellamy

  The honesty in his face, in his voice, weakened her anger and compelled her to listen.

  ‘What does this building mean to you?’

  When had he moved so close to her? Heat radiated all the way from the tips of her toes to her head. Trapped between his body and the chair, she fought the urge to press into him. She edged away until she backed into the wall.

  ‘A promise is a promise. We were assured the building was ours to create The Shelter but money is more powerful than promises, it seems.’

  ‘So you’re saying your father broke his promise to you by selling me the building when he did?’

  She nodded, the betrayal a huge leaden lump in her heart. What was the point in denying it? With an effort, she searched for her voice. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve done a fine job. And you can get your accreditation on time. It doesn’t have to be in this building. Andie, look at me.’

  Reluctantly, she did so.

  ‘Take the Williamstown property. There’s no weakness in accepting a better offer.’

  Mesmerised by his voice, her resolve weakened. It would be so easy to accept, so easy to let him have his way.

  But is it best for The Shelter?

  ‘Why is it so important that you can’t give us that little extra window of time? Does it really matter if you knock it down next month rather than this month?’

  ‘Knock it down? Now why would you be thinking I’d be knocking it down? Who put that fairy story in your head?’

  ‘You’re not? Then what’s so all fired important?’

  ‘It’s personal.’

  ‘That’s it? You drag my reasons out of me but leave me with it’s personal? That doesn’t cut it with me, Mahoney. Tell me.’

  He sighed softly and reached out to run a knuckle gently down her cheek. ‘Take my word and take the Williamstown property, Trouble, and leave it be.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And then maybe we can explore other more interesting things; like why you blush when you’re near me.’

  ‘Mr Mahoney—’

  He stepped right into her personal space. ‘Matt. Unless you want me to keep calling you “Trouble”?’

  She put a hand on his chest. Too close, way too close. Her hand curled around his lapel. Not close enough.

  With concentrated effort, she uncurled her fingers and flattened her hand, took a deep breath and pushed him back. ‘Mr…Matt. I — uh — I, I think you should go now.’

  ‘But we’re having so much fun. Or we will, if you stop over-thinking everything.’

  ‘I don’t. I’m not. It’s just—’

  His hold on her shoulders tightened and he closed the last inch of space separating them. His breath warmed her cheek. Subtle spice and an indefinable scent that she associated only with Mahoney wrapped around her.

  ‘Just nothing. Why don’t we see where things take us, hey, Trouble?’ His mouth descended. Warm lips kissed the corner of her mouth, brushed lightly across hers. Deep in her womb, an unfamiliar longing throbbed. Mahoney’s full and undivided attention shattered the last of her resistance and she leaned into the kiss. Her lips parted beneath his. Nothing was more important than Mahoney’s mouth on hers, his hands on her bare shoulders. She slid her hands up his shoulders, up the column of his neck and into his hair. She rose onto tip-toe and pushed her hips forward. More.

  An unfamiliar tune sounded from somewhere on his person. Slowly, his mouth lifted from hers and he rested his forehead against hers. ‘I’ll just send that to voice mail.’

  He fished the mobile phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Even as his finger moved to end the call, his frown deepened and the playful air vanished. ‘I have to take this. Look, will you have dinner with me tonight? Please? I’ve another idea about how you might stay in this building if it’s as important to you as you say it is.’

  ‘What? But…’

  He covered the speaker of his phone and pinned her with his dark irises. ‘Andie, just say yes.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘See you at seven. We’ll talk then.’ Swift strides carried him out the door and into the entry. ‘Mick, what’s happening?’ The front door closed on his conversation.

  Cupping her heated cheeks in her hands, she considered what she’d tell Lexie when she returned. After she told her off for leaving her alone to deal with Mahoney.

  Definitely not mentioning the last few minutes.

  Chapter Nine

  Andie twisted her hair up into a loose bun. Turning her back to the mirror, she craned over her shoulder to see the rear view. With a wistful sigh, she let go of her uncontrollable curls and poked her tongue out at her reflection.

  Why bother? It’s not as though I’m Nicole Kidman and irresistible.

  So why had Mahoney invited her to dinner? When he’d phoned after their abruptly terminated discussion, she’d repeated her refusal of his offer of an alternative property. Did he expect to change her mind with his charm and a bottle of wine? Like that was going to happen.

  Dislike was a powerful weapon, proof even against Mahoney’s smooth-talking charm.

  Though not against his sinfully kissable mouth.

  So why am I going?

  Because any chance for The Shelter had to be considered, no matter the risk to her peace of mind. But any weakening on her part and back-up would take the shape of an emergency call to Lexie.

  Where was her phone? She scrabbled through discarded clothes on the bed — and slipped the slim case into her bra. It showed above the scooped neck line of her white dress, never mind the ridiculous bulge between her boobs. Impatiently, she shoved the offending item into her wallet. As she struggled to shut the clasp, the heavy front door knocker rapped three times. Frantically she fought to close the bag, straighten her hair and grab her lipstick at the same time.

  Lexie called up the stairs. ‘Andie, your date’s here.’

  Date? What have I agreed to?

  Her stomach lurched. What would they talk about? Wildly she considered making Lexie tell Mahoney she was sick, or gone to China, the moon, anywhere to avoid sitting across the table and losing herself in his charm.

  And where would that leave the women and children of The Shelter?

  He might be going to make a different offer, one that would allow them to stay, and she’d be a fool to miss the chance. She just had to focus on achieving whatever she could for The Shelter and its survival.

  This dinner’s not about you. Calm down. Focus.

  She drew a deep, calming breath and opened the door.

  Supermodel Serena would make an entrance walking down stairs to greet her date. So Andie imagined herself as the model, gliding elegantly from step to step, shoulders relaxed, head high, face impassive. Mindset helped. She would not be tempted by Mahoney’s Irish charm and he would not change her mind about him.

  She negotiated the final landing and descended from the last step to greet him, polite smile in place. The greeting she’d practised in front of the mirror died on her lips and she stopped, clinging to the curved railing.

  Casually dressed in a black blazer and hip hugging jeans, his broad shoulders were outlined against the back lighting of the entry. And he was her date, this mouth-watering, drop-dead gorgeous man whose intense dark eyes were now fixed on her. From his slim hips and long legs to the vee of tanned skin in his open-necked shirt, the whole charming, alarming package waited.

  For her.

  She aimed for a cool, casual greeting. ‘Umm, hi.’

  Eyes twinkling, his mouth turned up and the boyish smile made him seem younger. ‘Hi. You look lovely, Tro — Andie.’

  Lexie pulled open the front door and held it open. ‘Don’t stay out too late now or I’m going to worry the big bad developer has kidnapped you and is holding you to ransom.’

  Mahoney laughed. ‘Now there’s a thought. What would you pay to get her back?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Nothing?’ Andie couldn’t believe her best friend could be so c
allous. Why, if it were the other way round…

  ‘Nope. Can’t pay a dead man. Hurt her and you’ve me to deal with, and I take no prisoners.’

  Mahoney grinned. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ He turned to take Andie’s elbow. ‘Shall we go?’

  ***

  The yacht rocked gently and the breeze blew strands of hair across her lips. Andie tucked them behind her ear and gazed across the expanse of the bay. Shore lights danced across the calm waters, blazing from the yacht club and silhouetting dozens of bobbing pleasure craft moored in the marina.

  The evening must have cost Mahoney a packet.

  What does he want from me that he’s willing to spend so much on one evening out? It can’t be about anything more than our stand off.

  Except the quizzical expression in his eyes across the dinner table unnerved her. And the prickle of excitement in her stomach every time she met his scrutiny grew in her. She pressed a hand against her stomach. Where was her sense of reality when she needed it?

  Don’t be a sucker, Andie. He’s just trying to charm you to get rid of a problem. It’s nothing personal.

  And yet not a word had been said about the old pub over dinner.

  ‘Penny for them?’

  Startled, she turned round, banging her hip against the railing. ‘What?’

  Without his jacket, his white shirt gleamed beneath the moon and the spill of light from the salon.

  Mahoney leaned on the rail at her side, his refilled glass between them. ‘You’ve a faraway look about you. Have you enjoyed the evening?’

  ‘So far. But I’m wondering why?’

  ‘Why you’ve enjoyed it? Could it be my fascinating self that’s responsible?’

  ‘Banish that twinkle in your eye, Mahoney. You flatter yourself.’

  He chuckled and gave her a wry grin. ‘And here was me thinking I’d been an attentive date.’

  Mahoney had been an attentive companion, pleasant and funny. That wasn’t a description she’d have applied to him yesterday.

  Yesterday she’d have called him intense and disturbing, at least to her peace of mind.

  Shore lights slipped away as the yacht glided in a wide turn. Twists of hair blew across her face and she turned to face into the wind. She sipped her wine and a wayward curl clung to her lips. Absentmindedly, she lifted it off her mouth, then slowly brushed the end back and forth across her lips, the soft rhythm soothing her.

  ‘You have. Very attentive. I’ve — enjoyed myself.’ Unexpected and delicious and despite whatever hidden agenda she was sure he had, it was the truth. Mahoney was good company. Fun even, though she doubted she could tell him that.

  ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘I guess I am.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be. Day-to-day things can be stressful. We’ve both had a pleasant break in congenial company.’

  ‘Like a truce?’

  ‘If you like.’

  Unexpectedly, he reached across the space between them, bridging the gap to smooth a strand of hair off her temple. His fingers drew a slow, sensuous line along skin suddenly too sensitive. Her cheek tingled under his caress, warm and alive as his touch awakened a deep-seated need within her. Then he lifted his fingers and she held her breath while his hand hovered in her peripheral vision, waiting for another touch, wanting it.

  With obvious reluctance he pulled back, shoved his free hand in his pocket and raised his glass, swallowing half the wine in one mouthful.

  A drop of wine clung to his lip, right there in the corner, and she had an insane desire to lean over and taste it. The tip of her tongue touched the corner of her own mouth and she drew a slow breath.

  What was she going to do — kiss him? And wouldn’t that complicate an already complex situation.

  She sighed and leaned on the rail, keeping a careful distance between them.

  ‘Don’t over-think things so much.’

  ‘It’s hard not to. The first time we met I tipped a tray of champagne over you. Yesterday you were trying to evict us. I should be the last person you want to be dining with, so I have to wonder why you asked me to dinner?’

  He shrugged and took another mouthful of wine. ‘I like to eat and figured you did too. Why not share a meal and get to know one another better?’

  ‘It has been a nice evening, thank you.’ She raised her glass in a silent toast and took another sip of the cabernet sauvignon, savouring the rich flavour as it rolled across her palate.

  ‘We’re not enemies, Trouble. And we could be — friends.’

  Desire lay within his words, an echo of her own longing. She looked up from his lips and met a look that fired her blood, heating her all over, again. Like an all over sunburn without the pain. Energy zinged through every vein. Heart racing, she smouldered like New Year’s Eve fireworks ready to explode over the ocean waves.

  Friends? Surely that wasn’t the message her body was sending her? But Mahoney was making a strangely seductive kind of sense. Could they be friends?

  ‘What is it you think you’ll get from me?’ She raised her chin and looked into his eyes. Twin points of light reflected, like flames burning slow and intense.

  ‘Do you distrust everyone, or just me?’

  A ripple of shame lapped at her. Distrust and an expectation of nothing good from a man were her father’s legacies, her defence against hurt and rejection, a fortress within which she hid. Mahoney seemed determined to storm her defences with his straight talking and his Irish charm.

  At the back of her mind, she knew he had the legal right to her building and his generous offer of another property was unexpected and unnecessary. Yet he’d made the offer, and repeated it today.

  Had she misjudged him? Could Mahoney be different from her father?

  Her heart beat a little faster, and the foolish longing to be able to trust resurfaced.

  Could she?

  Should she?

  Not with Mahoney. Not yet.

  ‘Old habits and all that. You know.’ She shrugged off the odd notion she’d stepped across some invisible boundary allowing him to know that about her — it was like opening a door to her mind, just a little, and letting him peek inside.

  Why had she relaxed her guard?

  Because somewhere during this evening, Wrong Matt, the enemy, had morphed into Right Matt. He was dangerous and exciting and she must keep her wits about her.

  Resolutely, she placed her glass on the window ledge and turned back to him.

  Light from the cabin highlighted the planes of his cheeks and the stubble darkening his jaw. Friendship was not the first thing on her mind. She didn’t think it was on his either, despite his suggestion.

  In the dim spill of light from the cabin, his smile was dangerous, like the wolf in a fairy tale. ‘So, even though you don’t trust me, you came out with me tonight? I’m flattered.’

  She took a step back. Prickles of doubt ran down her spine and she wondered at her insanity in coming on a date with such a man. Her heart thumped, hard, and she raised a hand to calm its erratic pounding. ‘I doubt my presence is noteworthy.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be wanting to spend my time with a beautiful woman?’

  Waves created by a passing boat smacked the sides of the yacht. The world slewed sideways, she lost her footing and grabbed for the railing. Her fingers froze, clenching the cold metal at the same time as Mahoney reached out a hand and grabbed her elbow.

  Beautiful? He’d called her beautiful? Mahoney was taunting her now with sweet, meaningless phrases.

  Anger bubbled up inside and spilled over as, muscles tensed, she morphed back into the red haired, freckled teenager with the tomboy tendency to lash out.

  Never had she wanted to commit a violent act so much as now. Her chest ached as she fought the urge to yell at him and she clenched her fists firmly at her sides.

  ‘Stop it.’

  His eyes widened, and then narrowed, searing her with their intensity. ‘Do you not like hearing the truth? I thought lies were
anathema to you.’

  ‘It’s not true. I’m not beautiful. You’re lying.’

  Mahoney reached past her and put his glass down. Cornering her between his body and the bench, he held her shoulders.

  She pushed against his chest but there was nowhere to go. Frustration vented itself in the solid thump she delivered. He gave a soft grunt but his hold didn’t ease.

  ‘Who’s made you so unsure, Andie? You’re reacting as though I’ve insulted you but you are a beautiful, desirable woman.’

  Light from behind her illuminated his dark blue irises and his determination to get answers.

  Sincerity filled his words and it was almost possible to believe him, and the appreciative gleam in his eyes. Uncertainty stopped the swift denial that automatically rose to her lips. She shifted from foot to foot.

  He leaned close, his voice soft and seductive. ‘What do you see in your mirror?’

  She turned her head and looked for the lights on the shore but they were watery and unfocussed. How could she tell him she and her mirror had a hate affair?

  Gently, he cupped her face and ran a slightly callused thumb across her cheek. Hypnotic and soothing, the action encouraged her to look up at him. Inexperienced in resisting raw desire, her anger fled, replaced by a fierce wanting and an insane need to melt into his arms. To believe his words.

  ‘Shall I tell you what I see?’

  Soft tones glided through her, finding gaps and slipping beneath her defences while his thumbs continued to soothe the hollows of her collar bones. The sensuous massage opened her to his velvet voice.

  ‘I see a young woman, as lovely inside as out, who puts others’ needs first. But she doesn’t believe in herself enough to trust what she knows is true. I see you, Andie, and you are beautiful.’

  He lowered his head, so slowly it was as if time breathed with her, holding her breath, knowing what would follow, wanting it, not daring to want it.

  Light as a butterfly’s touch his lips brushed hers, the scent of strawberries and wine on his breath mingling with hers.

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him, seeking more. His scent wrapped around her, more intoxicating than the wine they’d shared and his mouth closed over hers.