Mistress For Hire (Harlequin Presents)

by Angela Devine

  ‘Grilled emu,’ replied Matt.

  Fifteen minutes later Lisa sat quietly studying her companion as he began eating his unusual meal. She was beginning to suspect that Tim had seriously misrepresented his uncle. From her flatmate’s descriptions, she had pictured Matt Lansdon as a ferocious, pig-headed old grouch with the narrow outlook of a nineteenth-century pioneer. Instead he had proved to be relatively young and disturbingly sensual and was now revealing unexpected depths of sophistication. Of course, she would never in a million years have expected to have lunch with a man like this, but she could not deny that she found him intriguing. As she savoured the diverse textures and subtle flavours of the chewy octopus and creamy goat’s cheese, Lisa forgot that she was suffering a nerve-racking ordeal at the hands of a merciless tormentor and began to enjoy herself.

  ‘So where did you acquire your taste for octopus?’ asked Matt. ‘In Melbourne, or somewhere more exotic?’

  ‘The Greek islands,’ replied Lisa with her mouth full. ‘My mother was renting a villa in the Dodecanese about four years ago and I stayed with her for a while. I’ll never forget those wonderful moonlit nights on the vine-covered terrace, with bouzouki music playing in the background and people strolling around in the streets of the village down below. And, of course, the food. Kebabs, grilled cheese, octopus. I loved it.’

  ‘What was your mother doing there?’ asked Matt with interest.

  ‘She’s a university lecturer. She was away on sabbatical leave,’ replied Lisa.

  ‘So you come from an academic background? That surprises me. And how does your mother view your present way of life?’

  ‘Oh, she disapproves of me!’ said Lisa cheerfully.

  Matt’s eyebrows peaked. ‘I can see her point.’

  ‘Can you? I doubt it. The reason she disapproves of me is that she thinks I’m too conservative.’

  ‘Too conservative?’ echoed Matt, aghast.

  Lisa grinned wickedly at his discomfiture.

  ‘Yes. She’s a lecturer in women’s studies. She used to be a hippy back in the seventies and she’s always telling me that I should get in touch with my natural impulses.’

  ‘Has Tim met your parents?’ he growled.

  ‘Why should Tim—’ began Lisa. ‘Oh, no, not really. Well, I haven’t met my father all that often myself, and my mother lives in Sydney, you see. But she’s fairly unmaternal. We’re more like friends really, rather than mother and daughter. I’ve always called her by her first name—Suzanne—and she’d have the cold horrors at the thought of inspecting any of my boyfriends to see if they were suitable for marrying. She just takes it for granted that I’ll do whatever I choose and tell her about it afterwards.’

  Disapproval showed in every line of Matt’s face.

  ‘What about your father?’ he demanded abruptly. ‘Why haven’t you met him very often?’

  ‘Oh, he’s American and he’s always lived in the United States. My mother met him when she went there to do her Masters degree in history about thirty years ago. They dropped out for a while and joined a commune and they were into Haight-Ashbury and Woodstock, all that sort of thing. Suzanne became pregnant and Ralph, that’s my father, turned really conservative. He went back to join his father’s law firm and he talked her into marrying him, but it made her feel trapped. The marriage only lasted three years, then they split up. Suzanne came back to Australia with my brother Brian and me, and Ralph’s still in the United States. I didn’t really meet him properly until I was twenty-one and I’ve only seen him a couple of times since.’

  ‘Brian and Lisa?’ mused Matt. ‘Those are surprisingly conservative names for a hippy mother, aren’t they?’

  A dimple showed in Lisa’s cheek.

  ‘Well, she wanted to call us Alpha and Night Star, but my father wouldn’t let her.’

  ‘Your father sounds like a man after my own heart,’ muttered Matt. ‘Quite frankly, I can’t imagine why women like that bother to have children.’

  ‘Don’t criticize her!’ flared Lisa. ‘At least she loved us, which is more than my father did, or he would have tried to contact us all those years that we were living out here. And Suzanne always kept us with her, no matter how much she moved around or who she lived with. She didn’t shove us off to boarding school the way Sonia did with poor old Tim.’

  Matt’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his nephew’s name.

  ‘You think it was wrong to send Tim to boarding school, do you?’

  ‘Yes. He hated the place and I think you’re just as bad as Sonia for letting it happen. Both of you just want him to act out the script that you’ve written for him and you won’t let him be an individual. I think it’s wrong for families to imprint their requirements on kids. They should let them discover themselves.’

  ‘Did you discover yourself while you were traipsing around after your mother?’ asked Matt sceptically.

  Lisa was silent for a moment, staring abstractedly out the window as if she were watching some procession from the past.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she said at last.

  ‘And what exactly did you discover?’

  ‘What’s the use of telling you? You’ll only sneer at me, whatever I say.’

  His eyes met hers with that disconcerting blue gaze.

  ‘Tell me,’ he urged.

  ‘I found out that I liked the warmth and spontaneity of my mother’s way of life,’ said Lisa, tossing her head. ‘Even though I didn’t like the drifting or the lack of continuity, I found out that I do accept some of her values. But the really important thing that I found out was that I love her and won’t sit here and listen to you condemn her when you know nothing about her.’

  Matt suddenly dropped his eyes and his mouth tightened. Then he looked up at her with a grudging nod of approval.

  ‘You’re quite right,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘And I admire you for it. Family loyalty is very important to me, too. Will you accept my apology for criticizing your mother?’

  Lisa was taken aback by this unexpected tact and sincerity. For a moment she felt a rush of goodwill towards Matt, a dangerous feeling that she could lay everything before him and he would understand. Not just the childish deception that she had concocted with Tim, but all her past hopes and disappointments and insecurities, all the dreams she cherished for the rest of her life. In spite of his stern exterior, she felt he would really listen to her. She opened her mouth as if to speak and then paused. Was she out of her mind? How could she possibly trust him?

  ‘Yes, I accept your apology,’ she muttered.

  Later, as they were lingering over a delicious tangerine meringue and hot, fragrant black coffee, Matt turned the conversation back to her family.

  ‘You said you had a brother,’ he reminded her. ‘What does he do?’

  ‘He’s an actor,’ said Lisa with a touch of defiance. ‘You’ve probably seen him on TV. Brian Hayward. He played a cocaine addict in one of those medical series last year on the ABC.’

  To her surprise Matt did not utter any scathing comment, but merely nodded.

  ‘Yes, I did see him. He was very talented. I think I also saw him in a production of The Revenger’s Tragedy in Sydney two or three years ago.’

  Lisa’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Are you interested in the theatre?’ she asked.

  ‘Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?’

  ‘No. I suppose not. It’s just that Tim gave me the impression that you were only interested in the farm and making money.’

  ‘The farm was going through a very difficult stage when my brother died,’ growled Matt. ‘I had to be interested in both of those things if the entire family was not to go broke and after a few years the hard work and the preoccupation became a habit. But that doesn’t make me a complete boor! Still, you’re probably right to criticize me for not taking more interest in Tim’s education. I should have spent more time with the boy when he was in high school. As it is, I hardly know anything about him.’

  Lisa was touche
d by this admission of his own failings.

  ‘Well, I think you ought to know that he doesn’t want to be a farmer and that he’s not interested in finance,’ she said softly.

  ‘Maybe not,’ replied Matt with a flash of the old arrogance that antagonized her. ‘But he’s going to inherit a lot of money and land in a few years’ time and he needs to know how to deal with it so nobody can fleece him. If he had shown any signs of being seriously attracted to another profession, I might have considered allowing him to train for it. As it is, I believe I’m doing the best I can for him.’

  ‘What about you? Did you always want to be a farmer?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘No, but that’s the way it turned out and I’m not complaining. Now, should we go for a walk along the beach to settle our lunch?’

  They were just leaving the hotel when they caught sight of a woman of about Matt’s age coming towards them. She was small and slightly built with feathery blonde curls, green eyes and a rather strained expression on her face. She wore a stylish, pale green linen dress and carried a cane shopping basket over one arm. With her other hand she was tugging a small boy of about four who kept trying to break away from her and run back towards the path that led to the shore. The woman’s face lit up at the sight of Matt and she immediately hurried forward and kissed him. Lisa saw a strange expression flit across his face, a mixture of pity, affection and exasperation, which was gone in an instant. He turned to Lisa and made the necessary introductions.

  ‘Andrea, I’d like you to meet Lisa Hayward, who has come over from Melbourne as my guest. Lisa, this is my old friend Andrea Spencer and her son, Justin.’

  Lisa suffered a double shock. First there was the brief but unmistakable flare of dismay in Andrea’s eyes, which was swiftly hidden. Yet worse than that was the jolt that went through Lisa herself as she looked down at the small boy who was now clutching at Matt’s leg and gazing adoringly up at him. The child was the image of Matt, right down to the cleft in his chin. With his dark hair, light blue eyes and imperious mouth, he was like a miniature version of the man to whom he clung. In any other circumstances Lisa would have identified him unhesitatingly as Matt’s son. But Matt was unmarried…of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that the child wasn’t his. Suddenly Lisa felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. A sickening sensation of betrayal and jealousy left her unable to speak for a moment. Then, glancing from the child to Andrea, she found her own emotions mirrored on the other woman’s face. Anger, distress, apprehension. Lisa almost reeled at the intensity of her feelings, but immediately struggled to regain her poise. If what she suspected was true, Andrea had far better reason than she did for such a reaction. After all, Lisa had no claim on Matt. So why should she feel so horrified at the thought that he might have fathered another woman’s child?

  ‘Hello, Andrea,’ she said, trying to infuse some warmth into the greeting. ‘Hello, Justin.’

  Andrea’s recovery was quick, Lisa had to give her that. She smiled politely and held out her hand.

  ‘Hello, Lisa,’ she murmured. ‘Are you staying here long?’

  Before Lisa could reply Matt intervened.

  ‘She’s staying indefinitely,’ he said.

  The stricken look returned to Andrea’s face, but her courtesy didn’t waver.

  ‘Well, Justin and I had better get moving,’ she continued in a high, rapid voice, blinking twice. ‘We only came to buy some soft drinks for his party on Saturday. He’s turning four, you remember. You will call in if you can make it, won’t you, Matt?’

  Matt gave her a wry smile that seemed indescribably cruel to Lisa.

  ‘Of course, Andrea. If I can make it,’ he agreed in a voice that suggested he had no intention of doing so. ‘It was nice seeing you both. Goodbye, Justin. Buy some chips, if Mum will let you.’

  Matt fished in his pocket and pressed a coin into the child’s hand. Justin grinned up at him, his smile so like Matt’s that Lisa could hardly bear to look.

  ‘Goodbye, Matt.’ Andrea’s voice came out as little more than a husky whisper. ‘Goodbye, Lisa. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

  As they walked to the Porsche, Lisa was attacked by two conflicting impulses, both equally powerful. To burst into tears or to punch Matt Lansdon in the nose, good and hard. A great wave of irrational guilt and pity broke over her as she glanced over her shoulder at Andrea. But why should she feel guilty? Even if her suspicions were true, she wasn’t attempting to steal Matt from Andrea. She hadn’t done anything. Then the memory of that kiss in the elevator of the State Theatre came surging back. To her shame she felt anew the tingling flame of excitement that had filled her then. Well, I didn’t know he was involved with someone else, she told herself defensively. Besides, it doesn’t look as though he is involved any more. But that bleak thought didn’t bring her any comfort. She certainly had no intention of falling in love with a man who would callously desert the mother of his own child. Wait a minute, Lisa! she almost shouted at herself. Who said anything about falling in love with Matt Lansdon? You’d better watch your step, girl.

  It only made her hate Matt more than ever to realize that he seemed quite impervious to either her troubled silence or Andrea’s barely concealed distress. He held the car door open for Lisa with the faint, mocking smile that infuriated her.

  ‘We’ll just drive down a little farther so we can get access to the beach,’ he said.

  He parked the car in a spot behind the sand dunes and they picked their way down a set of silvery wooden steps between the high banks of marram grass. The beach was deserted, its fine, powdery white sand marked only by the ripples of wind and waves and the delicate footprints of sea birds. But Lisa took little pleasure in the vast expanse of aquamarine water, the crashing surf, the wracks of leathery brown kelp or the tangy salt air. Her mind was preoccupied with other things.

  ‘Have you known Andrea long?’

  ‘All my life.’

  ‘Does she work on the Tasman Peninsula?’

  ‘She used to. She was a schoolteacher. But she stopped when Justin was born and she hasn’t been able to get another job.’

  ‘What does her husband do?’ asked Lisa in a carefully casual voice.

  ‘She hasn’t got a husband. She’s a single mother,’ replied Matt curtly.

  Lisa felt a sickening lurch as if she had just looked over the edge of a cliff.

  ‘That must be hard for her,’ she said accusingly.

  Matt shrugged.

  ‘I imagine it is,’ he retorted. ‘But she went into the situation with her eyes open, so she can hardly complain.’

  You swine, thought Lisa. She was far too angry now to have any scruples about being nosy.

  ‘What about the child’s father?’ she asked.

  ‘What about him? Is it really any of your business?’

  Lisa seethed quietly at the rudeness of this reply and the callous insensitivity that seemed to lie behind it.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ she admitted grudgingly.

  ‘Good. Then can we stop talking about Andrea? Look, have you ever seen those pied oystercatchers before? Colourful little creatures, aren’t they?’

  Lisa tried to pretend an interest in the black and white birds with their vivid red legs and beaks that were hunting for food in the shallows, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She barely looked at the jellyfish or the shells or the huge boulders of porous rock that littered the beach. Her mind was racing with indignation as she tramped along beside Matt on the firm sand near the water’s edge. Tim was right, she thought, darting a glance at the powerful, ruthless male striding along beside her, his dark hair blowing wildly in the sea breeze. He’s nothing but a domineering, insensitive brute. The sooner I leave this place, the better!

  ‘You do think Tim will arrive this afternoon, don’t you?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Matt in a bland voice that somehow made her feel more uneasy than ever. ‘Why shouldn’t he?’

  ‘Then can we go to th
e farm now? I want to make sure I’m there when he comes.’

  ‘Dear me, how impatient you young lovers are,’ drawled Matt. ‘It’s only a few hours since you left him. Why are you so eager to see him again?’

  So I can persuade him to take me back to the airport, thought Lisa grimly. Or so I can hijack his rental car and drive myself there if necessary. But she didn’t say this. She simply gave Matt a wide-eyed, dreamy smile.

  ‘Because we’ve never been parted before, and I already miss him such a lot,’ she said in a syrupy voice.

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ growled Matt.

  The farm was situated a few miles from the old convict ruins at Saltwater River. It was set high on a grassy hillside with panoramic views over a sapphire blue bay and vast white tidal flats. As they turned up the dirt road Lisa saw red and white Hereford cattle grazing knee-deep in the lush grass while in other paddocks half-grown lambs frisked in the shelter of hawthorn hedges. Three or four horses raised their heads to watch the passage of the car, and when they came up the last curve of fawn, dusty road, a chorus of barking rose from the dog kennels beside the stables. Matt drew the car to a halt and helped Lisa out.

  ‘Well, here you are,’ he said with a touch of irony. ‘Your first glimpse of your new home.’

  Lisa felt a pang of excitement as she looked around her. I wish it were! she thought breathlessly. It’s such a beautiful old place. The house looked exactly like a doll’s house that Lisa had once yearned for as a child. It was built in the Victorian Gothic style with steeply pitched gables, dormer windows and decoratively carved bargeboards. A veranda trimmed with white iron lace extended along two sides of the building, and it stood right in the middle of a lush, green garden. A massive, clipped box hedge ran around the perimeter and within its shelter grew masses of brightly coloured flowers. Orange calendulas, tall, pink, nodding foxgloves, tangled yellow roses, vivid blue lobelias and red geraniums. But Matt gave her little time to sniff the warm, sweet, flowery scents or to explore the nooks and crannies of the garden. Lifting his expensive pigskin suitcase and Lisa’s battered backpack out of the boot, he strode briskly across to a side door.