This Man's Magic

by Stephanie Wyatt

  'Of course.' Sorrel lifted her chin proudly, wondering if he recognised them from the designs she had submitted to him.

  Tammy thought it was time she entered the lists on her friend's behalf. 'Sorrel's a first class craftswoman, but she's an even more brilliant designer,' she said in a 'put that in your pipe and smoke it' tone.

  He raised a sardonic eyebrow but before he could comment Julia was asking excitedly, 'I can have them, Luc?'

  Sorrel stiffened, gasping, 'Julia! You can't allow a man you've only just met to buy you expensive jewellery!'

  Julia's blue eyes were stormy, her bottom lip jutting. 'Don't be so stuffy, Sorrel. You're too old-fashioned to be true.'

  'I don't think so.' Sorrel was aware that Tammy was becoming almost apoplectic to see her not only turning down a sale but uncaring if she offended the man she had been so keen to please only a few weeks ago. 'What are you planning to do with them? Hide them away and wear them on the sly, or make it obvious to your parents you're prepared to sell your favours?'

  Her sister blushed scarlet with mortification but insisted defensively, 'I don't see it's any of your business.'

  'I'm inclined to agree,' Lucas Amory broke in with cutting sarcasm. 'Or do you question the morals of all your customers before you sell?'

  Sorrel was a tall girl, in her high heels only a couple of inches short of six feet, but she still had to fling up her head to face him squarely. 'Only when my sister's involved,' she challenged, feeling a kind of satisfaction at his astonishment as Julia disclaimed, 'Half-sister.'

  'Don't split hairs.' Sorrel rounded on her, too disturbed to save her sister's feelings. 'I know for a fact Mother would be horrified if you allowed this man to buy you jewellery, a man old enough to be your father.'

  She heard his sharply indrawn breath with a feeling of exultation. Let him wince! To ram home the truth she went on, 'If you want those ear-rings, Julia, you can have them. It's your eighteenth birthday in a few weeks so they can be your present from me.'

  That Julia had lied about her age was apparent now her secret was out. Her eyes spat fury before turning a look of appeal at Luc. But neither were aware of her. Sorrel was staring in challenging contempt at the man whose hand was gripping her arm, while he answered her challenge with a gleam of devilish mockery. 'While Julia makes up her mind which bauble she wants, you and I can argue over who pays while we dance.' His dark eyes held an expression that sent a shiver down Sorrel's spine.

  But before she could claim she couldn't leave the stall, Tammy was urging, 'Yes, go on, Sorrel. I'll hold the fort here.' And Tammy thought she was doing her a favour, Sorrel thought gloomily as, his hand like a manacle round her wrist, Lucas Amory drew her away.

  They reached the edge of the dance-floor and, not taking his eyes from the frozen defiance of her face, he pulled her into his arms. Expecting him to return to the argument over who should pay for Julia's present, she was thrown into utter confusion when he remarked, 'Didn't I see you sneaking out of my bedroom earlier? What were you after?'

  There could only be one bedroom he was referring to, and wild colour flared in her cheeks until she told herself firmly she had no cause to be embarrassed. Lifting her chin she said coolly, 'I wasn't sneaking. I was expecting to be able to change there as that has always been my room. The guest rooms are on the other side of the house.'

  'This gets better and better.' The darkly mocking eyes raked over her face and slid lower to the unbuttoned neckline of her silk shirt, and lower still to the firm breasts clearly outlined by the soft fabric. 'Does that mean we shall have the pleasure of sharing it tonight?'

  She was aware the outrageous question was meant to bait her and refused to rise to it. 'Whoever shares your room, it won't be me. I never intended staying the night, even though—' there was a bitter twist to her soft mouth '—only moments before my mother had been assuring me my room was always ready for me.'

  He dropped his flirtatious manner. 'Perhaps she didn't know I'd been given that room. It was your sister who had it in hand.'

  And Sorrel knew why Julia had chosen it, because it was close to her own. 'Ah yes, my foolish little sister. I should think she's chosen her birthday present by now, don't you?'

  'Probably.' He had been holding her loosely as they danced but now he pulled her against him, one hand at the base of her spine, the other holding hers captive against his chest. 'It won't hurt her to wait.'

  'You're wasting your time,' Sorrel warned him.

  'Oh, I don't think so.' His dark glance moved over her face speculatively, the arm at her back drawing her closer still until she was very much aware of his hard, muscled body.

  It wasn't the kind of smothering clinch she had sometimes had to fight off from men who'd had too much to drink, and she couldn't say she found his proximity repulsive. All the same, every nerve in her body tensed and she had to force herself to relax. 'I do,' she said quietly. 'You've lost the argument over who pays for Julia's ear-rings before you've begun. I only have to refuse to take your money.'

  'You could, but you won't,' he said confidently. 'Because I promise you, the price of those ear-rings are all you're going to get out of me.' His hand tightened on hers painfully. 'Was that plot to get into my office your way of restoring the family fortunes?'

  'There was, and is, no plot,' Sorrel asserted angrily.

  'Oh, come on, you can drop the fiction of Felix Valentine being your father now I've run you down to your lair.'

  'You haven't spoken to him, then?' She felt a shaft of disappointment. It would be very satisfying to watch this man having to eat his words.

  'We haven't had occasion to meet since he came home. And in fact I'd forgotten the incident until I found you here tonight.' He sounded bored. 'I was following up something I thought was entirely separate, though now the pieces of the jigsaw are beginning to fit.'

  'Ah yes, chasing my little sister.' Sorrel saw the opportunity to return to their original argument and grabbed it. 'I don't doubt you're a very experienced man, Mr Amory, but I'd rather you reserved that experience for models and society butterflies and didn't practice it on my sister.'

  'Especially as I'm old enough to be her father?' There was an edge to his voice and Sorrel knew that shot had gone home.

  'Well, aren't you?' she challenged.

  'As she turns out to be only seventeen, yes.' There was a wry quirk to his mouth and the concession was made reluctantly. 'Not old enough to be your father, though.' He examined her face, at the same time insolently moving his left hand against her breast.

  Sorrel hoped he hadn't noticed her suddenly indrawn breath. 'Maybe not, but if you're egotistical enough to imagine I'm trying to prise my sister from your clutches on my own account, then think again.' She firmly moved his hand away before delivering cuttingly, 'It's my mother who's worrying about the undesirable man Julia dragged home.'

  She felt him stiffen, saw the leap of incredulity in his eyes and heard it in his voice. 'Undesirable!'

  'Wouldn't you say so? You're what—forty?' She knew that was exaggerating and as she inspected his face as thoroughly as he'd inspected hers moments before, she had to admit that in spite of the silver wings in his hair, he looked younger than the thirty-six the newspaper columns reported him to be. 'More than twice Julia's age, and with a reputation for womanising that would hardly endear you to her parents.'

  'But rich.' His voice didn't betray it but he was angry, his sudden crushing grip telling her so.

  'Not rich enough for them to turn a blind eye to your attempts to seduce their daughter,' she returned smartly. 'Because that's the object of the exercise, isn't it? I can't imagine marriage, let alone with a child bride, is quite your scene. And even if it was, my mother is the last person to find a man acceptable just because he's wealthy.'

  'That I doubt, but you're right about marriage.' The bone-crushing grip on her hand relaxed and she was able to flex it cautiously. 'Why limit myself to one green apple when there's a whole orchard of juicy peaches waiti
ng to fall into my hand?' His grin was derisive and cruel.

  Sorrel was amazed at herself. Not normally so outspoken, she had been blunt beyond the point of rudeness with this man. His attitude to women in general and his designs on her sister in particular earned her unqualified distaste and she was glad if she had made him angry, yet she found this verbal sparring with him exhilarating.

  'And you still think warning Julia off is going to thwart my evil intent?' he asked cynically.

  'No, but then I told Mother that was useless.' Unconsciously she sighed. 'And I know it's no use appealing to your finer instincts.'

  'I should say not, because I don't have any, at least where women are concerned.' The music was romantic, the movement of his body against hers slow and languorous. 'You could try appealing to my baser instincts.'

  Sorrel looked up questioningly, trying to fight the spell those movements were casting over her. 'Mr Amory—'

  'The name's Lucas. Luc to my intimate friends. Go on, say it.'

  'Very well.' Her lips twitched up at the corners. 'Would you mind explaining what you're getting at… Lucas?'

  'Not at all, Sorrel.' His voice was silky smooth and seductive. 'As you're so anxious to save your little sister from my evil clutches, I'm suggesting you can achieve that by offering yourself in her place.'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  All trace of Sorrel's habitual cynically amused expression was wiped away as her eyes widened in shock to meet the oddly cold amusement in his. 'In your bed, you mean?' she croaked.

  But, of course, he wasn't serious. Only a few minutes ago he had been accusing her of being a schemer with criminal intent. She felt annoyed with herself for being momentarily taken in and covered her lapse by asking sweetly, 'You often proposition women within minutes of meeting them?'

  'I don't usually have to.' His voice was warmly seductive but his eyes were watchful.

  'You mean they're only too eager to crawl into your bed.' She had meant to sound contemptuous but it came out huskily because just for a few seconds she had been imagining what it would be like to be made love to by him, to surrender to his blatant sexuality, and she was horrified at herself.

  Quelling the rising heat in her blood she said with a convincing pretence of boredom, 'Much as I'd like to save Julia from her youthful folly, that self-sacrificing I am not!'

  'You know, Miss Berisford-Reid—'

  'Valentine,' Sorrel snapped. 'Sir Charles is my mother's second husband.'

  But he ignored her assertion. 'For a girl who's got herself into a very sticky situation, your unconciliatory behaviour is most unwise.'

  The threat was unmistakable, but the band had come to the end of a set, giving her the excuse to extricate herself. She tried to walk away from him quickly but the dispersing couples impeded her and she was conscious of his hand still on her waist. 'You're still refusing to let me pay for Julia's trinket?' he asked.

  'I'm still refusing,' she bit out.

  'How surprising. How very surprising,' was his soft response.

  Tammy looked brightly questioning when they reached the Painted Salon, but Julia complained resentfully, 'Luc, you've been ages!'

  'Have you decided what you want?' he asked.

  'Yes, the ear-rings of course, to match my pendant.' She looked at him appealingly. 'You are going to buy them for me, aren't you?'

  He slanted a glance at Sorrel. 'Your sister won that argument…' He paused as if to imply there were others over which she hadn't had her own way.

  'Sorrel always was a prude,' Julia said sulkily.

  Aware of Lucas Amory's speculative gaze on her she agreed readily, returning the ear-rings to their box and handing it to her sister.

  'Didn't you forget something?' He picked up one of her business cards, studying the address on it.

  'Julia knows where to find me,' she shrugged.

  'But I don't.' He carefully put the card away in his wallet.

  'Why should you want to?' Julia demanded jealously.

  'Who knows when it might come in useful?' There was a hard implacability in his voice that sent shivers down Sorrel's spine. 'Come on, little one, let's have one last dance.' He turned Julia around, giving her a gentle push towards the ballroom. 'Goodnight, Sorrel.'

  'Goodbye, Mr Amory,' she said firmly and watched them go, hearing Julia's plaintive, 'What do you mean, one last dance? It's early yet.'

  'Well?' Tammy was almost beside herself, bursting with curiosity. 'Is he having second thoughts about your designs?'

  'The subject never arose,' Sorrel evaded.

  'You didn't mention it? Honestly, Sorrel, how could you waste such an opportunity?'

  'As he left me in no doubt six weeks ago that my designs didn't interest him, meeting him here tonight would hardly change his mind,' Sorrel said flatly. 'I think we could pack up and go home now.' . 'Sorrel, what in heaven's name have you done to Julia?' Her mother rushed up in a flurry of indignation as Sorrel was writing the cheque for the charity's share of her profits. Glad that Tammy had taken the last of the stock to the van and wouldn't witness any more family dissension, she handed the cheque to her mother who pushed it into her evening purse without even looking at it. 'Whatever it was, she's gone to bed in floods of tears and Mr Amory has decided to go back to London.'

  Unable to quell a surge of gladness, Sorrel folded the borrowed cloth. 'Isn't that what you wanted, Mother? To detach her from a most unsuitable man?'

  'Yes…' her mother allowed grudgingly. 'But I didn't expect you to upset her so. What did you say to her?'

  'As a matter of fact it was what I said to him that seems to have done the trick.' A reminiscent smile curved her mouth. 'I told him the truth, that not only was he old enough to be Julia's father but that his dubious reputation made him undesirable to her parents.'

  'Sorrel, you didn't!' Elizabeth Berisford-Reid stared at her eldest daughter in horror. 'Surely not even you could be so rude to a guest in my house!'

  Sorrel's throat still ached with tears she was too proud to shed as she walked quickly across the echoing hall to the front door, shrugging on her coat. What gave her mother the idea that Julia had the monopoly of feelings that could be hurt? she wondered. Stupid. Stupid! Self pity was an emotion she didn't admire and never allowed herself. Dashing a hand across her eyes she started down the steps, but when she reached the spot where Tammy had parked the van there was only an empty space.

  A hand gripped her arm as she looked round in puzzlement and a gravelly voice said, 'It's all right, I sent your friend on ahead. We'll reach London before she does.'

  There was little light out on the forecourt but Sorrel had no difficulty in recognising Lucas Amory. 'Since when would Tammy act on your instructions?' she demanded angrily. But she very well might, she realised with an inward groan. Tammy would think she was doing her a service, giving her this chance to be alone with the man who could do so much for her career.

  'Since I told her I would be driving you home,' he said maddeningly. 'She didn't seem to think you'd have any objections.'

  'Then she was mistaken,' Sorrel snapped.

  'I wonder why,' he said softly, 'when you went to such lengths to meet me before. Or can I guess? You've finally realised you've got yourself in too deep and now you want to run for cover. Oh no, Mystery Lady. I take great exception to being made the victim of your criminal activities.'

  He had never seemed more pantherlike, or more threatening. 'C-criminal?' Sorrel stuttered.

  'Forgery, deception, misrepresentation, and, I have good reason to suspect, theft,' he listed for her astounded ears. 'So you see, there's no way I'm going to allow you to cover your tracks.'

  Sorrel licked suddenly dry lips. 'Y-you're mistaken, terribly mistaken.' She thought frustratedly that just one telephone call to her father could have straightened this out, and suddenly she was angry again. 'And I'm damned if I'll go anywhere with you.'

  'You know someone else who'll take you back to London tonight? If, as you claim, you have nothing t
o hide, where's the harm in letting me take you home?' He turned her towards a white Mercedes coupe, the passenger door standing open, and bundled her inside.

  Taking the seat beside her, he leaned across to secure her safety-belt before fastening his own and switching on the ignition. The interior of the car was unashamedly luxurious but Sorrel found it impossible to relax. Why had he done this? Considering his attitude ever since they had met she couldn't seriously believe he was transferring his attentions from her sister to herself. Nor could she take seriously his threats concerning her supposed criminal activities, not even this last accusation of theft. It was so ludicrous he had to be bluffing.

  But, having got her into his car, he seemed in no hurry to talk, beyond asking for directions to get them through the country lanes. Even when they reached the motorway he chose a tape on the cassette player rather than conversation and Sorrel, still seething at his high-handedness but with a streak of uneasiness underlying her anger, was glad to be left with her thoughts. They soon overtook Tammy's van, his powerful car eating up the miles, and when they reached London his knowledge of the East End surprised her. Only for the last quarter of a mile did she have to give him directions.

  'You live here?' he asked as the car drew up outside the former warehouse.

  Sorrel climbed out, slamming the door, and he quickly followed. 'The entrance is round the corner,' she said resignedly, having known she wouldn't get rid of him so easily.

  'Got your key?' She fumbled in her bag and as soon as her fingers closed round it he removed it from her grasp, fitting it into the lock, opening the door and pushing her inside.

  The light on the stairs seemed very bright and Sorrel blinked, her pulse beating very fast. 'I can manage to find my own way upstairs, thank you.' She covered that extra beat with dry flippancy.

  'Oh, I always see a lady to her door,' he drawled, and she had no alternative but to follow him up the stairs, indicating the first door on the left when they came to the final landing.