The Tempestuous Flame

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘And you didn’t want that.’ Her heart was still beating at a fast rate from his renewed use of the shortened version of her first name. She noticed that every time he was angry with her he resorted to the more formal Caroline, so perhaps their disagreement was at an end.

  ‘No, I didn’t. Can you blame me?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘It has everything to do with you!’ He moved closer to her, the long length of his thigh almost touching her own. ‘I’m living here in close proximity with you. You’re attractive, very attractive—no, damn it, you’re beautiful. And you attract me, but you already know that. And while we’re living together like this I can’t think of anyone else but you.’ He smiled as her eyes widened. ‘The spontaneous feelings you seem to think I never have—well, they’re all there. And I don’t like it.’

  Caroline turned away. ‘But you said—’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ he interrupted. ‘But I also said with you I thought things might get out of hand. Well, I think they’re just about to…’

  He pulled her against him, bending his dark head to claim her lips with savage intensity. She was crushed hard against him, her hands resting on his chest, caught between the two of them. He was holding her so tightly she felt as if she were going to snap in half at any moment.

  But she soon forgot everything but the feel of those lips and the way his hands held her immovable against his hard unyielding flesh. Her lips returned the pressure of his and she revelled in his power over her. Why deny it any longer, she was fast falling in love with this attractive stranger, was even now so much in love with him she couldn’t think straight. She acknowledged it even while wanting to deny it. Her mind fought against him and his closeness even while her body melted against him.

  ‘Oh, Caro,’ he groaned against her lips. ‘Why do you affect me like this?’ He teased and played with her lips for long agonising seconds before increasing their pressure once again, their mutual passion rising to fever pitch. ‘You wore this dress on purpose,’ he muttered. ‘You must know how good you look in it.’

  It was a black silk dress and clung in all the right places, and she did know it suited her. Why not—clothes were meant to suit their wearer. ‘I didn’t wear it on purpose,’ she denied, loving the feel of his lips against her throat.

  ‘Perhaps not, you look good in anything. Staying here together like this is explosive.’ He had slowly undone the zip of her dress several inches to gently caress her shoulders. ‘Are you willing to take the consequences?’

  ‘Consequences?’ Caroline was lost in the vortex of her own feelings, her senses aflame with desire.

  ‘In a few minutes I’m going to carry you up those stairs to my bedroom, close the door, throw you on the bed, and not let you out until tomorrow if I let you out then.’

  She licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘I—’

  ‘It’s no good arguing, Caro,’ his voice was husky. ‘I warned you yesterday, gave you every chance to get out, now it’s too late. I think I’ve already reached the point of no return where you’re concerned. In fact, I’m way past.’

  As she had never been made love to fully before the thought of it terrified her—excited, but terrified her too. ‘But—but Matt! He—’

  Already André was turning towards the door, her hand held firmly in his own. ‘If it only happens the once then it’s up to you whether you tell him or not, and if we get a relationship of our own going then I’ll explain to him how it is between us,’ he told her calmly.

  She could just imagine her father’s reaction to that! ‘No, I—I don’t think I—’ She was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

  André held her back from answering it. ‘Leave it, Caro. I want you, now.’

  She pulled away from him. ‘It could be that call you’re expecting.’

  ‘I’m not expecting a call, that was just a way of being able to leave without seeming too rude.’

  ‘But I—I have to answer it.’ She picked up the receiver. ‘Caroline R—Rawlings speaking.’

  ‘Do I have the Rayner cottage?’ It was a female voice, low and what Caroline would guess most men would call sexy. She felt her hackles rise, as she held out the receiver to André. ‘I think it’s for you,’ she said resentfully. No telephone call indeed!

  He snatched the receiver out of her hand. ‘Gregory here,’ he said curtly. ‘Oh, hello, Sylvia. No, I hadn’t forgotten you were going to call me. Who answered the telephone?’ He glanced at Caroline’s set face. ‘That was the girl I’m sharing the cottage with. No, it isn’t like that,’ he gave a throaty chuckle. ‘No, no. Why do you always think the worst?’

  Caroline was in the process of opening the lounge door to leave when his voice stopped her. She turned to face him at the sound of her name. ‘Yes?’ she asked sharply.

  He had his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Where are you going?’ Passion still burnt for her in his eyes.

  ‘To my room. To bed. Alone. To sleep.’

  ‘I’ll be finished here in a moment. If you’ll just wait—’

  ‘You have a nerve!’ she burst out angrily. ‘Just finish talking to your girl-friend and don’t give me another thought. I won’t be giving you any.’

  Caro!’ he sighed in exasperation.

  She didn’t bother to answer him, but left the room. The damned nerve of the man! She hadn’t intended going to bed with him anyway, but for him to think he could just carry on where he left off after speaking to one of his girl-friends was just downright arrogance on his part. But then he was arrogant, to the point of being insufferable.

  She had been in bed a full five minutes when she heard him making his way up the stairs. Without any preliminary warning he walked into her bedroom, not at all concerned with the look of outraged indignation on her face. She put down the book she had been pretending an interest in, pulling herself into a sitting position.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing in here?’ She sounded angry enough, but inside she was quaking. What if he decided he was going to take her with or without her permission?

  He looked around him interestedly, finally bringing those hard green eyes to rest on her, pinning her slender body to the bed with their rapier sharpness. ‘What do you think I’m here for?’ he asked softly.

  She plumped up the pillows energetically. ‘I told you, no. Especially after…’

  ‘After a harmless conversation with my secretary. Oh yes,’ he insisted. ‘Sylvia is my secretary, and a very competent one too. I admit I was expecting her to call me some time while I was here, but certainly not this evening. Apparently she’d been calling me all day.’

  ‘Does it matter why she called? It happened. It’s over. The mood is broken now.’

  André gave a mocking smile. ‘You coward! Can’t you admit that you had no intention of going to bed with me, admit you would have got out of it any way you could. You’re what’s commonly known as a tease, a damned little tease!’

  ‘I’m not! I never said I would go to bed with you, not once did I say such a thing.’

  ‘You didn’t need to. You weren’t exactly fighting me all the way, were you? No wonder Matt didn’t make sure you left here, he knew I wouldn’t get anywhere with you. You tempt a man, drive him almost insane with wanting you, and then you freeze.’ His face was full of cold contempt for her. ‘There’s nothing there, is there, Caroline? You have all the beauty and the body of a temptress, and yet when it comes down to it you’re cold, you have nothing to give a man at all!’

  Caroline had sat almost open-mouthed during this tirade. ‘Is that the way you usually explain away your inadequacies? Blame the woman?’

  ‘Don’t try turning the tables on me,’ he said patiently. ‘I’m not falling for that one. You were terrified when I said I was taking you to my room.’

  ‘I—I wasn’t,’ she denied, fidgeting unnecessarily with the coverlet on her bed. ‘You—you were rushing things, going too fast for me. A few kisses don’t necessarily mean I have to
jump into bed with you.’

  ‘They weren’t just kisses and you know it!’

  ‘Don’t overestimate yourself, André. Like I said, a few kisses don’t mean I have to start a full-scale affair with you.’ Again she tried to sound self-confident, but wasn’t sure if she had succeeded, for André’s face gave little away.

  ‘That’s true. In that case these incidents will have to stop. I’m no boy and I can’t be satisfied with the little you’re prepared to give.’

  ‘So now we understand each other.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I’ll stay out of your way if you’ll stay out of mine.’

  He smiled distantly. ‘We said that in the beginning, but it doesn’t seem to have worked.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘All right, you win.’ She came to a decision, realising that in the light of her discovered love for this man she couldn’t handle this situation any longer, if she ever could, which she doubted. ‘I’ll leave. Give me a day or so to get myself together and I’ll get out of your hair.’

  ‘Great.’ He closed the door softly behind him.

  * * *

  ‘Bobby looks happier now he’s back with his brothers and sisters,’ Caroline remarked, smiling up at Brian before looking back at the young kittens falling playfully over their mother.

  ‘I’m glad you came back today.’

  ‘I came to say goodbye,’ she said regretfully. ‘I’m leaving today or tomorrow.’ She would be genuinely sorry to say goodbye to Brian, she had enjoyed her times with him.

  Brian caught her by the shoulders. ‘But why are you leaving? I thought you were here on holiday.’

  ‘Not really.’ She pushed back her long swathe of hair. ‘I was just staying at the cottage for a few days. I—it’s—well, it isn’t working out, André and I sharing. We—we don’t get on.’

  ‘I see.’ He pursed his lips thoughtfully, opening the farmhouse door for her to enter the kitchen. I thought there was a little friction between you yesterday evening.’

  ‘Not a little—a lot. No matter how much I would like to do so André isn’t the sort of person I can ignore.’ Far from it! He didn’t just annoy her now, he was becoming part of her life, a part she didn’t want to give up. But she would! Once in London she would push him out of her life, pick up with the old crowd and carry on where she had left off. Well, she would give it a good try anyway.

  ‘But do you have to leave? You could—you could stay here with us,’ Brian suggested eagerly. ‘Eve would be glad of the company, and I—well, I—’

  She touched his hand gently. ‘Thanks, Brian, but no, thanks. I have to get back to London, I have people to see.’ Her father for one!

  ‘But you’ll come back?’

  ‘I don’t know, I doubt it.’

  She drove slowly back to the cottage, her thoughts solely on André Gregory. Somehow he had found his way into her heart, and she couldn’t understand how it had happened. They were either arguing violently or in each other’s arms, and surely that was no basis for love? And yet she had never felt this way about any man before, as if nothing they ever did together could be wrong in her eyes.

  She might have felt nervous of these feelings the night before, but she also knew that if André took her in his arms again she would react the same way. She was like butter in his hands, her head a mindless void, and her will-power nil.

  At least since her decision to leave he had been polite—very curt, but polite. Caroline had hoped that by today he might have changed his mind about wanting her to go, but his attitude gave no such indication. In fact the air had been so tense between them this morning that she had decided to visit Brian after lunch.

  The cold air hit her again as she got out of the car and she quickly locked up and let herself into the cottage. All was quiet inside, although she thought she heard a faint rustle of paper in the lounge. André was probably in there; should she go in and disturb him or not? Oh hell, why not! She was leaving soon anyway.

  He was seated at the table, papers strewn out before him. ‘You’re working?’ she asked politely.

  His look was scornful. ‘It would appear so.’

  She made an effort not to be angry. ‘I thought you were here to rest.’

  ‘I am, but this work couldn’t wait, hence Sylvia’s phone call last night.’ He sat back. ‘I’ve finished now.’ He began to collect up the papers.

  ‘You don’t have to clear away because of me,’ she told him airily. ‘I promise not to sneak a look at any of your papers.’

  ‘You wouldn’t find out anything even if you did. And I was packing up anyway. I have to get these things off to my secretary today.’

  ‘I—I’ve been over to see Brian this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘Mmm, I went to say goodbye.’

  He appeared preoccupied with his papers. ‘You already told me you were leaving.’

  ‘So I did.’ She was hurt by his casual attitude, but made an effort not to show it.

  André picked up his attaché case and began to put away his papers. ‘So obviously you would want to see Wells before you leave.’

  Caroline watched his unhurried movements, noting vaguely the gold initials on the side of his attaché case. A.G.F. She looked again, it definitely said A.G.F.’ she wasn’t mistaken. She licked her lips. ‘Your case,’ she indicated it.

  ‘Mm?’ At last he looked up.

  ‘The initials on the attaché case, they aren’t yours,’ she stated.

  André looked down at the lid. ‘They aren’t?’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head.

  ‘But they are.’

  ‘They can’t be, your name is André Gregory. How can they be A.G.F.?’

  ‘Quite easily. André Gregory isn’t my full name.’

  ‘It isn’t?’ she had a terrible feeling of foreboding, as if she wasn’t going to like his answer to her next question. ‘What is your full name?’

  ‘André Gregory Fortnum,’ he stated calmly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘GREG FORTNUM!’ The name came out in a gasp.

  He carried on tidying away his papers, not realising the bombshell he had dropped in her little world. ‘Does it matter?’ He shut the case with a snap, coming over to sit in the chair facing her own.

  Did it matter! Caroline had gone first cold and now hot, sick and now strangely empty. This man was Greg Fortnum, the man her father had suggested she marry, the man she had come here to get away from. She felt slightly hysterical. For five days she had been sharing a cottage with the dreaded Greg Fortnum! And her father had known that! She looked sharply at the man opposite her; had he known all the time that he was living with Caroline Rayner? The completely relaxed look on his face said no.

  ‘Caroline?’ he probed gently. ‘Does it matter?’ he repeated.

  ‘Of course it matters! You’ve been deceiving me. Greg Fortnum indeed! And—and Matt kept quiet about it too.’ This was what angered her the most, her father’s deception. He had known all along that she was staying here with this man, and he had done nothing to warn her. If she found out this man had been deceiving her on purpose too…

  He shrugged. ‘I asked him to. I came here to relax, and I never seem to be able to do that as Greg Fortnum, so I just omitted the last part of my name. It worked.’

  ‘Yes, it did,’ she said crossly. ‘You had no right to do it.’

  ‘Why? It didn’t hurt anyone, and it gave me the privacy I badly needed.’ He gave a rueful grin. ‘And my plea of needing complete rest got me out of meeting Matt’s daughter—I’d do anything to get out of that.’

  So he had answered her question for her. He still didn’t know who she was. Now that she knew he was Greg Fortnum it didn’t seem very important to her either. Her father had played a dirty trick on both of them, and when she got back to London… ‘You really don’t like her, do you?’

  ‘I don’t like what I’ve heard of her,’ he corrected. ‘Never having met the young lady myself I can hardly give an accurate opin
ion, but I would say she’s a thoroughly spoilt little girl who ought to be brought down a peg or two.’

  ‘And you’re just the man to do it?’ she suggested sarcastically. Really, just where did he get his information!

  ‘I could be,’ he agreed. ‘In the right circumstances.’

  ‘I can imagine what they might be!’

  ‘Mmm. Well, now you know who I really am, does it make you feel any differently towards me?’

  ‘Oh yes, it makes it all the easier to leave. You see, you have quite a reputation, and it isn’t a good one. I’m not sure I would like it to become public knowledge that I’ve spent five days alone in a secluded cottage with the notorious womaniser Greg Fortnum.’

  ‘What difference does my name make? It would still have been five days spent alone with a comparative stranger, no matter what my name is. It didn’t seem to bother you before.’

  ‘Of course it bothered me,’ she said indignantly. ‘I just didn’t see why I should be forced to leave because of you. But you had to try and live up to your reputation, didn’t you?’ she added in a scoffing voice.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  She smiled. ‘All those moves, the pretence that with me it could have been different—it’s all a line to you. I bet you tell each new conquest the same rubbish.’

  André looked bored. ‘I don’t usually need to.’

  ‘I can imagine. Only this time it didn’t work. I didn’t like you before, André—Greg—oh, damn! But I like you even less now. Greg Fortnum!’ she finished in disgust.

  ‘André will do, it does happen to be my true name.’

  ‘Then why bother with Greg?’ she snapped.

  He shrugged. ‘It seems to be the name my business associates prefer, not so flowery as André, I should imagine. A few very close friends, and my family still call me André.’

  ‘Well, I don’t fit into either category, and have no wish to, so from now on I’ll call you Greg.’ Caroline turned her head away.