by Helen Brooks
'Oh, yes.' She grimaced ruefully. 'You won't see me for dust as I race about, though.'
'I wouldn't bank on that.' He nodded at Mitch and the others, who had stopped work to watch the little scenario with purposely blank faces, and followed Reece and the rest of the party towards the door, stopping in the doorway as he turned back to her with a little exclamation. 'Hey, I forgot to ask your name.'
'Miriam Bennett.' As Reece loomed back over his shoulder she felt something akin to a giggle begin to surface and bit it back quickly. Here was one man who wasn't the least intimidated by Reece Vance's threatening coolness.
'Miriam…' He nodded slowly in approval. 'It suits you; very feminine.'
'If you're ready…?' As Reece almost pushed him out of the way and began to shut the door he sent Miriam a glance of cold fury that she was at a loss to understand. 'I'd carry on working if I were you,' he said tightly as he disappeared. 'It looks to me like there's still a lot to be done.'
'Ignorant pig!' She turned back to the others with an angry shake of her head as her cheeks burnt hotly. 'What on earth does he think we're going to do if not work?'
'The guy's under a lot of pressure,' Mitch said soothingly as he and Dave began to unfold one of the huge white linen tablecloths and lay it across the table that they were standing behind. 'I should imagine he works on a short fuse at the best of times, and having his house invaded by an army of strangers and turned upside down by us can't be much fun for the poor chap.'
'Huh!' Reece's cold face and tight voice had hurt her more than what he had actually said, but she forced herself to put it out of her mind as they began work again. Two or three days and she'd never see him again, so what did any of it matter?
The thought sent her heart plummeting to her feet as a great sense of desolation overwhelmed her. She had had the chance; to have mote of him, but where would his lovemaking have led in the end? To a broken heart. She didn't just want his body, she wanted much, much more, and giving herself to him would have meant that she was intrinsically linked with him; it would—that was just the way she was made.
She sighed deeply, unaware of Mitch's intuitive eyes watching her face. She couldn't have walked away from him when the time came for him to dismiss her and the whole thing would have got painfully messy, humiliating and embarrassing for them both. He would have guessed how she felt in time; she never had been very good at hiding her feelings. No. She had done the right thing, the only thing, but it hurt like mad. And she had the horrible feeling that it always would.
'Mim?' Mitch appeared at her side as the others worked at the far end of the hall. 'It could never work, you know. You do know that?'
'What?' Miriam turned to him as she felt herself flush bright red.
'It's obvious he fancies you,' Mitch said softly. 'And give me a bit of credit for having known you for the last twenty-five years. You've fallen for him, haven't you?'
'Mitch—' She stopped abruptly, not wanting to offend him as she noticed the look of deep concern on his face. 'I really don't want to discuss this, OK? There's no chance of my getting involved with him; death wishes aren't my style, all right?'
'You're sure about that?' Mitch asked quietly. She nodded quickly, her face bleak, and then sniffed dismally as her brother hugged her hard. 'Good girl.' He wagged his head as he imitated a line from one of their favourite TV programmes. 'You know it makes sense. And soon all this will just be history.'
'Yes.' He was trying to help but failing miserably, and she worked like a beaver for the rest of the day, forcing herself on until she was ready to drop.
Mitch and the others disappeared home just after five but she worked on until six in the kitchen, laying out the utensils and dishes needed to prepare the fresh salads and sauces, and then walked through to the flat for a long, hot bath and am early night.
She needed to be up at five the next morning, Mitch and the others were arriving at six, and by the end of tomorrow it would all be over. The agency staff had taken over in the main house—she knew that Mrs Goode had arranged a formal dinner for eight o'clock—but as far as she was concerned the only thing that held any appeal was her bed.
She lay for over an hour in the warm, soapy water, adding fresh bubbles whenever the others dispersed, and, after washing her hair, climbed out and swaddled herself in a huge bathsheet while she ate a simple meal of cheese on toast followed by fresh fruit. She felt exhausted and drained, but mercifully it seemed to have numbed her mind, and when she fell into bed, at just after eight, she sank immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep which made it all the more difficult to surface two hours later to the relentless knocking on her front door.
She stumbled through to the lounge after pulling her robe tightly round her, mote asleep than awake, and opened the door in a daze. 'Yes?' It took her a few seconds to focus and then she saw Reece's dark, angry face a few inches from her own. 'What's wrong?'
'Wrong?' He smiled nastily as be brushed past her into the flat without so much as a by-your-leave. 'Why should anything be wrong?'
'Reece!' She was instantly and furiously awake as she watched him walk through and give a cursory glance at the small bedroom before coming back into the lounge. 'What on earth do you think you're doing? I'm tired, I've got to be up early in the morning and I haven't got time to play guessing-games. What do you want?'
'I thought—' He stopped abruptly and she was surprised to see a dark stain of red colour on the high male cheekbones. 'Were you asleep?' he prevaricated flatly.
'Of course I was asleep.' She brushed her hair back from her face as she took in his big dark body in a formal dinner suit that made him look like all her Christmases rolled into one. 'And, for the third time, what's wrong?'
'It was just that—' He stopped again. 'Oh, hell…' He rubbed his hand across his face and looked at her with narrowed eyes. 'Donnie wasn't around and no one seemed to know where he was, and I just thought—'
'You thought he was here with me?' she asked in tones of absolute amazement. 'Why—?' She shook her head angrily. 'No, don't answer that. Surely you knew I wouldn't encourage a virtual stranger in here last thing at night? It's not even my flat, for goodness' sake.'
'You didn't do a bad job of encouraging him this morning,' he said tightly as he gazed into her angry violet eyes. 'From where I was standing it seemed the two of you were hitting it off just fine.'
'Well, you were obviously standing in the wrong place, then,' she snapped back furiously, 'And, anyway, what gives you the right to barge in here all guns firing without even checking your facts? I wouldn't dream of asking one of your guests in here. It would be totally unethical. I am your employee after all.'
'And that's why you wouldn't ask him in, because it's unethical?' he asked grimly as he scowled at her darkly.
'That and otter reasons.' She drew herself up proudly, although the effect was somewhat diminished by the voluminous towelling robe that had always been a couple of sizes too big.
'Like?'
'Like I don't know the man, I don't want to know the man, and I don't happen to be the sort of woman to put myself in a precarious position with someone I've just met,' she said angrily. 'For goodness' sake, Reece!' She shut her eyes for a moment as sheer hot rage flooded her limbs. 'What exactly do you think I am?'
'Gorgeous.' All the darkness had left his face as she had spoken and now the deep, husky quality of his voice sent her nerves jumping as she looked up into his eyes. 'Unbelievably gorgeous. What about someone you haven't just met?' he asked softly.
'What?'
'Would they be allowed in? Just for a cup of coffee?' he asked humbly. She stared at him suspiciously. Reece Vance breathing fire and damnation was one thing, but in this conciliatory, meek mood? He was ten times more dangerous.
'I don't think—'
'Just a cup of coffee and then I'll go,' he smiled disarmingly.
It was the smile that did it. She saw it so rarely that it melted her resistance like bright sun on ice, and she knew t
hat he'd won. He knew it too. His smile widened and he moved to close the door that was still open. 'I'll have mine black,' he said lazily as he sprawled out on the small sofa in the lounge. 'And I really am very sorry, Miriam. I just didn't want Donnie… bothering you in any way.'
'He hasn't,' she said shortly as she walked through to the kitchen and took a long, deep breath to calm her racing heartbeat. Dammit, she was playing with fire here.
This was a ridiculous situation and she should never have put herself in such a position—
'You look lovely when you've just woken up.' He had come to lean lazily against the kitchen door, watching her with keen, hooded eyes as she fumbled about in the cupboards for coffee and sugar. 'I knew you would.'
She must look a mess, she thought helplessly as she ignored his words and concentrated on the mundane. 'Is instant all right?' she asked flatly, keeping the tremor out of her voice with superhuman resolve. 'I haven't really got time to make proper coffee; I've got to be up very early in the morning.'
'Haven't we all…?' Her remark seemed to draw him back onto safer lines. 'Barbara's skittering about like a chicken with its head cut off, Mrs Goode is having one panic attack after another, my house has been invaded by aliens who seem to speak a totally different language from me—' He sighed deeply. 'I shall be damn glad when this wedding is over.'
When it's over? His words pierced her heart like a sword and she was desperately glad that her back was to him as she spooned coffee into two mugs and added sugar in hers with a shaking hand. 'I suppose you will,' she said carefully, when she could trust her voice again. 'It's never the most relaxed of times.' When it's over I shan't see you again, she screamed silently as she added water to the coffee and stirred vigorously. But you don't care; you've never really cared. How can you want it over?
She handed him his coffee when she turned round, and as they walked through to the lounge she warned herself for the umpteenth time to be careful. She had to keep this on a purely friendly level, she mustn't let him touch her—
'Sit down by me.' He patted the sofa as he flung himself down, but she smiled carefully as she seated herself on one of the chairs, sitting on the edge with her feet neatly together and pulling the robe firmly over her legs.
'Spoilsport…' He smiled lazily and her heart flipped over again. This was a seduction technique; it had to he. Two smiles in as many minutes wasn't natural for Reece! 'Where on earth did you get those things from, by the way?' he asked idly as he gestured towards her massive monkey slippers which were quite grotesque.
'Mitch.' She smiled her first natural smile since he had arrived. 'Ridiculous, aren't they?'
'Unusual.' He fiddled with his bow-tie and then set down his coffee-cup. 'Do you mind?' he asked mildly as he gestured towards the tight collar. 'This thing's killing me.'
'Of course not.' Oh, help, she thought silently.
He undid his collar and pulled the tie loose to hang down in two black strands as he opened the top few buttons of his shirt. She couldn't handle this, she really couldn't. She could just see dark, curling body hair at the top of his shirt where his chest was revealed, and as her stomach muscles clenched and a slow, sweet throb took over her pulse she was shocked at her body's animal response to his maleness. She wanted him—she wanted him so badly that she could taste it; she licked suddenly dry lips and took a quick gulp of coffee to ease her aching throat.
'You're very transparent.' His voice was thick suddenly, and husky, with a deepness that set her senses tingling. 'You're petrified I'm going to leap on you, aren't you—force you to the floor and have my wicked way with you?'
He thought that she was nervous? She breathed a sigh of relief and forced herself to look at him. It wasn't nerves that were strangling her voice and freezing her limbs but the knowledge that if the iron hold she had over herself slipped she'd fly at him and eat him alive.
'Not at all.' She smiled shakily.
'Little liar.' He eyed her mockingly. 'I can always tell the very rare occasions that you lie because it doesn't come naturally to you, does it? That's just one of the things that has amazed me about you, Miriam; I hadn't reckoned to meet someone like you in several lifetimes.' He laughed suddenly, but the sound was harsh in the quiet room. 'Looking like you do and still a virgin at twenty-five. Do you know that you are probably unique in the whole of London?' he asked with wry, caustic humour.
'I doubt it.' She blushed scarlet.
'You can trust me, you know,' he said after a long moment. 'I know you think I'm the lowest thing on two legs but I wouldn't take you against your will; not even I would stoop to that,' he added bitterly.
Against my will? She would have laughed out loud if it had been possible. Two seconds after he touched her it sure wouldn't be against her will, she thought with painful self-contempt.
'What is it exactly that you object to so strongly?' he asked softly, after another pause that she found impossible to break. 'I know on a sexual level we would be compatible; you know it too.'
'We're so different…' She couldn't believe how near she was to blurting out the truth; it was quivering on her tongue like a live thing, and only the knowledge that he would take her love and use it against her kept her from admitting the truth. He had told her that he didn't want to love a woman and she knew him well enough by now to know that what he didn't want to do, he didn't. He was cynical and cold and cruelly honest and he just wanted to get her into bed. Remember it> she told herself fiercely.
'Sunday's child can get on with anyone,' he reminded her lightly.
'Not really.' She glanced up at him suddenly. 'What day were you born on, Reece?'
'What?' He looked at her blankly for a moment and then shook his head slowly. 'A Wednesday, I think. Yes, a Wednesday.' He eyed her wryly. 'Is that good or bad?'
' 'Wednesday's child is full of woe'.' She took another long sip of coffee. 'I don't think Sunday is ready to meet Wednesday yet,' she said flatly as she placed her mug on the table by her side.
'Sunday doesn't know what it's missing.' He moved so swiftly that she didn't have time to object as he pulled her to her feet and into his arms, kissing her passionately as he moulded her into the hard length of him.
She shuddered helplessly as his warm lips moved down over her throat, their touch tantalisingly sensuous. Quite whether the robe fell apart or he moved it apart she wasn't sure, but as his mouth burnt on the soft swell of her breasts a moment later the pleasure she felt drowned all thoughts of protest.
'I want you, Miriam; I've wanted you from the first moment I set eyes on you.' His eyes were silver slits in the dark passion of his face. 'I can't think of anything else. I'm becoming obsessed with you and I hate feeling like it but I can't control it.'
She moaned deep in her throat as his mouth brushed satin-smooth skin in tiny, burning kisses as he moved the lace covering of her nightie under her breasts and explored their softness.
'I could have killed Donnie for looking at you the way he did,' he said huskily after a long moment, when he raised his head to look into her drowning violet eyes. 'Do you know that? I've never felt like that in my life.'
Because he'd never had anyone deny him what he wanted before? she asked herself painfully as she desperately tried to keep a hold on reality. It couldn't be anything more than that; he had told her so himself. And forbidden fruit was always sweeter; everyone knew that.
But then he took her mouth again, moulding her into the hard-muscled planes of his chest as he pulled her fiercely against him, and logic flew out of the window. Her eyes shut, she abandoned herself to the sweetness of the moment, his lips moving with devastating experience and hot sensuality over her eyes, her mouth and down to her throat and breasts, leaving a trail of fire and sensuous delight wherever they touched. She needed him, she wanted him, but most of all she loved him, and she knew that she would never love any man but Reece.
Surely it wouldn't be wrong to take what he offered, even if it had to last her a lifetime? And it might work. He
might just find that when the time came to let her go he couldn't—mightn't he?
The answer came coldly and steadily from somewhere deep within that still remained hers. He might give her the physical gift of his body for a few weeks, a few months, but that would be all. And it wouldn't be enough.
She pulled away from him abruptly, her body freezing. If he couldn't love her it would be like having the most wonderful present in the world wrapped up in shiny, glittering paper but with the proviso that it must never be unwrapped, never be enjoyed. A gift that was no gift at all.
'Please leave, Reece.'
'Leave?' He had taken a step back as she had jerked away, his eyes narrowing like twin blades on her face. 'Are you sure that's what you want?' He was asking about more than just the immediate moment and she knew it.
'Yes.' She raised her head carefully, her face white. 'I'm quite sure.'
And after he'd gone, banging the door behind him with unnecessary force, she realised that for the first time since she had met him she was sure. She had just sentenced herself to misery and loneliness, to a life that even now gripped her with panic, but she was still sure that it was the only way to go. It was over, finished, done with. Now all she had to do was learn to live with the annihilation of all her dreams and hopes.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning, after a few hours' troubled sleep, Miriam arose to find that nature had conspired to set Barbara's wedding day in a morning of exquisite winter beauty. As she glanced out of the window just before five the still, white world outside was transparently ethereal, the thick snow scattered with a million glittering crystals from the harsh frost during the night and the trees and bushes silent and motionless in the hushed, cold air.
The serene tranquillity was like a balm to her sore heart as she forced herself to eat a slice of toast and drink a cup of coffee before starting work, and when the others arrived, along with the extra staff they had taken on for the day, the sheer pace of work drove everything but the success of the next few hours out of her mind.
