In the evening light, his face was all sharp planes and angles, the look so bleak that she felt chilled in spite of the tropical heat which defied the air-conditioning system. Her heart turned over. She knew only too well how vulnerable past hurts could make a person. The sting of Joshua’s rejection was fresh enough to make her guard her family secrets even from Slade.
How much more he had suffered through the loss of his sister and the break-up of his secure family life. ‘I’m sorry you feel love is a waste of time,’ she offered.
He tilted one ironic eyebrow. ‘I didn’t say it was a waste of time. Only that it’s better to be honest about one’s intentions.’
‘Total honesty? I have visions of you putting signs up—“For one night only”.’
‘Very funny. I don’t usually need signs, because I ensure that the feelings are mutual.’
What about in my case? she wanted to ask. It would imply that she saw herself as a candidate for his bed, which she most certainly didn’t. What did it matter if he preferred physical love to a deeper involvement? It wasn’t as if she was planning to get involved with him.
All the same, she couldn’t resist asking, ‘Don’t you find it lonely, just you and your principles?’
He frowned impatiently. ‘At least I’ll still have my principles come the morning.’
Sorrow for his bleak view of life overwhelmed her own sense of outrage and she fled to the bedroom to repair her make-up. Only thinking of her mother’s needs gave her the courage to face Slade again and accompany him to the hotel restaurant.
She was sure every eye must be upon them as they were shown to one of the best tables. Every time a waiter called her Mrs Benedict, she cringed, but made an effort not to show it in case Slade decided she needed another ‘lesson’ in loving. How she hated him for taking advantage of her like that.
Or was it herself she disliked for being so compliant? a small voice queried. She had enjoyed his kiss, had given herself up to it with all the abandon of which she was capable. What was worse, he knew it and was amused by her response.
Instead of making her task easier, Slade had made it almost impossible, she thought. How could she convince anyone she was a loving wife after this?
CHAPTER THREE
‘SLADE, darling. I was hoping to catch up with you here.’
A slight frown creased Slade’s smooth forehead as he rose to greet the woman who swept up to their table. Petite in both height and figure, she was stunningly beautiful with china-doll features under a cap of glossy black hair. The hands she extended ended in perfect oval nails which shone with emerald polish to match her vibrant green eyes.
Even before Slade made the introductions, Eden recognised her as Dana Drury, one of Tasmania’s best known television personalities and anchor of her own evening current affairs programme.
‘Dana, this is Eden Lyle, one of my top researchers,’ he explained, drawing Eden into the circle with an expansive gesture.
Dana’s cool green gaze rested on Eden for all of ten seconds as she murmured, ‘Pleased to meet you. You’re here to back up Slade for the conference, I suppose.’
Without waiting for an answer, she returned her attention to Slade. ‘Too bad I didn’t know you were arriving tonight, or I’d have given my camera crew the slip.’ She indicated a table on the far side of the room. The small group around it were watching with obvious interest.
He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic gesture. ‘Eden and I have business to discuss in any case.’
Another casual look glanced off Eden before dismissing her again. ‘I can hardly accuse you of being a workaholic when everyone knows I’m just as bad. But you will save me a dance later, won’t you?’
‘I’ll join the queue.’
‘Save the flattery. I’m a liberated woman, remember?’ All the same, she looked pleased as she returned to her table.
Slade sat down again and resumed eating his strawberry soufflé. ‘Sorry about the interruption. Dana and I are long-standing friends.’
Dana’s flirtatious manner had left Eden in no doubt as to what sort of friends they were. She was disturbed to find that the idea bothered her, although there was no reason why it should. ‘I notice you didn’t introduce me as your wife,’ she commented.
His eyebrows flickered upwards. ‘I didn’t think you’d want me to. Telling Dana would be like taking out an advertisement.’
‘But you don’t mind the hotel staff knowing.’ The observation was out before she could stop herself.
‘It’s part of their job to be discreet.’ His eyes hardened and the spoon came crashing down into the soufflé dish, making her wince. ‘Damn it, Eden, you’re giving me the third degree like a real wife. What’s going on here?’
She had begun to ask herself the same thing with no convincing answer. ‘I’m getting into the spirit of the role,’ she excused herself, hoping it was true.
‘You’re succeeding brilliantly enough to make me glad we’re not really married,’ he growled.
Annoyance stiffened her spine. He was the one who wanted this charade, not her. ‘We can end this any time you say,’ she snapped back. ‘I’ll be only too delighted to go on with my holiday free of any attachments.’
He fixed her with a sharp glare. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Is that what this is all about? You’re hoping to rile me enough to end the whole thing. Well, it won’t work. You gave me your word you’d see it through and I intend to hold you to it.’
She felt tired suddenly, whether with the long flight or the day’s surprises she couldn’t tell. ‘Then you’ll have to play your part more convincingly. Bob Hamilton will never believe we’re married if you keep snapping at me all the time.’
‘On the other hand, it may be even more convincing.’
Sadness welled up inside her. ‘You’re talking about your parents’ marriage, aren’t you?’
‘All three of them,’ he tossed off with apparent insouciance, but she wasn’t convinced.
‘My father left us when I was sixteen,’ she admitted softly. ‘It doesn’t have to sour you on the whole institution.’
Bitterness twisted his mouth into a thin line. ‘As long as you’re happy to live in an institution.’
Without consulting her, he ordered coffee and liqueurs, making it plain that the subject was closed. Yet it rankled with him, she sensed.
For her part, she knew only too well the heartache of losing a parent at a young age. She had gone through all the stages of wondering if she was to blame, trying to be a better person, then finally accepting that the fault, if there was one, lay outside herself.
Now she was losing her mother too, by degrees, which made it even more painful. If anyone had a right to be cynical about relationships, she had. Instead, she had clung to the love her family had shared before her father left them. When she thought about her childhood, it was to focus on the happy moments and try to forget the quarrels between her parents, and the sadness once her mother’s health began to decline.
She no longer blamed her father for leaving. Peggy had been as much at fault as he had. Never an easy woman to live with, she had perhaps already been suffering the early stages of her illness, unbeknown to her family. Besides, life was too short and precious to hold grudges.
She lowered her eyes against the cynicism in Slade’s glare and toyed with her liqueur glass. ‘We’re poles apart in our thinking. What made you choose me to convince your friend you’re married?’
He tossed back his liqueur and set the glass down. ‘It was partly convenience. When you told me where you planned to go for your holiday, I had a word with the travel agent to ensure he made this date available to you.’
Momentarily she forgot all about not holding grudges and shot him a look laced with venom. ‘You actually manipulated my choice of holiday dates so I’d pick the one which suited you?’
‘It suited you as well,’ he pointed out, unperturbed by her hostility.
‘What would you have done if
I hadn’t been available at all?’
‘Probably showed Bob the photos of Katie I brought with me, and tried to convince him she was my daughter, at home with her mother.’
Her throat dried as she cast about for words to describe his behaviour. ‘Do you always use people so callously to get what you want?’
He stirred cream into his coffee before answering. ‘You’re forgetting, this isn’t what I want, it’s what Bob Hamilton needs.’
‘You’d know best, I suppose?’
His strong fingers closed around the delicate coffee-cup until she feared he might crush it. ‘In this case, I do. He needs that money and won’t accept it any other way.’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Actually, I’m surprised that you find my methods so disagreeable, considering you use them yourself.’
A mouthful of coffee scalded her throat as she swallowed it too rapidly. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You don’t think you were using me when you failed to correct that erroneous employment application?’
‘I needed the job.’
‘As much as Bob needs this money, although for less laudable reasons, I suspect.’
‘Such as my overdose of ambition which you’ve already mentioned,’ she agreed tiredly. To him, they were two of a kind and she had no business criticising his methods. No wonder he chose her to pose as his wife. As he saw it, they were ideally suited.
‘Business talks over yet?’
Raising her eyes, she met Dana Drury’s feline gaze. ‘I’ve come to claim my dance,’ she announced with a sloe-eyed smile at Slade.
He got smoothly to his feet. ‘After our heavy discussions, Eden will probably welcome a break.’ With exaggerated gallantry, he offered his arm to Dana. ‘Will you do me the honour?’
The five-piece band struck up a waltz and Slade swung Dana expertly on to the dance-floor. They made a handsome couple, Eden was forced to concede. Seeing his dark head lowered to catch something Dana was saying, she felt a sharp pang but refused to recognise it as anything like jealousy. She was only pretending to be his wife, and then for a very select audience. She mustn’t get too carried away with her role.
Finishing her coffee, she wondered if she should retire to her room. The thought that Slade would be annoyed if she left without his concurrence almost prompted her to go until she remembered that they were sharing a suite. He would have no compunction about waking her to read the riot act if it suited him and he wouldn’t let a little thing like a lock stand in his way.
‘While our two celebrities are dancing, would you care to join me in a waltz? I’m Len Helliger, Dana’s sound recordist,’ the man who approached her table explained.
She hesitated. Slade would be even less pleased if she danced with another man. ‘I’m Eden Lyle,’ she reciprocated. ‘I was thinking about turning in.’
His smile was disarming. ‘One dance. It isn’t even midnight, Cinderella.’
Slade and Dana chose that moment to whirl past. Slade’s hand rested lightly against Dana’s back where her dress plunged almost to waist level. Dana’s head nestled against Slade’s shoulder and his head was bent to catch her murmured words. He didn’t look in the least like a married man. He wasn’t even trying to pretend.
‘Sauce for the goose,’ she muttered viciously and stood up.
Len Helliger gave her a puzzled look. ‘What’s that about sauce?’
Her smile was brilliant. ‘Nothing. I’d love to dance.’
The band had segued into another slow melody and she moved into Len’s arms, which closed around her. ‘You’re here for the conference?’ he asked as their steps blended easily.
‘I’m aresearcher with Benedict Communications,’ she offered, not wanting to lie. ‘Slade and I work together.’
His hand slid down her back as he adjusted his hold. ‘This is a working trip for me, too. Dana is covering the conference and where she goes, we go.’
Eden smiled up at Len, feeling guilty that she had only agreed to dance to get even with Slade for deserting her with such enthusiasm. ‘You must have a fascinating life.’
He bent his head so that his words were contained between them. ‘You want the truth? The travel gets boring after a while. All the hotels start to look alike, and we don’t get much time for sightseeing. I’d rather be at home with Linda and the kids.’
Startled, she tensed slightly. ‘You’re married?’
‘I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression by asking you to dance. I wasn’t coming on to you or anything, but you looked as lonely as I felt.’
Laughter bubbled dangerously near the surface but she suppressed it with an effort. If Slade knew she was dancing with a married man, it would confirm everything he suspected about her supposed lack of scruples.
‘It’s all right,’ she said sincerely. ‘I like to dance, too. It was kind of you to ask me.’
He looked relieved. ‘Maybe we can do this again some time.’
The music ended and they applauded before Len escorted her back to her table. Slade was already there although there was no sign of Dana. He stood up as they approached and shook hands perfunctorily with Len. ‘We’ve met in the line of duty,’ he said coolly.
As soon as Len left them, Slade’s expression became thunderous. ‘What the hell do you think you’re up to?’
The censure in his flashing eyes intimidated Eden but she was damned if she would let him see it. She had agreed to dance with Len partly to prove to Slade that he couldn’t have everything his own way. Faced with the consequences, she wondered if it was such a good idea.
‘Len invited me to dance and I agreed, since you were preoccupied with Dana,’ she said, unable to prevent a note of criticism creeping into her voice.
Something indefinable darkened his expression. ‘Jealous, Eden?’
‘Hardly,’ she denied with a toss of her head. ‘Since I don’t give a damn what you do, or with whom.’
‘Do you apply the same rules to yourself?’ he asked in a dangerously soft monotone.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You don’t care that you were dancing cheek to cheek with a married man?’
She hadn’t done any such thing, although she understood how it might have looked from Slade’s vantage-point. ‘It was only a dance. He was lonely for his wife and children.’
‘So you took advantage of the opportunity, despite our agreement not to flaunt yourself while you’re supposed to be my wife.’
It was too much. Red stained her cheeks as she reached for her evening bag. ‘I don’t have to listen to this, especially since you demonstrated precious few scruples when you were romancing Miss Drury just now.’
His mocking smile made her want to lash out. ‘So it did bother you, Eden.’
‘Not at all,’ she insisted although the tremor in her voice almost betrayed her. It didn’t bother her, did it?
Signing their bill with a flourish, he added a tip and stood up. ‘I’ll escort you to your room.’
‘There’s no need. I don’t plan to go out raging with the first man I meet,’ she assured him defiantly.
Nevertheless, he settled her wrap around her shoulders and kept his hand on her elbow as they negotiated the spaces between the tables to the bank of lifts outside the restaurant. His touch set alarm bells ringing up and down her nervous system and she held herself taut, trying to avoid any additional contact.
What a hypocrite he was, criticising her for enjoying an innocent dance with Len Helliger when he had all but made love to Dana Drury on the dance-floor. It was the typical male double standard, she reasoned furiously. If she really were his wife, he would probably keep her on the shortest leash while enjoying whatever freedoms he wanted for himself.
By the time they reached their suite, her anger was at fever pitch. She wanted to lash out at him, end this farce and catch the first plane home to Tasmania.
But he took the wind out of her sails as soon as the door closed behind them. Snapping on the light, he rea
ched for her wrap and dropped it on to a chair, then clasped her shoulders, turning her so that she was forced to meet his eyes.
‘Despite what you’re so plainly thinking, my dance with Dana was political rather than personal,’ he told her.
It wasn’t easy to marshal her whirling thoughts while he held her so close to him. ‘If that was political, every woman in the country would vote for you as Prime Minister,’ she managed, trying desperately to ignore the warmth of his palms against her shoulders.
He sighed deeply. ‘Dana is a powerful member of the media,’ he explained carefully. His eyes were dark and compelling. ‘I admit we’ve dated a few times but not seriously. Dana isn’t into serious relationships. Her career is too important to her. But it doesn’t do to make an enemy of her.’
‘I doubt if there’s any chance you will,’ she said shakily, remembering the closeness she’d witnessed between them.
His eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘You are jealous, aren’t you?’
Unable to escape from his grasp, she shook her head. ‘Of course not. But I resent you having one rule for yourself and another for me.’
‘Then I must disabuse you of any such notion. For the duration of this trip, you’re my wife and I shall act accordingly.’
A tremor swept through her. ‘H-how do you mean?’
‘I mean that the only woman I shall hold in my arms or favour with my kisses will be you.’
It wasn’t what she’d had in mind and he knew it, she thought, her brain fogged with conflicting emotions. ‘Surely w-we needn’t keep up the act in private?’ she stammered.
He lifted a hand and flicked a strand of hair away from her eyes, the gesture so intimate and proprietorial that the breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh, but it is. Tonight has shown me how important it is for us to stay in character all the time, in order to be convincing to Bob.’
Her throat dried and she swallowed convulsively. ‘You can’t mean we should...’
‘Make love?’ With a gently probing finger, he traced the outline of her mouth, then crooked the finger under her chin so that their eyes met. ‘It wouldn’t be difficult at all.’
Flight Of Fantasy Page 4
