Savage Interlude

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Savage Interlude Page 3

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘But not what you expected,’ he guessed shrewdly.

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘You’ll have to go to James and his friends if you want the ultra-modern decor they seem to find attractive. Personally, I think it’s hideous and totally unrelaxing.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘You agree?’ he looked surprised.

  ‘Certainly. You didn’t expect that, did you?’

  ‘No,’ he answered honestly. ‘But I like women who can surprise me.’

  The faintly intimate tone to his words reminded her of her reasons for being here. ‘Your likes and dislikes in women don’t interest me,’ she said sharply. ‘Nothing about you interests me.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to change that,’ he promised deeply, his green eyes caressing.

  Her lips turned back in a sneer. ‘I shouldn’t bother. I doubt my opinion of you will alter with better acquaintance.’

  ‘You never know,’ he taunted. ‘I’ve been told that I can be quite charming on occasion.’

  ‘I won’t ask what occasion,’ she said bitchily.

  He chuckled at the disapproval in her face. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Would you like me to show you your room?’

  ‘My room—! You can show me where I’ll be changing,’ she corrected. ‘But it certainly won’t be my room.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with you—yet. I’ll take you to the room now. I only have someone come in to keep the place free of dust and stock up the refrigerator, I manage everything else on my own,’ he continued conversationally, taking her down a short corridor and into a bedroom on the left-hand side. ‘I’m not in one place long enough to keep permanent staff.’

  Kate could well believe it; he always seemed to be reported to be moving to one location or another. She liked the bedroom, the huge four-poster bed, the Queen Anne furniture. What extraordinarily good taste this man had, quite surprisingly so.

  ‘This is lovely,’ she told him appreciatively.

  ‘Changed your mind about staying?’

  ‘No! Definitely not.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll leave you to sort out your clothing while I fix us something to eat.’

  She couldn’t imagine the worldly, sophisticated Damien Savage doing that and she protested loudly. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she lied.

  ‘Rubbish. I’m pretty good at cooking omelettes, light and fluffy as they should be,’ he added temptingly. ‘And I can have it ready in about five minutes.’

  She ignored the rumblings of her stomach. ‘Why should you want to get me a meal?’

  Damien Savage sighed. ‘I happen to be hungry myself. It’s quite some time since I last ate.’

  ‘Oh well.’ Kate turned away to begin taking out her gown for the evening. ‘In that case I might as well join you. I’d love an omelette.’

  ‘With salad?’

  ‘With salad,’ she agreed.

  She didn’t need to turn to know he had left the room, she just sensed it. This was the strangest day she had spent since the day she had suddenly been introduced to James’ unusual but interesting life. Strange, because a few hours ago she hadn’t even met Damien Savage; she had had the usual girlhood dreams about him a few years ago, but now she was actually in the bedroom of his apartment. Her immature daydreams had never taken her this far.

  She hung up her dress on a hanger she found in the closet. It was a black silk gown, so it hadn’t creased too much in the case. An hour or so on a hanger should ensure that it had no creases at all.

  Dinner was ready for her when she came into the kitchen a few minutes later. A place was set for her at the breakfast bar and she sat down without a word. Damien sat next to her and they ate in silence.

  He heaved a sigh of satisfaction as he drank the last of his coffee. ‘Right,’ he stood up. ‘I’ll go and shower and leave you to clear this away.’

  ‘You’ll what?’ Kate looked at him in amazement, pushing back a stray wisp of hair that had escaped her topknot.

  ‘You heard me. I’m not going to wait on you all evening.’ He stopped at the door. ‘And wear your hair loose tonight,’ he ordered.

  ‘I will not!’ She faced him, a slender defiant figure in her fitted trousers and blouse. ‘I hardly ever leave my hair free.’

  ‘For me you will,’ he promised softly. ‘I love longhaired women. How long is it?’

  ‘Almost down to my waist,’ she told him sulkily. ‘And I don’t want to be classed with your women!’

  ‘I don’t have any women at the moment,’ he answered with some amusement. ‘Only a little girl that I’m finding more desirable every moment I’m with her. I like females that answer me back,’ he surprised her with this disclosure, ‘and you do little else.’

  ‘If I’d realised that I would have been so nice to you you would have longed to get away.’ The golden flecks were more noticeable in her wide brown eyes. ‘I wish I’d known!’

  ‘Too late,’ he laughed huskily.

  Left alone in the kitchen, Kate had little choice but to wash the dishes and tidy them away. By the time she had finished Damien was back, dressed only in a black silk robe that reached just above his knees, his strong tanned legs bare beneath its short length, and the V-neckline showing her the thick dark hair that grew on his brown chest. He had obviously shaved, and droplets of water still glistened in his hair where he had showered.

  He watched her over the flame of his lighter as he lit the long cheroot in his mouth, smoke drifting about the. room. ‘Your turn,’ he said softly, his green cat-like eyes never leaving her face.

  She was disconcerted by his complete unselfconsciousness at his almost nakedness, her nostrils appreciating the aroma of the cheroot. ‘I—er—couldn’t you have dressed before coming back in here?’ she demanded defensively.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Why should I? I live here.’

  ‘Yes, but—but I’m here.’

  ‘So? I’m wearing more now than James was this afternoon, and yet you didn’t appear shocked then.’

  ‘That was different, and you know it,’ Kate accused. ‘Now we’re alone, and you—well, you aren’t dressed.’

  Damien gave a half smile. ‘Come on, honey, I’m quite adequately clothed, and you’re just wasting time. It’s seven-thirty already.’

  ‘All right, I’ll shower and change. And for goodness’ sake get dressed!’

  The smoke wafted about his head. ‘I intend to—in my own good time.’

  Kate moved to the door, but he blocked her exit. Her eyes were riveted to the dark hairs on his chest and she couldn’t raise her eyes any higher, fearing the mockery in his eyes. ‘Will you let me pass, please?’ Her voice was a husky whisper and she cursed herself for her timidity. But he was so overpowering, so essentially male.

  He moved slightly aside, but not far enough for her to pass through without touching him, and she didn’t want to do that. ‘Go ahead,’ he encouraged, smiling tauntingly.

  Kate set her lips determinedly and brushed past him, her body coming into full contact with the hard muscle of his. She recoiled away from him instinctively, hating herself for her weakness. She walked hurriedly to the room Damien had given her to use, closing the door firmly behind her.

  God, how he unnerved her! Much as she hated to admit it, it was an inescapable fact. She had met men like him before, arrogant, darkly attractive, but none of them had ever affected her as he did. She was constantly aware of him, mainly in anger, but sometimes as a vibrant attractive man who demanded attention unconsciously.

  And he was attractive, much more handsome than most of the men who appeared in his films. He could almost have been a film star himself, in fact he had been at one time, until directing had interested him more. And he was good at his job, excellent in fact.

  But he frightened her; she wasn’t up to the sophisticated games he seemed to be constantly engaged in. She didn’t need two guesses as to his interest in her, but under James’ guardianship she wasn’t even allowed to date the same man more t
han a few times, let alone indulge in promiscuous affairs. But she felt sure Damien Savage didn’t plan a platonic friendship between the two of them, it wasn’t his way at all.

  What would she do if he tried anything like that on her? What could she do? She certainly wouldn’t give in to him. She couldn’t do that, although she was sure he could be very persuasive.

  A warm shower and fresh make-up and she felt more confident of herself, and once she had on the figure-hugging black dress she felt a hundred per cent better. It was a strapless dress, finishing abruptly as it rested on her firm uptilted breasts, smoothing down over her narrow waist and slender hips. It suited her and she felt good in it.

  Damien was in the lounge when she came out of the bedroom, looking handsome and sophisticated in black trousers accompanied by a blue velvet dinner jacket, the startling white shirt he wore opened casually at the neck. His eyes slowly travelled up her body, pausing momentarily on her breasts with a probing insolence, finally passing on to her face. She saw him frown in the subdued lighting of the room. ‘Your hair,’ he snapped, his eyes narrowed. ‘You didn’t listen to what I said earlier.’

  ‘I did.’ She held herself stiffly. ‘I just didn’t want to do it.’

  ‘Do it now,’ he commanded.

  ‘No,’ she shook her head.

  ‘Do it, Kate, or I’ll do it myself.’ He made a threatening step towards her. ‘And I probably won’t be as gentle as you would.’

  She put up a self-conscious hand to her confined hair. ‘It looks a mess when it’s loose,’ she said uncertainly, put off by the determined glint in his eyes.

  ‘I mean it, Kate.’

  ‘But—but we’ll be late! It’s already eight-thirty, the car will be downstairs.’

  ‘It can wait, and so can the party for that matter.’ He stood firm, and she knew by the arrogant lift of his head that he wasn’t going to relent.

  She threw down her evening bag angrily on to a chair, beginning to pull out the pins that secured her hair. ‘Oh, all right! But don’t blame me if you feel like drowning me halfway through the evening. This hair of mine seems to have a life of its own when it isn’t confined.’ She ran her hand through the long loose waves of her red hair, tumbling it down her back like a shimmering flame.

  Damien’s eyes never left her. ‘Beautiful!’ he breathed softly. ‘I’m even more convinced that you’ll be photogenic.’

  Kate was brushing her hair in long vigorous strokes, feeling it crackle with healthy life. ‘I’m not going to that screen test, you know,’ she tugged viciously at a tangle.

  ‘Why not? Frightened I meant it about coming back to my apartment for the night?’ he mocked her.

  ‘Not at all,’ she answered with a confidence she didn’t feel. ‘I’m just not interested in what people call stardom.’

  He raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘You’re not?’

  Kate shook her head, her hair now a silken curtain of fire down her back, the red and gold lights in it brought into more prominence by the black of her gown. ‘Definitely not.’

  Damien moved forward with a triumphant laugh. ‘I think I’m really going to like you, Kate Darwood. The most beautiful hair I’ve ever laid eyes on and no bid for stardom! You sound like perfection to me,’ he bent his dark head with a suddenness that took her by surprise, catching her off guard as he claimed her lips possessively with his own.

  For one mesmerised moment Kate let him kiss her, even allowed herself to respond for a few short seconds, before good sense took over. She was here alone with this man in his apartment, completely at his mercy if he should choose to take advantage of the situation.

  She fought against him, wrenching herself out of his arms. ‘Stop that! What do you think I am!’

  ‘I already told you that.’ He watched her with amusement, glancing at his wrist watch. ‘You’re very beautiful. And we’re going to be very late if we don’t leave now.’

  ‘I’ve been ready for the last ten minutes,’ she said crossly.

  He handed her her bag. ‘And I’m ready to leave now.’

  Kate sat bolt upright on her side of the car, the soft music from the cassette doing little to soothe her nerves. How dare he kiss her like that, as if he had a perfect right to do so? James had much to answer for, letting this man calmly walk off with her as if she were an object, and she would tell him so when she got back home. When she got back …

  ‘Are you annoyed because I kissed you?’ He gave her a sideways glance.

  ‘You had no right to do it,’ she obstinately refused to look at him, even though his eyes compelled her to.

  ‘I had the right of a man attracted to a beautiful girl,’ he told her haughtily. ‘Or do you save all your kisses for the faithless James?’

  ‘I don’t save any of them for him.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s as well. He’s very keen on Sheri, you know.’

  Kate did know. At first she had felt a sisterly jealousy towards the American girl, her own new-found relationship with James still so fresh that she felt a certain possessiveness towards him. But she had found that his obviously growing affection for the other girl made no difference to his loving care regarding herself, and so instead of being a hated enemy Sheri had become the female confidante she badly needed.

  ‘I do know,’ she said tightly.

  ‘And it doesn’t bother you?’

  ‘Why should it? I’m not his keeper. He’s a grown man, old enough to choose his own friends.’ She hoped they were nearly at Matt Strange’s, at least among the crowd that were likely to be there he wouldn’t be able to keep taunting her in this arrogant way of his.

  ‘As long as he comes back to you you don’t particularly care.’

  ‘Now look, Mr Savage, I don’t particularly care for your accusations, and if I could I would put you right about a few things. Unfortunately it’s not up to me.’

  Damien had turned the car off the main road, down a short narrow lane, and into a long gravel driveway. The mansion at the end of the driveway was bathed in bright lights, and there seemed to be people in every room as Kate looked in at the uncurtained windows. There were obviously curtains there to be drawn, but as the evening was so warm the windows and doors stood wide open. The noise coming from the building was tremendous, and from the amount of cars parked in the large driveway she would say there were hundreds of people here, just what she needed to avoid this man.

  He parked the car behind another one equally expensive and sleek. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he mocked. ‘You’re secretly married to James.’

  ‘Something like that,’ she nodded.

  ‘Which means you aren’t married, which also means I don’t give a damn about St Just and the hold he has over you—’

  ‘There is no hold over me!’ she cut in.

  ‘Which means,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘I intend to have you for myself.’

  ‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Her eyes widened.

  ‘You can’t be that innocent. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want you. St Just knew it, that’s why you’re here with me now, and you know it too, don’t you?’ His look was caressing.

  ‘And do you get everything you want?’ The question came out huskily; she was affected by the look in spite of herself.

  ‘Usually.’ One strong hand caressed her creamy cheek, touching and parting her soft lips. ‘Am I going to get you?’

  ‘No,’ she answered firmly, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. She found it hard to articulate at all, that hand causing strange sensations in her inexperienced body. What had James done, allowing her out with this—this rake! This man emitted sex-appeal without any conscious effort on his part, the heat of his body and the smouldering look in his green eyes enough to turn her legs to jelly.

  He moved slightly, bringing his body up close against hers, their two heartbeats sounding as one. ‘Are you sure about that?’ His breath ruffled the hair at her temple, the smell of his aftershave and the cheroots he smoked invading h
er nostrils to make her aware only of him.

  Kate felt mesmerised by the sleepy passion she could see in his eyes, dragging her own gaze away with effort. ‘I—I think so,’ she answered breathlessly.

  Damien gave her one last lingering look before he straightened, opening his car door to come round to her side of the car and help her out of the low vehicle. ‘Then you’re going to be wrong,’ he promised softly against her ear, towering above her in the evening’s fading light.

  ‘I am?’ she squeaked.

  ‘You are.’ He took her elbow to guide her through the open front door of the mansion and into what seemed to be a lot of raised voices, chinking of glasses, and very loud music.

  Everywhere Kate looked there were people, most of them known to her vaguely from James’ parties. The laughter and chatter was overpowering and she felt sure that most of the people here were halfway to being drunk already.

  ‘Damien!’ They both turned at the sound of that husky voice. Diana Hall, the star of a popular television series, came over to greet him. ‘Damien, I’ve been waiting for you to call me,’ she pouted. ‘You said you would.’ Her short black curls bounced provocatively around her ears, her mouth was painted a vivid scarlet.

  Damien raised one dark eyebrow. ‘I did?’

  She giggled. ‘You know you did, the last time we were together. I remember we were—’

  ‘Diana, do you know Kate Darwood?’ he interrupted her, frowning darkly.

  Blue eyes focused on Kate, darkening with recognition. ‘Is James here this evening?’

  Kate knew that this was a spiteful dig on the other girl’s part, and she knew by the scowl on Damien Savage’s face that the dig had gone home. ‘No,’ she replied softly.

  Those narrowed blue eyes turned on Damien. ‘Have you been doing a little kidnapping of your own, Damien?’ she taunted. ‘I always thought you despised James’ association with a girl young enough to be his daughter.’

  The glitter in those green eyes was the only sign that he was at all angered by the last remark. ‘I’m hardly old enough to be Kate’s father,’ he returned smoothly. ‘Her uncle perhaps, but as that isn’t the way I think of her I don’t think it applies.’

 

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