by Kay Thorpe
‘Thank you.’
Michael senior rose to his feet. ‘Splendid.’ He crossed the room and opened the door.
She contained her anger…barely, as she returned to her office.
How long would it take for the news that she was Lianne Benedict to circulate? A day…two?
Right on top of that came the silent query…did it matter?
If anyone was sufficiently diligent they could access back copies of New York newspapers and photographic detail for themselves. It was all there…the marriage, high profile social events, reported gossip and, she imagined, their separation.
However the anger rode with her during the drive home, and by the time she entered the apartment she was shimmering with it.
Tyler was nowhere in plain sight, but she could hear the shower running. Within seconds she deposited her laptop, sent her bag after it, and strode down to the bedroom.
The door leading to the en suite bathroom was open, and she crossed to the shower stall, flung back the fitted glass door and launched into verbal attack.
‘How dare you?’
His wet naked frame was a distraction she didn’t need, and she tilted her chin and speared those devilishly dark eyes with her own. If looks could kill, he’d be dead.
‘You’re accusing me of something?’
Tyler’s drawled amusement was the living end, and she reached on to the lintel for the plastic bottle of shampoo and threw it at him.
‘As if you don’t know!’
His expression didn’t change, although his eyes dilated and became very dark. ‘Come join me if you want to play.’
‘Like hell.’
‘Explain, or I won’t give you a choice.’
Her chin tilted. ‘Try it.’
He was way too swift. One second she was regarding him with belligerence the next she was hauled in beneath the pulsing water.
‘Tyler! My shoes…my clothes—’ She broke off and hit him, only to have him grasp both her hands in one of his as he proceeded to undress her.
‘Stop it!’
Tyler paid no heed until every last vestige of clothing lay tossed in a sodden heap on the tiled floor.
‘Now we’re even.’
‘That’s a good suit!’
‘It’s replaceable.’ His voice was a silky threat that did little to cool her fury.
‘I hate you.’
Liar.
Heat swept through her veins, flaming each sensory nerve-end until her whole body felt as if it was on fire.
How could she be so angry one minute, yet so sensually alive the next? It was maddening, and at that moment she hated her own traitorous body almost as much as she hated him.
Tyler smoothed the hair back from her face and cupped her chin. ‘Shall we start over?’ His eyes held an indefinable quality she chose to ignore. He’d turned so the water flowed down his back, and she dragged her eyes away from the beads of water gathering on his chest and shot him a glittering look.
‘You could have told me you intended to enlighten Michael senior about the marriage.’
‘So you could delay it?’
Her lips tightened and her eyes became sapphire-blue shards. ‘It’ll be all over the office tomorrow.’
‘And that’s a problem…how?’
‘I’ve led a quiet existence for the past few months. No hassles, no drama, no gossip to contend with.’ It had been so peaceful without the media hounds baying at her heels, flash bulbs popping as they demanded a statement. She’d never felt so naked, so intensely vulnerable in her life. There was no way she wanted to tread that path again.
‘Any gossip will be minimal.’
‘Sure!’ Her voice held infinite scorn. ‘And cows fly over the moon.’
‘I’ve issued a press statement announcing our reconciliation.’
Disbelief robbed her features of colour. ‘You’ve done what?’
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw. ‘It’s done.’
‘Retract it.’
‘The media have done their homework.’ Tyler watched the gamut of emotions in her expressive eyes. ‘They intended printing an exposé in tomorrow’s newspaper edition.’ His gaze was steady, watchful. ‘Damage control and a brief reconciliation announcement seemed a preferable option.’
Lianne had no difficulty imagining just how the original article would have run. It was all about selling copy, and the more sensational the spin, the more people would part with their cash to read the details.
‘I see,’ she said stiffly. ‘Have you considered what my family will think? My friends? How do I explain a media-expedient reconciliation that isn’t really a reconciliation?’
‘We made love all through the night. What was that?’ Tyler queried quietly. ‘Just good sex?’
Maybe the first time, because they couldn’t help themselves. But after that?
Lianne swallowed the sudden lump that rose in her throat. The sex had always been good. Better than good. A skilled lover, he knew how to please, and considered her pleasure before his own. So instinctively attuned, it was almost as if he was the other half of her.
‘Slaking a mutual need.’
‘You think so?’
Thinking was part of the problem. She’d done nothing but think since she escaped from New York. Convincing herself she’d made the right decision…the only decision that would ensure her emotional survival.
She’d been doing just fine until he had re-entered her life. Well, maybe not fine, but OK. From the moment she’d discovered him in her apartment, she’d descended into an emotional wreck. Aware, so damnably aware there could never be any other man for her, but him.
He was the very air she breathed. Everything she needed. All she could want.
‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you, have children with you.’ He shaped her face and held it. ‘Grow old with you.’
The breath caught in her throat and her eyes clung to his as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.
His hands shifted, one to cup her nape while the other slid down her back and urged her close as he deepened the kiss into something so incredibly erotic she became lost.
It seemed an age before he lifted his head, and she could only stand there resting against him as she fought to regain a sense of reality.
Tyler held her and gently stroked her back, loving the satiny feel of her skin, its softness, and the scent of her.
Then he lifted her chin and met her bewildered gaze. ‘You want to lose this? Everything we are together?’
Emotion shuddered through her body. The answer was so incredibly simple…so right. ‘No.’
He brushed his lips against her forehead, then trailed a path down to the edge of her mouth. ‘Let’s get out of here, hmm?’
‘Five minutes,’ Lianne murmured as she reached for the soap, only to have it taken from her hand as he gently lathered her skin.
Afterwards he snagged a towel and fastened it round his hips, before catching up another to pat the moisture from her skin. When he was done, she returned the favour, applied the hair-drier, then she followed him into the bedroom and pulled on clothes.
‘Hungry?’
‘For food…or you?’
‘Both. It’s just a matter of which comes first.’
Lianne pretended to consider. ‘Food.’
‘Order in, or eat out?’
It would be fun to add anticipation to the mix, to choose a small, intimate restaurant where the lighting was dim, the food divine, sample a little wine, feed each other, knowing that at the end of the evening they’d come home and make love.
‘Out. I know just the place.’
Jeans, stiletto-heeled boots, a slim-fitting jacket, her hair swept into a loose knot at her nape, a touch of make-up, and she was ready.
Tyler matched her jeans, added a polo shirt and jacket.
‘It’s not far,’ she assured as they rode the lift down to the basement car park. They took his Porsche, drove several blocks, and sli
d in to the kerb a few doors from a small French-style restaurant where they ordered superb wine, crusty bread and a magnificent veal dish with an assortment of artistically arranged vegetables.
There was a sense of déjàvu in the sharing of their meal, almost as if they’d gone back to the beginning of their relationship and were starting over.
Knowledge that hadn’t existed before, a trial by fire from which they’d emerged intact. Wiser, perhaps, and more aware of human frailties. Less likely to take love for granted.
‘Want to share?’
Lianne focused on Tyler’s features and felt her heart turn over. For a few seconds she felt her eyes shimmer with the power of her emotions, then her lips curved into a winsome smile.
‘Reflecting a little. How and where we met.’ The magic, the electrifying sense of cataclysmic passion that had gone right through to her bones…the instinctive knowledge that this man was the one. The only one.
‘No other woman came close.’ He didn’t touch her, he didn’t have to. ‘Not then, not since.’
She wanted so much to believe him. There was one question she had to ask. ‘When will you return to New York?’
Tyler studied her expressive features and divined each one of them. ‘Soon. With you. To visit family. Something we’ll do together a few times each year.’ He saved the one that would please her the most until last. ‘I intend Melbourne to be our home base.’
‘You’re serious?’
‘Serious,’ he assured. ‘I’m negotiating office space. Meantime, all I need is an internet connection, my laptop and cellphone.’
‘I think I love you,’ Lianne said fervently, and heard his teasing drawl in response.
‘You mean you’re not sure?’
She tilted her head to one side and pretended to consider his query. ‘Perhaps I should show you.’
She did it to him every time. The laughing smile, the flash of white even teeth, the wicked gleam in her vivid blue eyes.
‘I imagine you want dessert?’
Her smile widened. ‘And coffee.’
‘Determined to make me wait, hmm?’
‘It’ll be worth it,’ she promised.
It was, Tyler reflected several hours later. His groin tightened in memory of her touch, the feminine witchery she employed to drive him wild. Beyond wild, he added with a self-deprecatory twist of his mouth as he recalled the primitive torment.
He had had his revenge, with a provocative tasting that had turned exquisite torture into raw desire…and passion which had shattered them both.
‘Hmm, your heartbeat just picked up,’ Lianne said huskily. ‘Lustful thoughts?’
Tyler let his fingers continue their drifting up and down her spine. ‘You’ll be the death of me.’
She let her hand slide down to his arousal and gently stroked it. ‘Not for a hundred years.’ Her fingers trailed up and settled on his shoulder, then she closed her mouth over one male nipple. ‘You want to take a bubble bath?’
‘Minx. Sleep first.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE reconciliation item appeared on the social page of the morning newspaper, together with a small photograph taken at the Charity Benefit and filched from the media files.
With luck it would pass unnoticed by most, Lianne determined as she entered the exalted offices of Sloane, Everton, Shell and Associates.
She greeted the girls manning Reception and went directly to her office on the mezzanine level.
It was work as usual, although not on Tyler’s property portfolio. A file sat on her desk with detailed instructions from Michael senior, and she perused it carefully, making notations as she went.
Mid-morning there was a conference call with Michael senior and the client, and she had barely returned to her desk when her phone rang.
‘Aren’t you the secretive one?’ Michael junior’s voice held cynical amusement.
She’d play it cool. ‘Michael,’ she acknowledged. ‘I’m busy right now. Can I get back to you?’
‘I wanted to offer my congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Never stood a chance, did I?’
Honesty and tact didn’t always go together, but she tried. ‘I chose not to date anyone.’
‘I imagine you’ll resign.’ 162
‘I have another call waiting.’ She didn’t, but it enabled her to cut the connection.
Minutes later her cellphone beeped with an incoming text message. Zoe. Suggesting lunch at the usual café at one. It took only seconds to key in an affirmative reply.
The world, her particular world, seemed a brighter place. The sun shone, and there were no hovering clouds to dull the day, either literally or figuratively.
Zoe was already seated and there were two cups of steaming coffee reposing on the table.
‘I ordered so we won’t be interrupted,’ Zoe declared as Lianne slid into the chair opposite. ‘Give, girl,’ she commanded with a wicked grin. ‘What’s with the reconciliation announcement?’
‘It’s partly damage control.’
Zoe’s eyes narrowed. ‘A media diversion?’
‘In a way.’
‘OK. So where does this leave you?’
‘I’m…working on it.’
‘Sounds promising.’
‘Maybe.’ It was too new for her to want to talk about it with anyone just yet.
Zoe gave a dejected sigh. ‘Not going to tell me, are you?’
A waitress delivered their salads, and Lianne picked up her fork, toyed with the various greens, then she speared a segment of smoked salmon.
Lianne opted for partial truth as she met Zoe’s intent gaze. ‘My aim in leaving New York was to heal and move on with my life.’
‘Now Tyler is messing with those plans.’
Wasn’t that the truth!
‘Meanwhile, you’re enjoying the sex.’
It was more than that, except she wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone just yet. ‘Is that so bad?’
‘Sweetheart,’ Zoe derided gently, rolling her eyes. ‘Give me a break!’
An insistent burr sounded and Zoe retrieved her cellphone. The call was brief and her expression held regret as she cut the connection. ‘I’m going to have to leave in a few minutes.’
‘That’s OK. Eat,’ Lianne bade. ‘Lunch is on me.’
‘That’s not how it works.’ Within seconds Zoe placed a note on the table and it was Lianne’s turn to roll her eyes.
‘Stubborn.’
Zoe finished the last of her salad, drained her coffee, then offered an irrepressible grin. ‘Right back at you.’
‘How are things progressing with Joachim?’
Zoe’s expression sobered a little. ‘A little edgy.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Her concern was genuine.
Zoe checked her watch. ‘Gotta go.’ She stood, did the air-kiss thing, and lightly touched Lianne’s shoulder. ‘Take care.’
‘Always. You, too.’
Lianne managed to leave the office at five that evening, dealt with peak hour traffic exiting the city, and she entered the apartment with little more than three-quarters of an hour in which to shower and dress.
The thought of attending a dinner party didn’t hold much appeal. Yet Tyler had accepted the invitation and she could hardly opt out, given the media announcement of their reconciliation.
She was about to step out of the shower when she heard the front door close, and within minutes Tyler entered the en suite bathroom.
Lianne sent him a dark glance. ‘There is another bathroom.’
His voice was an amused drawl. ‘I had hoped to share yours.’
‘Too late,’ she said succinctly as she wrapped a towel round her slender curves and tucked the edge between her breasts.
‘You could always join me.’
‘No,’ she retorted. ‘I couldn’t.’
The next instant she gave a startled yelp as he pulled her close and fastened his mouth over hers in a provocative kiss that almost persuad
ed her to change her mind.
‘What was that for?’
He framed her face and traced the outline of her mouth with one thumb. ‘To give you something to think about during the next few hours.’
Her expression was priceless, and without a further word he stepped into the shower stall, closed the door, and turned on the water.
Lianne selected a black classic-style dress, added a beaded jacket, stilettos, and swept her hair into a smooth chignon. Make-up received careful attention and she slipped on minimum jewellery.
Tyler stood waiting for her in the lounge, and her heart lurched at the sight of him. The impeccably-cut black dinner suit accentuated his height and breadth of shoulder, and she had no need to imagine the body beneath the fine tailoring. She knew it too well, the shape and feel of it, the hard ridge of muscle and sinew, the warm flesh.
Oh, get a grip, she chastised silently as they rode the lift down to the basement car park.
Tyler eased the Porsche on to street level and spared her a brief glance. ‘You’ll need to direct me.’
Eleanora Postlewaite, of the socially elite Postlewaites, resided in a mansion befitting her status in the old monied suburb of Toorak, and Lianne felt an onset of nervous tension as Tyler cut the engine.
‘Ready?’
She met his query with a graphic eye-roll. ‘To face the fray?’
‘Leave it to me to answer any questions.’
‘And that’s going to work? The social requirement for successful gossip-gathering is to divide and conquer,’ she alluded with wry cynicism.
‘Not if we appear joined at the hip.’
‘Ah, I’ll adopt the adoration strategy. Soft and dreamy and oblivious to everyone but you?’
‘It’s only a few hours.’
‘There are occasions when a few hours seem a lifetime.’
And this was definitely going to be one of them, Lianne determined as they were greeted at the door by no less than Eleanora herself, and welcomed with the enthusiasm usually reserved for very dear close friends.
Tyler’s reputation preceded him, Lianne granted silently as she accepted their hostess’s air-kiss.
One minute…two?
‘How lovely to read of your reconciliation.’
Lianne was out by one. Eleanora had waited three minutes before launching into the social news of the moment.
