CHAPTER ONE

by The Devil's Kiss (html)

  'To return your list of possible candidates for the sales job. Tell you which one I'd decided on.'

  'You could have left it in my mailbox,' she pointed out. 'You didn't have to ring the bell—especially when you thought I'd be out.'

  He began to toy with her hair, running his fingers gently through it. 'Somehow I didn't believe in that date. Was there one?'

  Miranda lowered her head, trying to hide behind her hair, but he lifted it out of the way so that he could see her face. She shook her head but didn't look at him. 'No.'

  'So you'd rather lie than go out with me?' But he didn't seem too angry about it.

  Her head coming up, Miranda tossed her hair away from him defiantly. 'Yes.'

  'Was making love with me so abhorrent to you, then?' Warren asked, his voice hardening a little.

  She went to stand up but he caught her arm and held her still. Angrily she turned to him. 'Yes, of course it was. I'm not cheap. I don't sleep around.'

  'I know that.'

  'How can you know?' she said crossly. 'For all you know I might—'

  Lifting a finger, he put it on her lips. 'A man can tell. And I only have to look at you to see how fresh and unspoilt you are.'

  Her eyes widened as she gazed into his face. Then Miranda lifted her hand to pull his down, but she didn't let go of it. 'You said you were experienced,' she reminded him, adding with difficulty, 'Does that mean that you have a steady relationship with someone?'

  'Is that what you think?' He shook his head. 'Not now, no. I did live with a girl for a while but we agreed to part. I'm completely heart-free,' he told her lightly.

  Miranda frowned, wondering why, then, he had been so angry when he'd woken from their night together. She was almost on the point of asking him, but her parted lips were taken by his as Warren bent to kiss her deeply.

  She was unable to resist him, not that she tried very hard. From the first moment that he began to kiss her she was filled with an ache of yearning so strong that she was overwhelmed by it. Her arms went round his neck and her mouth parted under his as he explored the softness within. Her response roused him almost instantly to passion and he bore her back against the settee, his mouth leaving hers to rain tiny kisses on her throat and the long column of her neck. Miranda gasped and gave a little moan of frustrated desire, her fingers gripping the material of his jacket.

  His mouth found hers again, hungrily, compel¬lingly, while his hand went to the buttons of her blouse and then pushed it aside. Warren lifted his head to look at her, his hand cupping her breast, then bent to kiss nipples that were already sensitive and inflamed. Miranda cried out on a long note of exquisite pleasure. She threw back her head, mouth parted, eyes closed. Her hands went to his head, holding him there, her breath panting and un¬steady. Oh, God, she never wanted this to stop. But then Warren lifted his head to stare at her, his eyes dark with scarcely controlled desire. 'Miranda, I—,

  Quickly she put her mouth over his. 'Don't talk,' she breathed. 'Please don't talk.'

  He slipped off his jacket and tie and between them they undid his shirt and pulled it open. His skin against hers was one of the most sensuous sensations Miranda had ever known. So soft and yet so strong. His hands tightened on her waist and Warren groaned, the way she remembered from the boat. That had been so wonderful, too—until the next morning. She made a little sound of distress and tried to sit up, but Warren drew back and held her face between his hands. 'I want you,' he said thickly. 'This time I want to—'

  Miranda stiffened. 'What do you mean; this time?' She pushed his hands away, suddenly angry and afraid, and got to her feet. 'Just because we—it happened once, doesn't mean that you can come here and expect sex on demand. I'm not drunk now, you know!'

  'No, you're not.' Warren, too, had got to his feet, a dew of sweat on the broad width of his bare chest. 'You're stone-cold sober—and you want me as much as I want you.' Putting his hands on her shoulders he pulled her roughly against him, moved so that his chest stroked her breasts, lifting her instantly to an agony of desire all over again.

  'Don't. Please, don't?

  'Then don't lie. Don't try to pretend that this means nothing to you.'

  'I'm not. I...' Somehow she pushed him away and put her arms across her chest, covering herself. 'I want you to go,' she said on a raw, unsteady note.

  'No, you don't. Why don't you admit the truth? You want me to stay and take you to bed again.' His voice softening, Warren said, 'It was good be¬tween us that night, Miranda. It can be again.' He gently kissed her lips. 'It can be even better.'

  Swinging away from him, Miranda found her blouse and turned her back on him as she put it on, her fingers trembling so much that she could hardly do up the buttons. Then she turned to face him. 'You said there were no strings attached to your job. Is this the way you keep your word?'

  Warren's face hardened. 'No one's forcing you.'

  'Then go. Go now.'

  'All right, if that's what you want.' He bent to pick up his shirt from the floor.

  'Yes, it is,' Miranda said firmly, hoping to convince herself as much as him.

  Warren gave her a brooding look as he dressed, then came over and put his hand on her neck, in the gesture she was growing used to. 'Why didn't you say no at the beginning?'

  She should have done, she knew, but it had been impossible. Trying to put him off, Miranda shrugged. 'A petting session is nothing. But you went too far.'

  A cold look came into Warren's eyes. 'Remind me to ask you where to draw the line next time,' he said sarcastically.

  'There won't be any next time.'

  He gave her a long look that seemed to go deep into her soul. 'Oh, yes,' he said with certainty, 'I think there will be.'

  That night Miranda lay staring up at the moonlit ceiling for a long time, before turning her head into the pillow and crying herself to sleep.

  Realising that accepting Warren's job had been a big mistake, she went all out to finish it as soon as possible. She fixed up an interview with the sales manager he had picked out and luckily the man was very interested, so she could safely arrange for Warren to see him and for the two of them to come to an agreement. In the meantime she chased all over the place and finally narrowed the possible new premises down to two sites for Warren to look at. Both of them were within a few miles of his present building, and there was one that seemed to fulfil all his requirements, and which she was quite excited about. Despite all the pressures, she had enjoyed the search, and was toying with the idea of adver¬tising her services in the same capacity. But chasing around had been exhausting when she didn't feel well.

  Picking up the phone, Miranda called Warren and told him about the two sites. 'Someone else has expressed an interest in the one I think you'll like best, so I suggest that you look at it fairly quickly,' she warned him.

  'All right, we'll make it tomorrow morning. But it will have to be early; I have to meet a client at ten-thirty. I'll pick you up at eight and we'll look at the first place at eight-thirty and the second an hour later. If I'm interested I can always go back and take another look if I need to.'

  Miranda wasn't very happy about meeting him that early but she didn't really have much choice. She tried to console herself by thinking that this was the last time she might ever have to see him, but her feelings were in such turmoil that the thought brought pain as well as relief. The next morning she was waiting on the pavement outside the flats and got into the car the moment Warren pulled into the kerb. It wasn't so cold today and the sun was starting to shine through the dissolving mist. She said good morning quickly, being careful not to look him in the eyes, then, as he drove, to avoid any personal conversation, she immediately began to read aloud the details of the first place they were to visit. But her voice began to falter as he reached a ring road and picked up speed.

  'Go on,' he said impatiently. 'How much space does it have in the reception area?'

  'About—about...' Miranda's voice died as she started taking deep breath
s, fighting back nausea. 'You'll have to stop,' she blurted out. 'Right now!' And she put her hands up to her mouth.

  'What?' Warren took one startled glance at her white face and pulled into the entrance to a nearby park. 'There's a public loo over there.'

  Miranda pushed open the door and ran, making it just in time. Afterwards she leaned against the wall, feeling dreadful, her insides trembling. It took her several minutes to recover and her hands were still shaking when she went to the basin to wash out her mouth and splash water on her face.

  'You all right, love?' A middle-aged woman, wrapped in a bulky coat and headscarf, had come in and was looking at her with understanding sym¬pathy. 'Your 'usband asked me to come in and see if you was all right,' she explained. 'Expecting, are yer?'

  Miranda nodded weakly. 'Yes. Yes, I am.'

  'Thought so. You can always tell.'

  Miranda thanked her and went outside. Warren was walking impatiently up and down by the cart 'Sorry. It's reading when we were going along; it always makes me car-sick.' She reached for the door-handle but found it locked.

  Coming up to her, Warren gave her a grim look and put his hand firmly on her arm. 'Let's take a walk.'

  'But we have to visit the offices.'

  Ignoring her protest, Warren walked along a path through trees, their bare branches outlined against the sun, until they were well away from the road. A couple of people were walking their dogs but apart from that they had the park to themselves. Coming to an abrupt stop, he turned her to face him. 'Why didn't you tell me?' he demanded.

  She gave him a wary look. 'Tell you what?'

  'That you're pregnant.'

  A hunted look came into her face. 'Don't be stupid! Just because I got car-sick—'

  'We drove all the way to York and back but you weren't sick then.'

  'That was different. I wasn't trying to read—'

  'You read the map.' He gave her an impatient shake. 'Stop lying, Miranda. I've suspected this all along. You're pregnant—and the child is mine.'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  'No.' THE word came out instinctively, but Miranda meant it as a cry against fate rather than as a denial of his accusation. She tried to break free of his hold but Warren's hands tightened like steel bands round her arms.

  'You're not running away from me again,' he told her curtly. 'You're going to stay here until you admit the truth.'

  'There's nothing to admit,' she retorted, trying to brazen it out. 'You're entirely mistaken. And if we don't get going we're going to be late for our appointment with—'

  'Damn the appointment!' Warren exclaimed harshly. 'This is more important and we're going to sort it out here and now.'

  Lifting her head, Miranda stared into his eyes, taken aback by his vehemence. The silly thought came into her head that if it had been Graham in this situation he would have put the appointment first. 'You're wrong.' But her voice wasn't as firm as she tried to make it. 'You're making something out of nothing.'

  'And is morning sickness and your thinness nothing? Is your breaking with Graham and leaving his firm not meant to mean anything either? And what about that deeply worried look you have sometimes, when you think no one is watching you? I suppose that's nothing as well.'

  She had no idea that he'd been so perceptive, or had been watching her so closely. He knew, and there was no way she was going to convince him otherwise. Sighing deeply, Miranda lowered her head and said, 'Please let gO of me,' in a dead kind of voice.

  Warren looked at her bent head for a long moment and only slowly released his iron grip, as if he didn't trust her not to turn and run from him. Miranda did turn away, but she reached to put up her coat collar and thrust her gloveless hands into her pockets before she walked across the damp grass to a round pond, its waters grey and still. In the summer it must have been a busy place with its dolphin fountain playing merrily, ducks quacking and children sailing their model boats. But now the fountain was silent and only a few birds braved the weather to drink at the water's edge. Miranda didn't look round but she knew that Warren had followed her.

  'Yes,' she said tonelessly. 'You're right. I am pregnant.'

  'And it's mine.'

  It wasn't a question and she didn't insult him by trying to lie to him again. 'Yes.' She would have liked to look at Warren, to see how he took it, but couldn't bring herself to do so, not after the way he'd turned from her that morning when he'd woken to find her beside him.

  'Is that why you quarrelled with Graham?'

  She shook her head decisively. 'No. I wasn't sure then.'

  'But you broke from him because we'd made love?' She hesitated and he said sharply, 'No more lies, Miranda. I want the truth, all of it.'

  But he couldn't have that, she thought, because she wasn't sure of it herself. She gave an angry kind of shrug. 'I don't know. Maybe I'd just got bored with him. Maybe—maybe the fact that I was capable of having sex with—with another man acted as a catalyst. I just don't know. And it hardly matters now.'

  'No.' Putting his hand on her arm, Warren turned her round to face him, but his touch was gentle now. 'So we'd better start getting to know each other very quickly.'

  Miranda dragged her eyes up to meet his, her own scared and vulnerable. He was regarding her steadily, and she felt that there was even a trace of self-mockery in the way his mouth twisted. 'Why?' she asked warily.

  'So that we're not quite such strangers when we get married.'

  She caught her breath so sharply that for a moment she felt faint and swayed on her feet.

  Putting out his hands to steady her, Warren gave an ironic grin and said, 'Were you so afraid that I wouldn't stand by you? You shouldn't have been; I already told you that I don't run away from my responsibilities.'

  So that's what he thought her: a responsibility! Sudden rage filled her and Miranda shook him off. 'How terribly noble of you,' she said in bitter sarcasm. 'But don't worry, you're not going to be saddled with me and a child for the rest of your life. In case you hadn't noticed, this is almost the twenty-first century. Whatever decision I make about the future will be my decision and has nothing whatever to do with you. You just don't come into it.'

  Surprised at first by her outburst, Warren's face hardened and his jaw thrust forward as he returned shortly, 'On the contrary, your condition has everything to do with me. So don't think that you're going to shut me out. And just what decision do you have to make, anyway?'

  'None.' Miranda's face was very white but for the bright spots of anger in her cheeks. 'It's already made. I'm going to have an abortion.'

  She had never seen anyone look so fiercely angry as Warren did then. His eyes flared with instant rage and he almost snarled the next words at her in contemptuous fury, 'Runs in the family, does it?'

  Miranda wasn't even aware that she'd raised her arm to hit him until the sound of her hand's impact on his cheek echoed through the silent morning air.

  He caught her hand, his face murderous, then suddenly Warren had pulled her to him and she was sobbing against his shoulder, crying for all the lonely nights of worry and indecision, and because she was a woman caught in an age-old trap.

  Warren didn't try to stop her crying, instead holding her close and gently stroking her hair until her sobs quietened and she grew still.

  'I'm sorry.' Miranda drew back and accepted the handkerchief he offered her. After drying her eyes, she gave a tremulous smile. 'You must have been a Boy Scout—always prepared.'

  'Not always. Which is why we're in this situ-ation. And why I'm involved as much as you are,' he said deliberately.

  Drawing away from him, a hunted look in her eyes, Miranda shivered and pulled her coat closer round her. 'I'm cold. Do we have to stay here?'

  'We still have a lot to discuss.'

  'Not now. Please.' She gave him an imploring look.

  Warren hesitated, but then nodded. 'All right, but only if you'll make me a solemn promise: that you won't go ahead with an abortion without telling me first.'

/>   Lifting her head, she gazed into his set face. 'Would you accept my word?' she asked curiously.

  'Yes. I would.' His voice was quite firm and steady.

  Her mouth twisted. 'And would you, in return, give me your solemn promise not to try to dissuade me?' Warren's brows flickered and she laughed harshly. 'I thought not. No, I won't give you any promise. I owe you nothing; you said that yourself.'

  'That wasn't what I was talking about, and you know it.'

  'Perhaps not. But what happened between us was completely unimportant. Merely a trivial incident, and something that we should both have forgotten by now. A one-night stand,' she said, deliberately being coarse to put it into perspective. 'That's cer¬tainly all it was for me. I don't owe you anything and you certainly don't owe me anything—especially something as final as marriage.'

  Warren's face had darkened. 'So that's all it was to you?'

  'Of course.' Her head came up and she managed a laugh. 'Good grief, you don't think I'm going to let one night of sex with you ruin my whole life, do you?'

  'Ruin it?' His eyes narrowed. 'Now I wonder why I feel that you're lying again.'

  The sound of voices reached them and Miranda looked round to see a group of children cutting through the park on their way to school. Quickly she turned and began to hurry down the path leading out of the park.

  Warren caught her up but didn't say anything until they reached the car. Then he glanced at his watch. 'It's almost nine. We've missed the first appointment but we can make the second.' He unlocked the car and they got in, then his eyes flicked over her face. 'Do you have any make-up with you?'

  'What?' She gave him an abstracted look. 'Oh, yes. I suppose I look a mess.'

  'You look as if you've been crying—you could never look less than lovely.'

  She had been in the process of opening her bag, but Miranda's hands stilled at the unexpectedness of the compliment. But she didn't look at him and paused for only a moment before taking out her make-up purse and trying to put her face to rights.

  They didn't speak again until they reached their destination, an office building on a new industrial estate, then Miranda said, 'I'd better phone the other place and tell them we got held up. When can you make another appointment?'