First-Class Seduction

by Lee Wilkinson

  Remembering Suzy’s startled face, Bel bit her lip. ‘Then what?’

  ‘You still don’t know?’

  ‘I thought you might tell me.’

  The redhead shrugged. ‘Well, if you’re sure you want me to.’

  But her sherry-coloured eyes were bright with malice, and it was plain that she was only too delighted to have an opportunity to cause further trouble.

  ‘It was later that night and I happened to be at the bar. I saw Andrew Storm pour half a bottle of vodka into a jug of fruit juice. I asked him who he was trying to get sloshed.

  ‘Cool as a cucumber, he said, “Your rival. If you’d like to get Roderick, meet me here in about an hour. I’ve a proposition to put to you.”‘

  ‘So you did?’

  ‘Yes. Roderick should have been mine in the first place,’ Suzy added defensively.

  Refusing to argue, Bel asked, ‘What was the proposition?’ Though she’d already guessed what it was, somehow she needed to hear it put into words.

  ‘He said that if I helped him, he could-and would-make sure your engagement was broken. I asked him why he wanted it broken. That was when he told me he wanted you for himself.’

  ‘And you agreed to help him.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  Suzy lifted her chin. ‘I asked him what he wanted me to do. He told me that you were out for the count and that you’d almost certainly sleep until morning. To make sure you were all right, and in case Roderick did any checking, he intended to sleep in the same room.

  ‘If you showed any signs of waking too early, he’d tap on my door-he already knew my room was just the other side of his-otherwise, at seven-thirty I was to rouse Roderick and bring him to your room.

  ‘I asked if leaving it until the next morning wasn’t a bit risky-wouldn’t it be better to get it over with straight away?

  ‘But he said no, for two reasons. Firstly it was obvious that you were drunk, and secondly he wanted Roderick to see that you and he had spent the night in the same bed.

  ‘When I asked him how I was supposed to know you were in bed together, he said quite curtly, “Use your imagination. If you can’t think of anything better, tell him you were passing the door and you heard a man’s voice and peeped in. Even if it’s a little.shall we say.unlikely, he isn’t going to doubt the evidence of his own eyes.”‘

  Nor had he.

  Suzy sighed theatrically. ‘I suppose knowing that Andrew Storm got you drunk on purpose and planned the whole thing is bound to make a difference to how you feel about him?’

  Bel’s veneer of composure concealed a quiet, but none the less burning anger as she answered coolly, ‘You could say that.’

  ‘I for one wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to him again.’ she said, and then added with mock sympathy, ‘I know it makes you a double loser, but I suppose you’ll give him back his ring?’

  It was Andrew Bel blamed and was furious with, rather than Suzy, but she was only human, and suddenly she itched to wipe the smirk off the redhead’s pretty face.

  Holding her temper in check, she said calmly, ‘I might just keep it. Knowing the truth makes me feel rather flattered that a man of Andrew’s wealth and power should want me enough to go to all that trouble.

  ‘On the other hand, I’m not very happy that Roderick and his parents think so badly of me. So, to set the record straight, I may go to see Roderick and tell him everything you’ve just told me…’

  Suzy’s expression changed from triumphant smugness to horror and chagrin as she faced the fact that she might be hoist with her own petard.

  ‘Of course it wouldn’t reflect too well on you,’ Bel went on, ‘but I don’t care to-’

  ‘You want him back,’ Suzy burst out.

  ‘As a matter of fact I don’t. But I don’t care to be misjudged by people I like and respect.’

  Her face red and blotchy, Suzy suddenly looked very young and vulnerable. ‘If you tell him, that will be the end of everything. I’ll never get him. Oh, please.? she begged hoarsely.

  Though she had no real intention of saying anything, Bel was angry enough not to want to let the girl get off too easily.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said flatly, and, picking up her small bag, headed for the door.

  As if intending to make a further plea, Suzy followed hurriedly at her heels.

  An idea forming in her mind, wanting to hit back in some small way, to see Andrew embarrassed, disconcerted, Bel said, ‘I’d like you to come and say hello to the folks I’m with.’

  Looking uneasy, Suzy agreed, ‘All right.’ The men were talking, and the two women had almost reached the table before Andrew glanced up and saw them.

  Just for an instant he looked rattled, but his discomfort was swiftly masked and his expression was politely bland as the men rose to their feet with old-fashioned courtesy.

  ‘Look who I’ve bumped into,’ Bel said with assumed brightness. ‘Dad, you remember Suzy?’

  ‘Of course.’ Peter inclined his head with a charming smile.

  ‘Andrew, you know Suzy, don’t you?’

  ‘We have met.’ His tone was casual but his eyes were wary. ‘How are you, Miss Bainbridge?’

  Lacking the savoir faire to carry things off, Suzy merely looked uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a long time,’ Bel apologised, ‘but Suzy and I have been having quite a chat.’

  ‘I sometimes wonder what women find to talk about for so long,’ Peter remarked humourously.

  Bel looked Andrew in the eye and said, ‘Men, of course.’

  Forcing her to admire his nerve, he laughed. ‘It just goes to show how fascinating we are.’

  ‘So are snakes,’ she observed sweetly, and caught her father’s startled glance.

  ‘I’d better go,’ Suzy muttered. ‘Freddy will be wondering where I’ve got to.’ Then she whispered to Bel, ‘You won’t.?’

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  Her relief unmistakable, Suzy hurried away.

  If he was wondering what all that had been about, Peter said nothing.

  Still standing, Andrew looked at Bel, and with a wry twist to his clear-cut lips asked, ‘Would you like any more coffee, or are you ready to go?’

  ‘Quite ready,’ she told him with brittle politeness.

  They made their way to the entrance, to find the grey limousine waiting. Turning to the older man, Andrew queried, ‘Can we drop you off?’

  After a quick glance at his daughter’s set face, Peter shook his head. ‘Thanks, but I’ll get a taxi.’

  Bel kissed his cheek, and promised, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  The two men shook hands, their leavetaking courteous but lacking warmth.

  Ignoring Andrew’s proffered hand, Bel climbed into the limousine and settled herself in the far corner. Too angry to make even a pretence at polite conversation, she stayed silent and withdrawn until they reached the Lambeck Building.

  Having said goodnight to Bridges, they took the lift up. Though tension crackled between them like electric sparks, neither spoke until they were inside the penthouse.

  As soon as the door had closed behind them, Andrew took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair, then, loosening his tie, he turned to face her, tall and dark and intimidating, overwhelmingly masculine.

  Bel stared at him in silence while the adrenalin pumped through her veins.

  ‘Would you like a nightcap?’ he asked coolly.

  ‘No.’ She made no attempt at civility now.

  He wore a deliberating look, the expression of a man weighing up the opposition, wondering how best to deal with it.

  After a moment or two, with an air of patient reasonableness that infuriated her, he said, ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me why you’re upset?’

  Oh, but he was a master tactician, she thought bitterly, playing it cool, giving nothing away just in case she hadn’t learnt the whole truth.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ Her manner was taut, strained from
holding back the build-up of anger and resentment.

  ‘I can’t imagine,’ he assured her, with little conviction and even less truth.

  ‘And I can’t imagine why I ever agreed to marry a man who is a rogue and a liar, rotten to the core and totally unscrupulous.’

  When, his face impassive, he said nothing, she cried, angered afresh, ‘You got me drunk purposely. You planned the whole thing without caring two hoots how much you upset Roderick or his parents. And you certainly weren’t worried about shaming and degrading me. You made me feel like some cheap tramp-’

  ‘I’m sorry about that.’ His voice was cool, incisive. ‘But I couldn’t let you go ahead and marry totally the wrong man.’

  ‘Who gave you the right to decide he was the wrong man?’ she demanded wrathfully.

  ‘Well, wasn’t he?’

  When she refused to answer, Andrew went on, ‘I knew you were the woman for me. I had to bring that engagement to an end somehow.’

  ‘Did you have to be quite so brutal about it? Why couldn’t you have tried.well.being nice to me?’

  ‘The old-fashioned term is wooing,’ he pointed out succinctly.

  ‘Well, any other man would have-’

  ‘But I’m not “any other man.” ‘ He took her upper arms in a light grip. ‘And if I had tried to woo you, how far would that have got me? You’re not the kind of woman who would have entertained another man while you were engaged to Bentinck.’

  ‘But what you did was so heartless.’

  ‘They were desperate measures, I admit, but time was getting short.’

  When he would have drawn her closer, she pulled herself loose and turned away, her shining head bent. Her mood had changed, and from being furiously angry she now felt drained, on the verge of tears.

  ‘Come on, Bel,’ he coaxed, his eyes on the purity of her profile. ‘Don’t let’s quarrel. What’s done can’t be undone. It’s better to let it go. You’ve admitted you wouldn’t go back to Bentinck. You’re wearing my ring, not his, and in less than forty-eight hours we’ll be married.’

  ‘What you mean is, you’re satisfied you’ve won.’ There was something about the way she spoke that made him look at her warily.

  ‘And you believe the end justifies the means? Well, I don’t!’ Huskily, she went on, ‘I’m no longer sure I want to marry you.’

  She started to take off the emerald, sliding it over her knuckle. ‘As for your ring, I don’t want to wear it any more unti-’ She stopped with a gasp as, seizing her hand, he thrust the ring back, holding it in place with a grip that threatened to break her delicate bones.

  Raising her chin, she looked him in the face. ‘You’re hurting me. Please let me go.’ In spite of all her efforts her voice shook.

  His eyes hard as grey granite, he said, ‘Then leave the ring where it is.’

  When she stood quietly, making no further move to take it off, his grip slackened and he released her hand.

  Nursing it, she turned away, informing him stiffly, ‘I’m going to bed now, and I’m moving into one of the guest rooms.’

  Catching her arm, he swung her to face him and took her shoulders in a grip just short of brutal. ‘I’m damned if you are! You made your choice and you’re sticking with it.’

  Though the words were spoken softly, the underlying hint of violence made her shiver. Still she defied him. ‘What I’ve learnt has made me change my mind. I’ve no intention of sleeping with you tonight. I need a chance to think things over.’

  She saw his face darken with fury, but, refusing to be cowed, she added levelly, ‘If you insist on us sharing a bed, then I’ll walk out of here right now and take a taxi to Dunbarton Street.’

  His eyes flashed, and, knowing she’d pushed him too far, she held her breath while she waited for the explosion.

  It was a moment electric with tension; she could feel the build-up of fury and exasperation, the tautness in his lean, powerful body.

  But his excellent self-control held, and after a moment, his face schooled into a dispassionate mask, he released her shoulders and said calmly, ‘Very well. But you stay where you are. I’ll be the one to move out.’

  Reaction made her legs feel like jelly as, without a word, she turned and headed for the safety of a solitary bed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HER cases still hadn’t been unpacked and, unwilling to sleep in the nude, as she had done the previous night, Bel searched for something to wear. She came up with a shortie nightshirt that Ellen had bought her last Christmas.

  While she showered and cleaned her teeth, and brushed her long hair, her agitated thoughts went batting backwards and forwards like a bumblebee.

  Could she still marry Andrew, knowing how devious he could be, how unscrupulous? He had acted in a way that proved he could be both cruel and ruthless, and she couldn’t believe the end justified the means.

  Yet she was convinced that basically he wasn’t a cruel man, and, though at the moment she was upset and furious with him, she knew he was kind and caring and had his own strong principles.

  And he’d been right about her not being the kind of woman who would have entertained another man while she was still engaged to Roderick.

  Poor Roderick, he didn’t deserve to be hurt and humiliated, to have his hopes and dreams destroyed so callously.

  Yet if Andrew hadn’t used those bulldozing tactics she would have almost certainly gone ahead and married him, and it would have been a sad mistake.

  Oh, they might have rubbed along comfortably enough, but Roderick would have been cheated out of the most precious gift a man could have: a wife who truly, ardently loved him.

  While she, without that divine spark, that passionate love Andrew had kindled, would never have reached the heights, never have been completely fulfilled.

  So how could she go on agonising over it?

  Nothing could change what had happened, and though in some ways she longed to set the record straight she could see no point in causing Roderick any further heartache. And she had promised Suzy.

  Nor-she faced the truth squarely-did she want this knowledge to wreck her future relationship with Andrew. Though without his love their marriage would be incomplete, it offered her only chance of happiness.

  Going back to the empty bedroom, she climbed into bed with a sigh. Her self-respect had demanded a show-down, and she should be pleased she’d won the battle. But, no longer buoyed up by righteous anger and indignation, she felt no sense of satisfaction or elation, only desolation and sadness.

  She wanted to be in his arms where she belonged, not sleeping alone. A wave of longing engulfed her and she bit her lip. But she wouldn’t go to him; her pride wouldn’t allow it.

  Pride was a chilly, uncomfortable bedfellow, her mother had used to say, not one to be encouraged.

  Bel was out of bed and on her way to the door when a thought stopped her in her tracks. Andrew wasn’t a man to be trifled with. What if he was still angry? What if he looked at her coldly and rejected her?

  The possibility shrivelled her courage, and she was retreating back to bed when there was a sudden tap at the door. She gave a startled glance over her shoulder.

  Andrew, fresh from the shower, his feet and legs bare, was wearing a short white towelling robe. He looked strong and virile and beautiful, and she quivered as though her entire being belonged to him.

  ‘I came to say goodnight.’ He spoke to her halfturned back, his voice, though holding no trace of anger, cool and remote. ‘I have to make an early start in the morning, so I may not see you.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was a forlorn little whisper of sound that got lost in the silence. Taking a deep breath, she said carefully, ‘Then I’ll see you in church.’

  She sensed his relief before he murmured, ‘Well, goodnight, Bel.’

  ‘Andrew.’

  He paused, and she felt his utter stillness.

  Wondering how best to break the ice, she turned to look at him.

  Perhaps reading her change of
heart in her face, he opened his arms, and she walked into them like someone going home.

  But when she stood on tiptoe and lifted her face to kiss him, instead of meeting her lips he moved his head back with great deliberation and looked down at her.

  Something about his considering look made her uncomfortable. ‘Don’t you want me to kiss you?’

  Coolly he told her, ‘It seems a shame not to take up an offer like that, but the trouble about kissing is that it almost invariably leads to other things. And you did say you had no intention of sleeping with me tonight.’

  ‘Until I’d had a chance to think things over.’

  ‘Have you had a chance?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what have you decided?’

  ‘To take your advice and forget the past.’

  She saw by the flare of satisfaction in his eyes it was what he’d hoped to hear. But it wasn’t until he said mockingly, ‘In that case, you can kiss me,’ that she realised he intended to make her pay for her earlier stand.

  Her soft mouth tightening, she said, ‘I’m no longer sure I want to.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m sure I want you to.’

  He ran his fingers into her thick, silky hair and, holding her head between his long, well-shaped hands, drew her lips towards his until they almost touched.

  When she made no attempt to kiss him, he tilted her head back, leaving her slim throat vulnerable to the ravages of his lips and teeth and tongue.

  She gasped and shivered as his mouth grazed over the soft skin beneath her jaw and lingered at the hollow behind her ear. But there was something about him, a hint of violence, that, though held strictly in check, warned her not to struggle.

  When his mouth finally closed over hers, his kiss was harsh, punitive, until finally it gave way to a deep, sensuous exploration. Head spinning, she leaned limply against him. It wasn’t so much surrender as a merciless subjugation.

  While he kissed her one skilled hand began to rove over her body, cupping the weight of her breast, teasing a nipple, then following the curve of her hip to locate and exploit an even more sensitive spot.

  His mouth moved to find her breast and she shuddered and arched towards him. It was ravishment, pure and simple.