by Kim Lawrence
‘I’d noticed,’ she said, her lips quirking in amusement at the indignant tone in his voice. ‘I thought you were a rugged mountain man,’ she teased.
‘That was way back. These days I’m a more your condo and air-conditioned limo type of man. There’s no calluses on these hands.’ He extended his well-manicured fingers for her to inspect.
An image of hands that did have calluses flickered into her head. ‘You’re soft,’ she teased, forcing herself to concentrate. Thoughts of Alex were disastrously distracting.
‘I’m contrite,’ he said seriously. He pulled out a chair from the table and straddled it, placing his hands on the ladder back. ‘You have to believe I had no idea that the press would crucify you here too. Shirley and I are really grateful that you kept your mouth shut. Politics is a tough game, but her son got the State appointment, thanks to you, and there’s no reason we can’t come clean now.’
‘That’s good news.’
‘My dear soon-to-be-ex is going to be mad as hell when she realises we took her for a ride.’ This thought seemed to afford him some pleasure.
‘I take it this isn’t an amicable parting of the ways? So long as I’m not the target of her ire this time.’ The last time had been particularly unpleasant.
‘You’re out of it now, Hope. I just hope poor Shirley can take the press coverage we get.’ Lloyd caught her look and had the grace to flush. ‘It’s different for you, Hope, you’re tough.’
Gee, thanks, she thought. Did he honestly think the invasive curiosity of the media had no effect on her? she marvelled. Still, the relief that the charade was over was intense. ‘I’ll drink to the end of the charade.’
‘I thought you’d never ask. Don’t you move. I’ll sniff out the booze. Tell me,’ he said casually, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a number I can contact Sam at. I must have mislaid the one he gave me.’
‘Mislaid?’ She shook her head. ‘To think I innocently thought guilt and concern for my welfare were the incentive for this visit.’
Lloyd placed two tumblers he’d retrieved from the draining board on the table. He grinned sheepishly. ‘So they were. I even brought you flowers, only I left them in the car. I just thought while I was here…’
‘You’d wheedle Sam’s whereabouts out of me. The man’s on his honeymoon, Lloyd. With my sister. She’d never speak to me again.’
‘I’ve got this great project on the burner—I know he’d kick himself if he missed out.’
‘Your altruism is inspiring, but the answer’s no.’
‘Hope…’
‘Wheedling won’t work.’
Lloyd sighed. ‘It was worth a try.’
Despite this assurance, Lloyd continued to try and worm the information out of her through the evening. Hope wasn’t really offended—she had no illusions when it came to Lloyd. She liked him, but when it came to business he wasn’t sentimental. ‘Single-minded’ would be a kind way to put it.
‘Just my luck I finally meet a woman who can keep a secret at the wrong moment,’ he observed as he prepared to leave.
Hope ignored this sally. ‘Have you got that torch?’ she fussed as he buttoned up his coat. ‘These should fit you,’ she added, handing him her father’s brown leather gloves. ‘But as I’ve said, you’re welcome to stay to supper.’ She was glad he’d refused. Alex would be here soon, and this could be a classic case of ‘three’s a crowd.’
‘I’ll take a rain check, Hope. Perfect fit,’ he agreed, pulling on the gloves. ‘There’s a full moon and a clear sky out there—I won’t need a torch. It’s freezing hard, but they’re promising a thaw by morning, and if I leave my car out there much longer I’ll never budge it.’ He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?’
‘Don’t you think you should get divorced first?’ she teased lightly.
‘Point taken. The thing is, we’ve been living separate lives for so long I don’t really feel married any more. To tell you the truth, I never thought I’d ever feel I wanted to try again. There hadn’t been much incentive to split with Dallas before I met Shirley. Now I wish I’d done it years ago.’
‘Give my love to Shirley.’
‘I will,’ Lloyd said huskily. ‘I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, Hope,’ he said with an uncharacteristic rush of emotion. He kissed her warmly. ‘You’re one in a million.’
‘Really? I’d have given much shorter odds—a sure thing wouldn’t be too wide of the mark.’ These words were accompanied by an Arctic blast from the open door, which was warm in comparison to the frigid tone.
‘Alex, you’re early.’
‘Obviously.’ The clipped word spoke volumes.
‘I don’t know what your problem is, friend—’
‘I’m not your friend,’ Alex responded, stating what was already obvious to Hope. Hostility was oozing out of every pore. She didn’t need to be psychic to see what conclusion he’d jumped to, walking in and finding her kissing Lloyd.
‘Don’t speak to Lloyd like that!’ Out of dismay and confusion, Hope was emerging furiously angry. If she’d been wondering if Alex had changed his opinion of her, this little display was a very eloquent answer. I was a fool to think it would be any other way, she told herself bitterly. My God, he wants to think I’m some sort of trollop.
‘I’ll speak to Lloyd how the hell I like!’
‘Now just hold on—’ Lloyd began angrily.
‘Shut up!’ they both yelled in unison. Blue eyes clashed with grey as they recognised their shared sentiments.
‘Just go, Lloyd,’ Hope managed in a much calmer voice.
‘I’m not leaving you with him,’ Lloyd replied firmly, casting Alex a look of mistrust. ‘God, Hope, you haven’t got yourself mixed up with him, have you?’
Hope wished with all her heart she could deny this. It was easy to see why he was reluctant to leave her, she reflected. Alex did look a thoroughly dangerous proposition. His features were as hard as granite and the coiled tension in his body emphasised the physical threat he could represent.
‘Lloyd’s not as stupid as he looks, Hope—he doesn’t trust you. Hell, it must be tough to have a girlfriend who’s likely to jump into bed with the first male to knock on the door,’ he observed sympathetically.
‘Only if there’s nothing better on TV.’
Hope still had hold of a bunch of Lloyd’s coat material in her fist, and she had felt him stiffen in outrage at this deliberate provocation. Alex was spoiling for a fight, and she had to protect Lloyd from the consequences of any chivalrous action he might be needled into taking. Lloyd might be a large man, but she had no doubt he wasn’t a match for Alex. He was soft, sedentary and nice—attributes that were noticeably absent in Alex.
‘Listen, Lloyd,’ she said urgently, ‘I want you to go, please. Don’t worry about him.’ She cast Alex a cold look of distaste. ‘He’s all mouth and muscle—most of it between his ears. The only things we’ll be slinging are insults. And as Alex’s opinion of anything is irrelevant to me, the only injury I’m going to sustain is an earache.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Lloyd doubtfully.
‘Is he trying to suggest I’d hit a woman?’ At another time in another situation Alex’s male outrage might have made her smile. Right now she thought she’d never smile again.
‘He won’t touch me,’ she told Lloyd. ‘But you’re quite likely to end up with a bloody nose,’ she predicted confidently. ‘And, no, I’m not suggesting you’re scared. But, on a more practical note, do you think a black eye is in keeping with your image? Is it Friday you’re on the coast-to-coast chat show?’ This little reminder had an immediately sobering effect.
Lloyd looked indecisive. Alex watched his brief wrestle with his conscience with an expression of scorn.
‘Well, if you’re sure…?’
‘Since when did I start needing anyone to fight my battles?’ She pressed her lips warmly to his and moved towards the door, but Alex’s bulk was effe
ctively blocking it. ‘Do you mind?’ she said haughtily.
The way he clicked his heels and inclined his head was filled with mockery. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me to leave?’
And give him the opportunity of refusing? No chance. ‘Not before I’ve told you exactly what I think of you, and then it won’t be a request.’ She saw the momentary surprise in his eyes. Yes, the offensive was definitely the way to go. If Alex was expecting her to meekly stand there and accept all the vile things he would undoubtedly fling at her, he could forget it!
‘The suspense is killing me.’
‘Don’t raise my hopes,’ she hissed. She pinned a smile on her lips as she turned to bid Lloyd farewell.
He’d been listening to their swift interchange with a troubled expression. The undercurrents were enough to make him feel as if he’d outstayed his welcome.
‘Safe journey, and as I said, give my love to Shirley.’
‘I feel bad leaving you…’
‘To say I’m a big girl would be an understatement.’
Lloyd stepped out into the icy farmyard. ‘I don’t know what your problem is,’ he shouted to Alex. ‘But this girl is pure gold, and if you can’t see that you’re blind!’
Hope gave a last wave and closed the door. The expression she glimpsed on Alex’s face as she turned gave her the impression he was surprised by the vehemence of Lloyd’s parting shot.
‘Who’s Shirley?’
She hadn’t expected that, and for an instant she was thrown into confusion. Since Lloyd had given the all-clear she’d been planning when and how to tell Alex about Shirley. Whilst it might have been nice if he’d not needed explanations, her practical nature had accepted it was unrealistic to expect this.
‘Lloyd’s mother,’ she lied perversely.
It hurt to recall how recently she’d decided that bed would be the best place to tell him the whole story. Tell him how nice and extraordinarily ordinary Shirley was; tell him how it had been a very sensitive time for her son, who had political aspirations, how being associated with a very public divorce might have ruined his chances. Any wild ideas she’d had when he walked in of telling him the truth when he’d calmed down had long gone. She felt too betrayed by his distrust to want to offer explanations any more.
‘Don’t tell me he’s taken you home to the family.’
His scorn banked up her sense of desolation. Nothing she could say or do was going to change his mind. A perverse vindictive streak in her wanted him to dig himself deeper. She wanted to think of him squirming when he learnt the truth, as he inevitably would. If he dared to come crawling back she’d take great delight in laughing at him, she decided confidently.
‘I’ve met them,’ she replied truthfully. Lloyd had roped her into persuading his niece to finish her education before she embarked on a modelling career. The whole family had been embarrassingly grateful.
‘Did you tell him the bed was still warm from me, or doesn’t he care?’ In his mind’s eye he could see the tumbled bedclothes. ‘What sort of warped relationship do you two have?’ he asked in disgust. ‘It must be a pretty big carrot he’s dangling this time if you’re willing to…’
‘Willing to what, Alex?’ she asked, with a coolness that hid her growing anger and disgust. His self-righteous attitude was really getting to her. ‘Willing to take him to my bed, not you? Aren’t you guilty of making some pretty big assumptions? What makes you think that would be a sacrifice?’
Alex caught his breath sharply. The thought of another man’s name on her tongue as her pale body convulsed in the throes of passion made a red mist dance before his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched as he fought for control. ‘If you’re trying to tell me I come second best to him,’ he spat contemptuously, ‘don’t waste your breath.’
‘Oh, Alex,’ she taunted gently, ‘don’t take it so personally. You’ve probably done me a favour,’ she mused thoughtfully. ‘I think I was in danger of taking what I had for granted. I was in danger of becoming blasé about cultured, sophisticated men. But I don’t really belong here any more.’
‘Glad to have been of service.’
The vicious satisfaction she’d felt as she’d seen her words find their mark dissipated. It could be I’ve gone too far, she reflected, feeling for the table behind her legs. The expression in his eyes made her wish she had the false security of the table between them. She’d primed a bomb and now she didn’t know how to defuse it.
‘Why make excuses, Hope?’ he said in a dangerously quiet tone. ‘It’s just sex you like. I was wrong to take it personally. It’s not just me you can’t get enough of. To think I thought I’d been wrong about you.’ A spasm of self-contempt contorted his taut features. ‘I had my apology all rehearsed.’ The nerve beside his mouth jerked erratically.
‘How dare you be so sanctimonious?’ she cried, sick to the stomach. He’d let her down, not the other way around. It was his distrust that had come between them. ‘Sex is healthy and natural so long as things are going the way you want. So long as I play by your rules. Aren’t you being just a tad perverse, Alex? Wasn’t my reputation half of the attraction, if you’re honest? Know what I think?’ she flung at him. ‘I think under all that disgust you’re plain and simply jealous as hell!’
He moved towards her and she didn’t have the space or mobility to escape. ‘Oh, you’re right, angel.’ He pushed his face up to hers and grinned savagely through clenched teeth. ‘I am. But don’t get your hopes up. I wouldn’t touch you with a barge-pole. Even if my stomach could bear it, women with the morals of an alley cat are a health hazard these days—literally.’
She winced as the door slammed behind him. She felt too drained to cry. Numb and strangely empty. Falling in love wasn’t the occasion for joy and celebration she’d always naively expected. Love sucks! she thought, wiping a solitary tear from her face with the sleeve of her sweater.
CHAPTER SIX
HOPE flicked on the angled lamp beside her bed. Three-thirty. She shivered as the cold night air penetrated the thin cotton of her nightshirt. Reluctantly she swung her legs out of bed and her bare foot blindly sought her slipper whilst she lifted her crutches from their resting place beside the bedpost.
The newborn lamb Fred Wilson had pleaded with her to temporarily foster needed feeding. Hope didn’t mind—it had always been one of the nicer tasks around the farm.
She cried out in shock as her foot was plunged into icy water. Drawing her foot back to the bed, she peered over the side. ‘Oh, God!’ Several inches of icy water were swirling sullenly over the floor. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she muttered, her pulses racing in panic.
The impulse to draw the covers over her head and pretend nothing had happened was strong. That didn’t work when you tried it earlier, she reminded herself sourly. Telling herself she wasn’t devastated hadn’t prevented her eyes being puffy in the aftermath of last evening’s orgy of abject misery—an orgy that had lasted deep into the night!.
Gritting her teeth, she hopped to the opposite side of the room, her plastered leg extended before her. She sat on the edge of her father’s desk and picked up the telephone receiver. As much as it galled her, there was no way she could cope with the present emergency with her leg in plaster. Pride would have to take second place to practicality on this occasion.
‘Anna, thank goodness.’ The phone had been speedily answered. ‘Sorry if I woke you. Oh, you were feeding the babies. Of course there’s something wrong—I wouldn’t be phoning at three in the morning to say hello. Sorry, I’m just a bit overwrought,’ she apologised, with admirable understatement. ‘The thing is we’ve got a water leak here. No, I’ve no idea where it’s coming from. I haven’t had the guts to venture out of my bed so far. Of course I’m alone!’ she added indignantly to her sister’s query. So Adam had been talking, had he? she thought grimly as hot colour stained her neck. ‘Could I beg a bed—just for the night? If Adam could come over I’d be really grateful.’
She listened in silence as
her sister explained that Adam had been called into the hospital to perform some sort of miracle to save a biker’s leg.
‘I’ll send him along just as soon as he gets back,’ Anna promised. ‘Don’t try to do anything,’ she warned sternly.
As if I needed reminding I’m helpless, Hope thought, hanging up. She didn’t waste her time, though, and by the time she eventually did hear sounds of activity in the hallway she’d swathed her plastered leg in a large plastic bag to protect it from the water, and dug out an old wellington boot from the motley selection that were stored in a cupboard. She’d put on a padded jacket over her nightshirt and shoved some clothes in an overnight bag. She’d belatedly remembered that electricity and water didn’t mix, and a torch was now her only illumination
‘I know I’m being helpless and hopeless, Adam, but…’ She pointed the thin yellow beam at the doorway. The words dried in her throat and her eyes opened wide with horror that was swiftly replaced by anger. ‘Get the hell out!’
‘All in good time,’ Alex replied in a cold, clipped voice. ‘Your sister phoned me and asked me to “ride to the rescue.” I think those were her words.’ He placed the storm lantern he carried on the bureau. His expression was hidden from her in the shadows.
‘I’d prefer to drown.’ It couldn’t be much worse than the sick churning in her belly, and it might not be such an inaccurate prediction. The water was obviously still rising.
‘Don’t overplay the drama or I might give you your wish,’ he grated. ‘Didn’t it occur to you to switch off the water?’
‘What do you think I am, stupid? The stopcock is in the cellar of the dairy next door, down a flight of stairs. I’m not suicidal.’
‘You just prefer drowning to my company!’
Alone again, Hope drummed her fists on the bed in frustration. This couldn’t be happening! Anna had probably imagined she was being helpful. Dear God, this had to stop. She couldn’t go around beating her breast and tearing her hair—not publicly anyway. Under the circumstances she had little alternative but to cope with being thrown into Alex’s company. She tried to view this prospect calmly, with dispassion, and failed miserably.
