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Authors: Pamela Kent

BOOK: Enemy Lover
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“Did lead,” he amended. “A married man will have to settle for something different.”

The colour rose up under her clear skin. She swallowed hard, and then plunged in at the deep end.

“You know very well you don’t really want to marry me,” she said. “You only said all that you said Giffard’s Prior as—as a sort of- challenge . . ” “To whom ?” he enquired, as if the suggestion was a novel one to him.

“Well, to all of us, I suppose! You wanted to say something that would startle us and put an end to all the argument there! Some kind of decisive action had to be taken, as they were all in such a state of confusion.”

“And you think that what I said to Alaine was part of the act, too?”

She looked down at her gloved hands, that were clasping one another for support in her lap, and suddenly he uttered an exclamation that had a mingling of impatience and resignation in it, and glanced at the lowering clouds above them. “Well, I didn’t want to waste the time . . . But I suppose we’d better stop. You seem to be still labouring under an outsize delusion, and knowing you I recognise that immediate action will have to be taken.” He slowed the car, and they drew in towards the hedge and finally came to a stop on the utterly deserted road. “Give me your hand!” he commanded.

She obeyed, and after removing the glove and examining the delicate shape of it and the shiny pink nails, he carried it almost reverently up to his lips. He kissed it several times, and then held it

for a brief moment against his cheek.

“So I don’t want to marry you, is that it?” he said. Her abashed eyes hung upon his.

“Well, why should you?” Her voice faltered. You don’t even need my money!”

“But marrying you for your money would be a good thing! Although we’ve decided, haven’t we, to give it away? That’s one of the reasons why we’re making this hasty trip to London!”

Then, before she could have the least idea of his intentions, he had bent towards her and caught her almost fiercely into his arms. He forced her head down on to his shoulder, and she could feel his long fingers stroking her hair. The scent of that hair stole up to him, and he was looking distinctly bemused when she managed to get a clear view of his eyes.

“Oh, Tina!” he exclaimed. And then, again, practically inaudibly, “Oh, Tina!”

When he kissed her before he had been experimenting, she knew ... Or couldn’t she even be certain of that now? The way his mouth found and devoured hers was such an experience that it left her without the power to assess or decide anything; and when her own left arm crept up and clung about his neck she didn’t even wonder at her temerity. She could hear him whispering to her, in a curiously derogatory and yet wholly adoring way:

“You little idiot! You wonderful girl! Don’t you know I’ve been obsessed by you from the moment I found you curled up on the rug like Cinderella that night old Angus passed away? You looked like a waif blown in by the storm, and your hair was like floss silk, and your eyes were so blue . . . and bewildered!” He kissed them lingeringly, obviously appreciating the way her eyelashes fluttered beneath the touch of his lips. “You were such a surprise to me that I had to lash out at you, and later, in London, I had to be just as rude. Then you were even more of an enchantment, because you’d had the sense to have all the right things done to you, and I could hardly believe it! That day I found you in the town house you looked as if you belonged there! An adorable new mistress examining her treasures!”

“I was afraid of you then,” she admitted, nestling her head into his shoulder, and clinging to him tightly. “You said something about giving me a good thrashing if I was a man—!”

“Which, no doubt, would have improved you still more!” He tilted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. “Tina, I do know what old Angus meant when he said he would have married you if he’d been younger! You do things to a man—even Alaine!— and one wants either to dominate you or get down on one’s knees and grovel at your feet. I’m not the grovelling kind, so I tried to get what I wanted in other ways. I had to remedy the unfortunate early impression I’d given you of myself, and I had to be near you. So, when I found that you needed someone to drive your car, I applied for the job! I didn’t mean to fight you. I meant to insinuate myself into your good graces gradually!”

“Hence the snowdrops when I had ’flu?”

He nodded. “Hence the snowdrops.”

Her eyes, that were like dark blue shining jewels as they gazed up at him, clouded suddenly.

“But you did say you were very much in love with Miss Gaylord! It was supposed to be the reason why you took on the job! Weren’t you—” hesitantly “—the least little bit in love with her . . . ever?” “No, my darling, not ever!” He smoothed the silken soft hair and his touch was miraculously gentle. “I used her, shamelessly, even telephoned her in the evenings to give the right sort of impression and received a lot of abuse over the wire because she was wrapped in the arms of Morpheus at the time!” He drew her passionately closer to him. “If you want the truth, I’ve never been in love with anyone, although that doesn’t mean I haven’t made love occasionally.” He was holding her chin firmly so that she couldn’t avert her eyes. “Every man has to make a little love before he discovers that he’s „in love’— as I am with you! Hopelessly in love, submerged, smothered in it! And if you can’t assure me that you’re just as much in love with me,” his voice shaking as if for once in his life it was far from under control. “I don’t quite know how I’m going to take it! I might revert to type, become violent! Force you to have some sort of feeling for me ...”

“But I love you,” she told him with soft clarity.

“Do you? Really?” His fingers, as well as his voice, were shaking now as he smoothed back the feathery tendrils from her brow. “And you’ll marry me? Immediately? Because I can’t wait--” “Not even until we’ve transferred all my money to the members of your family who need it? Juliet, for instance?”

“Certainly not!” he returned, with something of his old sharpness and arrogance. “Have you any idea, I wonder, how long lawyers take to draw up a simple thing like a Deed of Gift? Anything up to six months, I’d say, at the rate Jasper moves. And in any case, I’m not at all certain we’re handing it all over. I can certainly keep you for the rest of your life without inflicting any unnecessary hardship

on myself, but there’s Giffard’s Prior to maintain, I’ve an idea old Angus wanted it lived in. Probably by you and me together! ”

“You mean he hoped we—we might get to like one another?” He snorted.

“As did Angus knew me very well indeed he would have been quite certain I’d do something more than ‘like’ the woman I married. But yes, I think it might have crossed his mind that either Alaine or I might make you a dependable husband, and thus keep at bay the fortune-hunters. There was a time of my life when old Angus and I got on very well. It was just that we both had red hair!” She put up a hand and touched it lovingly,

“Not red, Titian,” she said, as if it mattered. “It really is Titian!” And then, reverting to the subject of Juliet: “But I did promise to settle all her bills, and make things easy for her. We must do that!” “We will,” he promised, an expression of delight crossing his face as he bent his head to kiss her. “As soon as we get to London . . . After making arrangements for getting married ourselves, that is!”

A lorry was approaching from the opposite direction, and through the gathering dusk the lorry driver watched them with interest as he sped past Angus lifted his head.

“Well, I suppose we’d better be getting on,” he said regretfully.

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