One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (19 page)

“I wanted them to stay together.” She flashed him a look of burning conviction. “You shouldn't have children if the marriage isn't rock solid.”

“Is that why you haven't married? You've never felt secure enough in a relationship?”

This conversation was going right off the rails. She didn't want to analyse herself, not to him or anyone else. As it was, he'd drawn stuff from her she never talked about and it was none of his business. “We're not here to talk about me,” she tersely reminded him.

“Just curious about where you're coming from,” he said amiably, reaching for the bottle of wine, which was resting in an ice-bucket. “This is a Margaret River Chardonnay. Would you like to share it with me?”

No way was she going to add alcohol to the volatile mix of feeling emotionally torn up by this man. Her tongue was running out of control and she needed to put a guard on it. She nodded to the corked bottle on the table. “I'll stick to water, thank you.”

“Saving yourself for party drinks.”

Erin paused to take stock of what was happening here. The party lie kept spawning questions that were pricking at her private life. Why was Peter Ramsey putting her so much on the spot if he had no personal interest in her?

His reaction to her attempt to look as attractive as she could had definitely been negative, yet since she'd dismissed her dressed up appearance as nothing to do with him, he seemed intent on finding out more about her than the main purpose of this meeting warranted.

Feeling uncomfortably confused with the situation, she looked him straight in the eye and belligerently stated, “No. I just prefer water. I like to keep a clear head.”

“Even at a party?”

“Especially at a party.”

“Had a bad experience,” he assumed.

“No. And I don't want to invite one.”

“Sounds like being in control is of prime importance to you.”

He was boring in again, the piercing blue eyes focused so intensely on hers, answers to his questions had been spilling out as though drawn from her by a magnet. Despite being stone cold sober, Erin felt hopelessly out of control with Peter Ramsey. Her pulse was racing and her mind was struggling to keep up with his.

“I will not give control of my life to someone else,” burst from her lips before she even realised how revealing that was about herself.

He zoomed straight in on it. “Being independent is safer than trusting anyone, Erin?”

“When the people you should be able to count on keep shuffling you around for their convenience, you learn independence pretty darned quick,” she answered with considerable heat, feeling him burrowing under her skin, going deeper and deeper. “And that's probably what's in store for Thomas Harper,” she added emphatically, trying to move this conversation onto the track it should be taking.

Needing action to break the highly charged current flowing between them, she turned and grabbed the bottle of water, proceeding to fill one of the glasses provided with a long, cool drink.

“I'm sorry. I should have done that for you.”

The apology grated on her frayed nerves. “Why?” she shot at him.

He shrugged, his mouth twitching into a bemused little smile. “It's what a gentleman does for a lady.”

“And what does a lady do for a gentleman in your world, Peter?”

She goes to bed with him.

The cynical thought was in her mind, even as she posed the question. Nevertheless, it came as a shock when she read it in his eyes, the sudden simmer of desire directed straight at her.

Even his smile seemed sensually seductive as he answered, “In my world a gentleman looks after a lady who answers his needs.”

Her mind was in an absolute whirl. “What need am I answering?” shot straight out of her mouth.

“My need to talk with you.”

His reply was so smooth, his expression shifting so swiftly to serious sincerity, Erin wondered if she'd imagined the hot flash of desire. But her skin was still tingling from it.

Fortunately the waitress arrived at their table to take their meal orders, diverting Peter Ramsey's attention and giving Erin a breathing space. She needed a blast of oxygen in her brain to clear her confusion and get some reasonable perspective on what had eventuated from this meeting so far.

She had paraded her wish to be desirable to him with blatant honesty.

He hadn't liked it.

Yet now…did he find a hard-to-get scenario more stimulating—the challenge of winning over resistance? Perhaps he'd had too many women offering themselves to him on a platter and he'd envisaged her being different—more of a novelty for him, like her choice of this restaurant.

She sighed.

Nothing in real life was simple.

Which was why she much preferred living in the stories she made up in her mind. She had total control over how her characters acted and what their response to each other would be.

“Erin?”

Peter's prompt snapped her out of fantasy and back to the immediate demands of the present. She smiled at the waitress. “I'll have the Chilli Jam Prawns.”

“You like hot?” Peter queried.

“Chilli Jam is more spicy than hot,” Erin informed him.

“I'll have the same,” he instructed the waitress who ticked off the order and departed to take it to the kitchen.

Peter flashed a devil-may-care grin at Erin. “I like spicy.”

Her stomach cramped, battling the butterflies that were suddenly swarming through it. That grin…the wickedly sexy sparkle in his eyes…he was applying
spicy
to her…had to be…yet…

She cocked her head, looking askance at him, trying to be more objective—sensible—about what Peter Ramsey was doing here. “Why do I get the feeling you're being adventurous tonight?”

He laughed and Erin felt the sheer joy of the sound rippling through her, stroking chords of pleasure that totally erased the dark swirl of confusion and left her earlier feelings about this man bubbling brightly in her mind.

He shone above every other man she'd met.

She wanted to experience everything about him.

So her best course was to try to relax and roll with whatever he wanted to say and do, see where it led.

S
HE
had that look of curious wonder in her lovely green eyes again—almost childlike in its wishful search for understanding.

It tugged at Peter. He barely resisted the urge to tell her, “You're my adventure, Erin Lavelle.”

That truth could very well offend her, make her withdraw from him, halt his progress in finding out more about her. So far, it was all good. No boyfriend. What family she had—divorced parents—had no strong claim on her. She was free to do whatever she chose, and tonight she'd chosen to have dinner with him before going off to a party.

Not that she would get to that party.

Peter was determined on holding her with him.

“Today has not been my usual scene,” he conceded, aware she wanted to be given a reasonable explanation for his actions. “But it has felt surprisingly good and I guess I want to finish it up still feeling good.”

“Why were you in the park?” she asked, pinning him down to detail.

Because you were there.

Would she be flattered to hear that?

Or frightened?

His hunting instincts warned it was better to get closer to her before showing his hand. He shrugged and answered, “The whim of a moment. I'd spent the morning at Randwick Racecourse, meeting with my trainer. The Autumn Racing Carnival is coming up and he wanted to discuss the form of the horses I own. I was driving back into the city, thinking what a beautiful day it was.” His smile invited her to smile back at him as he added, “The urge to stop and smell the roses came upon me.”

She laughed at his whimsy. “There are no roses in that park.”

“Fresh air then,” he supplanted. “You don't get fresh air and sunshine in boardrooms.”

Her eyes danced with amusement. “When was the last time you played hookey from your usual life?”

He shook his head. “I can't remember.”

“And it still feels good—” she gestured to their downmarket surroundings “—being here?”

His eyes lightly teased as he answered, “How could it not when a princess sweeps in, wanting to bring joy to a child for evermore?”

“Oh!” Her hands flew up to cup cheeks that suddenly bloomed rose-red. “You really were listening to me tell that story!”

“You had those children—and me—totally rapt.”

“You liked it?” She glowed with delight, as though such an accolade was totally unexpected and an immense pleasure.

“You have a very special gift, Erin,” he assured her.

“That's one of my favourite stories. I'm so glad it…” She stopped, frowned as though having second thoughts about the rush of uninhibited enthusiasm. Her lashes lowered and he caught the sense that she was hiding something from him.

“Go on,” he urged, wanting the happy animation on her face to return. It was so open and unaffected.

She flashed him a self-deprecating little smile and picked up her glass of water. “I was getting carried away by your compliment, Peter. And I do thank you for it, but let's talk about the Harper family now. That
is
what you came for.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it. He had come for her. He could have asked for and received a report on Dave's ex-wife over the telephone. But it was probably too soon for Erin to feel comfortable about being the sole focus of his attention. Better to get the Harper family issue out of the way first.

Adopting an expression of eager interest, he opened up with, “I presume your aunt used my business card and explained my intervention on Dave's behalf?”

“Not to begin with. She told Mrs Harper about Thomas's father turning up in the park and…” Erin frowned over the recollection. “It was weird, Peter. Instead of being angry or frightened or agitated…she looked triumphant as though he'd walked into a trap she'd set for him. Her body language was all hyped up eagerness as she asked if the police had been called to take him away.”

Peter nodded. “That fits with Dave's story. She wants Thomas to herself with Dave right out of both their lives, and she's pursuing every nasty ruse to bring about that outcome. I imagine your aunt was subjected to a blast of angry frustration when the answer was negative.”

“It was like a bomb going off.” The shock of it widened her eyes and coloured her voice as she described the reaction. “Abuse, threats, insults. Mrs Harper's face was red with fury by the time Sarah managed to cut through the tantrum, handing her your business card and relaying your support for Mr Harper.”

“What happened then?”

“Well, your name certainly knocked the stuffing out of her. She didn't want to believe it. Kept saying things like…How could Dave know him? Why would he stick his oar in? It's got nothing to do with him. Anyhow, Sarah told her you were very definitely taking an interest on Mr Harper's behalf. Then she got hysterical, almost screaming that it was her life and she was going to live it her way.”

“That fits, too,” Peter said, satisfied he was supporting a just case. “Dave said he always had to give in to her for the sake of peace, but he couldn't bear having his son taken from him.”

“I think she'll fight it right down to the wire,” Erin warned, “I think she's too used to getting her own way not to.”

“I don't doubt that. But I've put Dave in the hands of a lawyer who will ensure appropriate visiting rights and take the custody battle to court. It won't go all her way.”

His confidence clearly piqued her interest. “Why have you involved yourself, Peter? I mean…Mrs Harper had a point. Why stick your oar in when it's none of your business?”

“Do you disapprove?”

“No. Not at all. It's just…well…just not what people generally do, taking a stranger on board and doing what you can for him.”

She was impressed and intrigued by his generosity. Peter knew he could capitalise on her admiration but he never felt comfortable when money was behind it. “When you have all the advantages of great wealth at your fingertips, it's easy to play The Good Samaritan, Erin,” he said sardonically.

“I guess that's true,” she said slowly, thoughtfully. “But this wasn't just tossing money at him. You gave him your time, as well. Went out of your way to fix things for him.”

“I didn't want him to lose his son. It's not right what happens with divorce. Too many fathers are cast adrift without their family. I know if it happened to me I'd fight tooth and nail for my children.”

Erin believed him. The hard, ruthless edge in his voice, the brooding expression on his face, the glint of hell-bent determination in his eyes—the thought ran through her mind and shivered down her spine—heaven help the woman who tried to separate Peter Ramsey from his children! The Viking warrior would go into battle with a vengeance.

But would it be from a sense of possession or did he really intend to be a hands-on parent?

“Not all fathers want the responsibility of raising their children,” she said quietly. “They prefer to leave it to the mothers.”

A flash of hard mockery preceded a swift switch to the laser probing. “Is that your personal experience, Erin?”

“Yes, it is,” she conceded, adding her own touch of mockery as she explained. “My father is an academic, a professor of English, who lives in the rarefied world of literature. He takes it for granted that his needs will be looked after by a woman. A child's needs…” She shook her head, smiling wryly. “He only ever did what suited him and that was mainly talking books to me. Which I liked. But I was always aware that our relationship was limited to what he enjoyed doing. I didn't really exist for him beyond that bit of sharing. In fact, I rather painfully learnt…after my parents separated…there was no point in asking him for more.”

Peter grimaced. “A totally self-centred man. I'm sorry, Erin. We're not all like that.”

“No. And all women aren't like Mrs Harper.”

“Your mother didn't want you, either?”

Erin hesitated. Her comment on Thomas's mother had been aimed at what she sensed was a general cynicism about women, wanting him to review his attitude. Another probe into what was deeply personal to her made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. She'd just revealed more to Peter Ramsey about her childhood than she'd ever revealed to anyone. Somehow the issue with the Harper family had lured her into it…or was it the keen interest in the riveting blue eyes?

Did it matter if she told him how it had been for her? They were simply talking around the consequences of divorce. This was a one-off night in their lives so it was highly unlikely that any private information she gave him would come back to bite her in a discomfiting fashion. Besides, answering his questions gave her grounds for demanding he answer hers.

“I wouldn't go so far as to say my mother didn't want me, but she bitterly resented my father not doing his share, so she kept pushing me at him. In hindsight, I realise she hated having been displaced by another woman and used me to spike his new comfort zone as much as she could.”

“So your father left her.”

Erin sighed, remembering all the yelling and screaming that had preceded the separation, shutting herself in her bedroom, trying not to hear, desperately wishing it would stop. “My mother discovered he was having an affair and made it impossible for him to stay,” she said flatly.

“Sounds like she cared more about making him pay for his infidelity than she cared about you, Erin. Is that how it was?” Peter asked sympathetically.

She shrugged, her mind instinctively sheering away from the lonely steps of learning how to cope by herself, preferring not to ask anything of her parents than suffer more rejection from her father or a harangue from her mother about how difficult it was, being a single parent.

“I guess I learnt to detach myself from both of them. I think a lot of children become victims of the emotional crossfire that divorce invariably triggers.” She heaved another sigh, which drifted into an appreciative smile for his concern. “I hope Thomas gets to feel good with his father. And I hope his mother comes around to understanding that he needs both parents to love him.”

“I hope so, too.”

“So what about you, Peter?”

The question caught him by surprise. She could see he was still sifting through her personal experience of divorce, perhaps applying it to his Good Samaritan act and wondering if it would lead to a better life for Thomas Harper. He looked quizzically at her as he repeated, “What about me?”

“What's it like to have been born and raised as a prince, able to distribute largesse on a whim?”

She had tossed the question at him lightly but his face hardened as though she'd hit a raw nerve. “Does anyone really care about a prince as a person, or do they simply work at getting close and staying close for what he can do for them? What they can get out of him? The largesse they might be able to tap?” One eyebrow lifted in sardonic challenge. “You'd be surprised how lonely that life can be, Erin.”

She stared at him, wondering if his trust in friendship had been totally tainted by the wealth at his disposal. It was a sad situation if that was his reality. She could see why he'd feel good about giving to Dave Harper because it hadn't been expected of him, hadn't been asked for.

Their meals arrived. Once their plates were set in front of them and the waitress gone, Erin leaned forward to say, “I'll be paying for my dinner, Peter. I didn't come for a free ride.”

She'd come for something else entirely—an adventure with him.

“I did ask you to join me, Erin,” he pointed out, amused by her independent stance.

“My choice,” she reminded him. “Let's eat.”

The food was good; fresh vegetables lightly cooked, succulent king prawns, flavours enhanced by the spicy chilli jam. “Enjoying it?” she asked, hoping that her choice was to his liking.

“Mmm…very tasty.”

His eyes locked with hers for a moment, a bombardment of bright blue twinkles arousing the strong sensation he was once again applying the words to her, not the meal. She kept eating but the excitement racing around her mind made the action completely mechanical.

“Sure you wouldn't like a glass of wine?” he asked, lifting the bottle from the ice-bucket.

Erin shook her head, feeling she was intoxicated enough just being with him. When he replaced the bottle without refilling his glass, she said, “Please don't let me stop you from enjoying it.”

“I have to keep a clear head, too. I'm driving.”

Away from this meeting place.

The thought delivered a shaft of cold sanity. Erin once more berated herself for being so foolish as to think he might want to extend this connection with her. Hadn't he just more or less rebuffed her attempt to delve into his life? He was now assured he'd done the right thing by Dave and Thomas Harper. Once this dinner was over…and it was…both of them setting their emptied plates aside for the waitress to collect…there was no reason for him to prolong this encounter.