Seduction (24 page)

‘Whatever are you thinking, Megan?' Richard teased, his words undercut by a deeper affection than she remembered from all those years ago. ‘Come on, girl. Have your bath and
then Blake'll give you a massage that will make you sleep like a baby. Anyone would think we'd suggested an orgy.'

The bath felt divine, the perfect temperature mingled with scented oils. Used to the clinical neatness of her en-suite shower at home, Megan luxuriated in the claw-footed tub and closed her eyes until a knock sounded at the door.

‘I'm setting up out here. Just come in when you're ready,' said Blake.

Seriously, a massage before bed? What were they up to? All this pampering was liable to go to her head. She sank back in the water, watching it lap the underside of her breasts. She sank lower, letting the warm water creep up around her nipples and work its insidious fingers between her legs.

‘How did you end up doing massage?' she called out.

Blake laughed, the same slightly dirty, knowing laugh she remembered of old when she asked about a conquest or one of his affairs. ‘It came in handy. Turns out I have a knack.'

‘I bet you do,' she murmured to herself and ran splayed fingers over her stomach. Her skin had grown sensitive in the water. She shivered beneath her own touch.

She pulled on a baggy nightshirt before going out to face Blake. It wasn't stylish. It wasn't anything, but it covered her completely and that seemed important right now.

Blake stood over the bed. He didn't even look at her. ‘You'll need to take that off and lie down.' She paused, uncomfortable with his brisk attitude, and he looked up. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, not the sex smile she expected, but one of amusement and affection. ‘Don't worry. Trust me.'

‘A lot of women have fallen for that line, Blake,' she told him, trying to keep her tone light and wondering where the nervous edge had come from.

‘And not one of them has regretted it,' he assured her. He spread a towel out on the bed and lifted another so he
could cover her when she lay down. ‘Come on, love. It's me. I promise.'

‘Promise what?'

He laughed, a deep chuckle. ‘I promise not to do anything you don't want. What's wrong? Chicken?'

She did trust him, despite the ten years and his undiminished reputation. With a dramatic sigh, more for his benefit than hers, she pulled off the T-shirt and lay down. True to his word, his strong hands smoothed fragrant oils over her skin, working out the knots of tension in her shoulders and neck. Megan closed her eyes.

‘You still have the most beautiful skin tone I've ever seen,' he murmured. He had told her that, hadn't he? Years ago. Not long after they first met. She should have snapped back with some witty retort about his having seen enough bare flesh to be a good judge, but she didn't. His hands worked their magic, soothing her towards much-needed sleep. He brushed his fingertips in circles at the small of her back, tracing the spine lower, but not so low that she tensed.

Deep inside her, another voice – not her own, surely – gave a groan of dismay when he moved back. Her pulse pounded in her groin and she squeezed her thighs together to quell the rising heat. Blake took one of her feet in his strong grip and worked his fingers into the arch. Breath sighed from Megan's lungs and the tension ebbed. He took a little longer on the other foot. ‘You haven't been taking care of yourself, Meg,' he chided. ‘Long hours, hunched over a desk. We'll have to see about that.'

Too tired to argue, she drifted on the scented breeze while he manipulated her muscles, forcing her to succumb to the rest she needed.

She almost went to sleep lying there. Though she didn't open her eyes, she could hear Blake packing up. And the door, opening slowly, a cooler breeze coming from the corridor outside.

‘Is she asleep?' asked Daniel in a whisper. Blake must have nodded, for he gave no verbal reply. ‘You OK?' A grunt this time. And then . . .

She heard the sound of two bodies coming together, the soft thud as one pulled the other hard against him. And a kiss. There was no mistaking the sound of their kiss. She opened her eyes a crack to see Blake holding Daniel, their mouths moving together. Daniel gripped Blake's shoulders, but to pull him closer rather than push him away, and Blake, always the stronger, ran his oil-scented hands up Daniel's torso, pulling the shirt out of his waistband so they could slip underneath.

Daniel broke the kiss, gasping for breath. ‘Wait. If she wakes up . . .'

Blake glanced towards her, the hunger in his eyes disconcerting. Megan rolled as if in sleep, hiding her face from him, and fought to keep her breath even. ‘All right. But you owe me, Dan. Remember that.'

‘I do.' The new tone in Daniel's voice startled her. Completely submissive. ‘Richard has it all planned, Blake. Let's not fuck it up by . . .'

‘Fucking?' Blake laughed, that old cynicism weakened by the loss in his voice, the need. ‘We should never have let her go in the first place. Richard's right. You should have seen her in that office. Like another woman. Not our Meg.'

Our Meg
. She waited until they had left before rolling onto her back to gaze at the ceiling. Is that what they thought of her? As theirs? A possession? And what did Richard have ‘all planned'?

She sat up, reaching for the T-shirt. The spell of the evening wore off suddenly. They were up to something. None of this was a coincidence. They weren't just planning a fun weekend of reminiscences for old times' sake. They wanted something from her. Suspicion prickled her conscience and she dug out her phone, staring at the screen. If she rang anyone about this,
she wasn't sure she wanted the answers she might get. They were her friends. She wanted that friendship back. And yet . . . if this was a scam, if they were planning something . . .

Megan got the call she expected the following afternoon. Expected and dreaded because she knew it would lead to a showdown. And just for a little while, she had been able to forget about reality, forget about the world where people were only interested in the money, where they only looked out for themselves.

She woke long after breakfast and decided on a floral sundress a world away from her normal attire. Past noon. She hadn't slept so late in years. It felt positively decadent, or would have done if the information she had unearthed last night hadn't popped up to mock her whenever she started to unwind.

‘Fancy a walk?' asked Richard when she appeared downstairs. Before she knew it, they were all wandering through the old walled garden of the manor house and down to the edge of the lake.

After graduation they had come here, Richard's father happy to let them party through the night and into the next day. She remembered lying here, feeling the grass tickle her bare feet when she kicked off the high heels. Richard had passed her the champagne bottle. And Blake had said something which made her laugh. She'd nearly drenched herself in the stuff. Daniel had helped her wipe it up and they had known it was the last time they would be together like that. She remembered the moon on the water, the fizz of bubbles on her skin, the undercurrent of pleasure, of love. It was the first time she had felt regret, knowing that she wanted each of them, and had never done anything about it.

As she sat in the long grass, the sun warmed her skin but couldn't penetrate the dread that filled her.

‘What's wrong?' Daniel asked, rubbing her back gently, but she shook her head, staring at the water. ‘You can tell us, you know.'

‘You used to tell us everything.' Blake picked a long blade of grass and used it to tickle her ankle. She smiled thinly and moved out of his reach.

Richard just watched her, his eyes hooded. Megan refused to meet his gaze.

The jangling ring tone jolted her out of her reverie. ‘I have to ring the office back,' she told them. She expected a flash of guilt, or interest, but Richard gave no reaction. ‘Alone, guys. It's confidential.'

Blake made a face, but finally Richard nodded. ‘We'll be in the library. I'll fix some afternoon drinks, OK? Come up when you're ready.'

She waited until they had walked away then flicked the phone open to hit redial. ‘It's me.'

‘You were right,' said Derek, the company lawyer. ‘He's a shareholder. Not a major one, but he's involved.'

And the cold shell snapped shut around her heart. ‘Thanks. Leave it with me, OK?'

‘Do you want me to tell the board?'

‘No, I'll deal with it.'

She watched the sun glinting off the water. This had been her favourite place, her favourite memory of the three of them together.

And Richard had brought her back here, made her remember it and hope, so he could manipulate a business deal.

Sudden anger burned inside her. More than anger. Rage. How dare he use her? How dare he use their past? And the other two had to be in on it, from what she had heard last night. The image flared back into her mind: Blake and Daniel, locked together, a kiss that was partly a wrestling match. The most erotic thing she could ever recall seeing. Anger and desire inflamed each other.

She shook the sensations rippling through her body aside. She didn't have time for this. Marching back across the lawn, she planned her next move. She would pack her things and head back to town. There was nothing for her here, not now.

In the window of the library, Richard watched her, his arms folded across his chest, a proprietary stance, a commanding gaze.

Right, Mr Lord of the Manor
, she glared back and picked up her pace,
just wait until I tell you a thing or two
.

Megan burst into the library to find Richard pouring wine into delicate crystal glasses. Daniel sat by the fireplace, flicking through some huge leather-bound tome that might have outdated the house. And Blake lay across a chaise-longue, his eyes closed, like a great cat, not quite asleep. He looked up lazily at her dramatic entrance.

‘Bad news?'

‘Shut up, Blake,' she snapped, heading for Richard as if she were going to kiss him or punch him. And in that moment she didn't know which she wanted more. Instead, she slapped his face as hard as she could and shoved him back with her other hand. It felt like pushing against stone. ‘Were you going to tell me? How were you going to ask? Just get me to fix a few figures? Just make sure that your shares didn't dip?'

Richard moved faster than she had imagined he could, grabbing her wrists and holding her back from him. ‘What the hell are you talking about?'

‘I have to spell it out for you, do I? Parker House. My project. You've done all this to manipulate me so you'll either profit from Parker House or ruin my company, haven't you?'

He looked bewildered, but he didn't let go of her wrists. ‘I don't even know what Parker House is. Dad had shares in hundreds of companies, Megan. I have an accountant who keeps track of that.'

‘Sure. Then why I am here? Why after ten years do you waltz back into my life, the three of you?'

‘You really don't know?' asked Daniel. He closed the book and got slowly to his feet. ‘Meg . . .' Her name fell so softly from his sensuous mouth that she flinched. She wanted to look at him, but Richard held her wrists tightly, refusing to let her go.

She tried to pull away, anger pulsing inside her, but his grip tightened, which just made it worse. Then he kissed her.

Not a chaste brush of lips, not a fraternal peck. Richard pulled her hard against his body and kissed her the way she had watched the other two kiss last night, his mouth devouring her, churning a rising current of need she didn't want to acknowledge, couldn't afford to acknowledge. She squirmed, trying to get away from him, trying to get closer. Wanting him. Wanting to kiss him, wanting to slap him again. Just wanting him.

Richard let go and her legs almost went beneath her. She stumbled back and Blake caught her against his broad chest. Her body heaved for breath. She blinked, trying to clear her head.

‘And now do you know?' Richard asked.

‘Wh– what?'

Blake steered her back to the chair Daniel had vacated. It was still warm from his body, cradling her as she sank into it. But the shock wasn't over. Blake's hands closed on her shoulders, caressing the knotted muscles, brushing against the most sensitive areas and threatening to make her brain shut down entirely. Daniel knelt at her feet, his fingertips playing with the sensitive skin of her wrist. They gathered around her, watching her.

Richard approached her. Megan sat like a startled rabbit in the headlights of his suggestion. Their suggestion. On either side of her, Daniel and Blake didn't move. They watched her, a new, hungry glint in their eyes. Dark eyes, always her weakness. Blake's darker than Daniel's – Americano coffee to Ecuadorian chocolate – with Richard's eyes a startling blue in
comparison. Not one of the three had ever expressed an interest in her before this moment. Had they? She couldn't remember. Little side comments and half-jokes. Not seriously.

Richard stopped, towering over her. ‘We agreed back then that if any one of us took it further with you, Meg, it wasn't fair on the other two. And we had no wish to compete.'

‘No wish to . . .' she echoed, swallowing hard.

‘Not at the expense of our friendships. And yours.' A somewhat mischievous twinkle entered Richard's eyes. ‘Of course, we hadn't imagined the alternatives then. Life has . . . educated us all in ways we didn't expect.'

Megan's head lurched, bewildered by the closeness of three men she had fanatisised about for years. About all three of them.

But together?

Her stomach knotted in on itself. At the same time she felt a slow insistent warmth begin between her thighs, thrumming in time to her heartbeat and swelling with every breath. Liquid heat pooled in the core of her being.

‘I'm not sure I . . . I don't really . . .'

‘Understand?' Richard's laugh was deep and affectionate. It vibrated through her and made the growing ache even worse. ‘I beg to differ, Meg. I think you do.'