Книга - Playing at Love

Playing at Love
Jennifer Taylor


Two-week fiancée…Louise couldn't believe her good luck in winning a luxury trip to Florida. And meeting hunky tycoon Wyatt Lord had seemed and unexpected bonus. Unfortunately, it soon became clear Wyatt wasn't interested in romance–only business. He wanted Louise but only as a temporary fiancée to secure a deal. Even pretending to be Wyatt's intended bride was tempting–if only Louise could convince him that this was one game he should play for keeps!







“Which room are you in?” (#u7420a70f-ee01-5616-b208-e9f21733f347)About the Author (#u2870da87-5771-5705-81ea-26cf29f6c8db)Title Page (#u184f1679-c4ed-5a3a-ad09-7699e4187f41)CHAPTER ONE (#ub4fcb200-5c2a-53e0-9fb1-7d555f852241)CHAPTER TWO (#u452e0e13-db19-5499-9d01-8e1b20e6c942)CHAPTER THREE (#ue7083c0a-565b-51b1-a674-66117a5951ad)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


“Which room are you in?”

“Seven-thirteen.”

Louise gasped in surprise. “Why, that’s next door to me.”

Wyatt’s eyes opened slowly, something glittering in their depths that chilled her to the bone. “I know.”

How could he manage to make a simple statement sound like an accusation? And why should he want to?


Jennifer Taylor was born in Liverpool, England, and still lives in the northwest, several miles outside the city. Books have always been a passion of hers, so it seemed a natural choice to choose a career in librarianship—a wise decision, as the library is where she met her husband, Bill. Twenty years and two children later, they are still happily married, with the added bonus that she has discovered how challenging and enjoyable writing romantic fiction can be!




Playing at Love

Jennifer Taylor







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


CHAPTER ONE

SHE’D noticed the man before, several times if she was honest. Only that morning she’d passed him on the terrace and smiled a greeting, but he’d cut her dead. His pale blue eyes had been cold as ice as they’d skimmed her face before he’d slipped on the mirrored sunglasses he habitually wore. Mortified by such a deliberate slight, Louise had hurried on her way, silently promising never to put herself in the position whereby he could do the same again, but as her gaze shifted back to him now it seemed she just might have to break that promise.

Despite the deep tan, his face was pale, his mouth beneath the heavy black moustache drawn into a thin line of white, beads of perspiration gleaming on his forehead. It was obvious to her practised eyes that he was in some kind of discomfort and, while she didn’t relish the thought of inviting another put-down, she couldn’t sit there and ignore the fact that he might be ill.

Reluctantly she got up and glanced round the hotel’s deserted foyer, wishing that Carol were there to lend her support, but her friend had left over half an hour before to meet Simon and spend the evening at one of Miami’s hot spots. There was only her left to offer help, it seemed.

‘Are you all right?’ She bent over the tall figure slumped in the chair, jumping nervously as his eyes opened and he glared up at her.

‘Does it look as though I am?’ he snarled through pain-stiffened lips. ‘I should have thought it was obvious how I feel. Now if you don’t mind, I don’t feel like making small talk right now.’

Louise took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand her ground when what she really felt like doing was turning tail and running from such open hostility. Pain did odd things to a person, as she knew only too well from her nursing experience. She would give him the benefit of the doubt...just once.

‘Would you like me to call someone—a doctor, perhaps?’

‘No! What I want is for you to leave me alone. Understand? Aghhh!’ He doubled over, his face going ashen, his eyes closing as a sudden violent spasm hit him, and Louise decided there and then that enough was enough. Sometimes one had to act against a person’s wishes for his own good.

Briskly she slipped a hand under his elbow, her voice cool yet commanding as she waited for the attack to pass then started to urge him to his feet ‘I understand that you are ill, and, frankly, that’s all I need to understand. Just tell me which room you’re in and I’ll help you back there; then we can decide if you need a doctor or not.’

‘We? When did this become a joint decision? Who asked you to poke your nose in where it’s not wanted, Miss...?’ He paused, although whether out of a desire to learn her name, which she rather doubted, or because a fresh bout of pain almost bent him double again, Louise had no real way of knowing. However, rather than labour the point with him in such a state, she volunteered the information anyway.

‘Carter. Louise Carter. Now do you think you can stand by yourself or shall I see if I can find a porter to help?’

He cursed volubly, perspiration trickling down his face to catch in the thick hair on his upper lip. ‘I don’t need a porter! I don’t need anyone. And I especially don’t need you here playing the Good Samaritan, if indeed that’s the role you’re playing now!’

There was just something about the way he said that, just the tiniest inflexion in his deep voice, that made Louise wonder exactly what he meant, before she pushed it to the back of her mind. He might not need her help, but by heavens he was going to get it. He’d annoyed her just enough to make certain of that!

She took her hand away from his arm, smiling sweetly as she watched him sink heavily back down on to the chair. ‘Please yourself, of course. If you would rather stay here, then obviously that’s up to you.’ She ran a hand over her short dark curls, her grey eyes reflecting a hint of distaste as she glanced around the lobby then let them drift back to his face. ‘I would hate the idea of being ill in such a public place as this, but if it doesn’t bother you then that’s fine.’ She shrugged lightly, then turned to pick up her bag from the table and head towards the lifts.

‘Wait a minute!’

There was a rasp of authority in the deep voice now that turned what might have been intended as a request into an order, and Louise took immediate and unreasonable exception to it. Her spine stiffened imperceptibly and she carried on walking, the heels of her cream leather sandals clicking angrily on the marble floor.

‘Miss...Carter, wait!’ There was a small but noticeable pause before he added quietly, ‘Please.’

Louise hesitated, one slender hand resting on the black button that would summon the lift. All she had to do was press it and take the lift up to her room, then she could put this whole unpleasant incident behind her. It wasn’t as though she was under any obligation to help him. It had been purely out of the goodness of her heart that she had offered to do so in the first place. No one would blame her for walking away, not after the way he had spoken to her. So why was she standing there hesitating? Why did she find it quite so hard to leave? Because he’d said please? Or because, despite the coldness of his blue eyes and the lines of pain contorting his face, he was possibly the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever seen?

The sheer irrationality of the thought brought her spinning round, her eyes wide, her creamy-tanned skin tinged with colour, and she was lost the very moment she saw him standing there, swaying perilously. She ran back across the room and looped his arm around her shoulders, steadying him with her far smaller frame when he almost fell. He was very tall, tall and well built, with powerful shoulders straining against the thin silk of his white shirt and a muscular chest that tapered down to a trim waist. It took all Louise’s strength to hold him up as she wrapped her arm around the back of his waist as he took an unsteady step forwards.

‘Slowly, now. Just take your time,’ she murmured softly, using the very tone she’d used a thousand times before to a thousand different patients, only this time, instead of having a soothing effect, it seemed to have just the opposite.

‘I am taking my time! I’m not in any fit state to do otherwise, am I? Perhaps you could control that irritating tendency you have to offer unnecessary advice, if it isn’t too much to ask.’

Louise stiffened at the unpleasant note in the man’s voice. Her fingers curled into the hard flesh at his waist, digging in deeper as her temper started to rise. ‘I shall be delighted to if you’ll agree to curb that foul temper of yours. Now come along. The sooner this is over with, obviously the happier we shall both be.’

She urged him forwards, closing her eyes to the rasping sound of his breathing, the burning heat of his body pressed against hers. He might be ill, but he wasn’t going to get much sympathy from her, not after such ingratitude!

‘If you could just get your fingers out of my ribs, then maybe I could breathe a bit better. And do you think you could slow down? It may have escaped your notice, but I’m not in any fit state to run the four-minute mile right now.’

He might be feeling ill, but obviously it hadn’t affected his tongue! He could still summon up enough sarcasm to make her want to do something totally unprofessional! Louise glared up at him, her angry gaze tangling with his for no longer than a heartbeat before she looked away, feeling...well, shaken. All he’d done was glare back at her, his dark brows drawn together, his lips set into a thin, uncompromising line of displeasure. So why did she suddenly feel breathless, the blood singing along her veins? She must be more upset by his rudeness than she’d realised.

Annoyance ran through her and she slid out from beneath his arm, watching dispassionately as he made a grab for a nearby chair and hung on grimly. ‘If you prefer to manage by yourself, then carry on. I can think of any number of more interesting ways to pass the evening than spending it helping an ungrateful, carping bore like you.’

His knuckles gleamed white from the effort of holding himself upright, but his eyes were deadly as they swept her angry face with icy contempt. ‘I’m quite sure you can.’ He smiled tightly, his lips drawing back from strong white teeth in an expression that held little sign of amusement ‘Far more interesting and far more lucrative, isn’t that right? But while I hate to curtail your night-time activities, Miss Carter, I am forced to point out that you started this by poking your pretty little nose in in the first place. So may I suggest that you finish it? Look on it as the ideal opportunity to perfect that caring little act of yours.’

What did he mean? What act? And how could her evenings be classified as lucrative? Unless he’d seen her in the hotel’s casino last night. She’d spent no more than ten dollars at the gaming tables, and that more to pass the time than out of any hope of winning. Perhaps he imagined that was how she usually passed her time. Either that or he was rambling from the fever he was running.

It was the thought of the fever that decided her. She caught his arm and draped it across her shoulders again as she started towards the lift. She might not like his attitude, but there was no way she could ignore six years of nursing experience and training. Until she could hand him over into someone else’s care he was her responsibility.

‘Which room are you in?’ She pressed the button to summon the lift, flexing her shoulders as he leant against the wall and closed his eyes as they waited for it to arrive.

‘Seven-thirteen.’

Louise gasped in surprise. ‘Why, that’s next door to me.’

His eyes opened slowly, something glittering in their depths that chilled her to the bone. ‘I know.’

How could he manage to make a simple statement sound like an accusation? And why should he want to? Just what did he have against her, apart from the fact that she’d made the mistake of smiling at him that morning and then offered to help him tonight?

Louise searched his face, but there was nothing there to supply an answer as he closed his eyes again and slumped against the wall. He groaned suddenly, one large hand pressed flat to his stomach, a flush of colour tingeing his angular cheekbones, and she studied him in consternation.

‘Look, I really do think you need a doctor. Let me see if I can find someone to call one out. You don’t know what could be wrong with you.’

He shook his head, running his hand over his forehead to wipe away the beads of perspiration. ‘No doctor. I don’t need one.’

‘Why? Because it might ruin the macho image to admit you’re ill?’ There was a sting to her words, and his eyes opened at once to centre disturbingly on her face.

‘I don’t need a doctor because I know exactly what is wrong with me. It has nothing whatsoever to do with image.’ His eyes travelled the length of her slender body, lingering meaningfully on the simple lines of her cream dress with its delicate white lace collar before lifting back to hers with mockery in their depths. ‘We don’t all put on an act, Miss Carter, as you obviously do.’

Perhaps it was her own fault for starting it, but she didn’t like the way he said that, nor the way he was looking at her! For a moment Louise battled with a desire to tell him exactly what she thought, before swallowing the heated words. It would achieve nothing to start an argument, only prolong this whole unpleasant episode, which was the last thing she wanted.

‘What is wrong with you, then?’ she asked quietly, ignoring the way one thick dark brow winged upwards with amusement when he realised she wasn’t going to retaliate.

‘Squid.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ She stared at him in astonishment.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair to push it back from his damp forehead. ‘I ate out tonight at a seafood restaurant. I specifically ordered that there should be no squid in the meal, but...’ He shrugged, then grimaced faintly as he clutched his stomach again. ‘I seem to be allergic to squid.’

‘Yet you still took a chance by opting for that kind of meal? How could you have been so foolhardy? Surely you could taste the squid so why did you eat it?’

‘No, I couldn’t taste it The fish was done in some kind of heavy sauce, and in fact I ended up leaving most of it, but obviously the damage had been done by then. I don’t expect this sort of mistake to be made when I have given specific instructions to guard against it. However, that is immaterial now. I shall deal with the restaurant tomorrow.’ He straightened with obvious effort as the lift arrived. ‘Now if you have quite finished with the lectures as to what I should and shouldn’t eat, is it too much to ask you to help me up to my room?’

A shiver ran through Louise as she took his arm, barely conscious of responding to the order. She wouldn’t like to be in that chef’s shoes tomorrow! Whoever he was, this man would be the wrong man to cross, so pity help the staff at that restaurant when he’d got through ‘dealing’ with them!

Within minutes they were outside his room. Louise steadied him against the wall, then took the key from his hand and unlocked the door, shooting a worried look at him when she felt the heat of his skin. Despite his temperature, she could see shivers racking his body, a sure sign that the allergic reaction had nowhere near run its course. Could she really in all conscience leave him alone with no one to help if he got worse?

She sighed as she opened the door and walked inside to switch on the lamps, casting a golden glow across the thick white carpet and white silken spread that covered the king-sized bed. His room was almost a duplicate of hers—huge, airy, the pale sea-green walls adding just the perfect hint of delicate colour. She would give anything just to say goodnight, go to her own room, and enjoy the quiet luxury but her infuriating conscience wouldn’t allow her to do that now that it was in full flight. The man was ill, and she couldn’t leave him; it went against everything she’d ever been taught. Decision made, she turned back to the door and took his arm to help him over to the bed, watching as he sank down on it with a sigh of weariness. He was obviously feeling rotten, and it had probably only been will-power that had kept him going this long—that and a generous measure of sheer bad temper. The very least she could do was try to make him comfortable.

‘Do you want me to help you into bed?’ she offered quietly.

‘No, I damned well don’t! Look, Miss Carter, perhaps you mean well. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I would appreciate it if you would just leave. Thank you for what you have done, and rest assured that I shall see that you are suitably reimbursed for your time and effort.’

She drew back as though he had struck her, her eyes blazing at the insult. ‘I don’t want reimbursing! You can keep your money, Mr Ungrateful!’

‘And have you making some claim on me at a later date? I don’t think so. I know your type only too well, and I’m not fool enough to leave myself open like that.’ His eyes closed and he sank back against the pillows. ‘Now just get out of here, will you?’

There was a point when even the noisiest conscience should be silenced, and she had reached it. Without another word, Louise turned on her heel and strode towards the door, every nerve tingling with fury. How dared he speak to her like that? Just who did he think he—?

‘And don’t slam the door when you leave!’

She paused at the sound of that harsh, deep voice, her hand resting lightly on the door-handle, her brow puckering into a small frown. How had he guessed what she’d been only vaguely contemplating? She glanced round at where he was lying on the bed, trying hard to recall any previous, if fleeting, feelings of compassion for what he must be suffering, but funnily enough they all seemed to have disappeared.

A rather malicious smile curved her generous mouth and she took a slow, invigorating breath...then slammed the door behind her as hard as she could, listening to the muttered curse that echoed after it with a quite unworthy feeling of satisfaction.

It might have been petty, it was definitely childish, but by heaven it made her feel a whole lot better!

It was the crash that woke her, the sharp, nervestretching sound of glass shattering.

Louise reached for the small travel clock and peered at the illuminated dial for several seconds before her brain could make sense of it. Two a.m. What an unearthly hour to be woken up.

She rolled over and glanced at the twin bed next to hers, not really surprised to see that it was empty. Obviously Carol hadn’t come back yet, and who could blame her? Meeting Simon again like that on the plane had been a heaven-sent opportunity for her, and Louise wasn’t selfish enough to resent her friend making the most of it. It was just that it left her out on a limb.

She sat up, pushing the silky dark curls back from her face as she drew up her knees and rested her forehead against the cool, smooth satin. She’d been so excited about winning this holiday for two in Miami; it had seemed like a dream come true. Two weeks of luxury in a top-class hotel, all expenses paid. She’d be nothing short of ungrateful if she admitted that the hotel wasn’t quite what she would have chosen. It catered mainly for an older, wealthy clientele, retired couples who enjoyed the quiet luxury of the elegant surroundings. Of course it would have been different if Carol had been around more, but Simon had claimed most of her time since they’d arrived, whisking her back to his hotel at the other side of town.

Louise knew only too well how her friend felt about him, having spent many unhappy evenings over the past months with Carol pouring her heart out to her. She was glad they had found each other again, but she did sometimes wish it hadn’t been on this side of the Atlantic!

Still, she hadn’t really been that lonely. Through force of circumstance she’d made friends with a few people who’d been on the same flight, and they’d made it their business to see that she wasn’t left on her own all the time. It was just that she sometimes longed for someone of her own age to talk to. Apart from herself, Carol and the man in the next room there was no one under the age of fifty in the hotel.

At the thought of the man she sat bolt upright, suddenly remembering the noise that had woken her. Had it come from his room? If so, what had happened?

She jumped out of bed and pressed her ear to the connecting wall between the two rooms, but there was no sound from the other side. Was he sleeping, or had the sound she’d heard been him falling as he’d got up, possibly to summon help? Despite his objections, she’d phoned down to the desk before she’d got into bed and requested that a doctor should call to see him, but had he been yet? Even now the man might be lying there, too weak to move.

There was no way she would sleep now with so many unanswered questions whirling inside her head, so she dragged on the silky blue robe that matched her gown and crept from her room to tap on his door, waiting with a mounting impatience for him to answer. She chewed on her lip, weighing the choices of calling Reception again to ask for help or leaving well alone. If he was asleep then he wouldn’t welcome being disturbed, and frankly, she’d borne enough of his foul temper to last a lifetime, but if he was ill ...?

She turned to hurry back to her room and call the desk, then gasped when her foot caught on something sharp lying on the floor. She bent down to see what it was, then realised she might just have found the solution to the dilemma as she picked up the key. It must have fallen from the lock when she’d slammed the door before, and now it was just what she needed. She would take a quick look in his room, check he was all right, then leave.

The room was in darkness, just a faint glow from the window reflecting eerily off the mirrored vanity unit. Holding her breath, Louise crept towards the bed, neatly side-stepping the shattered remains of the Tiffany lamp that had been standing on the bedside table. That breaking must have been the sound that had woken her. Now if she could just check that he was all right, then she could leave.

He was lying on top of the bed, his long legs tangled up in the satin spread. He’d managed to undress down to a pair of dark boxer shorts, his muscular chest bare and gleaming like moulded bronze in the dim light. Louise felt a strange tightness in her chest as she stared down at the man’s near-naked body, and it shocked her. She’d seen naked bodies, both male and female, more times than she could count, so what was different about him?

It was purely out of a desire to answer that question that she allowed her eyes to travel down from the wide shoulders and over that perfectly sculpted torso, then carry on across the slimness of his hips, the muscular hardness of his thighs and down the length of his legs to his large, well-shaped feet. It was purely a thirst for knowledge, not any desire simply to enjoy this embodiment of masculine perfection. There was no need for her to feel guilty when she looked up and saw that his eyes were open and he was watching her, but she did!

‘What are you doing here?’ His voice was hoarse, so low that she had to bend closer to hear him, and she found herself answering just as quietly.

‘I heard a crash. I thought you might need help.’

‘I knocked the lamp over.’ He glanced sideways, his eyes faintly glazed as they turned back to her. ‘I’m thirsty.’

He sounded so different now, his voice rasping softly, sensuously, as he uttered the plaintive statement. Louise felt something warm and almost tender flow through her. She smiled down at him, her eyes softening as she studied his flushed face, the beads of perspiration on his forehead and scattered among the dark hairs that covered his chest. ‘No wonder. You’re still running a temperature. Lie still and I’ll get you something to drink.’

She hurried over to the small built-in fridge and sorted quickly through the contents until she found a bottle of mineral water. She poured some into a glass and carried it back to him, slipping an arm behind his shoulders to help him up so that he could drink. He took a few thirsty swallows before she took the glass away and set it down on the bedside table. ‘That’s enough for now. You don’t want to make yourself sick.’

He grimaced as he sank against the pillows and ran a hand over his face. ‘I doubt if I could be, not after the past couple of hours. I must have broken records for the number of times I’ve been sick, but the doctor said that it was the best thing that could happen.’

‘So he did come, then?’

‘Yes. I take it that you called him?’ He sighed at her nod. ‘There wasn’t any need. He couldn’t give me anything, just told me to drink as much fluid as I could. I just wish I didn’t feel so damned hot.’

‘You’re bound to while your body is still fighting the effects of that squid.’ Automatically she ran a hand down the firm muscles on his upper am, testing the heat of his skin. ‘You could do with sponging down.’

‘If that’s an offer, then I’ll take you up on it.’ He closed his eyes, looking so helpless for a moment that Louise barely stopped to consider what she was doing. She cast one quick glance at him, then hurried through to the bathroom and filled the basin to soak one of the washcloths in cool water. His eyes were still closed when she walked back into the bedroom, but they opened when she started to wipe the cloth over his face and down the strong column of his neck.

‘That feels good,’ he murmured huskily, his pale blue eyes so light and clear in the faint light from the window that they looked like washed silver. ‘You have a marvellous touch, Miss Carter, although I imagine that there have been many men who’ve told you that.’

Her hand stilled for a second, her fingers resting lightly against the base of his neck, where she could feel a pulse tapping steadily. Had there been just the faintest hint of double meaning in that? But if so, what?

‘Surely you’re not shy about carrying on with your ministrations?’

The husky question woke her from the trance and her hand moved on, sliding the damp cloth across his shoulders, back and forth, taking the heat out of his skin. She forced the momentary unsettling thought to the back of her mind, smiling calmly down at him. ‘No, I’m not shy. I must have done this hundreds of times, Mr...’ She laughed faintly, suddenly conscious of how ludicrous the situation was. ‘Do you know that I don’t have any idea what your name is?’

‘No?’ He raised one dark brow in that mocking way she was learning to recognise, if not understand, then slowly his heavy lids lowered and he settled himself deeper into the pillows. ‘Wyatt. That’s my name. Wyatt.’

‘Well, then, Mr Wyatt, just lie still and rest. There’s no need to feel embarrassed about letting me help you. It’s just a sensible precaution to lower that temperature of yours.’

‘Oh, I’m not embarrassed, Miss Carter. Far from it. I’m sure that you are very experienced in this kind of thing. I shall enjoy reaping the benefits of that.’

The conversation was turning into a riddle, twisting and turning backwards and forwards so that she wasn’t certain what he was saying. A frown puckered her brow, but she carried on sponging him down, her hands moving smoothly and confidently as she stroked the damp cloth over his skin time and again until the steady, measured sound of his breathing told her that he had fallen asleep.

She ran a hand lightly over his chest and shoulders, then felt his forehead with the back of her knuckles. He was much cooler now, his skin barely warmer than her own. Obviously it had done the trick, but she was well aware that his temperature could rise again very quickly, undoing all her good work. She’d wait a while to see how he was then.

She tossed the wet cloth on to the bedside table, then went and sat down in the chair by the window and ran a hand wearily over her face as tiredness enveloped her. She yawned then grimaced, fighting to keep her eyes open and not give in to the almost overwhelming desire to fall asleep. There would be time enough for that later, once she was sure that he was all right. She could go back to her room and sleep the clock round...


CHAPTER TWO

THIS time it was a knock at the door that disturbed her. Louise muttered crossly, keeping her eyes tightly closed as she tried to blot out the irritating sound.

‘Can you get that if you’re awake?’

The deeply masculine voice roused her in a trice. She sat bolt upright, then groaned as her head spun with dizziness. For a blank second she stared down at the chair she was sitting in, then looked round the room she’d been using for almost a week now, confused by the strangeness of it all. Why was the door suddenly on the opposite side of the room? And surely that picture above the tall chest of drawers had been of flowers last time she’d looked, not birds?

Puzzled, her eyes moved on, taking stock of the furnishings, the huge double bed... Her heart leapt into her throat, beating so hard that for a moment she was afraid she would suffocate. Slowly, reluctantly, her gaze slid back to the satin bedspread and travelled across it inch by disbelieving inch. There wasn’t a double bed in her room, so where was she?

The question was quickly followed by the answer—approximately six feet of answer, to be precise. For a stunned minute Louise just stared at the man who emerged from the bathroom, a white towel fastened low around his lean hips. Then in a fast, heart-shaking sweep her eyes ran from the top of his damp black hair to the tips of his naked feet before coming back to rest helplessly on his face.

‘The door,’ he repeated slowly, and icily. ‘Do you think you can answer it?’

‘I...’ Louise scrambled to her feet, staring blankly round the room, and heard him mutter something uncomplimentary as he strode past her. She ran a trembling hand over her hot face, trying to make sense of what was happening, and almost groaned aloud as she remembered the events of the previous night. How could she have been so careless as to let herself fall asleep like that?

‘Surprise! Wyatt, darling, I know I should have called first, but I was just dying to see you, so...here I am!’

The breathlessly eager note in the woman’s voice made Louise wince with embarrassment, although she knew that she was in no position to criticise. She took a slow breath and forced herself to turn towards the door, studying the vision of female beauty who stood framed in its opening. Perfect blonde hair, perfect smooth, pale skin, perfect tailored white trousers and navy spotted blouse, everything about the woman was perfect—too perfect, in fact She looked like a mannequin as she stood there, resting one slender pink-tipped hand on the man’s bare shoulder as she smiled up at him.

‘You don’t really mind me coming, do you, darling?’ Her voice dropped a note, openly seductive now.

‘It might have been better if you’d called, Carling.’ He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes fastening on Louise with a touch of deliberation in the look. ‘It isn’t the most convenient of times for a surprise visit.’

‘Not convenient...?’ The woman’s gaze followed his, her eyes widening when they came to rest on Louise standing by the side of the tumbled bed. In a fast, almost disbelieving curve, they ran across the rumpled satin spread, then over Louise’s body in the pale blue gown and robe, and Louise decided there and then to nip whatever ideas the stranger was getting in the bud.

She pushed her ruffled hair back from her face, forcing a polite smile as she took a step towards the couple, who were standing close together by the door. ‘Hello,’ she said softly. ‘I know this must seem awfully—’

‘Darling, you don’t have to explain. Carling understands about these things.’ The man’s voice was smooth as silk as he moved away from the woman and started back across towards Louise, yet his eyes held a hard glint that robbed Louise of the ability to speak for a moment. Confused, she stared back at him, then gasped as he slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so that she could feel the warmth of his big body all down the side of her breast and hip, smell the clean fragrance of soap that clung to his skin. The sensations made her feel almost giddy by their very unfamiliarity, and he took full advantage of the moment. His hand slid under her chin, warm and firm as he tilted her face and stared into her startled eyes for a moment then bent and kissed her hard on the mouth.

When he raised his head Louise couldn’t have spoken to save her life, too stunned by what he’d done and the effect one kiss could have. She’d been kissed before many times, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling as though her heart was going to beat itself to pulp inside her chest.

She breathed slowly, willing herself to find the strength to handle this unexpected twist, but didn’t have time to utter a single word before the man continued in that same smooth-as-silk tone, ‘I think I should introduce you two ladies, don’t you?’ He laughed softly, intimately, as his arm clasped Louise’s shoulders even tighter. ‘Louise, darling, I’d like you to meet Carling Hutton. Her father owns this hotel and the rest of the chain I’m negotiating to buy at present. Carling...my fiancée, Louise Carter.’

She couldn’t have felt more stunned if he’d hit her! Louise just stared at him, her eyes black with shock, before suddenly coming to her senses. This whole episode was fast turning into one of those Whitehall farces her parents had used to love so much: all it would need now was an irate husband with a shot-gun bursting into the room to complete the scene! But if he thought that she was going along with whatever he was plotting he could think again!

She pulled away from him, her face flushed with colour. ‘Look, I’ve no idea what you think you’re doing, but—’

He smiled as he pressed a long finger against her lips to stern the heated flow of words. ‘I know, I know, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything about our engagement until we’ve had time to tell your parents the marvellous news, but Carling is a trusted friend. She wouldn’t dream of letting the cat out of the bag and spoiling the surprise. Would you, Carling?’

There was a momentary pause, then the woman spoke, a smile pasted to her pink-tinted lips. ‘Of course not, Wyatt. You know I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to spoil your...happiness. Congratulations to you both. I must admit this has come as a bit of a surprise. I don’t know how you managed to keep your...friendship with Miss Carter from the Press, Wyatt. They’re usually keen to keep abreast of what the great Wyatt Lord gets up to.’

There was just the faintest trace of scepticism in the woman’s voice, but Louise was less concerned with that than the fact that not only did she suddenly have a fiancé, but that she hadn’t even known his real name. Wyatt Lord. She rolled the name round and round as she studied his handsome face, the clean-cut lines of his profile, but she couldn’t ever remember hearing of him before.

‘I think the Press have started to give up on me lately.’ He laughed deeply, catching Louise’s hand to twine his fingers with hers. ‘I’ve been a bit of a recluse over recent months, and I have this little lady to thank for that.’

Louise winced at the endearment and tried to snatch her hand away. She was nobody’s ‘little lady’, and especially not his, and it was about time she made that clear! ‘Look, this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? I have no idea what—’

Once again he stopped her, pulling her into his arms to hold her so close that she could barely breathe as he kissed her with punishing hardness, his eyes glittering a warning as he stared down at her. ‘You mustn’t be embarrassed, honey. I know this isn’t the way we planned it to happen, but...’ He shrugged lightly, his arms dropping to loop around the back of her waist and keep her pressed tightly against him as he looked over her head at Carling. Louise could feel every inch of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of her robe and gown, could feel the dampness of the towel that covered his hips, the strength of his thighs where they touched hers, and her mouth went dry at the sheer intimacy of what he was doing. Kisses and a little light lovemaking she’d experienced and could handle, but this...this was something way beyond her limited experience!

She barely heard him when he carried on speaking, too busy trying to cope with the multitude of mixed emotions she was feeling: embarrassment, anger and a strange heady languor, a feeling that she wanted to stay in his arms, pressed against his powerful body, forever...

Her head jerked up, her face flaming at the thought, and she suddenly came to her senses in time to hear him say softly, ‘I’m afraid that nature took care of the rest. We didn’t mean to pre-empt our wedding night, but after all Louise’s tender care last night when I was so ill... I’m sure you understand, Carling, don’t you? And don’t feel that Louise should be feeling embarrassed or ashamed of what happened this morning.’

Oh, enough was enough! She might not have followed the conversation from start to finish, but it didn’t take a genius to work out what he’d been telling the other woman. If he imagined that she was going to allow Carling to leave this room thinking that she and Wyatt Lord had slept together, then he could think again.

Louise tried again to set the record straight, only this time it was Carting who stopped her. She moved across the room, her mouth curved into a smile of understanding that did little to disguise the hatred burning in her green eyes as she stared back at Louise. Close to, she was younger than Louise had imagined she was, the skilful make-up and polished appearance lending her a sophistication more suited to someone in her late twenties. Louise would put her age at less than that—nineteen, possibly twenty, but no more.

‘Of course not! Wyatt’s right, Louise, you shouldn’t feel at all uncomfortable about me coming up here and finding you in his room.’

Why did that bland, polite statement make her feel like squirming? Louise had no idea, just the sure and certain knowledge that that had been Carling Hutton’s intention. Anger raced through her, stealing away the ability to think rationally and weigh up her actions, to see them as the folly they undoubtedly were. ‘Thank you, Carling. I may call you that, I hope?’ She pouted gently, then let her hands trail up Wyatt Lord’s chest, her nails tangling in the thick curls of hair as she twisted one slowly and, she hoped, lovingly around her finger as she stared up at him with the most limpidly besotted expression she could muster. ‘It’s good to know that you have such understanding friends, darling. I’m sure Carling and I will find a lot in common once we get to know one another better.’

His eyes were murderous as he grasped her wandering hand and held it so hard that Louise had to bite back a moan of pain. ‘I’m sure you will, my love. However, now isn’t really the time to start building on that friendship. I’m sure Carling will understand if we cut short this meeting.’

‘Of course.’ Carling laughed lightly, a tinkly sound that grated on Louise’s nerves. ‘I’m sure Louise is just dying for me to leave so that she can get showered and changed.’ She shuddered delicately as she smoothed a hand over her perfect blonde mane of hair. ‘There’s nothing worse than being caught out, is there, Louise?’

Up until then Louise had barely spared a thought for her appearance; now she was suddenly achingly conscious of the tumbled state of her dark curls, the naked shine of her bare face, the creases in the blue gown and robe she’d fallen asleep in. She lifted a hand to smooth one stray curl back from her face, then dropped it again as she saw the expression of triumph on the other girl’s face. As Carling swept towards the door she paused in the doorway. ‘So I’ll leave you to get sorted out now. Don’t forget that we’re expecting you tonight, Wyatt. And Louise, of course. Daddy is going to be thrilled when I tell him about your engagement. I’m sure he will want to organise some sort of a party while you’re with us on Paradise. Ciao.’

The door closed softly, the sound echoing almost painfully in the sudden silence. Louise took one long deep breath, then another for good measure, then pushed herself out of Wyatt Lord’s arms.

‘I don’t know what that was all about, Mr Lord,’ she began stormily, twin spots of colour burning angrily in her cheeks, ‘and I don’t think I really want to know! I just want to tell you that I have never...never...been so...so...insulted in the whole of my life!’

‘No?’ He raised a mocking brow, his eyes cold as they skimmed her flushed face. ‘If you carry on living the way you have been, then I’m sure time will remedy that.’

He turned to walk back through to the bathroom, but Louise caught his arm, her fingers leaving white pressure marks against his tanned skin. ‘And what do you mean by that? Look, you’ve done nothing but throw veiled insults at me since we met, but why?’

‘I think this discussion can wait until I’m dressed, don’t you?’

She hung on tightly, her face burning with anger as she glared back at him. ‘It’s not waiting for anything! Understand? I spent the best part of the night here taking care of you, and all I get for my pains is insults, and I want to know why. The same as I want to know what you thought you were doing telling that woman that we...we...’

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words, but he had none of her reservations. ‘Slept together? Come on, why put on this little act? Outraged virginal modesty sits oddly on your shoulders, Louise. Why pretend that we don’t both know what you’re up to here in this hotel?’ He held her gaze for a second, then removed the towel from around his hips, smiling coldly at her shocked gasp as he strode naked as the day he was born to the wardrobe and pulled out underwear and jeans and a pale blue T-shirt.

He stepped into a pair of white boxer shorts, watching her steadily as he drew them up around his slim hips. ‘What, no more maidenly protests? Of course not. You’ve probably seen more men naked than a dozen women would see in their lifetime, isn’t that right? So let’s stop all this play-acting, shall we?’

Too late Louise realised that she’d been standing there staring at him. She spun round, closing her eyes as she tried to compose herself again, but all she could see behind her closed lids was a picture of Wyatt Lord standing there naked, his broad chest tanned under the thick pelt of hair, his hips paler than the rest of his body. She swallowed down a soft moan of protest, then turned round to face him again, knowing that somehow they had to sort this mess out.

‘Yes, I’ve seen men naked before, but that doesn’t mean that I appreciate your acting this way. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this sort of treatment, Mr Lord; I don’t really care. All I want is for you to set the record straight and tell Carling Hutton the truth.’

He zipped the jeans, then pulled the T-shirt over his head, finger-combing the thick, glossy strands of black hair back into place. ‘That is something I have no intention of doing. I’m quite happy to have her think that she interrupted a tender little scene here in this room.’

‘But why?’ Louise ran a shaking hand over the creased folds of the thin blue robe, her fingers worrying the soft fabric. ‘I just don’t understand any of this, not what you told that woman, nor all the horrible things you keep on saying to me.’

‘The truth hurts, eh? It’s easier just to pass off what you’re doing without really thinking about it, isn’t it?’ His eyes traced her slender body with open contempt. ‘You are a beautiful woman, Louise, but you don’t need me to tell you that. You are well aware of your own charms, and use them.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘No? Then explain to me why you are staying in this hotel, a hotel that caters for a clientele far older than you. You must be...what, twenty-three...four?’ At her nod he continued, ‘Are you really here just to enjoy a holiday in luxurious and peaceful surroundings, as the hotel brochure boasts? Or are you here to use that beauty of yours to ensnare some rich old man who’ll provide you with the luxury you want from life?’

‘What? No!’ Horrified, she stared back at him. ‘You’ve got it wrong! I can’t imagine where you got such a ridiculous idea from!’

‘Can’t you? Not so ridiculous when I have seen and heard evidence to back up every word I just said.’

‘What evidence? What are you talking about?’

He folded his arms and leant easily against the wardrobe. ‘You should be more careful, Louise, if you hope to maintain this pretence of innocence. You forget that our rooms adjoin and that sound carries through the walls.’ He raised a dark brow, then continued when she made no attempt to speak. ‘The day I moved into this room I heard you—how shall I put it delicately?—entertaining a gentleman friend. Monday, it was. Then there’s been all the frequent comings and goings to your room at odd hours, coincidentally by a gentleman of advanced years. I heard him talking about you by the pool the other day. It was most enlightening. He was most complimentary about your sensitive hands and your touch like an angel, if I remember his words correctly.’ He shook his head so that the light from the window bounced flashes of blue fire off its raven darkness. ‘I never imagined that it was possible to come up with so many glowing compliments, but he managed it. He seems truly besotted, so all it needs now is for you to choose your time and then get him well and truly hooked.’

Louise stared at him in dumb silence when he stopped speaking, her mind racing in a dozen different directions as it made sense out of what he’d said, but a far different sense than he’d made!

The man he was talking about, a certain Mr Holden, had fallen and cut his leg badly on the way to the airport. Louise had sat next to him and his wife on the flight over and offered to change the dressings when his wife had confessed that she hated the sight of blood! The cut had been healing nicely, thanks to her attentions and the frequent changes of dressings.

It was such an innocent explanation to a far from innocent accusation, leaving only the mystery of her ‘entertaining’ in her room, and that could be explained very simply: Carol and Simon. Louise had found them in the room when she’d got back from a solo sightseeing tour on Monday, and had steadfastly turned a blind eye to their rapturous expressions!

It was all so simple to explain in just a few brief sentences, yet, looking at Wyatt Lord, Louise knew without the shadow of a doubt that he would never believe her. He seemed determined to see her in the worst light possible, although for the life of her she couldn’t understand why.

‘Look, Mr Lord, you seem to have got an entirely wrong impression here.’

‘Wyatt.’ He stood up straight, flexing the heavy muscles in his shoulders. ‘You may as well get used to calling me that right from the start. And to answer your statement, Louise, I don’t think I’ve got anything wrong. On the contrary I can see quite clearly what’s been going on here in this hotel.’

He was so pigheadedly arrogant! He’d formed this ridiculous opinion of her, and nothing, not even the truth, was going to make him change his mind. Louise drew herself up to her full five feet five and glared back at him. ‘I can see it’s pointless trying to talk to you. You’re entitled to your opinions, but it’s just a pity if they are the wrong ones.’ She started to walk past him, stopping abruptly when he caught her arm. ‘Do you mind?’ she demanded haughtily, staring down at his large hand fastened around her forearm. ‘I want to go back to my room. This discussion is over and done with as far as I’m concerned.’

He nodded agreement, but made no attempt to free her. ‘If you mean that you’ve accepted that it’s pointless to keep on with that little pretence of innocence, then that’s correct. However, there are other matters we need to discuss right now, Louise, namely our rather abrupt engagement.’

She froze, her eyes locked on the darkness of his skin against the pale creamy tan of her own before they lifted to meet his. ‘Pardon?’

‘I think you heard me all right.’

‘Oh, I heard, it’s just the understanding I’m having difficulty with.’ She twisted her arm, but achieved little apart from bruising her flesh. Anger rose hot and swift as it rode on the wake of the pain, and she glared at him. ‘Watch my lips, Mister Lord, then perhaps you will understand what I am saying: we are not engaged! I don’t know what sort of a game you were playing just now and I don’t really care. Now let me go.’

‘Not yet. Not until you understand what I am saying.’ He pushed her back so that she sat down abruptly on the bed, towering in front of her as he glared down into her furious face. ‘I have told Carling Hutton that we are engaged, and that is what I intend her to believe. I am in the middle of negotiations to buy this chain of hotels from Carling’s father, and I don’t intend for anything to disrupt that! Unfortunately, though, Carling has been getting ideas that she and I would make the perfect couple, ideas that her father would be only too delighted to go along with. Carling is the apple of his eyes; what she wants she gets, and pity help the man who crosses her. I want these hotels to add to the others I own, and I intend to have them, but I don’t intend to pay the ultimate price by marrying Carling. That’s where you come in.’

‘Me? You really imagine that I would agree to go along with this deception?’ She laughed harshly, watching the way his face tightened and his pale. eyes turned to silver ice. ‘No way, Mr Lord. I don’t care what you do, but there is no way on God’s green earth that I can be persuaded to act as your fiancée.’

‘You think not?’ He stepped closer, his eyes meeting hers and holding. ‘Not even to save yourself from the embarrassment of being thrown out of this hotel?’

‘Thrown out?’ She shot to her feet, pushing past him to stand against the wall as though she needed its solid support.

‘Mmm, could be a bit of a problem, I imagine, especially if I contact a few other hotels and warn them of the circumstances surrounding your abrupt departure from here.’

‘I...I... That’s ridiculous! I don’t care who you are, but you can’t do that! I won’t let you blackmail me into going along with your stupid plan!’ Was that really her voice sounding so shrill? Louise bit her lip as she tried to hang on to the last of her composure. Back at the hospital her control was legendary; she’d never been known even to raise her voice, let alone have hysterics, as seemed likely now. But back at the hospital there hadn’t been Wyatt Lord as provocation!

‘Oh, but I can. I can do everything I threaten, Louise. Have no doubt of that. Apart from the fact that I own several chains of hotels in this town and throughout Florida, I also have interests in quite a few others. If I made it known that you are unwelcome, then you wouldn’t find another room. Then of course there is always the possibility that the manager here might consider it his duty to inform the police about your activities.’ He smiled faintly as he watched her. ‘There has been a campaign recently to clean up this town by the vice squad, so I don’t imagine they would look kindly upon what you’ve been doing.’

He spoke quietly, the words dropping almost gently into the stunned silence, yet the ripples they caused seemed like tidal waves.

‘I haven’t been doing anything! And I can get the man you referred to up here this minute to vouch for that!’

‘I’m sure you can. He would be only too happy to corroborate any story you came up with rather than admit the truth in front of his wife, isn’t that right? But you and I both know what the truth is, and unless you agree then the manager is going to hear it too.’ He picked up the phone, watching her closely. ‘I wonder what people will make of this back home in England?’ He paused deliberately. ‘You must have friends and possibly family there, Louise. A story like this is bound to hit the papers on both sides of the Atlantic, especially if you are deported, which most probably will happen.’

Deported? She closed her eyes, a mental picture of her parents springing to life. Her father had just applied for the headship of the local high school, while her mother had recently taken over the chair of the local Women’s Circle. Then there was her brother, Paul, just starting out as a solicitor, not to mention her sister, Helen, just finishing her year’s residency at the same hospital where Louise worked. She was innocent as the day, but the mud would stick to all of them!

She was so angry that she could barely speak. ‘You would really do that? No, don’t bother. I can see you would. You are the most despicable man I’ve ever met, and I wish to heaven that I’d left you here to suffer by yourself last night!’

‘But you didn’t, did you? And why not? Because you thought there might be something in it for you? All right, then, Louise, I’d hate to disappoint you, so let me make you an offer. Lawrence Hutton has invited me to stay at his house in the Bahamas—on Paradise Island, to be precise. You will accompany me as my fiancée. That should effectively put paid to any ideas about my marrying into the family, yet guarantee that I get what I want.’

‘And what do I get out of all this?’ She smoothed the lace at the cuff of her robe, feeling anger churning inside her. It was hard to believe that anyone could be as coldly ruthless as Wyatt Lord was. She didn’t doubt that he would carry out his threat, but if he thought she’d go along with him then he was in for a shock!

He set the phone back down with a satisfied smile that made her itch to reach out and slap his arrogant face, but she stopped herself. ‘I’m glad you’re being sensible about this. I thought you would once I had time to convince you that you could turn this to your advantage. In return for your help I shall sign an undertaking to let this whole matter drop, plus I’m willing to pay you a generous fee as compensation for not being able to reap the benefits of all your recent hard work. Understand?’

Oh, she did. She understood it all quite clearly, from A to Z, with every letter filled in along the way! What she should do now was laugh in his face and tell him to do his worst, challenge him to carry out all his miserable threats. So how was it that she opened her mouth and heard with a sense of total disbelief herself saying softly, ‘How much?’ That was something she still couldn’t understand properly even hours later!


CHAPTER THREE

THE ground fell away as the plane took to the skies. Louise held her breath, only releasing it as the plane gained its correct altitude and started to level off. She’d never flown in anything smaller than a 747 before, so this was a whole new experience, one she wasn’t sure she liked.

She glanced sideways at Wyatt Lord, who was piloting the small Cessna, watching the way his hands moved confidently on the controls. It was obvious that he was as confident about flying as he appeared to be about everything else he did, and gradually she began to relax, although that did little to ease the knots in her stomach. She must have been mad to agree to this, stark, raving mad!

She looked away, shading her eyes against the glare from the vivid blue sky as she tried again to work out why she’d done such a crazy thing as to agree to this trip. Had it been merely those threats he’d uttered, threats that had made her feel more recklessly angry than she’d felt before in her life? She still wasn’t one hundred per cent certain, but suddenly all Carol’s dire warnings came rushing back to haunt her, and she had to bite her lip to stern the tiny moan.

‘If you’re going to be sick, then use one of the bags in the door pocket.’

If she’d thought for a moment that he’d said that out of concern, then she might have appreciated it, but she wasn’t fool enough to think that! The anger rose again, hot and swift, and strangely comforting, as she turned to stare coldly at him. ‘Don’t worry. I wasn’t about to throw up all over your precious plane.’

He adjusted the controls, his face set as he shot her a quick glance. ‘Then what is bothering you? Having second thoughts already?’ He smiled, his mouth curling contemptuously beneath the heavy black moustache, his eyes hidden behind the mirrored glasses. ‘I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you. We made a deal, Louise, and I have every intention of seeing that you stick to it.’

‘Second thoughts about earning myself ten thousand dollars?’ She pretended to make a few rapid calculations on her fingers, her expression as avaricious as she could make it. ‘What’s that, about five and a half thousand pounds in sterling?’ She laughed huskily, stretching her slender body like a cat who had been shown a saucer of cream, before settling back in the seat with a contented sigh. ‘An offer like that doesn’t come a girl’s way very often.’

‘But how long will the money last?’ He removed his glasses, studying the elegant lines of her beige silk shirt and trousers, the smooth leather of her neat flat shoes. ‘Clothes like those cost money, a lot of money. You’ll be through that cash in next to no time, and then what will you do? Start looking for some other poor man to keep you?’

Louise ran a hand over the soft silk, smiling faintly to herself. The clothes she owned were expensive, but she hadn’t bought them; the salary she earned was adequate to live on, but would never have stretched to designer labels. She was fortunate enough to have a cousin who was a buyer for a large store in Manchester, who was a clothesaholic. Jessica bought more outfits than she could hope to wear, then passed them on to Louise for a fraction of their cost when she tired of them. It was an arrangement that suited them both, but one she had no intention of telling Wyatt Lord about!

He slid the glasses back on, his jaw rigid as he banked the plane slowly then checked the panel before he spoke again. ‘I think that the thing that’s bothering you most is that someone has sussed your little game. It must be galling to have come so close then to lose out at the last moment.’

‘Lose out on what?’ She brushed a shiny dark curl from her eyes, then felt in her soft leather bag for her own sunglasses. Up here the sky was almost painfully bright, the sun blinding as it shone through the cockpit windscreen. She could feel the beginnings of a headache pressing at her temples, a sure sign that tiredness and anger had taken their toll.

‘Hooking yourself that guy back at the hotel.’ He laughed unpleasantly. ‘He seemed fairly well set up, although I imagine you could have found someone a lot richer if you’d gone further afield. Miami is full of men like that who would be flattered by the attentions of a beautiful woman like you, Louise. Perhaps I’ve done you a favour by persuading you to come on this trip. It means you can always go back once we’re through and try again for a bigger fish, one whose bank balance will last a while longer until you drain it dry.’

She was glad of the glasses. They shielded her eyes, so that he could not see how much that hurt. How could she go through with this and spend the next week in the company of someone who despised her as much as he did?

Unexpected tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to admit even to herself how much it hurt to hear him say such horrible things. However, he was relentless, seemingly taking pleasure out of being as unpleasant as possible to her. ‘Nothing to say? No girlish protestations about your innocence now? You disappoint me, Louise, you really do. I thought you’d be determined to keep on with the little charade you’ve been playing.’

She didn’t bother turning to look at him, her voice slightly muffled as she held back a sob. ‘What would be the point? You’ve made up your mind about me, and that’s that. Why waste my breath?’

He caught her chin, forcing her head round to study her before he let her go abruptly. Louise drew in a shaky breath, clenching her hands to stop herself from rubbing her fingers along her jaw to wipe away the burning, disturbing imprint he’d left on her skin. She felt shaken by the brief contact, but why? It didn’t make any sense.

‘What made you start this in the first place, Louise?’ His hands moved on the controls, firm and confident as. they steadied the small plane as it lifted on a current of warm air. Below them Louise could see the sea, turquoise-blue, glistening in the hot sunlight. It was like a picture-postcard view, and at another time she would have taken pleasure from it, but right now all she could concentrate on was coping with Wyatt Lord’s deliberate cruelty.

She shrugged dismissively, feigning a sophistication that was purely on the surface. Inside it felt as though tiny daggers were being stabbed one by one into her heart. ‘Why does anyone decide on a course of action? You weigh up the pros and cons, then make the decisions. It’s as simple as that.’

‘Simple?’ He laughed deeply, shaking his head as he glanced sideways at her. ‘You see this kind of life you’re leading as simple? Come on! You’re not a fool. You understand the risks, surely?’

‘What risks? From where I’m sitting it all looks fine to me. I find myself a rich...benefactor, then live the life I’ve always longed for. Isn’t that what I’m doing?’

‘And what about your family? Have they any idea what you’re up to?’

Definitely not! If her parents ever found out about this they’d be horrified, not because they’d believe that she was in America looking for a rich sugar-daddy, but because she’d gone off with a virtual stranger! The thought of their love strengthened the determination that had kept her going throughout the time she’d been packing at the hotel while fielding Carol’s protests. This man had insulted her in a way that no one had ever done before, and she was determined to make him pay for every unpleasant word! She would go through with this plan, even accept the money he paid her...then take great satisfaction from throwing it back in his arrogant face as she told him in terms he couldn’t doubt how very wrong he’d been. The thought of watching Wyatt Lord squirm as he was forced to apologise would see her through!

‘No,’ she said softly, just the faintest tremor of distress in her voice, which she felt quite proud of. ‘They...they’ve no idea what I’m doing right now.’

‘Then why do it? You’re a beautiful and intelligent woman. You have other options, so why do something your family would feel ashamed of if they found out?’

‘Money. Isn’t that the key to understanding why, Mr Lord? You said it yourself only this morning, worked out very cleverly what I was doing in the hotel and why.’ She smiled airily, watching him through the tinted lenses, enjoying the way his big body stiffened at her open mockery.

‘Yes, I worked it out It wasn’t difficult. I’ve seen it happen before, watched men who make fools of themselves over women like you, women who don’t give a damn about anything as long as they get what they want. You should carry a health warning, Louise, because you destroy lives!’

His anger was almost tangible, filling the confines of the small plane, adding a new dimension to the conversation that startled her.

‘That sounds as though you’re speaking from personal experience. Did some woman take you for a ride?’

He laughed harshly, such contempt in the sound that it destroyed the last vestiges of amusement she felt ‘No. I’m not fool enough to let any woman do that to me. Oh, women have their uses, I’ll admit, but those are purely physical, and that’s all I’m interested in.’

She felt suddenly cold, despite the heat from the sun, her skin tingling with an icy chill that stemmed from deep inside. How could anyone sound as totally devoid of feelings as he had? In some indefinable way, it shocked her almost as much as when he’d made those ridiculous accusations against her.

Suddenly she didn’t want to continue with this disturbing conversation a moment longer, and cast round for something to say to fill the uncomfortable silence. ‘How long will it be before we land now?’

‘About twenty minutes or so, depending on how many other planes are due at the island.’ He checked his watch, a faint mocking curl to his mouth, as though he understood her reasons for wanting to move the conversation along different channels. ‘The airstrip at Paradise Island is purely that, a strip for the benefit of people who have houses there.’

‘I see.’ She turned to stare out of the side-window, forcing herself to push the unsettling. exchange to the back of her mind. She wasn’t interested in digging deeper, in trying to discover what had made Wyatt so cold and unfeeling. It wasn’t any of her business, and she had to remember that and not allow natural curiosity to draw her into something she might come to regret. ‘What are all those islands down there? There must be hundreds of them, some so tiny they’re little more than a few rocks, I imagine.’

‘They are. There are about seven hundred islands plus over two thousand cays down there that form the Bahamas, most of them so flat they are barely a hundred feet above sea-level at their highest points.’

‘Good heavens! I never realised there were so many!’ Astonished by the information, Louise turned back to the view, following the scattering of land in the deep turquoise sea, like jewels glistening against satin. ‘Are they all inhabited?’

‘No. Some of the smaller cays are privately owned, but most of them are uninhabited. There are no rivers or streams on any of the islands, so fresh water can be a problem. What little there is is usually found close to the surface, resting on salt water, so if wells are dug too deeply it can taste brackish and be quite unpalatable.

‘If you look down there to your right you’ll see New Providence Island, where the capital of the Bahamas, Nassau, is situated.’

Louise followed his directions, leaning over so that she could see better, but it was hard to distinguish the island through the haze of sun bouncing off the water. ‘Do you mean there?’ she queried, pointing to a spot to their right, then nearly jumped out of her skin when he caught her hand in his and moved it a fraction further, holding it steady as he guided her pointing finger. Heat ran along her veins so swiftly, so fiercely, that she caught her breath at the sheer unexpectedness of the sensation. Just for a moment her eyes lifted to meet his, and she wished that she could see the expression in them, but with the mirrored glasses firmly in place that was impossible.





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