From Prim to Improper

by Cathy Williams

  An imaginary Andreas would not now be laughing and flirting with the gaggle of blondes around him but then her imagination was a far cry from the reality, which was that Andreas had proved himself to be a guy who would happily seduce one woman while having another stashed away somewhere else. He was a guy who could still find it possible to think the worst of her even when he should have known better, should have seen that side of her that would never, ever take advantage of anyone. He was a man who had not been at all interested in what she had had to say. He was someone who could make a girl fall in love with him even though she didn’t want to, and then turn around and treat her as though what they had briefly shared was meaningless.

  She could feel a great ache of sadness and self pity well up inside her, and she refocused all her attention on the man in front of her, who suddenly seemed so hollow and insubstantial compared to the cad by the door—now holding a drink in his hand, although he had yet to take a sip of it.

  Her nerves were suddenly stretched to screaming point as she forced herself to focus on Toby, to take an interest in what he was saying, reminding herself that he was a great guy whose attention was flattering and ego-boosting, and a soothing balm to her battered sense of self-worth.

  But her skin felt hot and prickly, and out of the corner of her eye she was aware that Andreas had shaken off the gaggle of women. Like royalty, he couldn’t move without someone wanting to shake his hand. By golly—she didn’t want to admit it—but he looked drop-dead gorgeous. His black hair was swept away from his lean, darkly handsome face and his white shirt and black tailored tuxedo clung to him with loving perfection.

  She wondered whether he had spotted her, and rather thought that if he had he would do his utmost to avoid her. He had made it clear in no uncertain terms that she disgusted him but, that aside, she was relieved that he had shown up. James had taken his refusal to attend the party on the chin, but he would have been hurting inside.

  She was aware that she was making all the right noises. Who knew? Under normal circumstances, she might very well have been riveted by Toby’s amusing account of a legal case he had handled a few months previously. Under normal circumstances, she might very well have been hanging on to hear the punchline to his anecdote. Sadly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced the luxury of normal circumstances, and they sure weren’t normal now. Her nerves were all over the place and she was aware of every small movement of her body even though she now had her back to Andreas.

  ‘Gilbert.’

  The low, lazy drawl feathered the back of her neck and she felt her skin prickle as she slowly turned around. She imagined Andreas had targeted her not because he was dying to have a conversation with her, but probably because a week away had provided him with yet more fodder for attack.

  ‘I haven’t seen you around these parts recently. Still clinging to that job of yours at Taylor Merchants? I heard the pavements outside their offices are littered with unemployed lawyers, scrabbling around and wondering how they’re going to survive without their bonuses. Hell, still—there’s always money to be found in unexpected quarters. Wouldn’t you agree, Elizabeth?’ Andreas knew that it was a low blow, uncalled for. But he had never liked Toby Gilbert, and seeing the man involved in some kind of bonding conversation with Elizabeth had set his teeth more on edge. His teeth had already been set on edge the minute he had spotted her get-up. She was dressed to kill, and with enough potential victims to fill her little black book. James hadn’t been kidding with that snide remark about wanting her to find a nice young man. The faint aroma of some very subtle perfume made his nostrils flare, but he was resisting the urge to look at her.

  Toby had stiffened, but the respect and fear that Andreas was capable of instilling was powerful enough to elicit a polite reply to the obvious insult.

  ‘Still hanging on, old man. And, as for money in unexpected places? Not the sort to chase a moneyed woman, although with or without James Elizabeth would make most heads turn…’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ The tightness in his chest was back, accompanied by a cyclonic rage that Andreas fought to contain.

  The deadly softness of his voice made the hairs rise on the back of Elizabeth’s neck. It also yanked her out of her trance-like state of absorption and catapulted her back into fighting spirit. She remembered that this was the man who had stolen her heart and returned the favour by treating her like something the cat had brought in, something unsavoury that he would have shoved instantly into the rubbish bin had his godfather not prevented it. Not content with that, now his casual, insolent insult penetrated her like a curare-tipped arrow. What more evidence did she need, to know that there was nothing left between them?

  ‘Not everyone is terrified of surprises, Andreas—and, Toby, thank you for that compliment. It means a lot to me.’ Elizabeth placed her hand gently on Toby’s arm and shot Andreas a rebellious look from under her lashes. Just looking at the harsh, beautiful lines of his face was enough to make her feel giddy and, lord, how she hated that.

  Andreas looked at her hand on Toby’s arm and bolted down his drink in one gulp. ‘Be a good chap,’ he said pleasantly enough to Toby, even though the image of her hand on his arm was burning a hole in his head, ‘and give us a few minutes. There’s some stuff we need to discuss. Matters of estate.’

  Toby’s departure seemed to lock them into an intimate situation in which they were isolated from everyone around them. It was as if everything became background noise and motion, so great was the power Andreas could exert over her. She made a feeble attempt to break the spell by glancing around for help in the shape of her father, who was nowhere to be seen. He had been transformed from virtual recluse to party animal, it would seem.

  ‘I didn’t think you would be coming,’ she said tightly, eyes returning to the man standing in front of her. His fabulous dark eyes were shuttered as he looked down at her; he gently swirled his empty glass in one hand, the other hand in his trouser pocket. He made every man in the room pale in comparison and that angered her, because his very presence seemed mockingly to undermine her efforts to get over him. James had very kindly made sure that there were people there her age just in case she got bored, she assumed—but all his efforts had been in vain because it just took one man to walk through the door and her disobedient eyes could see no one else. Even when he had been unbelievably rude. It wasn’t fair!

  ‘Nor did I, but in the end I couldn’t resist the temptation to see how you were dealing with your new-found celebrity status.’

  ‘I haven’t got a new-found celebrity status.’

  ‘By which I take it that you haven’t been devouring any of the tabloids?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My secretary kindly brought me a couple yesterday. You’re not front-page news, but you do warrant a few paragraphs somewhere in the centre.’

  The colour had drained away from Elizabeth’s face as she imagined how that would look to Andreas. On the one hand she had been red in the face in her determination to prove to him how little James’s wealth and status mattered, and on the other hand she had popped up in some wretched tabloid. Heaven only knew what they had had to say about her. James, she knew, would be indifferent, because he didn’t care a jot for other people’s opinions, and she was very glad that she had not come across any of the articles.

  ‘There have been no reporters around here,’ Elizabeth told him through gritted teeth, and he shrugged.

  ‘James is not fodder for gossip. Your arrival on the scene is more a point of interest. And, I must say, you seem to have settled into your new role with…aplomb. You even…look different.’ He reached out and curled his finger into some strands of her newly straightened hair, and Elizabeth froze as her body responded with slamming intensity. She pulled away.

  ‘You mean less the unsophisticated bumpkin who showed up here a couple of months ag
o?’ She had a sudden vision of Amanda with her gorgeous, perfectly made-up face, her long, rangy model’s body and her patina of gloss. ‘I’ve straightened my hair and I’m wearing a designer dress because James insisted, but I’m the same person underneath. If you’re looking for polish and real glamour, then there are quite a few of those types milling around. Or maybe you brought another one of your own with you?’ She scanned the room, but it was impossible to tell because most of the guests were unfamiliar to her.

  ‘So, I’m curious—how does all this now equate with your wish to find a simple job in the town? If I remember correctly, that was your intention?’

  ‘You still want to believe the worst of me, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m interested to find out whether the simple life is still part of your package, or whether you’ve dumped that along with the fake persona and the persuasive bedside-manner.’

  ‘I don’t have to stand here listening to this!’ But the sea of faces was uninviting and, besides, like a moth drawn to a flame, she found that she was unwilling to tear herself away from him. Indeed, against her will, she was aware of his height and his size with senses that were agonisingly over-sensitised. If she reached out she could touch him, and she clenched her hands into fists because the temptation was so frighteningly powerful. A terrible ‘what if?’ scenario presented itself in her feverish mind and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. It was important to remember that this man had used and discarded her and was still, even now, happy to continue insulting her.

  ‘How much of this was planned in advance?’ Andreas knew that this was a conversation destined to go nowhere. However, he had been shaken up by James’s intention on playing match-maker—and even more shaken up to find said plan already on the road to success, judging from the ‘come and get me’ outfit Elizabeth was wearing, and the obvious effect it was having on the unattached male guests. Gilbert couldn’t have made his interest in Elizabeth more obvious if he had printed it on a sandwich board. Any casual assumption that she wouldn’t be tempted by chinless wonders had bitten the dust with supersonic force.

  His imagination now dive-bombed to a scenario in which she had suggested the match-making—the prodigal daughter working her sexiness in her search for the perfect mate. And sexy she damn well looked. Andreas felt himself stirring in his trousers so that he had to incline his body to one side, or in a second there was the very real possibility that the tell-tale bulge would become unmissable.

  ‘Planned in advance?’

  ‘Well, we know that the “getting to know you” approach worked like a dream—but were you also on board for the “meet the eligible bachelor” mission as well? Was that there in the planning stage from the very beginning? How long before walking down the aisle concludes the process?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Elizabeth, threw back at him recklessly, stung to the quick.

  ‘So you don’t deny that you had a game plan from the beginning?’ Despite himself, Andreas was outraged at that level of deception.

  ‘Why should I? It’s not as if you believe a word I say anyway.’

  This was not what Andreas wanted to hear, and he cursed himself for angling the conversation down the one-way street. ‘So is Gilbert the guy you’ve lined up as Suitable Bachelor Number One?’

  ‘Why does it matter to you one way or another?’ Elizabeth gave a toss of her head, which felt like a very empowering thing to do at that moment in time. ‘Maybe I’ll have a few on the go at the same time. All’s fair in love and war, as they say. And don’t tell me that you disapprove, because you can’t have one set of rules for yourself and another set for the rest of the world.’

  ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this. And I take it you’re harking back to those pointless remarks about Amanda?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was pointless to ask for an explanation as to how you could string both of us along at the same time!’

  Born from the habit of a lifetime, Andreas answered swiftly and smoothly, ‘I answer to no one.’

  ‘Because you don’t care about anyone but yourself,’ Elizabeth muttered painfully. Her legs were finally beginning to function again, as was her cotton-wool brain. It was telling her that it was high time she made her escape, because too long in Andreas’s presence did crazy things to her brain and she was terrified that under the defiant exterior he would glimpse the reality of how she felt about him.

  ‘And Gilbert—I mean, Toby—is great. Good-looking, pleasant, smart…’

  ‘Are you listing his attributes to remind yourself of them?’ Andreas was finding it difficult to credit that he was levelling insults about a guy to whose existence he was utterly indifferent. Where the hell had his legendary cool gone? Green eyes met his squarely and he grimly reined in his impulse to continue their counter-productive argument. Whatever the hell the woman wanted to do was entirely her concern. He should wash his hands of her and walk away. Fortunately for the both of them, he thought, his mind finding ground with which he was comfortable and thereby restoring his equilibrium, he could see outside the box.

  ‘But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.’

  Elizabeth watched him warily. They were standing on the sidelines, which didn’t mean that there weren’t frequent curious glances being thrown their way. ‘People are looking at us. They’re probably wondering what’s going on.’ If she had imagined that that might have put Andreas off his stride, she was sorely mistaken; he shrugged one elegant shoulder in a gesture of bored indifference.

  ‘I have no problem with that.’

  ‘Well, what did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Now that you’re a permanent part of my godfather’s life, it’s going to be a little tedious if you are antagonistic every time we meet, because meet we will. It’s an inevitability.’

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest that their antagonism was mutual, but closed it again, because that would have kick-started another round of battle for which she would doubtless be made to take the blame. The more she sniped, the faster he would realise how much he got under her skin, and she wanted to protect herself from that, so she drew herself up and nodded curtly.

  ‘I am, and will continue to be, devoted to my godfather and as such I will visit as often as I always have. If you think that I used you as a bit of entertainment, because my main squeeze was in London and out of reach, then that’s your business, but you’ve got to get over it.’ Back in control, Andreas felt the ratcheted tension inside him begin to subside. With ruthless efficiency, he cleared his mind of the disturbing images of Elizabeth with Gilbert. Dwelling on that was definitely not a good idea. Dark, veiled eyes swept over her without a noticeable change of expression. ‘But, like it or not, we shared something and because of that I’m going to give you a bit of advice.’

  ‘I don’t need your advice.’ But, like it or not, we shared something… Was that how he summarised a relationship that had torn apart her foundations and changed her from the inside out?

  ‘You do need my advice,’ Andreas intoned drily, pleased that he was big enough to look out for her interests even though she had turned out to be, if not a cheat, then certainly a pretty accomplished liar. Never mind the semantics; that subject was still up for debate. ‘Because you might be dressed in scarlet but you’re still green behind the ears.’

  She half-opened her mouth and he held up an imperious hand. ‘You’ll thank me for this,’ he informed her, ‘but no thanks needed. My godfather is overjoyed at his prodigal daughter turning up out of the blue, and out of love and respect I am obliged to put any concerns of mine to bed. I am also morally obliged to warn you that if you plan on setting your sights on any of the men in this room then you would be wise to give it some thought.’

  ‘Because I’m not really in their class?’

  Andreas gave a short, mocking laugh and raised
his eyebrows in wry amusement. ‘The world’s come a long way from those upstairs-downstairs days,’ he drawled. ‘Sure, there are a few left who cling to their landed-gentry status, and nightly pray that it won’t be invaded by riff raff, but you’d be surprised how a shrinking economy can do away with false pride. No; you should give it some serious thought because they enjoy having playthings—even Gilbert, that great, good-looking, pleasant, smart guy. From what I’ve seen in you, you aren’t prepared to take on the no-strings-attached-plaything role.’

  ‘Are you talking about us?’

  ‘I’m giving you some good advice.’

  ‘I wasn’t ever going to move to London, because I wanted to be here…close to James. I didn’t know that everything would come out in the open the way it did.’

  ‘And, taking James out of the equation, you would have been ready and willing to take on the role of plaything?’ Andreas was driven to ask the question, but even as it left his mouth he regretted the impulse. What was it about this woman? No sooner had he put his wayward emotions under lock and key than he discovered that the bolts had been shot and careless, random thoughts were sneaking in uninvited.

  The sudden blush that spread across her cheeks, and the taut silence that greeted this question, was answer enough. Realisation dawned on Andreas with sudden, blinding clarity.

  ‘You don’t do plaything, do you?’ he said slowly, his bitter-chocolate eyes lingering on her evident embarrassment. ‘And, when I asked you to move in with me, you would still have turned me down flat even if James had not been a deciding factor because you wanted more than just sharing my bed and my space.’