Breaking/Making Up: Something BorrowedVendetta
Page 16
‘No, I have the same name as him,’ he corrected urgently, as if the fine distinction was important. ‘Just before I was born he had an illness that rendered him sterile, which was why he was so obsessive about me marrying and perpetuating the name. There are two Nicholas Thornes, Vivian, but only one was driving the car that night—my father.’
Vivian’s bleached face stormed with vivid emotion as she realised what he was telling her. ‘But, your son—’
His fingers across her mouth hushed her confused protest, and the riot of blood in her veins became a visible tumult that bloomed across her skin. ‘I have no son. Your “boy” in the back seat was me. To the doctor who patched me up, a twenty-five-year-old probably did seem like a boy—he certainly seemed old to me, although he was probably only in his late fifties.
‘After Barbara was killed, my father said it didn’t matter that I was crippled, as long as my genes were healthy. We had endless rows about my refusal to marry again. In the end I turned my back on it all-my father, his money, the business I was supposed to take over, the whole concept of Being A Thorne. I didn’t realise that after the accident his dream had become a ruthless obsession, and the obsession had developed into a dangerous fixation with you...’
Vivian struggled to sit up, but Nicholas held her down with implacable gentleness. ‘Are you saying this was all his idea?’ she asked hoarsely through her salt-scored throat.
‘I had no idea what he was planning,’ he said emphatically. ‘Not until I paid a long-overdue duty visit last week. As usual, our discussion turned into a furious row. He suddenly started shouting the most ridiculous things...about how it was all your fault his son had turned against him and how he was finally going to make you and Janna pay for murdering his grandson. How he had waited years for just the right moment to get you where he wanted you... He was boasting about how he was going to do it when he had a massive stroke—’
‘Oh, God...’ Vivian’s fist came up to her mouth and Nicholas eased it away, unsurprised by her horrified compassion for the man who had tried to hurt her.
‘No, he’s not dead, but he’s in an extremely bad way,’ he said sombrely, wrapping her fist reassuringly in his. His body shifted against hers, enveloping her in a fresh wave of blissful warmth.
‘As soon as he was taken to hospital, I scoured his desk and files in case his incredible ravings were true. I found his dossier on you and a load of legal transactions with Marvel-Mitchell, and I got a shock to find it was actually on the verge of happening—and on Nowhere of all places—while I was scheduled to be away in Florida. Here!’ His voice hardened and she felt the muscles of his chest tense as if against a blow to the heart. ‘On my island... the place I used to come to get away from his insidious interference in my life. That was part of his sick delusion, you see,’ he added tiredly. ‘That he was doing this for my sake. So I fired the sleazy hireling who was supposed to do all the dirty work, and flew down here myself to...’ He hesitated uneasily.
‘To take his place?’ she challenged painfully.
He leaned up on one elbow and said ruefully, ‘Actually, I came hot-foot to rescue you. To apologise and try to smooth things over and explain about my father’s condition—’
‘Rescue me? Apologise? By drugging me and photographing me naked in bed with you and threatening to make me have your baby?’ Vivian squawked at him incredulously. ‘You expect me to believe that was your idea of smoothing things over?’
To her fascination he flushed, adjusting his eye-patch in the first unconsciously nervous gesture she had ever seen him make. ‘Yes, well, you weren’t quite naked. And, anyway, that was partly your fault.’
‘My fault?’
‘I was expecting your sister. I had intended to be very civilised and restrained and then use my power of attorney to sign the settlement contract and wave Janna a grateful goodbye, but I took one look at you and went off like a rocket.’ His voice roughened as he began to play with her damp ginger curls. ‘I wanted you more than any woman I’ve wanted in my life. I can’t explain it. I just saw you, touched you, and knew that we were made for each other, that you felt the same, powerful attraction that I did...
‘But I knew from my father’s file that you were due to get married in a week, so I didn’t have much time. I decided to take some drastic short cuts, use every despicable tool conveniently placed at my disposal, to keep you here and break down your resistance to the notion of breaking up with Marvel. I thought that my pretending to be my father would buy me the time I needed to build on the potent physical chemistry between us. Of course, I didn’t realise that you were also doing some bidding for the same reason...’ he added slyly.
She placed her hands flat against his bare chest. ‘Not quite the same reason,’ she teased.
To her surprise he didn’t smile. ‘Are you trying to let me down lightly?’ he asked quietly.
She suddenly realised that she hadn’t told him. She traced his tight mouth with her forefinger. ‘I woke up this morning horrified to admit I’d fallen in love with you,’ she said softly. ‘My heart skewered on the sword of an emotional pirate. You can’t blame me for choosing the deep blue sea over the devil. You should have been more honest with me from the start...’
‘Like you were, you mean,’ he said drily, smiling at her rueful acknowledgement. ‘It may not seem like it, but I do have some sense of honour, you know. I wasn’t going to make love to you until you asked, and I wasn’t going to ask you to marry me until you’d given Marvel his marching orders.’
‘Marry!’ He looked amused by her shock, and she recovered quickly. ‘I thought you wanted me to be your sex-slave,’ she pouted huskily.
‘That, too, of course,’ he said, lambent flecks of gold sparkling wickedly in his eye at her sensual boldness.
He rolled over on top of her. ‘And speaking of slavery... I had to be rescued from a very embarrassing state of captivity myself this morning. Handcuffed to my own bed! I had to drag it over to the door and spend fifteen minutes yelling down the stairwell before Frank heard and came up and jemmied the cuffs open for me. He’ll never let me hear the end of it!’
‘You should be more careful who you go to bed with,’ said Vivian demurely.
His head lowered as his knee brushed between her legs. ‘I will be. Very careful,’ he murmured against her mouth.
‘In future I’ll only be going to bed with my fire-cracker wife.’
As she slid her arms around his satiny-hard waist and blossomed eagerly for his love, Vivian thought it sounded like a just fate for a retired pirate...
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6927-9
BREAKING/MAKING UP
First North American Publication 1997.
BREAKING/MAKING UP © Harlequin Books S.A.1997. SOMETHING BORROWED © 1992 by Miranda Lee. VENDETTA © 1995 by Susan Napier.
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