Mistress For Hire (Harlequin Presents)

by Angela Devine

  ‘I don’t need a ride,’ she said. ‘I’m going back upstairs to call a taxi.’

  ‘Do as you’re told, Lisa,’ he ordered amiably. ‘I don’t want to have to carry you to the car. Of course, once we’re inside it you’re welcome to quarrel with me, provided you don’t mind William overhearing every word.’

  She cast him a smouldering look.

  ‘You brute! I hate you! How dare you maul me like that in the lift?’

  Matt’s voice was full of lazy amusement as he pulled her out of the path of a departing Rolls and waved cheerfully at the two older couples inside the vehicle.

  ‘Maul you, sweetheart? What rubbish! You enjoyed every moment of it as much as I did.’

  This was so close to the truth that Lisa sat fuming in silence half the way home. Her response to Matt Lansdon appalled her, but when she had finally stopped berating herself, she began to worry about the more important issue of what she should do. Well, there was really only one answer to that. Tim must be made to tell the truth and both male Lansdons must grovel apologetically at her feet. After that she would have to move out and find herself somewhere else to live. Her pride could not possibly permit her to remain in her present situation, although the prospect of finding lodgings she could afford made her spirits sink. She would have to find a waitressing job again and that would leave even less time available for painting. Besides, in spite of Tim’s outrageous behaviour, she had a niggling suspicion that she was going to miss him if she never saw him again. Of course she wouldn’t miss Matt Lansdon and she hoped devoutly that she would never have to see him again. If only she could get through the rest of this evening, with luck she might never have to set eyes on him in future!

  When they entered the flat, Lisa waved hopefully at the huge, open-plan living room, which dominated the lower floor.

  ‘Would you like to sit down and fix yourself a drink,’ she asked, ‘while I go upstairs and see if Tim’s home?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ replied Matt coolly. ‘I’ll come up and see for myself. I am one of the family, after all.’

  She couldn’t help resenting this invasion of the more private part of the flat, nor did it make her task any easier. If Tim had drunk too much at a party, which had happened several times lately, there would be little chance of concealing the fact from his uncle. Oh, well, perhaps it would do him good to be accountable for his actions for once! A thin rectangle of golden light under his bedroom door showed that he was at home.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to sit down,’ invited Lisa. ‘And I’ll ask Tim to come out and speak to you.’

  ‘All right,’ agreed Matt.

  She waited until he had taken his seat in the small sunroom off the dining area and was on the point of tapping on Tim’s door when she realized that was out of character with her role as his fiancée. Instead she boldly opened the door as if it belonged to her own bedroom, slipped inside and shut it behind her. Tim was busy getting undressed and looked up with an expression of mild surprise as he pulled on a pair of navy blue silk pyjama bottoms. His upper half was still bare, but Lisa spared him no more than a glance. Tim was like a brother to her and in any case his thin, boyish physique awoke no dangerous longings in her of the kind inspired by his uncle. He pushed a lock of his silky, honey-gold hair out of his brown eyes and flashed her a mischievous grin.

  ‘Did you get rid of Uncle Matt?’ he demanded without any preliminary greeting.

  ‘No,’ said Lisa flatly, leaning back against the door. ‘He’s in the sunroom, waiting to talk to you.’

  An expression of comic dismay flitted over Tim’s features and he looked wildly around for an escape route. His gaze lingered momentarily on the curtained picture windows.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ cried Lisa, darting towards him. ‘There will be no ladders of knotted sheets, no death-defying human fly exits. You’re going to face the music, laddie. Dear old uncle Mathew wants some answers and so do I!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Tim uneasily, backing away from her.

  ‘I’m talking about your marriage plans,’ replied Lisa sweetly. ‘It would have been nice if you had proposed to me before you told your mother that we were getting married.’

  Tim sucked in breath with an anguished expression like a child who has just fallen on his face and grazed his hands and knees.

  ‘Sorry,’ he muttered placatingly. ‘But I was in a tight corner, Lisa, and I had to say something. You know my mother. She was suspicious that first time she came round here and found you at the flat late at night, and it was even worse on her second visit. You know how she arrived at the party and we didn’t even hear her let herself in? Well, she went snooping around in my bathroom and found a packet of condoms in the cupboard and Barbara’s tights hanging up to dry in the shower recess. After that, she went down and cross-examined the porter and found out that I had a young woman living here. Of course, when she burst into the party and I was standing with my arm around you, she naturally jumped to the conclusion that it was you, so then she dragged me off into the study and started working herself into a state about it. I could see she was all ready to go out and embarrass me in front of my friends by having shrieking hysterics about how Mummy’s boy had fallen into the clutches of a bold, bad, wicked streetwalker. I had to think up some kind of story to stop her.’

  ‘So you told her you were in love with me and that you were going to marry me?’ demanded Lisa incredulously.

  ‘Yeah, that’s about the size of it, although I didn’t really think she’d be silly enough to swallow it.’

  ‘Well, she has,’ fumed Lisa. ‘And what’s worse, she’s managed to convince your Uncle Matt, as well. That’s why he’s here in Melbourne. He’s come to rescue you from me.’

  Tim gave a muffled snort of laughter.

  ‘It’s not funny!’ cried Lisa furiously. ‘He actually offered me money to leave you alone.’

  Tim’s mirth gave way to a speculative look.

  ‘How much did he offer you?’ he asked slyly. ‘Perhaps we could split the difference. I’m a bit short of funds right now.’

  ‘You!’ gasped Lisa. ‘I hope you’re joking, Tim. Because if you’re not, that’s the most unscrupulous suggestion I’ve ever heard. Anyway, we can’t split the bribe. I’ve already burnt the cheque.’

  ‘Burnt it!’ echoed Tim reproachfully. ‘Lisa, you’ve got no common sense, no prudence, no thought for the future. All those things my relatives are always telling me. You’re worse than I am.’

  ‘No, I’m not! I’ve got years of scheming and lying and double-dealing ahead of me before I’ll be in your class, you little toad. Don’t you realize you’ve made me look like a fool and a tart in front of your uncle?’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ protested Tim. ‘Just because you’re staying here in the flat? There’s nothing very wicked or surprising about that! Lots of students share digs.’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten that I was posing nude when Matt arrived,’ said Lisa coldly.

  Tim gave another smothered yelp of laughter. ‘You mean he caught you starkers?’ he cried. ‘What a joke!’

  ‘No, it wasn’t! It was extremely embarrassing.’

  ‘Oh, don’t talk garbage! Matt might look as grim as a high court judge, but he’s had a pretty wild sex life himself. Women fall all over themselves trying to catch him.’

  ‘I’m not interested in Matt’s sex life,’ announced Lisa haughtily and quite untruthfully. ‘What I’m interested in is having my good name cleared.’

  ‘Oh, you’re making a fuss about nothing. This’ll soon blow over.’

  ‘Yes, it will,’ agreed Lisa. ‘Provided you go out there right now and tell him the truth.’

  ‘Are you crazy? Matt would murder me!’

  ‘It serves you right if he does.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Lisa, have a heart,’ wheedled Tim. ‘Blackening a lady’s reputation, lying, cheating, preferring painting to Accountancy 101, those are all capital crimes in Uncle Matt’s book. I’ll nev
er come out of that room alive if I tell him the truth.’

  With a dismissive shrug he began picking up his pyjama jacket and turning down the bed, as if he had no other thought but to turn out the light and go to sleep. Lisa snatched the jacket away from him and held it behind her back.

  ‘You wimp! You wussy! You pathetic little worm!’ she accused. ‘You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Tim candidly, making a wild snatch at the pyjama jacket.

  ‘Well, I’m not!’ cried Lisa. ‘And if you don’t tell him the truth, I will!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell him already then?’

  ‘Because I felt sorry for you, you despicable little wretch!’ she replied hotly. ‘Heaven knows why! And I thought it should come from you. You’d have much more chance of getting him to approve your art studies if you stood up for yourself and told him the truth. But if you’re too chicken-hearted, I’ll have to do it.’

  A sly look began to glint in Tim’s brown eyes, sending chills of misgiving up Lisa’s spine.

  ‘Wait a minute, Lisa,’ he begged. ‘There’s something else you haven’t considered.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve entered for the Buller Art Prize and the results of the competition won’t be out for another six weeks. Look, I know I don’t have a hope in hell of winning, but suppose a miracle happened? Three years in Paris studying art with a studio apartment and a living allowance! If I won that, Matt would have to take my painting seriously. He’d have to let me go. Or if he wouldn’t, stuff it, I’d just go anyway. Can’t you wait until the competition results come out before you spill the beans to him?’

  ‘This is crazy,’ faltered Lisa. ‘I know you’re talented, Tim, but every young artist in Australia is after that prize. It’s true that your uncle would have to take you seriously if you won, but, well…’

  Tim saw her hesitation and pounced.

  ‘Just wait another six weeks, that’s all I ask.’

  ‘No, I won’t! Your uncle has already told me I’m scheming and ambitious and I’m sick of being made to look a fool.’

  ‘Well, get your own back on him,’ urged Tim craftily. ‘Make him look a fool instead. Pretend you’re going to marry me and let him sweat it out for another six weeks.’

  Lisa hesitated and a sly grin began to curve the edges of her mouth. The plan did have a certain evil charm. And how satisfying it would be to make that smug, disapproving Matt Lansdon as uneasy as he had made her!

  ‘What would we tell him about us once the six weeks were up?’ she objected.

  Tim shrugged.

  ‘We could always say we’d had a fight and split up,’ he replied airily. ‘At least it would give you time to find somewhere else to live, if that’s what you want to do.’

  ‘Well—’ began Lisa uncertainly.

  ‘I knew I could count on you, sweetie!’ exclaimed Tim, sweeping her into his arms and giving her a brotherly hug. ‘Let’s go in and tell Uncle Matt we’re thinking of an April wedding. I’ll just put my pyjama top on.’

  Lisa’s smile broadened.

  ‘Leave it off,’ she advised.

  Matt was lounging back in the leather couch with a tumbler of whisky in his hand when they entered the sunroom. Lisa felt a spurt of annoyance at the way he had made himself at home and then realized belatedly that he had every right to do so. After all, he was the owner of this flat. At the sight of them, he set down his glass and rose to his feet before stretching out his hand to his nephew.

  ‘Tim,’ he said pleasantly, but with an ominous undertone in his voice.

  Tim flinched at that crushing grip, but smiled gamely.

  ‘Hello, Uncle Matt,’ he said with only a hint of nervousness beneath the bravado. ‘I believe you’ve come to congratulate me on my engagement.’

  Matt’s eyebrows rose.

  ‘So matters have gone that far, have they?’ he enquired. ‘Aren’t you rushing things a bit?’

  Tim looked as if his nerve might be about to desert him, so Lisa came to his rescue.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she sighed rapturously. ‘I’m sure you know what it’s like when you’re in love, Matt. We just can’t wait any longer to make it official.’

  Matt’s blue eyes flashed sparks.

  ‘Is that so?’ he murmured. ‘Well, if Tim’s going to support a wife, I suppose he’d better come home and get some practical experience on the farm. It will all belong to him one of these days and he’s been a bit remiss about his duties so far. All that will have to change now. I’m sure that getting up at dawn mustering sheep and mending fences will do wonders for you, lad.’

  Tim gave a sickly smile. His idea of an early morning was getting up before noon and having several cups of espresso coffee in a Lygon Street cafe with Barbara.

  ‘That’s nice of you, Uncle,’ he said in a failing voice. ‘But I’ll be busy here in Melbourne.’

  ‘What with?’ asked Matt. ‘Exams are over, aren’t they? What other plans do you have for the long vacation?’

  Tim darted Lisa a harried glance.

  ‘Oh, extra swotting for next year,’ he said, inventing hastily. ‘Or perhaps a holiday job at the Australian Stock Exchange or the Bureau of Statistics. And I really ought to get some coaching on my weak points in accountancy.’

  ‘It’s good to see you taking an interest in your studies at last,’ murmured Matt with a grim smile. ‘But you can do most of that back on the farm. Not the part-time jobs, of course, but certainly the coaching in accountancy. I can help you myself. We can spend all day in the saddle and the evening studying the stock market right through till midnight, if you like. Yes, yes. That’s an excellent idea.’

  An appalled expression crossed Tim’s face.

  ‘I—I can’t!’ he stammered, glancing wildly around for inspiration. ‘I’d miss Lisa too much.’

  Matt smiled. A hard, dangerous smile.

  ‘Oh, Lisa must come, too,’ he said in a silky voice. ‘If she’s going to be a farmer’s wife, she’s going to need to learn all the skills of running the place. Churning butter, driving tractors, cooking for the workers, dealing with snakes. I’m sure she’ll have a wonderful time. And of course it will give her a chance to meet the rest of the family, too, since they’re all coming for Christmas. No doubt you’ll want to cook Christmas dinner for us, Lisa? It will only be a small gathering of the clan this year, no more than fifteen or twenty, I’d say. And it will give you an excellent chance to get to know Tim’s mother better.’

  Lisa emitted a soft wail like the sound of a whoopee cushion.

  ‘Did you say something?’ asked Matt. ‘Or am I imagining things? I’m afraid I am getting rather hard of hearing. It’s a hazard that afflicts elderly uncles.’

  His eyes met hers, bright, hard, challenging and far from elderly. She could have given in immediately, could have told him the truth or simply refused his invitation and quietly moved out of the flat the following day. Yet Lisa was naturally obstinate. She might refuse an invitation, but never a challenge. A martial glint came into her eye and she lifted her chin defiantly.

  ‘Thank you, Matt,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure Tim and I will have a lovely time staying with you.’

  If Matt was disconcerted by her response he didn’t show it.

  ‘Good. I’ll book the airline tickets and be back tomorrow morning to pick you up,’ he promised.

  Matt didn’t give her a chance to renege on her agreement. He returned just as he had threatened the following morning. Tim and Lisa had risen at what they both regarded as the outrageously early hour of nine o’clock and were sharing breakfast in a decidedly unloverlike atmosphere when they heard Matt ring the front doorbell below. Lisa was having dire thoughts about the wisdom of the whole escapade and Tim was scowling moodily about the prospect of leaving Barbara and the night-life of Melbourne. The sound of the doorbell breaking in on their quarrelsome consumption of cornflakes almost came as a relief. Lisa turned red and then white and half rose to her feet at the s
ound.

  ‘We ought to tell him the truth,’ she said in a tormented voice.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ protested Tim. ‘He’ll probably evict you on the spot and cut my allowance for the next six months if we do. Just stay cool, Lisa, and let me handle this.’

  That was more easily said than done as Lisa discovered when Tim vanished downstairs and returned with his uncle in tow. Matt was just as impeccably dressed as on the previous day and radiated the same air of ruthless confidence. The fickle spring sunshine of the previous day had given way to showers and he was wearing a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt and striped tie beneath a camel-coloured cashmere overcoat. His face had the alert, dangerous look of a corporate raider engaged in a tricky takeover bid. When his eyes met Lisa’s, she stared defiantly back, suddenly conscious of the thoughts that must be running through his mind as he took in every detail of her faded Levi’s, figure-hugging ribbed sweater, patchwork velvet jacket and scuffed Italian hiking boots. She hadn’t deliberately dressed that way in order to antagonize him, but she felt a spurt of amusement at the unmistakable flash of disapproval in his eyes. It would do him good to realize that not everybody in the world was as conservative and hidebound as him! Seeing him now, she found it impossible to believe that this stern, disapproving stranger had kissed her so violently the previous night and that she had responded with such fervour. She didn’t even like him! He was arrogant, humourless and entirely too self-satisfied. He deserved to have this deception played on him!

  ‘Well, are you both ready to go to the airport?’ he asked.

  ‘I suppose so,’ muttered Tim, rising to his feet and slouching towards the door. ‘Although I’d really rather stay here.’

  ‘What about the cereal bowls?’ demanded Matt.

  ‘What about them?’ retorted Tim blankly, pausing in the doorway.

  ‘There’s an old Australian custom that you two have probably never encountered,’ said Matt in a hard voice. ‘It’s called washing up.’

  Lisa smothered a grin as Tim, obedient to that hypnotic blue stare, meekly carried the two bowls into the kitchen and washed them. It had always driven her crazy the way her young flatmate blithely scattered dirty plates and dirty clothes on every available surface for her to clean up. Perhaps Matt Lansdon had his uses after all!