Sophisticated Seduction

by Jayne Bauling

  ‘But I don’t want to see you, Loris,’ she offered stiltedly, realising that Nicholas had left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Why not?’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I know! My cousin Nicholas is there with you and you’ve fallen for him!’

  ‘I have not! I don’t want to see you because I didn’t like the way you had me lined up to replace Pagan,’ Bridget corrected him heatedly, and, realising that the silence from Loris had a blank quality, she explained, ‘I heard you talking to Virginia just after the last time I saw you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Loris sounded only mildly chagrined. ‘I don’t suppose an apology would help?’

  To her surprise, she felt inclined to laugh. ‘If you mean it, I’ll accept it, but I still don’t want to see you again.’

  A brief silence, and then she could hear the philosophical shrug in his voice. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to put you down as the one that got away. I did realise what an idealist you were—I hope you weren’t too upset, Bridget, but that’s the way I live my life.’

  Not so long ago, his lack of real regret would have been a cause for humiliation, but no longer.

  ‘And not the way I live mine, so perhaps it’s a good thing for both of us that I did hear you, and if I was upset to begin with I’ve benefited by it in the long run,’ she vouchsafed quietly, realising it was true, and untroubled by the knowledge that Loris didn’t really deserve the clear conscience she was letting him get away with as she had never been vindictive.

  He rang off in high good humour a few seconds later, and Bridget promptly forgot him, her mind flying to Nicholas, who had not yet returned to the bedroom.

  The reality of what she had been doing, and about to do, made her turn both hot and cold, shame and horror her dominant emotions.

  Bridget got up off the bed shakily, pulling on the cotton top she had been wearing and gathering up her skirt, bra and sandals, too afraid that Nicholas might return at any moment to spend time putting them on.

  A single tearless sob tore at her as she reached her own bedroom, her whole body aching strangely, but it wasn’t an occasion for crying. No one had hurt her, no one broken her heart.

  Shocked beyond measure by her behaviour, she discovered it was a time for burning, over the way her body’s wanton urges had betrayed her. Bridget’s shame was so scorching, a pyre for her self-respect, that even her healthy young body’s physical frustration was swiftly consumed in the fire.

  Anxiety came a little later, after the worst of the selfrecrimination was over. What now, what next? She couldn’t hope to persuade Nicholas that she didn’t want him, after the way she had behaved tonight. She dared not even leave her room to go and retrieve the bag and papers she had left in the living-room, in case she encountered him and got sucked back into the realm of the senses that so ruthlessly precluded principles. But what about tomorrow, if she saw him before she left? Or next week, when she got back from Varanasi?

  What was she going to do? The question tormented Bridget long into the night, as did others, such as why she should be so drawn, if only physically, to such an arrogant, cynical man.

  Following anxiety came sheer wonder, when she reflected on her response to Nicholas, and a degree of embarrassment as she realised how much of it all had been due to him; how it had been Nicholas pleasuring her— and what had she done for him? Not, admittedly, that he had seemed dissatisfied in any way, but it troubled her obscurely, perhaps only because it was against her nature to take without giving.

  Rather resentfully she wondered why she should care, let alone feel regret over the fact that she couldn’t right the wrong when there could be no repeat of what had happened tonight.

  Only, how to stop it happening again?

  Bridget kept half expecting a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and she guessed that Loris’s call must have altered his mood. Nevertheless, even after she had calmed down sufficiently to bath and go to bed, she remained restless, taking so long to fall asleep that it was an aching effort to force herself out of bed when her travelling alarm went in the morning.

  As it was so early, Sita hadn’t yet arrived, and Bridget helped herself to fruit juice and made coffee after phoning for a taxi, remaining in the kitchen to drink it while she checked the various papers she would need in Varanasi.

  A slight sound made her look up. Nicholas stood in the doorway buttoning his shirt and studying her expressionlessly, and Bridget’s colour rose as she straightened from her leaning position against the table.

  ‘I wanted to see you before you left. Relax, Bridget,’ he added mockingly, seeing how she had stiffened. ‘As you can see, I’m dressing, not undressing, and furthermore what we started last night is not going to be concluded until you can assure me that you’re no longer involved with my cousin, and it seems that the relationship is on again at present. As I’ve told you, I don’t share—although I have proved to my satisfaction that you’re not in love with him, and presumably the lesson has been learnt on your side, if you really had yourself convinced that you were. I suppose marriage or money is the real attraction?’

  Paramount among several tumultuously conflicting emotions was resentment of his cynical mockery.

  ‘Do you know how vile and insulting that is?’ she demanded bitingly.

  ‘But it comes close to the truth, doesn’t it?’ Nicholas slanted her a taunting smile. ‘If you loved Loris, you wouldn’t have been so ready to go to bed with me last night. Oh, I suppose I can understand why you’ve been deceiving yourself, if he was your first lover. Idealistic young girls are at their most idealistic about themselves, and have a tendency to want to believe they’re in love with whoever they first go to bed with. The thing I find strange about it all is the way Loris said he wasn’t done with you yet, when I asked why he wanted to talk to you. He doesn’t usually take the trouble to go back, once he’s moved on from a relationship, and yours must have happened prior to the one with this actress he’s now tired of, Pagan someone-or-other.’

  ‘Then doesn’t that tell you anything about my supposed relationship with him?’ Bridget flared.

  ‘It tells me either that you were the one who walked out on him before he was ready to let go, or that you’ve pulled off a seeming miracle and have got him exactly where you want him, which means all that crying over him was needless,’ Nicholas derided. ‘Weren’t you sure of him?’

  The crying had been needless anyway, she now suspected, in view of her lack of real distress over his call last night. He hadn’t wounded her in the heart, just in the pride she had only so recently discovered she possessed.

  In the midst of resenting the interpretation Nicholas still insisted on placing on her involvement with Loris, this realisation brought a fleeting relief, but thoughts of Loris in any context could no longer hold her mind for more than a few seconds, especially when she had Nicholas to deal with.

  ‘I cried because I thought I was hurt,’ she submitted tightly.

  ‘And it turns out you weren’t!’ he mocked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘So the affair is on again, or will be when you get home. Except that there’s a part of you that wants an affair with me… But it’s up to you now, Bridget. You know what to do. How about some coffee?’

  ‘Pour your own! There’s plenty in the pot and I’m not having any more. My taxi should be here soon.’

  ‘You’re flying, right?’ As she nodded, he was inspecting her short, straight chalk-coloured skirt and matching short-sleeved jacket. ‘I’ll see you when you get back and I’ll want to know what you’ve been doing— because I still don’t trust you, Bridget, with my cousin’s future or with my sister’s business.’

  She didn’t trust herself either, at least where he was concerned, Bridget reflected furiously. It was just as well she was going to Varanasi.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘AH, BRIDGET, how are you?’ A handsome, dynamic man of about forty, Anand Bhandari rose with a welcoming smile as Bridget entered his office in the magnifi
cent modern building where Stirling Industries’ Indian division occupied one floor. ‘And Varanasi?’

  Happily, she told him what she had achieved in Varanasi. She had returned to Delhi the night before, to learn from Sita that Nicholas was away in one of the new industrial regions where he had acquired some factories.

  Finally, after asking after his wife Mirabai, who had been so hospitable when she had first arrived, Bridget prompted, ‘My Rajasthan trip, Mr Bhandari? I think you said you’d have my ticket and other reservations for me by now. I’m so grateful to you for making all my travel arrangements for me. Do I go by train or bus?’

  ‘Oh, Nicholas Stirling told me not to make the bookings for you when he found out what your itinerary was, as he’s able to drive you there himself, with an overnight stop in Agra, because of course you must see the Taj Mahal while you’re here.’ He smiled at her amazed expression. ‘And then, in Rajasthan, you’re to be guests of the previous owners of the house in which you’re staying here. Chiranji Narayan is a descendant of former Rajput royalty, and he and his wife still live in one of the palaces with which that region is scattered, so you’ll find it an interesting experience.’

  ‘But Nicholas can’t just alter my arrangements like that!’ Bridget’s eyes were blazing.

  ‘Why don’t you discuss it with him? He has just returned to Delhi and he came straight here. He’s using the office next door.’

  ‘I’ll do that, thank you.’ Bridget accepted the suggestion tautly, and turned down his courteous offer to escort her the few steps it took to bring her into Nicholas’s presence.

  ‘Hello, how was Varanasi?’ was his mild greeting as he rose from behind a desk littered with papers and what looked like building plans.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing, changing my arrangements without consulting me?’ In a rare temper, Bridget didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I am not going to Rajasthan with you!’

  ‘Why not?’ he returned easily. ‘For once I can spare the time to keep a proper watch on what you’re doing, and it won’t interfere with your own original schedule. Additionally, I know India and you’ve said yourself that I’m a good guide. You really ought to see the Taj while you’re here.’

  ‘That has nothing to do with this, so don’t pretend it has!’ Fury was making her articulate. ‘You don’t care if I see it or not. You’ve done this because you don’t trust me to do Virginia’s work properly, or for some other motive of your own, but I don’t trust you, Nicholas, and I am not going with you! I don’t like people interfering with my plans. I feel so sorry for your sister and cousins. This is how you organise their lives for them, isn’t it?’

  ‘Since they’re mostly incapable of managing their lives for themselves,’ Nicholas retorted with a shrug, sounding faintly weary.

  ‘You are so arrogant!’

  ‘Honest,’ he corrected her flatly.

  His tone finally impinged on her, subduing her rage, and now that she was no longer seeing him through its red haze of resentment she noticed that he looked slightly tired as well, his dark skin stretched tautly across the beautiful bones which gave his features that attractively chiselled aspect.

  Less angrily, she said, ‘You have no right to interfere in anything I’m doing.’

  ‘I have, when what you’re doing affects my family,’ he asserted arrogantly, before giving her a brilliant smile that drove the look of strain from his face for as long as it lasted. ‘Plus, I want to be the one to show you the Taj.’

  He made it almost flirtatious, causing her a pang of unease. Was he still intent on seducing her?

  ‘Why?’ she derided, gently caustic. ‘It’s supposed to be a monument to love, and you don’t believe in love.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it’s an impressive piece of architecture and workmanship,’ he claimed blandly. ‘We’ll get there in time for you to see it in sunlight as well as moonlight, as I’ve booked rooms at an Agra hotel for tomorrow night.’

  Bridget hesitated, regarding him warily and finding that looking at him hurt her in some inexplicable way.

  ‘I haven’t said I agree,’ she reminded him tightly. ‘You may or may not be entitled to interfere in your family’s lives, but you cannot do it with mine, and Virginia had no right to ask you to watch over me after she’d had enough faith in my ability to send me here.’

  ‘Nevertheless, that’s what I have every intention of doing,’ Nicholas warned her. ‘Have you been in contact with my cousin again yet?’

  The abrupt digression held Bridget silent for several seconds.

  ‘Loris? What for?’ she finally demanded shortly.

  His smile was sharp. ‘To tell him it’s over, of course.’

  ‘What’s over?’ Bridget asked, and heard the exasperated breath he expelled.

  ‘If you’re determined to be obtuse about this, can you save it for tonight?’ he requested impatiently, glancing down at the crowded desk. ‘I’ve got a whole lot of requirements to get in order for Anand before the improvements I want can be implemented.’

  ‘Will you be eating at the house tonight?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll see you then.’ Something occurred to him. ‘Why don’t you tell Sita she can have the evening off and cook something for us yourself?’

  Bridget stared at him in indignant disbelief. ‘You really have got more nerve than anyone I’ve ever met! No, I won’t do any such thing. I may not even be there myself.’

  Nicholas was surveying her with a strange smile, and Bridget felt something lurch peculiarly within her.

  ‘Be there, Bridget,’ he said very softly, and yet it came across as an order. ‘But please leave now.’

  She would not be there, she decided, her mood one of wild defiance as she whirled out of the office. Only later did she realise that she would have to stay in and see him, because she had to make it clear to him that she did not want him accompanying her to Rajasthan.

  For one thing, she didn’t trust him—or herself. Additionally, she found his belief that she would let Virginia down and his arrogant insistence on making himself responsible for her galling, although now that she knew him a bit better she was beginning to accept that that was just the way the man was, cynical and distrustful.

  Bridget had never had a true enemy in her life, but many friends, and sustained hostility didn’t come naturally to her. Nevertheless, resentment was still the strongest of her emotions when Nicholas returned to the house that night. The memory of her physical response to him remained disconcerting, and even without that he could be an unnerving man.

  Also, she found his cynicism abrasive. After he had showered, they sat outside in the fountain courtyard with drinks and he questioned her about what she had done in Varanasi, his expression giving nothing away as he heard her answers, although Bridget was confident that she had acquitted herself well. To turn the tables, she began asking him about his newly acquired factories and his desire for even stricter safety standards than the regulations demanded, but after telling her a little he stopped suddenly, slanting her a sharply challenging smile.

  ‘Playing house, Bridget? Asking about a man’s day, showing an interest in his job? It doesn’t really interest you, you told me.’

  She swallowed a defensive answer and met his eyes frankly. ‘It does, now that I know someone who is involved in that sort of thing. That makes all the difference. Loris told me a bit about it, too.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Loris.’ He made the words sound deeply significant.

  ‘Stop being so horrible!’ she snapped. ‘Most people take an interest in each other’s lives.’

  ‘So tell me about yours,’ he invited her.

  ‘There’s hardly anything to tell.’

  Because she had hardly lived yet, she acknowledged privately.

  But one or two questions from Nicholas and she couldn’t help responding naturally, unconsciously drawing a picture of a conventional but never narrowminded upbringing in the heart of a loving and protective family. With them well behind her, she could als
o turn her trials in a couple of temporary jobs into funny lessons in philosophy, and the pride she took in her position at Ginny’s was simple and unaffected.

  ‘You admire my sister, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, so much! She’s clever and considerate. I used to think she was a bit hard and solitary—too alone—but that was before she fell in love.’

  ‘I still don’t get that. I can’t believe she’s capable of such idiocy, just as I don’t get Loris not being through with you yet.’ Nicholas was frowning frustratedly. ‘We don’t do things like that—Virginia, our cousins and me.’

  ‘I remember Virginia saying something about women being victims of their own natures… No!’ Bridget shook her head vehemently as she made up her mind. ‘I think she’s wrong. It’s nothing to do with our sex and our different natures; it’s our hearts, and we’ve all got those—men too.’

  ‘Some just softer and warmer than others.’ He was laughing at her.

  ‘Some normally functional, others not,’ she corrected him tartly, and changed the subject hurriedly. ‘Have you heard from Virginia again?’

  ‘No, and nor have I heard from Loris again since—’ Nicholas broke off and gave her a rather wolfish smile. ‘Since his timely interruption last week, as I must assume that’s how you regard it?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ she confirmed feelingly, but blushing slightly.

  ‘And you haven’t spoken to him either yet, you told me,’ he went on musingly. ‘So until you do you and I are prevented from taking up where we left off.’

  ‘Great,’ she approved sharply, concealing her eyes as she finally realised what he meant and making a swift decision. ‘I don’t want to take up where we left off, Nicholas!’

  ‘I think you do, Bridget, but let’s not turn it into a childish do-don’t argument.’