by Susan Napier;Kathryn Ross;Kelly Hunter;Sandra Marton;Katherine Garbera;Margaret Mayo
Then he should have stayed and made sure she did. Anna felt decidedly disgruntled by his absence. He knew she was leaving today. Didn’t he want to say goodbye? Had she misinterpreted the signals last night? And what had that slammed door been all about?
She’d thought it was sexual frustration. Obviously she’d been wrong. He didn’t want her any more; he’d come to his senses, realised she was the enemy. Well, that was all right with her. When he came back, she’d be gone; he would never see her again. She poured her tea and stirred it so furiously that it spilled into the saucer.
But before Anna had even left the breakfast table Mrs Green announced that she had a visitor.
‘It’s Rosemary Langford,’ she informed Anna through pursed lips. ‘I told her Oliver was out but she said she’d like to speak to you. I’ve put her in the drawing room.’
Anna didn’t want to speak to Rosemary—not now, not any time. But there was no getting out of it. ‘Very well, Mrs Green. Give me five minutes and then come and rescue me.’
The housekeeper’s thin face broke into a smile. ‘With pleasure.’
Rosemary wore another black suit in fine wool with a much shorter skirt and high-heeled suede shoes. Anna grudgingly admitted that Rosemary had a good pair of legs for her age. In fact, she was one very smart woman, her jet-black hair brushed severely back this morning and tied in a loose knot in her nape. She most certainly didn’t look as though she was in need of a cut of Edward’s fortune. And she made Anna feel distinctly underdressed in her cotton shirt and jeans.
The woman had been standing near the window, surveying the autumn tints in the garden. She turned as Anna walked into the room, gold hoop earrings swinging, her smile artificial, her grey eyes wary and calculating. ‘So good of you to see me.’
Good didn’t enter into it, thought Anna bitterly, she’d had no choice. ‘I’m sorry Oliver’s not here.’
‘It wasn’t Oliver I came to see. I want you to speak to him for me, Anna. I want you to persuade him that I should get a share of Edward’s money.’
There was nothing like coming straight out with it. Anna wanted to laugh right into the woman’s face. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do that.’
‘Whyever not?’
‘Because it has nothing to do with me.’
‘Because you’ve been left out of the will, too? I wonder why that was?’ There was a mean gleam in Rosemary’s narrowed eyes. ‘Did Edward have it in for you, the same as he did me?’
Anna shook her head firmly. There was no way she wanted this woman lumping the two of them together, making out they were both casualties of the will. ‘I think my circumstances and yours are miles apart.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Scarlet lips twisted into a meaningful smile. ‘I hear your marriage is on the rocks. Your little charade yesterday didn’t fool me for one second.’
‘And what has that got to do with it?’ asked Anna, her eyes flashing, her composure slipping for a second. She’d seen Rosemary latch on to Melanie, seen them looking across at her, so it wasn’t hard to guess where she’d got her information from. But she was not going to give the woman the pleasure of knowing how bad the rift was between her and Oliver.
‘It means we’ve both suffered at the hands of the Langford men,’ spat Rosemary. ‘And, believe me, whether you help or not, I intend fighting for what I believe is rightly mine.’
The gall of the woman was incredible. How could Rosemary even think for one second that she deserved to benefit from Edward’s estate? ‘Then you’ll fight alone,’ declared Anna. ‘I want no part in it.’
‘Actually, I’ve already begun. I’ve moved in to Weston Hall.’
The note of triumph in her voice, the toss of her head, the gleam in her eyes, made Anna look at her sharply. ‘You’re not serious?’ In the background the phone rang but it barely registered. This was much more important.
‘When I went back there yesterday, everyone was leaving. No one took any notice of me. I simply wandered upstairs and found myself a comfortable bedroom. To think I once thought Edward would lose that magnificent place. I underestimated his business acumen. And it’s in even better condition now than it used to be. Is Oliver thinking of moving in?’
‘The phone is for you, Anna.’ Mrs Green appeared in the doorway.
‘Is it Oliver?’ Anna prayed it was, she must tell him straight away what Rosemary was doing.
‘No, it’s the call you were expecting.’
‘Oh, yes, I see. Thank you. Rosemary, this may take some time. I think it would be best if you went.’
The woman didn’t look bothered; she’d said all she’d come to say. ‘You will pass on the information to Oliver?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Thank you for seeing me.’ And she sailed out with a satisfied smirk on her face.
‘Did I do right?’ asked the housekeeper. ‘You looked mighty worried.’
‘Perfect, Mrs Green. Is there anyone on the phone?’
A smile softened the woman’s anxious face. ‘No. I rang from the other line, the one Oliver had put in his study for when he’s sailing the Net.’
Anna grinned. ‘I never knew you were so devious. And it’s “surfing”, Mrs Green.’
‘Well, whatever. It did the trick, didn’t it?’ she asked, her smile even wider.
‘Without a doubt. Now I must find Oliver and quickly. Have you really no idea where he is?’
‘I’ve a feeling he planned to see his solicitor,’ the housekeeper answered uncertainly.
When Oliver heard the news he was livid, and in no time Anna saw his car shoot straight past Weston Lodge and up to the main house, skidding round the corner as he went. She hoped he hadn’t driven like that all the way from Cambridge.
It was a good hour before he returned. Anna had waited impatiently and met him at the door. Her heart went out to him when she saw the deep lines etched into his brow, the distress in his eyes. She wanted to comfort him, hold him—take him to bed. This last thought shocked her. Where had that come from?
‘I’m sorry she dragged you into it,’ he said. ‘I’ve managed to get rid of her—for the time being.’
‘Do you think she’ll stay around while she’s contesting the will?’ asked Anna in concern. ‘Where does she actually live?’
‘I’ve no idea on both counts,’ he answered shortly. ‘And I can’t say that I’m interested. I could murder a coffee, though. Ask Mrs G, will you, while I get changed?’
Ten minutes later, the pin-striped suit replaced by black jeans and a thin crew-neck sweater, a mug of coffee cradled between his palms, Oliver sat looking at her. ‘Who’d have thought things would turn out like this.’
‘What did Charles have to say?’ Anna’s coffee was on the table at her side, her hands folded neatly on her lap. She sat still and calm but inwardly she was furious over Rosemary’s behaviour. Oliver’s mother had no right doing this to him.
‘That she hasn’t a leg to stand on. But I don’t think that’s going to stop her. She’s set her mind on getting something out of this. She does the same with every man in her life, and there have been many. I’ve done some digging. I really don’t like what I’ve found out,’ he added grimly.
Anna didn’t feel she could ask for details; it was no longer any of her business. ‘Are you going to live up at the Hall yourself?’
‘Not on your life.’ His answer was quick in coming and very definite. ‘I’ll never live there. I’m putting it on the market—this house as well.’
Anna stopped in the act of picking up her coffee cup. ‘But Weston Hall’s been in your family for generations, Oliver. How can you do that?’
He shrugged unconcernedly. ‘Home can be the humblest cottage. That place is a pile of bricks and mortar, far too big for me. I don’t know why my father carried on living there.’
‘Have you told Rosemary?’
‘No. She’d be back in there like a thief in the night, taking everything she could lay her hands on. She thinks I’m moving in
and hopefully she won’t find out any differently until it’s too late.’
Anna finally drank her now almost cold coffee. ‘It will be a mammoth task sorting everything. I could help, if you like?’ Her heart pitter-pattered as she made the offer. Quite why she’d done it, she wasn’t sure. It had come from deep within her.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed. ‘I thought you were leaving?’
‘I don’t have to,’ she said with a faint smile and a lift of her slender shoulders. ‘And with Rosemary possibly still lurking I thought maybe you could do with some support?’
Oliver looked at her for a long suspended moment. Anna felt a faint eruption inside her, a quivering response to the query in those golden eyes.
No! That wasn’t the reason she’d offered, she told herself firmly. She felt sorry for him, that was all.
‘Well, thank you, Anna, that’s kind of you.’ But a raised brow suggested that he wasn’t altogether sure of her motives.
‘It’s not because I’m hoping to get anything out of it,’ she pointed out swiftly and firmly. ‘I’m doing it solely to help you.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’ And still the golden eyes watched her.
Desire began to pump, sensual liquid desire that found its way into every vein and every nerve, heightening her awareness, warming her skin. ‘Because,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m not entirely insensitive to your needs. Maybe our marriage didn’t work out, but it doesn’t mean to say I hate you, or wouldn’t do anything to help you.’
‘And what needs would those be?’ His voice deepened, his eyes burning into hers in such a way that she felt sure he knew her every thought, her every emotion.
She drew in a deep, steadying breath. ‘It will take many weeks to sort through your father’s stuff, to decide what to get rid of and what to keep.’
‘And you’re prepared to live here with me while all of this goes on? Without asking for anything in return?’ He paused long enough to let his question sink in, and then added bitterly, ‘In my experience, no woman does anything for nothing.’
In other words, he still didn’t trust her. He probably thought she’d bag the family silver while he wasn’t looking. ‘If that’s what you think,’ she snapped, her eyes a vivid flash of emerald in a pale, distraught face, ‘then forget I offered. I’ll go and tell Mrs Green I won’t be here for lunch. I have a plane to catch.’ Her head was high as she pushed herself out of the chair.
But before she reached the door, Oliver leapt up and laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘No, Anna, don’t leave. I’m sorry; I’m touched by your offer. You took me by surprise, that’s all.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I would like your help.’
His smile did something to her—melted her anger, made her smile back in return. ‘I promise you won’t be disappointed.’
And nor was he. In the days that followed, Oliver truly enjoyed having Anna around. There was an enormous amount of work to be done, much more than he’d first thought, and they worked steadily side by side, hour after hour, day after day.
They separated everything into various categories. Some to be kept for his own personal use, although there wasn’t much of that—he wanted no reminders. Stuff to be dumped, some to go to charity, and the rest to either be sold separately or with the house.
And the more time they spent together, the more difficult he found it to remain detached. His feelings for Anna had not faded one little bit. She’d let him down, she’d disappointed him, she’d angered him—made him furious, in fact—but working beside that delectable body day after day soon began to tell on him.
He couldn’t sleep at night for thinking about her, wondering whether he dared go to her room. What would happen if he did? If he took her into his bed now, she would think he’d forgiven her, would believe there was hope—whereas he still wasn’t sure that he trusted her motives. He wanted to, he really did, but past experience had taught him that it was safest to let his head rule his heart.
But all his good intentions went by the board one morning when she tripped over the flex of a lamp and fell against him. It was like a replay of the day they’d first met. His arms instinctively went around her and the same sensual perfume had the same drugging effect.
With a groan, his arms tightened and everything he’d held in check came pulsing uncontrollably to life. The feel of her tempting, exciting body burst open the floodgates of desire.
And when she didn’t resist, when he felt her tremble, when he saw the difficulty she had in breathing, he knew that he was not going to let her go.
He cupped her face between his palms, looked for several haunting, meaningful seconds into her incredible luminous eyes, and with a further agonised groan his mouth closed over hers.
Anna was beyond stopping him. She was amazingly helpless. His lips burned where they touched. It had been so long since he’d kissed her, really kissed her, that her limbs had gone fluid and if he dared let her go she feared that she would melt into a pool on the floor.
‘Oh, Anna!’ he breathed. ‘What you do to me.’ And his tongue darted between her lips, seeking and finding the pleasure he desperately desired.
It was Anna’s turn to moan, to feel a need so deep that it scared her. Her tongue played games with his; she tasted the never-to-be-forgotten maleness of him, ground her hips against his, felt the damning evidence of his arousal.
More excitement, more fear. She ought to stop him but how could she? How could she deny herself such exquisite pleasure? It had been inevitable from the moment she offered to stay that something like this would happen. The surprising part was that it had taken so long.
All the emotions she’d kept bottled up rushed to the surface. She returned kiss for earth-shattering kiss, deeply, wantonly, and when he picked her up and carried her effortlessly towards the stairs she did nothing to stop him.
Her body needed his; it needed to be loved, it begged fulfilment. Neither of them spoke, tension building, breathing becoming difficult, painful even, and in the bedroom—she assumed the one Oliver had used when he was staying with his father—he dropped her on to the bed and raced to get out of his clothes.
Anna watched with fascination the frenzy that was driving him. The burning desire, the jerky movements as first shirt and then shoes and socks were ripped off. Belt, zip, and he almost tripped in his haste to get out of his trousers.
Her stomach tightened when a pair of black briefs was all that was left between him and his modesty. And there was nothing very modest about what they were hiding.
It was time to get undressed herself. She’d lain almost trance-like as she watched Oliver’s frantic actions, but now her hunger got the better of her. Consumed by fire, pulses racing, heart thudding, her breasts already aching for his touch, she leapt off the bed and began to lift her sweater.
‘No! Don’t! That’s my job.’ His urgent voice reached into her unconscious.
She hadn’t even realised that he was watching her. His briefs were gone. He stood tall and totally male in front of her, perfectly at ease with his nakedness. ‘This is all right, Anna?’ he asked quietly, almost anxiously.
No words would come so she swallowed hard and nodded instead. He took the bottom of her lambswool sweater. She raised her arms and he stripped it off in one fluid movement. Her jeans followed with not quite so much patience.
His breathing was ragged and Anna felt his tremors as he unclipped her bra and tossed it across the room, quickly followed by the matching black lacy briefs.
They fell on each other then, and Anna felt herself land with a thud on the bed. Oliver sucked first one and then the other burning nipple into his eager mouth, while his hand explored and tortured other regions.
Anna writhed beneath him, her hand seeking and finding what she wanted most.
‘Don’t touch,’ he groaned, ‘or I promise you I’ll never make it.’
But he did make it, and as he entered her, as their bodies fused, as passion took over, he wondered how he was going to live without her. And as t
hey lay in throbbing silence afterwards, their limbs too heavy to move, their hearts slowly getting back to normal, Oliver knew that this had been the best time ever—and, judging by Anna’s wild climactic response, the best for her, too.
It wasn’t until she cuddled into the crook of his arm, making little cooing sounds of satisfaction, stroking her fingers over his sweat-slicked chest, that it occurred to him that maybe this was what had been behind her offer of help. Maybe this had been in her mind all along—maybe she’d seen it as a way of getting through to him, of getting their marriage back on track.
So that she could wheedle even more money out of him!
His blood ran cold.
Chapter Six
ANNA couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed and watched a silver crescent of moon move slowly across the velvet darkness of the sky. She had thought, mistakenly as it turned out, that after their fantastic lovemaking Oliver would suggest she move back in to his bed. She had stupidly hoped it was the beginning of a reconciliation.
She could still feel the touch of his hands and mouth on her body, still feel a churning in her stomach, a pulsing through her veins. She clenched her thighs tightly together, nursing the sensation at their apex. How could Oliver do this to her? How could he leave her in limbo like this?
After their fast and furious enjoyment of each other’s bodies, they’d gone back to their sorting and packing, but the atmosphere between them had changed. It had become charged with electric tension, she was far too aware of him to concentrate on her task.
All she’d wanted to do was feast her eyes on him. She’d wanted to touch, to share, to feel, to continue this unexpected togetherness. But Oliver, sadly, seemed to regret his actions, beginning work with renewed vigour, practically ignoring her, not stopping until it was time for them to go back home to the meal Mrs Green always had ready for them.
After they’d eaten, he shut himself in his study to read his emails and check on the days running of his business. His computer was networked to his various branches and he’d explained to Anna that without it he would not have been able to take so much time off work.