‘Shiloh,’ she whispered, putting a tentative hand on his arm. His muscles were rigid and only his eyes moved towards her. ‘Shiloh, what is it?’ Her voice trembled and she grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on her dressing table and gently wiped his brow.
He let out a long breath. ‘My leg.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I guess I fell on it, against the bed.’
‘What can I do? Shall I get a doctor?’ she asked.
‘No, no. Just help me up so I can massage it.’ He tried to raise himself on one elbow and grimaced with pain.
She pulled him back on to the bed, drawing the pillow down under his head ‘Lie still. I’ll rub your leg for you. Just tell me how.’ She gingerly lifted his legs on to the bed so that he was lying flat. She went to pull up the leg of his trousers so that she could massage his leg properly and his hand took hold of her arm.
‘No, Danni. Don’t!’
She stopped and looked at him.
‘My leg,’ he said, ‘it was fairly badly smashed up. There’s scars. It’s not a pretty sight.’
‘I’ve seen scars before, Shiloh. Now lie back.’ She gently removed his hand and proceeded to fold up his trouser leg. Even knowing what to expect she was unprepared for the criss-cross of deep etches that ran the length of his leg from his knee. Her breath caught, but she schooled her face before she turned to look at him. His wry expression said ‘I told you so’, but he made no comment as she began to massage his leg from knee to ankle.
After a while he began to relax and some of the tension went out of him.
‘You should have left me to suffer,’ he murmured softly, ‘after the way I behaved.’
Stopping to remove his shoes, she resumed her gentle kneading. ‘You’re probably right,’ she said evenly.
Shiloh lapsed into silence again and sometime later she thought by his relaxed, even breathing that he had fallen asleep. She’d have to leave him here for the night and she’d use the spare bedroom. She moved to turn off the bedside light, leaning slightly over him to reach the switch. In the dim light from the living-room she caught a flash of tawny eyes as his hand fastened about her wrist.
‘Danni?’ he said softly, and the word was almost a caress. He exerted a slight pressure on her arm and pulled her on to the bed beside him. She landed softly against him, resting on his chest, and he gave a half sigh, half chuckle. ‘You have a very soothing touch, Miss Mathieson. I don’t suppose you’d consider a permanent position. The working conditions would be excellent and I promise not to beat you.’ His words were sleepily sensual.
A sudden yearning to be held against him almost overwhelmed her, but she pushed herself away from him. ‘Shiloh, this is insane,’ she whispered, and he placed a silencing finger on her lips.
‘Ssh! I thought you said it was late and you were tired. Besides,’ he added huskily, ‘you’ll wake me up and then I might have my mind on other things.’
Danni’s whole body flamed and she lay stiffly in his arms. He gave a sleepy chuckle and in no time he had drifted off into a relaxed sleep. She tried to hold her body away from his, but the whole evening’s exertions began to take their toll. She remembered thinking she must get up and go into the spare bedroom, but she dropped off before she could make the move, her body moulding itself into the contours of his, his arms cradling her head on his shoulder.
Something disturbed Danni. She reluctantly began to fight off the desire to lapse back into a pleasant slumber. There had been a noise somewhere, a car door closing perhaps. And there was something heavy across her waist. She stirred sleepily, opening her eyes to the brightness of the morning. Her eyelids went to close in protest when her gaze fell on the pale blue shirt beneath her cheek. Her eyes opened widely and she moved her head, looking straight into a pair of tawny yellow ones which had opened at the same time hers did. Danni felt herself blush at the implications of their position and his lips twitched.
‘I somehow feel you’ve ruined my reputation, Danni Mathieson.’ His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were wary, almost cold, and watched her steadily.
‘I’ve ruined yourâ Why, youâ’ Danni tried to sit up, but his arms held her to him.
‘I must apologise,’ he said with that same smile. ‘I have you in bed with me all night and I fall asleep. Inexcusable of me. I guess I’ll have to try to restore my image before it cracks completely.’ And his lips moved to cover hers.
Danni struggled to free herself, but his gently probing kisses, so different from those of the night before, were completely overruling her resolution. Her struggles became less frantic and ceased altogether, her hand slipping around his neck to move in the fine softness of his hair as she began to respond to the expertise of his kisses.
Shiloh turned on to his side until their bodies were pressed together, falling naturally into each other’s contours, and his hands played sensuously along her spine. ‘God, Danni, I’ve been just about out of my mind with wanting you,’ he said huskily, his lips trailing over her eyelids and her jaw until they reclaimed her lips with a burning urgent intensity.
Danni responded with her own rising passion, drowning in the sensuousness of their embrace. Her mind told her that the bedroom was too intimate, that they were playing with fire, a burning, all-consuming fire that could very easily race out of hand.
Neither of them heard the key turn in the front door lock. They were too caught up in the sensations of the moment. They were unaware of the sound of footsteps in the hall, moving into the living-room, until a voice broke through the tension-filled world that had woven a cocoon of desire about them.
‘You awake, Danni love? Whose is the flash green car blocking our driveway? I had to park outâ’ Jock Mathieson’s words faded away to nothing as he stared at his daughter through the open door of her bedroom.
Nothing was said for an immeasurable moment. The clock on Danni’s bedside table ticked away innocently as the tension swelled. Then Jock turned away and leant on his hands on the bar top, his straight back to them.
Danni moved out of Shiloh’s arms and ran into the living-room in horror. ‘Pop! Pop, please! It’s not what you think. Please believe me,’ she cried, wondering if she could have said that in all honesty had her father appeared any later. ‘IâWeâ Pop?’ she appealed to his uncompromising back, her face aflame.
He turned slowly towards her, his eyes old and pain-filled. ‘You’re over twenty-one, Danni. It’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all. I never thought my little girlâ’
‘Pop, don’t!’ Danni flung her arms about her father, and for the first time felt him stiffen before his arms went slowly around her.
She heard Shiloh move into the room behind her and turned imploring eyes on him. His face was set and his eyes were guarded and absolutely expressionless.
‘Jock,’ he said, and her father’s cold eyes didn’t waver from the younger man’s face as Danni felt his body grow more rigid.
‘Pop, we can explain. You see, Shiloh and Iâ’
Her father moved away from her again, walked behind the bar. He poured himself a glass of Scotch, and picking up her sweatshirt from the untidy heap where it had fallen the night before, he passed it wordlessly to her. His gaze settled on, and then slid away from the broken strap of her nightdress.
Danni felt herself flush and nervously tried to tuck the strap back into place.
‘You’d better leave this to me, Danni.’ Shiloh didn’t look even slightly contrite or uncomfortable. ‘My apologies, Jock. I’m afraid we didn’t expect you.’
Danni watched as her father’s features tensed and she cringed inside. Something screamed inside her. Nothing between her father and herself would ever be the same again, and it was all Shiloh O’Rourke’s fault. She turned on him.
‘Oh, what’s the use?’ She was almost in tears. ‘It can’t be changed now. And you’re only making it worse.’ She turned ba
ck to her father. ‘Pop, it was Shiloh’s leg. He fellâHe fell on it and I was massaging it for him and, well, we fell asleep. That’s all.’ She raised her hands and let them fall in distress. It sounded so lame even she didn’t believe it. ‘Nothing else happened, I swear.’
Jock shrugged his shoulders with controlled anger, his eyes fixed on the glass in his hand.
Shiloh moved across to her, his limp more pronounced than she had noticed it before. ‘Danni, be cool.’ He put his arm around her, held her so tightly she couldn’t shake it off. ‘Jock, we’re getting married and we’d like your blessing,’ he said evenly, and Danni froze in shock.
Jock tossed down what was left of his drink. ‘It seems to me you shouldn’t wait around too long before you tie the knot,’ he said flatly, pain in his eyes.
‘Pop, don’t listen to him! He’s insane. I wouldn’t marry him if heâ’
‘Now, now, sweetie, that’s not what you said last night.’ Shiloh smiled at her, his smile not reaching his eyes.
‘Why, you…’ Danni stared at him, stupefied.
‘I’ll leave you to argue it out,’ said her father. ‘I’m going to have a lay down before I fix up the downpipe that’s leaking.’ He walked across the hall to his own bedroom, went inside and closed the door firmly behind him.
Danni knew he couldn’t bear to look at them and her heart constricted painfully. The restraint behind that quiet click of the door catch had her turning on Shiloh.
He was standing against the bar, his foot on the rung of a bar stool, absently rubbing his leg.
She felt not a skerrick of sympathy for him at that moment. ‘If you had any common decency at all you’d try to put things right with my father.’ She fought to keep her voice low. ‘But of course you haven’t, have you?’ She gave him a disdainful look and went to go after her father.
Shiloh’s voice stopped her. ‘Leave him be for a moment, Danni. He needs breathing space.’ He smiled crookedly at her. ‘How about breakfast? Or am I to be chief cook and bottle washer this morning?’
‘Breakfast? Oh, I couldâ’ She stamped her foot in frustration. ‘You can get your own breakfast. In fact, you can starve for all I care. I’m going to take a shower and get dressed for work.’ She headed across to the bedroom, turning determinedly away from their indentations in the bed. ‘And you can stop with all this marriage fiasco, because it’s not on. Things are bad enough as they are. No thanks to you!’
Twenty minutes later, dressed and ready for her morning at the library, Danni hurried into the kitchen to make herself a quick piece of toast. She stopped in the kitchen doorway. Her place had been set neatly at the table and Shiloh turned from the stove with a plate on which rested a fluffy appetising omelette.
She sat down and looked at him. He wore a tea towel tucked around his waist and when he’d set her plate in front of her he turned to pour her a cup of tea.
‘Don’t think I’m going to make a habit of this,’ he said easily. ‘I’ll expect you to wait on me hand and foot when we’re married.’
‘We are not getting married,’ Danni said flatly. Their eyes met and duelled, and hers were the first to fall.
She sighed and, realising how hungry she was, began to eat. Anything so that she wouldn’t have to look into those cold cat’s eyes. How could she ever have thought them warm and gentle? The omelette was delicious, and as she had barely had any dinner the evening before owing to her nervousness, she made short work of it.
Shiloh sat down opposite her, sipping his own tea. ‘Aren’t you having anything to eat?’ she asked him ungraciously.
‘This cup of tea will do for the present,’ he said evenly.
‘You know, you should eat properly or you’ll never regain your strength,’ she told him, trying to make easy conversation, wondering why she was bothering.
‘Do I detect a note of concern?’ he raised one cynical eyebrow.
Danni ignored that. ‘You know you shouldn’t joke about marriage. I just might call your bluff and
accept your proposal.’ She attempted a light laugh.
‘I mean to marry you, Danni,’ he said quietly, and her eyes flew to his face.
She wasn’t reassured by the determination in the steady coolness of his expression.
‘I’d better go and see how Pop is.’ She stood up. ‘If you leave the dishes I’ll wash them when I come home.’
‘Leave your father to me. I’ll talk to him before I leave,’ he said.
Danni made no comment but marched along the hallway and tapped on her father’s door.’ Pop, are you all right?’
The door opened and her father stood looking at both of them. ‘I could do with a cuppa.’
‘Shiloh’s just made a pot so it will be nicely brewed for you. I have to go to work now. Iâ Will you be here at lunch time?’
He sighed. ‘I’ll be here, love,’ he said, and opened his arms to her.
Danni flew into them and buried her face in her father’s chest. ‘Pop, I’m sorry!’
‘I know, love. I didn’t realise my little girl had grown into a woman, and it was quite a blow.’ His eyes were still cold as they rested on Shiloh. ‘But there’ll be no more talk about marriage.’
‘Pop, I’mâ’ she began.
‘You’ll be late, Danni,’ Shiloh’s voice came from the doorway.
She gave him a withering look. ‘I’ll see you later, Pop. And please don’t worry.’ She planted a kiss on his weathered cheek and went to walk coolly past Shiloh, but his arm came around her waist.
‘Goodbye!’ she said with feeling.
‘I’ll have to shift my car to let you out,’ he said, planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek.
And when she returned after her half-day at work she was surprised to find Shiloh and her father in the middle of repairing the broken downpipe. Without a word to them she went inside to prepare lunch. With her new plan spinning around in her mind she wanted a moment alone to mull it over.
She had spent the morning in something of a daze. Fortunately the library had not been busy and she had had plenty of time to think over the happenings of the previous night. Her cheeks burned every time she thought about spending the entire night in Shiloh’s arms.
That Shiloh O’Rourke found her desirable she had no doubt, but as to marrying him, well, it was ludicrous. She’d rather marry Dallas Byrne! A comparison between the two men came unbidden to her mind, her response to Dallas compared to her response to Shiloh’s shattering kisses, and she had the distinct feeling that she was kidding herself.
For the whole of the morning her mind spun about like a whirling dervish. She went from sensations of pure sensual delight at Shiloh’s caresses to a burning horror that everyone, even her own father, believed him to be little better than a murderer. And she had allowed him toâ Her own duplicity revolted her.
It was almost closing time when the fact that she knew so little about Shiloh O’Rourke was brought home to Danni again. She was tidying the library, clearing piles of books from the tables, straightening the newspapers and returning them to the newspaper racks. She picked up the Sydney paper and went to fold it neatly. The photo of Shiloh leapt out of the pulpy sheet and seemed to strike her between the eyes. She sank weakly on to a chair. Even the bad reproduction couldn’t disguise the fact that it was him, or detract from his attractiveness, and Danni swallowed convulsively.
It was featured in the social section and Shiloh sat beside a rather flashy blond. Danni unfolded the paper so that she could read the caption beneath the photo: Snapped while dining at the Summit this week were the obviously fully recovered racing driver Shiloh O’Rourke and an old friend, the stunning Mrs Chris Damien. O’Rourke was severely injured in a pile-up of Formula 5000s at Sandown last year. We hear he may be taking to the track again soon, this time as part of the Chris Damien Racing Team. Mrs Damien is the former Mo
del of the Year, Marla Warren.
Danni stared at the words until they distorted beneath her gaze. How could Chris Damien even think of letting Shiloh drive for him? He had tried to replace Rick, she knew, but he hadn’t taken anyone on to date. So why did it have to be Shiloh who now took Rick’s place?
A futile anger clutched at her, anger for Rick, and another less easily defined emotion, anger mixed with a totally new sensation, and in those first moments as she had stared transfixed at the photograph of Shiloh and the blond girl she had known a burning jealousy. She grimaced. If Shiloh was so intent on marrying her he had a funny way of showing it. He didn’t look like a man who wasn’t enjoying himself. Her eyes went once again to the photograph, settling on Shiloh’s attentive expression.
Maybe he had talked Chris Damien around through his wife. Hadn’t Dallas said Shiloh had been involved with a model before the accident? The pieces fitted together too well. God, he was despicable! Her heart felt bruised and pain-filled and she bit back a rush of tears.
To think he had the audacity to ask herâ no, to tell her she was marrying him! How could she possibly marry a man whose recklessness had led to her brother’s death? And now he was stepping into Rick’s place with Chris Damien.
Slowly Danni replaced the newspaper tidily over the stand and walked back to the desk. There should be more retribution here on earth. She had a burning desire to make him pay for his part in that crash. And so he deserved to pay, she told herself.
It was then that a plan began to form in her mind. It was all so simple. Shiloh desired her, wanted her. He had admitted as much. Hadn’t he said just that this morning? She pushed memories of her own responses to the back of her mind. How would he feel if he married her and then discovered how much she hated him?
Yes, she’d marry him. For whatever reason he wanted her for his wife. And then, after the wedding, she’d take her revenge. He would be bound to a wife who spurned him, despised him. She quivered with excitement, and just a faint touch of apprehension. She’d hold him to that proposal, call his bluff. Oh, revenge would be so sweet!
Race For Revenge (Lynsey Stevens Romance) Page 9