The Temptation Trap

by Catherine George

  ‘Did you look in the bedroom?’

  ‘From the doorway, yes. I saw Rose.’

  Ewen nodded. ‘She’s always lived here. Which is why I wouldn’t let you have the photograph.’

  ‘Did you come here much when your uncle was alive?’ Rosanna asked as they left the house.

  ‘As often as he’d put up with me. I’ve always loved the place. The old boy did most of the gardening himself in those days. I was expected to help. And wash up and make my bed and keep myself scrubbed as well. No slovenliness for the Brigadier.’

  Rosanna smiled. ‘My grandmother was the same. She always faced the day fully made up, and hair perfect.’

  Ewen glanced at her as they strolled along the quiet road in the hot noon sunshine. ‘He never stopped loving her. Do you think she felt the same?’

  ‘Of course she did,’ said Rosanna without hesitation. ‘Otherwise why tell me the gold rose was her most treasured possession? Besides,’ she added, ‘my mother’s name is Henrietta.’

  Ewen stopped dead, looking at her. ‘She named her only child after him?’

  ‘I didn’t realise that until I found out about Harry. But it’s obvious, now. My grandfather never knew Rose had met someone else, so he wouldn’t have attached any significance to the name,’ she added as they resumed walking.

  The Rose and Crown was a picturesque place, and already half full. They found a small table in a corner near a window, and drank half pints of shandy, and ate vast slices of grilled ham with tomatoes and mushrooms, and in Ewen’s case two fried eggs.

  ‘Two eggs,’ said Rosanna, laughing.

  ‘Why not?’ he said, unmoved. ‘I’ll run an extra mile or two tomorrow.’

  ‘On a day like this we should be eating nice healthy salads,’ she said, munching ecstatically. ‘Not that this isn’t wonderful.’

  ‘You can have salad for supper.’

  So she was staying for supper, thought Rosanna.

  ‘How would you like to spend the afternoon?’ asked Ewen.

  ‘Just sitting in your heavenly back garden.’

  ‘You could do some hoeing if you like,’ he offered with a grin.

  ‘No way!’ Rosanna smiled cajolingly. ‘I hoped you’d take that wicker chaise out on the lawn for me. I’d like to get some sun.’

  Ewen resumed his lunch. ‘Good idea. I’ll join you.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE small garden was completely secluded behind its neatly clipped hedges, with only the rustling of the leaves in a pair of apple trees to break the silence. It was an idyllic way to spend a hot Saturday afternoon, thought Rosanna.

  ‘Why the sigh?’ asked Ewen.

  ‘I was just thinking how perfect your life is,’ she told him bluntly.

  He frowned. ‘Perfect?’

  She nodded ‘Everything seems to fall in your lap. You write bestsellers, own two houses, the Morgan—’

  ‘Hey! Hold on.’ He held up a hand. ‘It’s one bestseller, and two previous, reasonably successful books written while I was working full-time as a journalist. And working damned hard, too. And not so long ago my London home was a humdrum flat in Wandsworth. I moved into the Chelsea house only recently.’ Ewen paused, slanting a look at her. ‘My life’s not entirely perfect, Rosanna. I live in both places alone.’

  ‘Only by choice,’ she retorted.

  ‘True,’ he conceded. ‘The brief experiment with Nicola taught me a salutary lesson.’

  To her intense annoyance Rosanna felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Ewen sharing his life with Nicola, or any other woman. ‘Did she like this place?’ she asked.

  ‘I never brought her here,’ he said shortly. ‘The only one I share the cottage with is Rose.’

  Rosanna nodded resignedly. ‘As I’ve said before, Ewen Fraser, you’re in love with a ghost.’

  ‘More convenient that way,’ he said blandly. ‘She doesn’t object when I work far into the night, or feel too tired to go out on the town.’

  With an effort Rosanna managed to hold her tongue rather than disrupt the afternoon with an argument.

  After a while Ewen got up. ‘You just lie there and soak up the sun. I’ve got a few telephone calls to make.’

  Rosanna settled down obediently, only too glad to do as he said, and woke from a sound sleep later to find Ewen tickling her nose with a blade of grass.

  ‘I was afraid you’d burn,’ he said, smiling.

  Rosanna sat up, pushing her hair back, her face warm from more than the sun. ‘Have I been asleep long? What time is it?’

  ‘Just after six, Tea, or a drink?’

  ‘Drink, please. Something long, cold and non-alcoholic.’ Rosanna yawned, then pulled a face. ‘Sorry to be so rude. I gave up afternoon naps when I was a baby.’

  ‘The slave-driver you work for has obviously worn you out!’

  ‘That must be it,’ she agreed lightly, and got up. ‘I need some repairs.’

  ‘I’ll have your drink waiting when you come down.’

  When Rosanna’s hair was brushed and her face touched up a little she heard voices and went back downstairs to find a pretty, fair-haired teenager talking to Ewen in the kitchen. The girl wore skin-tight jeans and a clinging knit top, and she was smiling up at Ewen with a starry look in her heavily painted eyes.

  ‘Ah, Rosanna,’ he said quickly, and came towards her, putting an arm round her waist. ‘Meet Sally Todd. She keeps the place tidy for me.’

  ‘Hello, Sally, I’m Rosanna Carey. Nice to meet you.’ She kept her face straight with effort as Ewen’s arm tightened possessively.

  The girl was openly taken aback at the sight of Rosanna. After a moment she forced a smile. ‘Hello— sorry, but you’re just like—’

  ‘The photograph upstairs,’ said Rosanna resignedly.

  The girl nodded her mop of tousled blonde curls. ‘I’m ever so fond of it. I dust it when I come in to clean. You’re the image of the lady.’

  ‘Miss Carey’s her granddaughter,’ explained Ewen.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Sally lost interest. ‘My mum thought you’d like a cake for your tea, Mr Fraser, and Dad sent the tomatoes from our greenhouse. He said to take what vegetables you want when you go back. I didn’t know you had visitors,’ said the girl awkwardly. ‘I’d better be going, then.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, Sally. And thank your mother and father for me,’ said Ewen, releasing Rosanna to see the girl out.

  ‘Goodbye, Sally,’ said Rosanna warmly.

  When Ewen rejoined her she wagged a finger at him. ‘So that’s why you brought me down here today—as your cover again,’ she accused, laughing. ‘Are you always in such constant danger from my sex, Ewen Fraser?’

  ‘Of course not!’ he said, grinning reluctantly. ‘But I’m damned glad you were here. Sally usually cleans the place on a Saturday, so I rang her father to tell her not to bother this week. But she came bearing gifts instead.’

  Rosanna shook her head at him. ‘Take my advice, Ewen Fraser. Tread carefully with that pretty little gift horse. Sally’s got an outsize crush on you.’

  ‘I’d have to be blind not to notice it,’ he said ruefully. ‘That’s why I put on the possessive act when you appeared.’

  ‘Very effective it was, too. It damped poor Sally down like a cold shower. And my famed likeness to Rose up there added the finishing touch. It’s probably put her off you completely.’

  ‘Pity,’ said Ewen, investigating the contents of the tin. ‘Lusting maidens work wonders for the male ego. Though it’s a shame she doesn’t do something with that hair, poor kid.’

  ‘You poor, unsuspecting male!’ Rosanna hooted with laughter. ‘It took her hours to get it like that.’

  ‘You’re not serious?’ He grinned. ‘Come on. I suggest we drink this in the conservatory. The insect population will be out in full force in the garden by this time.’

  Rosanna was halfway through her tall glass of grape juice when the truth suddenly made its presence felt. There was no blinding flash of
revelation. Just a sudden removal of the blinkers she’d fought so hard to keep in place. For years she’d had tunnel vision about men, never diverted from her love for David, which was a safe, solid emotion she was very comfortable with. But there was no use trying to kid herself any longer. She was in love with Ewen Fraser, a dangerous, physical fire of an emotion ready at any time to blaze out of control. She stole a look at his face as she came to terms with the truth, then turned her eyes back to the garden. Fire, she reminded herself, soon died out without fuel to feed on. And this fire would have to. She would make it die.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ said Ewen eventually. He sat with his back to the light, his face hidden in the lengthening shadows.

  ‘I was savouring the peace before going back to the city.’

  ‘Let’s wait until it’s dark and a lot cooler than this before we do. Don’t worry,’ he added. ‘I’ll put the hood up.’

  After Rosanna’s moment of self-revelation in the conservatory her first reaction was to leave precipitately, to make some excuse and ask Ewen to drive her home at once. But this would never happen again, she argued with herself. And it was a bittersweet experience to help Ewen with their simple meal, then share it with him at the round table in his tiny dining room. They talked easily together, with no hint of the recent hostility between them, but Rosanna ate very little, blaming her mammoth lunch for her lack of appetite, and Ewen ate very little more than she did. For the same reason, he told her.

  As they talked their eyes met constantly and slid away, the electricity in the air between them mounting as the light faded, and the candles flickered now and then in the slight, scented breeze which drifted through the open windows.

  ‘You like my country cottage, then?’ asked Ewen huskily.

  Rosanna sighed. ‘It’s lovely. I envy you.’ She sought for something unemotional to say. ‘Are you going to furnish the spare room upstairs as another bedroom some time?’

  He shook his head, smiling crookedly. ‘Didn’t you wonder a little, at the time, how I managed to get a second computer installed in the mews house so rapidly?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, I see—it was here! On that desk upstairs. You had it sent up.’

  ‘Bob Todd brought it in his van.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Normally I do most of my writing down here. I bought a computer for the Chelsea house only recently.’

  ‘Then what made you start working on your book in London instead?’

  Ewen’s eyes, gold-flecked and gleaming in the candlelight, locked with hers. ‘Can’t you think of a reason, Rosanna?’

  She could, but it was so far-fetched she hadn’t the nerve to put it into words. ‘You needed to be more handy for your editor, or for more research material?’

  ‘No. I was determined to persuade you to work with me.’

  Rosanna’s eyes narrowed. ‘And at the same time provide you with a living, breathing incarnation of Rose Norman right before your eyes. A novel way of doing research,’ she said without inflection.

  He shook his head. ‘It was nothing to do with research. Or Rose. Only you. I made that plain, right from the beginning, Rosanna. I even wrote to you on the subject.’

  ‘So you did,’ she murmured, heat rising in her cheeks.

  ‘But you faxed me, telling me to stop.’ His mouth twisted. ‘A very effective way of dampening my ardour.’

  ‘It was meant to be.’

  They looked at each other in silence in the shadowy room.

  ‘This was a mistake today,’ she said at last, and he nodded slowly.

  ‘I know. But you looked so tired and pale and unhappy last night. I’d meant to keep this place a secret. I never had any intention of bringing you here.’ He smiled wryly. ‘One ghost is enough for any man.’

  ‘I’m not a ghost, Ewen.’

  ‘You’ll haunt the place just the same.’ He jerked his head towards the garden. ‘Out there in the sun, in here sharing a meal. Just being here. Dammit, Rosanna, you know I want you. Since that night in the lift I’ve fought like hell to keep my distance. The morning after I was all set to give you your marching orders. Tell you I could only take so much. But my hangover got in the way. And by the time I was over it there you were, working away at the computer, and it was too late.’

  She let out a deep, shaky breath. ‘I nearly didn’t come that day. I dreaded facing you again, after the way I behaved—’

  ‘The way you behaved!’ He stared at her blankly. ‘I was the one who took advantage of the situation, Rosanna.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. I was equally to blame.’ Her eyes fell. ‘I really am claustrophobic, but once you started making love to me I forgot all about it. It was a revelation. I never dreamed…’

  The candles guttered and went out, but neither of them moved. They both sat motionless in the semi-darkness, her words hanging in the air between them. At last Ewen got slowly to his feet, came round the table, and drew her up into his arms. He held her in a loose embrace, his cheek on her hair, and she leaned against him, unresisting.

  ‘It’s time I drove you home,’ he whispered, and she nodded, and Ewen sighed heavily and put her away from him a little, his smile more crooked than ever as he linked his hands at the back of her waist. ‘No storm tonight.’

  I wish there were, she thought, then caught his eye and knew he’d read her mind.

  ‘Would you stay if there were?’ he asked.

  Rosanna considered lying, but decided against it. ‘I would want to,’ she said honestly, and he pulled her close, rubbing his cheek against hers.

  ‘Why did you come today?’

  ‘Because I wanted to. But I didn’t know you were going to bring me to a place like this.’ Suddenly her eyes brimmed over, and she buried her face in his shirt. ‘I wish you hadn’t!’

  He turned her face up to his with an inexorable finger. ‘But you told me you wanted to live in the country one day. Has this place changed your mind?’

  ‘No. Quite the reverse. I didn’t tell you the rest, how I wanted a cottage and a garden, with children and dogs. Pretty funny, isn’t it? The closest I’ll get to children for years is teaching them.’ She sniffed inelegantly, and knuckled her tears away. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to cry all over you, Ewen. Time we went back to the real world.’

  His eyes glittered with a look which made her heart pound, but instead of kissing her he mopped her face prosaically with her napkin. ‘I suppose you’re right, Rosanna Carey. Back to the big city, then.’

  ‘First we tidy up.’ Rosanna gave him a determined smile, and began clearing away the remains of the meal as he switched on some of the lamps. ‘What shall I do with the wine? Neither of us drank much.’

  ‘Throw it away. And the leftovers. But I’d better take the tomatoes and the cake back with me. I’d hate to offend the family Todd.’

  They worked rapidly together, but in her haste to finish washing up Rosanna grasped the razor-sharp paring knife by the blade. ‘Oops,’ she said faintly. ‘I’ve cut myself.’

  Ewen turned on the cold tap and held her hand under it. ‘It looks deep,’ he said, frowning. ‘I hope I’ve got some plasters somewhere— Rosanna!’ He seized her in his arms as she began to crumple.

  Ewen carried her to the sofa, and she swung her feet to the ground and put her head between her knees while he searched for some plasters. He came back with one and some antiseptic, and knelt beside her to dress the cut.

  ‘I forgot to mention,’ she croaked, ‘that I’m not only claustrophobic, I can’t stand the sight of blood.’

  ‘Some doctor’s wife you’re going to be!’ he said grimly, wiping the perspiration from her forehead. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘I’m always fine once the blood’s gone.’ She sat up with care. ‘See? Good as new.’

  ‘You’re a bit pale.’

  ‘So are you.’

  They eyed each other in a silence which grew so prolonged she smiled shakily at last, then felt her heart leap as
Ewen’s eyes blazed with such molten heat that her blood thundered in her veins in response; then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her with a starving desperation she responded to in kind, all her shaky defences knocked flat.

  ‘I wasn’t going to do this,’ he panted against her mouth.

  ‘I know,’ she gasped, and pulled him closer, her lips parting in such open invitation, Ewen’s scruples were routed.

  They fell full-length together on the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing wildly as though their lives depended on the contact of mouth and hands and bodies that strained together as though neither could exist in separation.

  ‘Stay with me tonight!’ said Ewen hoarsely, and she nodded feverishly, and he brought his mouth down hard on hers. She gasped and clutched him closer, her mouth opening to his tongue as she shook in the throes of a desire so intense she could hardly bear it, glad when Ewen suddenly pulled her to her feet and hurried her towards the stairs. Arms round each other, kissing wildly all the way, their progress upward was so erratic they stumbled, laughing breathlessly, unwilling to separate for even the short distance to the landing. But when they reached his room Ewen whispered, ‘One second,’ went inside, and came back almost at once, to pick her up, carry her into the moonlit room and lay her on his bed.

  ‘No Rose,’ she whispered, smiling luminously as she stretched up her arms.

  Ewen came down to her, holding her close. ‘She was Harry’s girl. The only woman I want is you. Warm, breathing, living Rosanna. And I want you so much I don’t think I can be gentle—’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ROSANNA surrendered herself without reserve, her arousal heightened by the unsteadiness of Ewen’s hands as he undressed her. Then they were naked together at last, with no barriers of clothes, or ghosts from the past. Or from the present. There was nothing in the world other than the sensations coursing through her body as Ewen caressed every part of her into feverish response, until she was breathless and trembling, her hands urgent with caresses of their own. Ewen’s kisses were less frenzied now, slow, deep and hot, like honeyed fire on her mouth and throat, on the breasts which tautened at his touch. Then his head moved lower and his kisses moved to hitherto uncharted territory. The breath cut through her lungs in agonising gasps as his fingers wrought dark magic, and sunbursts of light showered behind her tightly closed eyelids. His kisses slid up her trembling thighs then his mouth was on hers again, and his hands were beneath her hips, and they gave a simultaneous, shuddering sigh as their bodies joined.