The Blackmailed Bride

by Kim Lawrence

  Kate couldn't repress the gurgle of responsive laughter that bubbled up.

  Not a man she'd thought to be easily disconcerted, Javier appeared so now. `You have the most remarkable laugh!' he breathed.

  Their eyes meshed, Kate stopped laughing, his held a searching quality that threw her into total confusion.

  She began to clumsily struggle with her seat belt. Her efforts were futile; her co-ordination seemed to be in an advanced state of decay!

  The engine was almost silent but when Javier switched it off she noticed. Well, she hadn't actually seen him do so, but it seemed safe to assume this had happened; this wasn't the sort of vehicle that conked out or stalled.

  `What's wrong? You know, I think there's something wrong with this seat-belt...' she' observed, tinkering with the clip.

  He brought his hands down with a thud on the steering column. `You are right,' he observed, turning to face her.

  `Now there's something I never expected to hear you say,' she observed drily.

  `We do not give the appearance of two people who have intimate knowledge of each other,' he pronounced flatly.

  Kate's expression brightened. Could it be he was finally seeing that this ridiculous charade was doomed to failure? Once she recognised the flip side to this scenario, her hope­ful expression faded. If he changed his mind about marriage she'd have to hand back the money, and she couldn't do that-not now, when they were already planning how to spend it! Perhaps she'd presented her arguments for the prosecution a little too successfully.

  `You shy away from me when I touch you.'

  Kate's plan had been not to look at him but the magnetic pull of his eyes proved greater than her willpower. `That's because I don't like you touching me. I do not!' she added fiercely, in the face of his glittering scepticism. `But,' she added, taking a deep breath, `I expect I could get used to it.' An occasional hug and a bit of hand-holding was not a big price to pay for what he had given in return.

  `That's extraordinarily generous of you.'

  `The least I can do...'

  `It's traditional for the groom to kiss the bride, Kate...' As he spoke his smoky eyes lingered suggestively on her mouth.

  Kate was ashamed of the small bleating sound that emerged from her lips. `If you're thinking of kissing me...?' she mumbled apprehensively.

  It came as something of a shock to Javier to realise how much he'd been thinking about it, almost since the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. Now, of course, he had a perfectly legitimate reason to do so.

  `There's something...'

  `You should warn me about...?' he suggested helpfully.

  Kate frowned at this frivolous interruption-what was Javier doing being frivolous, anyhow...? `I've forgotten what I was going to say now!'

  `Then don't say anything,' he suggested.

  Kate's nervous system simply closed down as he took her face between his hands and drew her towards him.

  Her eyes half closed as she swayed towards him. This wasn't the body language of rejection and Kate was pain­fully aware of the fact, but she felt curiously unwilling to do anything to correct the false impression she was giving.

  This close to his masculinity was totally overwhelming.

  Breathing in his male scent reminded her of the time she'd downed two glasses of champagne in quick succession at Seb's wedding reception, only this time she was much diz­zier.

  Shock, a knowledgeable voice in her head observed.

  'No..'.!' Kate began, recovering control of her voice but little else.

  She felt the feather-light touch of his fingertips sliding across her jaw and shivered. His burning gaze watched her soft, succulent lips as they parted slightly beneath the gentle pressure of his thumbs.

  If you don't say something he will kiss you, the voice in her head warned-he might even think you want to. He might even be right!

  There eyes met and Kate's insides seemed to melt. His olive skin was pulled taut over his slashing cheekbones and his masterful nose was covered by the faintest sheen of sweat. His warm breath, coming almost as fast as her own, fanned out over her cheek as their noses almost grazed. Kate half closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of his warm male body like an addict.

  'You can tell a lot about a person from the way they kiss,' he explained thickly.

  This didn't sound very scientific to Kate. `A kiss is a kiss,' she protested huskily.

  `Kissing also requires split-second timing,' he contra­dicted confidently.

  `I knew that...' she whispered as he nipped gently at her full lower lip-could that be classified as a kiss? she puz­zled as his fingers began to stroke her throat in light, feath­ery motions.

  `It's extremely risky to let our first kiss be a public one ­at the altar, even.'

  He had a valid point. `I hadn't thought of that.'

  'These things need thinking about.'

  His dark head lowered and her treacherous senses went wild in anticipation. His mouth covered hers, and there was nothing hard or invasive about the pressure as he kissed her gently.

  Anticlimax.

  Kate was dismayed to discover the almost chaste, teasing salute left her feeling cheated.

  `That wasn't too bad,' she admitted hoarsely as his mouth lifted fractionally from hers. She prayed that none of her irrational pique showed in her face.

  They were still so close she could see the individual gold flecks in the drowning sapphire of his eyes. Her breath snagged painfully in her throat as she witnessed his pupils dilating until the drowning blue was almost swallowed up by the inky blackness.

  `A little bit of bad can be quite good,' he promised in a sexy rasp that made goose bumps break out all over her hot skin, just before he reasserted his authority over her mouth.

  This time there was nothing even vaguely chaste about the deep, probing kiss. The erotic stabbing incursions of his tongue made her moan and wind her arms around his neck.

  Later, she would try and convince herself that this had been a calculated-callous, even-attack on her senses, by a man who'd been the centre of female attention since he could smile, but at that moment nothing much mattered but the wave after incredible wave of scalding sensation that washed over her as he sank deeper into the warm recesses of her mouth.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, Kate's fingers were tangled in the dark hair on his nape and she was panting frantically. It was several sweaty seconds before she could prise her eyelids, which felt as though they were weighed down with lead, apart.

  The combustible heat from his blue-eyed gaze, besides making the sensitive muscles of her stomach cramp vi­ciously alerted her to the way her body was pressed closely to his virile torso-second skin wouldn't have been press­ing the point!

  She drew back with a sharp gasp and fell back, her head against the padded restraint as she panted for Britain. She was vaguely aware that his actions had roughly followed the same pattern.

  Almost in unison they turned their heads. Where Kate had expected smugness, perhaps a hint of gloating, she saw a look that on anyone else she'd have described as discon­certed.

  `Good practice session,' she managed, between gasps. 'But quite honestly I don't think you need it.'

  Credit where credit was due. Whatever else Javier Montero was he was a quite spectacularly good kisser this didn't automatically mean he was a spectacular lover too, but the odds were definitely stacked in his favour!

  Not that she was ever likely to put the theory to the test.

  His eyes dropped to her lush lips. `Neither do you.'

  Kate shifted in her seat; perhaps some explanation for her enthusiastic response was called for. Obviously this was what happened when you became a slave to your work and ignored your more basic needs. She could hardly tell him this without making herself sound like a sad, sexually de­prived loser.

  `Well, I think we might be able to muddle through at the ceremony now,' she heard herself claim brightly.

  `I think a modified version might be appropriate
for that occasion.'

  Dots of feverish colour appeared on her smooth cheeks.

  `I think I might be able to restrain myself from ripping off your clothes.' Though it won't be easy, she thought, avert­ing her covetous gaze from his arresting profile. `About the wedding...' she began tentatively.

  `You are nervous?

  'Would that be so surprising?' she charged, resenting his careless attitude. `I've never been married before, and I'm riot as practised at deception as you obviously are. I'd feel slightly more comfortable... if that is the right word,' she mused wryly, `if there weren't too many surprises.'

  `There will be no surprises, just the padre and Sarah and her husband as witnesses.'

  `What's Sarah like?' Kate blushed as the impetuous words escaped, but rather to her surprise he didn't comment on her tasteless display of curiosity.

  `She is gentle and sweet, and not nearly as robust, emo­tionally speaking, as you.'

  Kate was less than flattered to discover that he clearly thought of her as some emotional Amazon.

  She gritted her teeth. `Sensitive qualities can be such a handicap.' Not that he was ever likely to suffer on that count he had the sensitivity of a brick.

  `I have offended you.'

  `Not in the least, we emotionally robust types are by definition pretty tough.'

  `It was not intended as an insult, quite the opposite. You are resourceful and independent; not all women have your confidence and natural resources. Sarah is a...fragile per­son, who is less well equipped than yourself to cope with the demands of modern life.'

  `You mean if you'd accused her of being in cahoots with some sleazy drug-dealer she'd-'

  `There was no way I would have made that mistake...' Javier interposed quickly.

  `I should recognise her straight off, then; she's the one without the natural criminal tendencies I exude.' `There is no need to be facetious.'

  Kate, who thought there was every need, maintained a restrained silence.

  `I met Sarah when my sister was in a drug rehabilitation programme in England; she was a fellow patient being treated for an eating disorder.'

  Kate's cynical expression faded, as did her detachment; despite his opinion she had a soft, vulnerable heart. `Your sister was...`?

  'Addicted to drugs. Yes, she was.' Despite his remote expression, Kate could sense that his sister's dependence had deeply affected him. She took him to be the type of man who shouldered the mantle of responsibility for all those close to him. Kate sighed; his sister's sad history explained away the puzzle of his personal involvement when he had discovered someone was dealing drugs at the hotel.

  `She became friends with Sarah during their stay and late that year my sister invited her to join us on the island.' `And you fell in love with her?'

  He stiffened. `That was something I mentioned in con­fidence...'

  `As if I'm going to blab about it.'

  'I've offended you again.' He seemed intrigued by this discovery.

  `Forget it; it's like water off a duck's back with us emo­tionally robust types. You're not hoping to make this Sarah of yours jealous with me, are you?

  'She is not my Sarah,' he retorted with frigid disap­proval.

  `Fair enough. Your sister, is she all right now...?'

  Javier searched her face and instead of the prurient cu­riosity he'd expected he discovered a genuine concern. `Thank you, yes, she is. She is studying modern history at Oxford.'

  Kate beamed with disingenuous pleasure.

  `That's good. You know,' she told him, reaching across and squeezing his hand lightly, `you shouldn't blame yourself. These thing happen. The important thing is you were there for your sister when she needed you.' Seeing the di­rection of his disconcerted gaze, Kate removed her hand and, blushing deeply, sat on it.

  `How do you know I was there for her?' With an ex­pression she found impossible to interpret, his interest fo­cused on her hot face.

  `Well, I just assumed...' She stopped and gave an ex­asperated sigh-what was the point in beating about the bush? `Well, if you must know,' she informed him frankly, `you come across as the sort of person who would be there...' This admission surprised her as much as it seemed to him. `But then,' she admitted with a wry grin, `I always was a terrible judge of character!'

  There was a short, tense silence before he began to smile the transformation of his grim features was nothing short of miraculous.

  Wow! she thought exhaling gustily as he fired the engine into life. It might not be such a good idea to laugh too often !

  CHAPTER NINE

  'THERE'S very little space to park beside the church,' Javier explained as he slowed the car to let an elderly woman dressed from head to toe in black cross the narrow street. `We'll park the car here and walk up if that's all right with you?

  `Fine,' she replied, surprised to be consulted on the mi­nor detail. Her agreement might not have been quite so swift if she'd realised that the village was literally cut into the side of a mountain.

  Actually, as far as she was concerned there was very little space here too, so little in fact that she held her breath as he reversed the big car with what seemed like impetuous haste to her into the small space between two stone houses. Like most of those in this quaint village, they both had attractive wrought-iron balconies and so many flowers crammed in window boxes that you hardly noticed the peel­ing paintwork.

  `Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea,' Javier observed a few minutes later as he paused once more to let her catch up with him.

  `You should have left me at base camp,' she puffed.

  `There is a step there; be careful...'

  Kate ignored his guiding hand. `It's all right, I can see, I'm wearing my contact lenses. I didn't bring a spare pair of glasses.'

  `You have beautiful eyes.' Kate tripped.

  `It's not that far now.'

  Kate decided it was preferable to shift the blame for her stumble on her footwear than let him suspect that a casual compliment from him could make her fall flat on her face. Balancing on one leg, she extended her ankle towards him. `If you were wearing these you wouldn't say that.'

  `What possessed you to wear anything so impractical for a wedding?'

  `How was I to know marriage meant a two-mile hike?' she asked indignantly. Her frivolous shoes with the pretty jewelled clip and the high spindly heels were ornamental and not suited to climbing mountains, even cobbled ones. `If I'd known, I'd have brought my trainers.'

  `You're going to injure yourself in those things,' he ob­served showing scant appreciation of the delicate footwear. `Perhaps I should carry you.'

  She wasn't small, but she knew his arms were more than capable of coping with the task of carrying her. Her stom­ach flipped over as she thought of those hard, muscular arms; it flipped some more when she thought of them hold­ing her. She ruthlessly smothered the hot flames of excitement before they could take hold.

  Taking control of herself, Kate swallowed past the con­striction in her throat. `I've got a much better idea,' she trilled brightly.

  `Which is...?

  'This,' she said stepping out of the shoes. Always con­scious of his superior height, suddenly slipping down to his shoulder level intensified the dramatic height differential.

  He looked down at narrow feet on the dusty ground. `You can't walk barefoot to your wedding.'

  `Why not?

  'Because it's inappropriate.'

  Kate laughed. `It's a bit late for a man who'd bought a bride to start worrying about convention.'

  His dark brows drew together in a disapproving line. `I haven't bought you!' he denied harshly.

  `No, just a short-term lease; I keep the freehold.'

  `And no doubt you would place a very hefty price on that.'

  Her eyes slewed evasively from his. `No, actually I'd give it away free to the right man.'

  Embarrassed by her own contribution to this strange exchange, Kate bent over abruptly to pick up her shoes, one in each hand,
and ran a little ahead of him. `Don't be such a stick in the mud. Go on, live a little!' she urged as she twirled around and waved the shoes at him.

  A lazy smile appeared on his face as he watched her antics. Their eyes met and his smile faded, leaving a brood­ing, restless expression that made Kate's tummy muscles quiver. There was no knowing how long the silence that grew between them might have lasted, had not a small boy perched on a bicycle that looked way too large for him chosen that moment to race past them at a breakneck speed. Javier had to push Kate to one side to avoid a head-on collision.

  He called out angrily in Spanish after the figure.

  `Are you all right?'

  Kate looked up into his concerned eyes and nodded, very conscious of his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

  `I'm fine, but your lovely suit is covered in dust,' she cried in dismay.

  Javier glanced down at the damage. `No matter,' he said dusting half-heartedly at the sleeve of his jacket.

  Kate clicked her tongue. `Stand still!' she instructed, ex­amining the damage. `It should come off,' she announced.

  `Do not trouble yourself...' He stopped as Kate began to vigorously brush at the powdery layer of dust across his lapel.

  Javier stood a curious smile playing about his lips. `Lovely suit? I thought my clothes were insipid and lacking in individuality?' One dark brow lifted. `Have I got it right`?'

  Kate stopped and grimaced. `Pretty well,' she admitted. `If you must know, it's pretty tiresome being around some­one that looks so damned perfect all the time!'

  Javier looked amazed at the accusation. He looked down at himself. `Well, I am not perfect now. Does that make me a little less tiresome... ?'

  Kate pursed her lips as she considered the matter. `The jury's still out on that one.' Liking him could be a com­plication.

  Javier took a second look at her pink-painted toenails and nodded. `Go barefoot if you must, but I want one thing understood-don't expect me to take off my shoes.'

  Kate grinned. `Don't worry. Taking off your shoes is only for the advanced class. You need to start with loos­ening your tie… just a little.'