Taggart's Woman

by Carole Mortimer

  Daniel’s clothes remained next to hers in the wardrobes and drawers, and she wondered if she should pack them up for him. But she had nowhere she could send them to other than his office, and she doubted he would thank her if she sent them there. No doubt he would let her know what he wanted done with them soon enough.

  When he staggered into the house later that evening, looking totally exhausted, the stubble dark on his chin, his clothes creased, Heather had the shock of her life.

  Unwilling to go to the bed she had so briefly shared with Daniel, she had chosen to sit in the lounge instead, the book she had brought with her still open on the first page. She had felt as if she were in a long, dark tunnel that had no end. But the beginning had assuredly been last night.

  It had taken her several seconds to realise the front door had opened and closed, several more motionless seconds to realise Shilton couldn’t have opened the door because she had told him over an hour ago that he wouldn’t be needed any more tonight. The realisation that it must be Daniel returning came very quickly after that, and with it a trembling nervousness.

  She had half risen from her chair by the time he entered the room, her eyes widening as she took in his appearance.

  He walked straight past her to the array of drinks in the cabinet behind her, swallowing down half a glass of fiery brandy before turning to acknowledge her presence. ‘Don’t tell me my little wife has waited up for me,’ he drawled, drinking the rest of the brandy. ‘How nice!’

  She was used to his insults by now, and it was the fact that he was obviously still wearing—and had been for some time, by their creased appearance—the clothes he had pulled so haphazardly from the wardrobe and drawers the previous night that caused her to continue staring at him. Could he have been as disturbed by last night as she was?

  ‘I must say,’ he drawled softly, ‘I expected you to be a little more vocal than this!’

  Colour darkened her pale cheeks. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she shrugged—and she didn’t! Not without angering him again anyway. Where had he been? Who had he been with?

  His mouth twisted. ‘You could start with, “Is it all over?”, “Are—?”’

  ‘Is it?’ She swallowed hard.

  ‘Obviously,’ he drawled, ‘or I wouldn’t be here now.’

  She frowned. ‘But—’

  ‘Can we leave the questioning until tomorrow, Heather?’ he rasped, his expression grim. ‘It’s been one hell of a day, and I’m damned tired.’

  She was more confused than ever. If their marriage was over, as he had just said it was, what was he doing here? It was obvious he intended staying, for he began unbuttoning his shirt as he strode out of the room.

  Heather almost had to run to keep up with him as he went towards their bedroom. ‘Daniel, what—?’

  ‘Is there anything to eat in the kitchen?’ he frowned, throwing off his shirt. ‘Or do you only know how to eat food and not how to cook it?’

  She came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the bedroom that had seemed like a place of torture since he left it so abruptly the night before. ‘I’ll gladly get you something to eat,’ she told him in a controlled voice, ‘if you’ll just tell me what’s going on!’

  Unabashed by her presence, Daniel removed his trousers, and his brief black underpants quickly followed his shirt on to the chair. ‘There was no bomb, not here in London, not in Manchester, not in any of the planes. I know, because I was with the police when they searched every damned one of them,’ he added grimly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I need a shower.’

  Heather stared at him as if she had never seen him before. ‘You mean, they thought there was a bomb in one of our buildings?’ She clutched at his arm.

  Grey eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know—’

  ‘But I didn’t,’ she gasped, very pale. ‘How could I?’

  ‘You haven’t seen the television, listened to the radio?’ Daniel frowned his disbelief.

  ‘No, I—I haven’t felt like doing anything since—since you left,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘And all the staff have been tiptoeing around me all day; I thought it was because they pitied me, because my husband of one day had walked out on me.’ Her eyes were wide. ‘Daniel, what happened?’ she squeaked.

  He scowled. ‘We received a call that there was a bomb on Air International property. No other details, just that.’

  ‘I had no idea…’ Heather was shaking badly. While she had been mooning about feeling sorry for herself…! ‘There was no bomb, you said?’ She blinked, the enormity of the situation sweeping over her.

  ‘Can all this wait, Heather?’ he snapped impatiently. ‘I’ve been running around like a madman all day, and I’m tired and hungry.’

  There were so many things she still wanted to know, so many questions to ask, and yet she knew that when Daniel was feeling so weary and in need of food it wasn’t the time. ‘Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll have a meal waiting for you in the kitchen.’

  But only half-way through that fifteen minutes some of her concern had turned to anger, and by the time the steaming hot meal of steak and baked potato was on the breakfast-bar waiting for Daniel, she was absolutely furious. She was a partner in Air International, she should have been informed along with Daniel of the bomb threat, should have been at his side during the ordeal. Instead of which he was treating her like a clinging wife who was being too curious about things that didn’t concern her!

  The mildness of her expression told him nothing of her mood when he joined her a few minutes later, as she served him a salad to go with his steak and potato, then sat down beside him, although her own meal remained untouched. She had mistakenly thought, when she began cooking, that with Daniel’s return she had found her own appetite. She was too angry to eat!

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ Daniel drawled after finishing his first tender mouthful of the steak.

  ‘Oh?’ she prompted stiffly. He owed her more than an apology, damn him!

  He nodded. ‘You can cook,’ he taunted. ‘This steak is delicious.’

  Heather drew in a ragged breath. ‘I’m so glad it meets with your approval,’ she returned with saccharine sweetness.

  ‘It does,’ he declared, taking another healthy mouthful, of potato this time, obviously savouring its fluffy perfection.

  ‘Tell me,’ she prompted, her voice deceptively soft, ‘did my uncle know about this bomb scare?’

  ‘Of course,’ Daniel dismissed impatiently. ‘I informed him as soon as the police had contacted me. You aren’t eating.’ He suddenly seemed to realise the food on her plate had remained untouched.

  ‘I’ve decided I’m not hungry, after all,’ she answered coldly. ‘Did the senior executives at Air International know about it, too?’

  ‘They were notified just in case we found anything,’ he nodded. ‘We had a little trouble locating Wingate, by the way,’ he added tauntingly. ‘But I finally remembered how softhearted Penny is, and the fact that Wingate was completely stoned when he left last night. He was sleeping on Penny’s sofa, where she could keep an eye on him,’ Daniel derided. ‘Do you mind if I…?’ His fork hovered over her rapidly cooling steak. ‘As you aren’t hungry.’

  ‘No, take it,’ she said impatiently. ‘And just for the record, Phillip could have been asleep on Penny for all his whereabouts last night concern me!’

  ‘Naughty, naughty,’ Daniel taunted. ‘I don’t think he was capable of being with any woman in that way last night. Well… perhaps one woman I can think of!’ He smiled at the private memory.

  ‘He could have had a dozen women in his bed and it wouldn’t have bothered me.’ She angrily clarified the fact that she didn’t care where—or with whom—Phillip slept.

  ‘It might have bothered them,’ Daniel mocked. ‘Do we have any wine to go with this?’ He was looking much more refreshed after partially eating the meal.

  As several bottles stood at room temperature in the wine rack across the kitchen he had to know they did
!

  Heather’s movements were quick and economical as she opened the bottle and poured some of the ruby-red wine into a glass for him.

  He sipped it appreciatively, his eyes mocking over the glass rim. ‘Something else they taught you at your expensive finishing school?’ he taunted. ‘Just in case the man is incapacitated and you need a drink desperately?’

  Her mouth tightened. ‘Something like that,’ she bit out. ‘When did you receive the call about the bomb scare, Daniel?’ she persisted.

  He gave it some thought. ‘I was sitting in the lounge going over some papers—you might remember it was a little too hot in bed last night?’ he challenged softly.

  Her cheeks burnt. ‘It cooled very quickly,’ she muttered, eyes narrowed.

  ‘Hm,’ he derided. ‘It must have been about two o’clock when I received the call. Apparently, the police thought it might have been a hoax, but they have to check these things out none the less. I was more than willing to let them!’

  ‘So you took the call here?’ she encouraged softly.

  ‘I told you—’

  ‘That’s the trouble, Daniel,’ she interrupted furiously. ‘You didn’t tell me anything!’

  The amusement at her expense faded from his eyes. ‘You were asleep—’

  ‘I wasn’t! How could I be expected to sleep when my husband walked out on me in that way?’ Her eyes flashed.

  ‘Now, look—’

  ‘No, you look, Daniel,’ snapped Heather, glaring at him. ‘You told my uncle, your senior executives, the media were obviously informed, and the staff here obviously knew about it too, but you didn’t think to tell me, your partner.’ She was breathing hard in her agitation. ‘I had a right to know what was going on!’

  ‘There was nothing you could have done—’

  ‘I had a right to know!’ Her voice rose with her anger.

  ‘Why?’ His eyes were glacial. ‘Because you have your name on a piece of paper that says you own half of my airline?’ His eyes blazed, his knife and fork were clenched tightly in his hands. ‘It takes a damn sight more than that to make you my partner.’

  ‘It was my father’s airline—’

  ‘It’s mine,’ Daniel rasped harshly. ‘I worked twenty hours a day, seven days a week to get that airline back on its feet, and no spoilt little brat with her name on a piece of paper is going to take it away from me!’

  He was furiously angry, but her fury matched his. ‘I’m your partner, damn it, whether you like it or not, and you’ll treat me as such!’

  ‘Will I?’

  ‘Yes!’

  Daniel went suddenly still, gently placing his knife and fork down on the almost empty plate in front of him. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  Heather made an effort to still the trembling his quiet fury evoked. ‘If that’s what it takes, yes.’ She held her head high.

  His brows arched as he looked her over very carefully in her black corduroys and loose white blouse, his gaze not missing the trembling of her hands, she felt sure. ‘You know something?’ he suddenly said softly. ‘I don’t think this is about today at all.’

  ‘Of course it—’

  ‘No,’ he cut in sharply. ‘For the last six months you’ve been perfectly happy to let me deal with any and every problem we’ve had at AI.’ His eyes were narrowed.

  ‘This wasn’t just a problem—’

  ‘You know what I think your problem is?’ he challenged softly.

  ‘I’m sure you’re about to tell me,’ Heather snapped, also sure she wasn’t going to like what he said. ‘You—Daniel, what do you think you’re doing?’ she gasped as his hand moved to clasp her arm.

  ‘Your problem,’ he grated as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘is that you’re furious with me because of last night.’ He stood up, walking out of the kitchen, pulling her along behind him.

  Her anger faded, to be replaced by apprehension. ‘Daniel, what do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded again.

  ‘I would have thought it was obvious,’ he drawled drily.

  ‘Stop this!’ she ordered shakily as he tugged her into the bedroom and firmly closed the door behind them.

  ‘Oh no, my little shrew of a wife.’ He deftly began to unbutton her blouse. ‘I’m going to finish what we started last night—and maybe then you’ll stop yelling at me like a fishwife!’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HEATHER trembled at the unmistakable intent in Daniel’s set expression.

  ‘Frustration can be hell, can’t it?’ he mocked as he threw off her blouse and started on her camisole.

  This couldn’t be happening to her. He couldn’t mean to make love to her now! But no, she realised as she saw the coldness of his eyes, he didn’t intend to make love with her at all, just to satisfy a physical need that was as strong for him now as it had been for her last night.

  ‘Daniel, you can’t!’ she cried, pushing ineffectually at his hands.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind about that.’ He misunderstood the reason for her protest. ‘After the day I’ve just had, a couple of hours’ oblivion in your eager arms is exactly what I need!’

  He was looking at her as if she were some beautiful object he intended lavishing his attention on for a while! ‘Daniel, I’m not eager—’

  ‘Of course you are,’ he contradicted distractedly, smoothing the camisole down her arms, his gaze feasting on her bared breasts.

  ‘Daniel, I—Ooh!’ She gave an aching gasp as his thumb-tip grazed her thrusting nipples. ‘Daniel, please—’ She broke off and involuntarily her hands moved up, her fingers clasping his hair as she held him against her, her back arched invitingly.

  At last he raised his head, her nipple pouting moistly. ‘You were saying?’ he prompted raggedly.

  The respite from the fiery heat of his mouth gave her the strength to tell him the truth she had been afraid to reveal last night. ‘Daniel, please don’t hurt me,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m a virgin—’

  ‘Don’t take me for a fool, Heather,’ he scorned savagely. ‘Play the innocent if that’s what you want to do, but don’t lie to me.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ he derided, stripping off her remaining clothes. ‘It’s an act I’ll certainly enjoy more than I did almost being raped last night.’ He looked grim. ‘Tonight we’ll do whatever it takes,’ he promised.

  His savagery was barely restrained by the forced gentleness of the ‘game’ but, in the circumstances, Heather knew she couldn’t ask for more after the way she had been behaving lately. It was because of that deception, and the pain it had caused her, that she had known she couldn’t go on lying to him any more. It was enough, for her, that she had told him the truth at last, that he chose to disbelieve her was his privilege.

  His naked body was as magnificent as she remembered it, his chest crushing the sensitivity of her breasts as his mouth claimed hers, the pressure of his lips easing a little as she whimpered her torment.

  His hands caressed her hips as he held her against him, moving against her, moaning his pleasure at the contact, his tongue probing her lips to dip into her mouth in the same erotic rhythm.

  Her nails dug into his back as the warm sensation washed over her, feeling the moist-ness between her thighs, instantly wanting him.

  If this quicksilver reaction to him made her a wanton, then a wanton she must be, because she felt weak with wanting him!

  ‘Sweet, so damned sweet,’ Daniel groaned. ‘You taste of honey. And I’ve always been addicted to honey,’ he moaned, before going back for more of the delectable nectar.

  As the pleasure became almost too much to bear Heather longed to touch him in return, to learn the hard contours of his body, and yet fear of rejection and remembered scorn held her back, her body on fire and about to be consumed in the flames.

  Daniel moved against her restlessly, velvet encasing hard pleasure, his body curved into hers.

  ‘I can’t stand it any more!’ she choked finally. ‘D
aniel, let me touch you!’

  He slowly raised his head to look at her, frowning as he saw the fevered longing in her over-bright eyes.

  ‘I need to touch you,’ she sobbed without defence.

  ‘God, woman, you didn’t have to—’ He shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I didn’t mean I never wanted you to touch me,’ he groaned, as he realised last night’s rejection was the reason for her reluctance. ‘Here,’ he took her hand and guided it to him, drawing in a sharp breath as the soft caress of her hand closed about him. ‘Don’t ever stop!’ he moaned as he fell back against the bed, taking her with him, capturing her breast between his teeth as she bent over him.

  She was inexperienced, an innocent, and yet she knew instinctively the rhythm to drive Daniel wild, hesitating only as he thrashed wildly beneath her.

  His lids flew wide, his eyes silver-grey. ‘For God’s sake, don’t stop!’ he choked fiercely.

  Their kisses were wild, their caresses wilder, totally out of control, and yet, even through the sensual haze, Heather was aware enough to tense as Daniel probed the moisture between her thighs, although she welcomed the pain that was to come if it meant she had the pleasure of belonging to him completely, sure that once that barrier had been breached they would know the ultimate pleasure together.

  He was demanding entry to a door that had never been opened, his hips thrusting forward as his hands beneath her buttocks pulled her up on to him. The tearing pain left her open to accommodate him and, as she had instinctively known, he surged inside to fill her completely.

  He lay still above her, breathing raggedly. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she assured him quickly.

  He trailed kisses down her cheek and throat until he reached the dusky-rose nipple that pleaded for his lips and tongue. ‘Lift yourself into me,’ he groaned in a husky plea.