That evening, when Rick announced they would go down for dinner, Emma was glad she had included in her purchases a white silk dress. It was plain and youthfully discreet; there was nothing about it, she was sure, to make another woman green with envy. If Blanche were to see her in it, it would never arouse her animosity. Her sense of caution driving her one step farther, Emma screwed her hair tightly at the nape of her neck and used very little make-up. The results of all this effort was satisfying. While her hair might still gleam like pale, newly minted gold, the dragged-back style did nothing for her and her figure was, as yet, too thin to arouse a man's desire, to make anyone look twice. Or so she thought.
'Is that the best that damned shop could do?' Rick enquired sarcastically, eyeing Emma's scarcely impressive appearance with marked disfavour. 'God knows I'll be expected to pay through the nose for it.'
Innocently Emma nodded, saying nothing about the more décolleté models which required slight alterations but which she had been promised would be sent around to the hotel in the morning. 'You must let me graduate slowly, Rick. I'm not used to this kind of thing.'
'Yet you do have a kind of instinct for it, I've noticed,' he rejoined dryly, confirming her earlier suspicions. 'But then dangle a slice of the high life in front of any woman and most of them can't grab it quick enough—and take to it in the manner born.'
'Speaking from personal experience, I suppose,' she couldn't help retorting sharply, wondering unhappily just how many women he had spent that kind of money on? It wasn't the money so much as the implications of such transactions. It was something she felt curiously reluctant to face.
'Men usually have acquired some experience by my age,' he shrugged, glancing at her derisively, 'if that's all they have gained.'
He seemed to lose interest in the conversation after that and barely looked at her again as they went down in the lift to the restaurant. Emma hoped he didn't intend ignoring her all evening. She could have done with a little kinder attention as the thought of meeting Blanche held her as taut as a violin string. She was very tempted to plead once more with Rick to leave, and had to warn herself miserably that they did have a kind of contract, and that any further move to break it must come from him. She had said she would stay with him and stay she must, until he chose to release her from her foolish promises.
Her feelings somewhat mixed, that Rick didn't seem as interested in her as he had done that morning at the hairdressers, Emma walked quietly by his side. It was what she had planned, wasn't it? She had no right to feel hard done by.
In the dining room there was no sign of Blanche, but in a hotel the size of this, the chances of bumping into her couldn't be great. If Emma had expected to feel relieved by her cousin's non-appearance, she was doomed to disappointment. She soon began to feel more like a soldier in a forest full of hidden enemies. She wished she could have confronted Blanche at once and got it over with.
Rick, magnificent in evening dress, was formidably silent and not disposed to linger. Watching him wistfully, now and then, from under veiled lashes, Emma supposed he looked nothing like a brand new bridegroom. He made little effort to talk to her and the few attempts she made to get a conversation going seemed to fall on deaf ears. He looked irritated when one of the waiters had a surprised look in his eyes every time he called Emma madam, but apart from this his face was as expressionless as usual.
'It's not my fault if he thinks I should still be mademoiselle' she said at last, wondering if it was. Colour tinted her skin and she wished she hadn't spoken.
'Isn't it?' Rick rejoined irritably, but added nothing more.
It was only just after ten when they went back upstairs. Emma tried not to glance in the direction of the street, or to envisage all the enchantment Paris had to offer after dark. Night life, as such, held no great appeal for her, but it might have been nice for once, especially on one's honeymoon. It must be heavenly to dance, or even wander on the banks of the Seine in the arms of a man one loved. Her heart gave a funny little bound as her eyes flickered uncertainly upwards to meet Rick's, only to find him staring at her in total indifference.
'Are you going out again?' she asked resignedly, as they reached their suite and he began pouring himself a drink.
'I might, in a few minutes,' he muttered curtly, as though wholly fed up with everything.
'There—there wasn't anyone downstairs,' she volunteered nervously, finding herself curiously reluctant to mention Blanche by name.
'We'll see,' he replied enigmatically.
She was about to ask what he meant when it was suddenly explained to her. There came a sharp rapping on the door, but when Rick called, 'Entrez,' nothing happened.
Immediately startled, Emma gazed at him, but already he was striding over the room. A member of the hotel staff would have a key and would have obeyed Rick at once. So if it wasn't one of the staff—and they hadn't rung for anything—it could only be someone who knew them, perhaps another guest.
Although intuition warned Emma what to expect as Rick threw open the door, she couldn't restrain a horrified gasp as Blanche rushed in past him. There was no time for Emma to disappear, as she very much wished she could do.
Blanche was followed at a more leisurely pace by Rex Oliver, who looked the less disturbed of the two. Dazed, Emma stared numbly at them. What did Blanche want? What did she intend to say? Surely she wasn't going to try and bluff her way out? She could be convincingly ingenuous when she wanted to be, but Emma feared this time she wouldn't be good enough. Unfortunately, before she made a fool of herself, there was no chance to warn Blanche that Rick knew exactly what she'd been up to.
'Rick!' Blanche cried, turning, in one swift, graceful movement to clutch his arm. 'What a surprise, darling! What are you doing here? Why is Emma with you?' A poisonous little glance at Emma accompanied this last question.
'Why shouldn't she be?' Rick appeared to share none of Emma's uncertainty. His face was hard and he was arrogantly in charge of the situation. Staring coldly at Blanche, he explained, 'We were married yesterday.'
'M—married!' Emma had never heard Blanche stammer before and felt almost sorry for the other girl. Until Blanche laughed incredulously, 'Oh, don't be silly, darling, you can't be. You're engaged to me, remember? Not to—that silly little fool!'
'Something you forgot before I did.' His eyes full of contempt, Rick shook off her clinging hands as he glanced past her to Rex's lounging figure in the doorway.
'How can you say that?' Blanche exclaimed, her face slightly pink. 'I might be here with Rex, but you seem to be jumping to all the wrong conclusions. I'm just working for him.'
'You are?' Rick's smile was deceptive, for it contained no warmth. 'What job needs such close co-operation that you have to share a room?'
'You've been spying on me!' Blanche's temper, always uncontrollable, broke, although Emma saw she made a desperate effort to stay cool. 'Things aren't always what they seem. Rex…'
Rex merely shrugged at her pleading tones, realising the futility of the course she was attempting to pursue better than she did. 'I think the dice are too loaded against us, my dear. You gambled and lost, why not admit it?'
'I'm admitting nothing!' Blanche was quite magnificent, like a tigress at bay. Emma held her breath in momentary admiration and fear. Unfortunately Blanche turned on her. 'This is all your fault, you little slut! I might have known you'd let me down. As for you being married to Rick, I don't believe it!'
'It's quite true.' His face softening considerably, Rick reached an arm around Emma to draw her gently to his side. 'I've already told you. We were married in London yesterday morning.'
Blanche paused, staring, finding herself having reluctantly to re-think. Her thin mouth tightened to an ugly line. 'Are you trying to tell me you're in love?' she asked sarcastically, apparently convinced at last that Rick was telling the truth.
'A case of mutual attraction, strong enough to make us decide it would be a pity to waste a wedding ring,' Rick said smoothl
y.
'You came back from Australia sooner than you should have done!' Blanche accused him wildly.
'Yes, fortunately.' Rick's voice was still smooth, but Emma felt fury tightening the arm he had around her.
Frightened, she drew a deep breath, forgetting all about the promise she had made to pretend to be happily married. Instead of co-operating, she found herself pushing him away, her body so rigid that the others couldn't help but notice. 'Perhaps you should talk privately to Blanche, Rick, while I have a word with Rex? You could explain everything to her. Tell her how we're going to get a—'
'Emma!' Before she could say 'divorce', Rick shook her sharply, with a force which would have fooled no one. In a daze of dismay she saw Blanche's eyes narrow contemptuously and realised hollowly just how much she was letting Rick down.
'Have you nothing to say to your ex-lover?' Blanche enquired silkily of Emma, as Rick let her go. Blanche's shrewd mind was already at work on what she had quickly gathered from Emma's faltering statements. With a charmingly regretful smile she met Rick's eyes. 'Is it really necessary for us all to be heartbroken, darling? Perhaps, as Emma suggests, we should talk?'
'There's nothing to talk about,' he said icily.
'Your marriage needn't be permanent,' she pleaded. 'It was obviously on the rebound.'
Curtly he retorted. 'That's none of your business, Blanche.'
'If it isn't, why come here?' she cried. 'Don't tell me it was sheer coincidence that you picked this hotel for your honeymoon? If you're so much in love you can only see your—er—wife, why did you want to see me?'
'Please, Blanche…' Emma cut in, trying helplessly to stop the other girl from shouting the way she was doing. Surely there was such a thing as dignity?
'Shut up!'
Shrinking against the whiplash of Blanche's tongue, Emma felt forced to try again. 'With Rex gone…'she began, intending to say that when Rick had learnt this there had been nothing she could do to prevent him piecing together the whole story. Swiftly, though, Blanche stopped her.
'You were naturally too heartbroken to believe anything else mattered.'
Struck dumb again, Emma stared at her. Just what was Blanche trying to prove?
As Rick's mouth tightened ominously, Rex again intervened. 'It would be better for us all if we got out of here, Blanche. I think we've done enough damage as it is.' His eyes went quickly to Emma as he spoke and she realised bleakly the kind of construction Rick would place on his expression of silent pleading, especially when he added softly, 'I'm sorry, Emma. Words are rarely much good, but if Conway ill-treats you, you must come to me.'
For a moment Emma thought Rick was going to hit him and she clutched his arm frantically to stop him. 'Don't, Rick!' she cried, her face white.
Blanche, taking every advantage of an explosive situation, exclaimed sharply, 'Don't you see, Rick, she's terrified you might hurt him. You can see she's still crazy about him!'
Blanche was still shouting as Rex took her arm and literally dragged her out. Rick made no move to prevent them going. Indeed, his face was so black, Emma feared he was going to help them on their way. He must love Blanche very much if the sight of Rex and her together aroused such obvious feelings of jealousy and pain.
'This isn't the last you'll hear of me!' Blanche shrieked, as Rex closed the door.
When silence again reigned, Emma found she was trembling, but not so hard as she was when Rick reached her in two strides and grasped her shoulders. His hands would leave bruises in the morning, she thought dully, as his curt words ripped about her head.
'A fine help you proved to be!' he ground out, his eyes smouldering. 'You stood there shaking, looking as if you were about to faint. I might have known your feelings for Oliver would be stronger than your integrity. Nothing you owe me could compare with what you feel for that smarmy night club owner. Could it?'
'Rick, please! Rex isn't really like that. If you would only listen…' Emma was so upset she had no clear idea what she was saying. She only knew she must tell Rick the truth.
'He hadn't even the decency to offer you a word of apology,' Rick snarled, 'yet you're almost grovelling in his defence. I'd be a fool to have anything more to do with any of you!'
The flames of anger in his eyes burned her and his mouth was grim. Emma stared at him, her lips suddenly so dry she couldn't speak. Instinctively she was aware that if he was to learn the truth about her now, he really would send her away. One last deception uncovered would prove the last straw, and he wouldn't hesitate. Well, wasn't this what she wanted? No, she confessed to herself miserably, it wasn't. Apart from the fact that she had nowhere to go, she knew, with a lightning kind of illumination, that to lose Rick now would be like losing part of herself. It might be a strange way to feel about a man one hated, but she knew it was true. He had the power to make her heart race, as if she had been running. It could also make her limbs feel weak, even to recall being held in his arms. She wasn't sure of the extent of her involvement, nor had she any clear idea what was the matter with her? She only knew she couldn't let him go. One day, perhaps, but not yet.
'I'm tired,' she suddenly wrenched away from him. 'Look, Rick,' she said hoarsely, 'I'm sorry about Blanche and I can understand you feeling fed up, but is it my fault that neither of them appears to love either of us?'
'That wasn't the point!' he snarled savagely. 'The point is you let me down. You might be a rotten little actress, but you didn't even try. No one would have believed you were anything but a frightened adolescent. Maybe I should make sure no one will ever doubt you're a married woman again?'
Sensing his fury, Emma felt both nervous and terribly unhappy. He had been, she realised, in a vile temper since before they were married. It was what, she suspected, had driven him to such lengths in the first place, and what could drive him to even greater lengths if she didn't get out of his way very quickly.
'I—I think I'll go to bed. Goodnight, Rick.'
She was too late. Angry colour deepened over his hard cheekbones as he reached for her, before she could escape. Catching her off balance, as she turned, his arms grasped her as she stumbled against him. 'Maybe I can guess where I went wrong,' he muttered harshly, sweeping her off her feet.
His arms pinning her ruthlessly to him, he carried her swiftly over the lounge to her bedroom. As she struggled and gasped he threw her down on the bed with himself on top of her. Then, as if satisfied he had driven all the breath from her body, he eased his own body slightly away and began kissing her.
Emma wanted to resist him even while she knew she wanted him very much. Desperately she tried to hit out at him with her hands. She must try to ignore her burning, tormenting senses which tempted her to wait a few minutes before rejecting him. The frightening yet exciting dread that he might actually intend carrying out his angry threats fought with an instinctive horror of being taken in this way. If Rick had loved her it would have been different. She would still have been a little afraid, for it would have been her first time, but secure in his love she could have trusted him and asked him to be gentle. It was the lack of any sign of gentleness in the fierce possession of his mouth that warned her not to give in to him.
Yet his kisses were very hard to resist and she moaned as his mouth moved against her lips and throat. The neckline of her dress revealed the slight curve of her breasts and her breath caught as his seeking hands roved lightly over them. Then, with a quickness that stunned her, he drew down her zip and her dress was gone.
'Don't touch me!' she cried, wildly alarmed. 'Rick, please,' she gasped, as he took no notice, 'you can't take everything out on me!'
'Can't I?' he muttered, his teeth biting her naked shoulders, sending terrible tremors right down through her. 'Don't forget I bought you, so now I own you, which gives me more rights than Oliver ever had.'
'Forget about Rex,' she breathed chokingly. 'Think of Blanche, how much you love her.'
His mouth returned to hers but lightly so he could talk. 'I wanted her,
but only as a suitable wife. Now I have another. If not quite so suitable,' he taunted, 'I'm quite willing to make the most of what I've got.'
Such insolence, at such a time, was beyond Emma, yet she tried to be calm. 'I shouldn't do anything you might regret in the morning.'
'I could regret doing nothing even more,' he muttered, smiling coolly as he increased the pressure of his mouth so she couldn't answer back.
If his smile had held anything but indifference she might have given in, but knowing how he hated her gave her the strength to fight him like a wildcat. Even so she soon found his powerful body, combined with the equally powerful forces of nature, proving too much for her. Weakly she began to moan as his sensual lips forced hers apart, holding her still, until she became aflame with desire. His shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and she felt the impact of his flat, muscular stomach and wide powerful shoulders. His hands, she discovered, were as potent and expert as his mouth. Soon he had her head spinning with her senses until she scarcely knew where she was or what she was doing any more.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rick's hand moved slowly over her back before coming round to unhook the front of her bra. As one of the hooks caught her tender skin and she winced, he grunted curtly, 'God, you're as thin as a boy!'
Emma might have died with shame at his disparaging remark if she hadn't sensed his faint intrigue. Suddenly, as his hands continued moving over her, she felt his heart begin beating heavily. 'You must have something, if other men fancy you.'
This revolted her so much she began struggling again, trying to fight her way out of his arms as well as from the drugging effect of his lovemaking which threatened to overwhelm her. 'Rick!' she cried, 'You're mistaken. There's nothing about me.'
'Supposing you shut up and let me find out for myself?' he growled.
'No…' she pleaded brokenly, while suddenly finding it impossible to deny him any longer. As his mouth crushed punishingly down on hers, she found herself defeated as much by the strength of her own feelings as anything else. There was only her body held tightly against him and a hot, sweet tide of desire drawing her heedlessly on to meet the rising demand of his passion.
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