Fiancee By Mistake

by Walker Kate

  Was it possible? Could he have drugged her? Put something in her drink?

  'How dare you—?'

  'Calm down, lady.'

  Sean had seen the flare of distress in her eyes.

  '"Dare" doesn't come into it. And you can forget the dark, perverted sexual feelings you're obviously determined to attribute to me. I acted for your comfort, pure and simple, and nothing else. You fainted; you were out cold—or, rather, not cold at all, but burning up with some sort of fever. Which reminds me.'

  At last he moved from his position in the doorway, coming fully into the room to place a glass of water on the bedside table.

  'Try and drink some of this; it'll do you good. And, forgive me, but...'

  The hand that rested on her forehead was cool and impersonal, his touch so light that she had barely time to register it before he lifted it away again. 'There, that wasn't so bad, was it?' The thread of mockery in the question caught her on the raw. "You seem much less feverish. How do you feel now?'

  'OK.'

  Leah's response came warily, and her eyes were still dark with suspicion as she studied him. It all sounded very plausible, but she couldn't rid herself of the thought that had been uppermost in her mind when she had woken. Sean had set out to deliberately deceive her once. Who was to say that he wasn't prepared to do it again?

  'I'm a bit wrung out.'

  That was an understatement if there ever was one. She felt as if she had just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion, her limbs aching and frighteningly weak.

  'Not surprising.' Sean nodded soberly. 'You'll feel that way for a while yet, I expect. You've had a nasty couple of days.'

  'Days!'

  Leah didn't care if she sounded like a dazed parrot, echoing everything he said. The impact of his words hit home so violently that she struggled to sit up, remembering her unclothed state only at the last moment, and hastily pulling the duvet up around her shoulders again.

  'Did you say days! How long...?'

  'You've been ill for three days,' Sean supplied when confusion cut the sentence off unfinished.

  He came to sit on the bed, deliberately keeping his distance from her as he perched at the foot of the mattress.

  'You had some foul sort of virus. The doctor said—'

  'Doctor? What doctor?'

  Had someone got through to the cottage while she had been ill? Couldn't he have taken her away with him?

  'The one I rang when you passed out on me. I'm not so irresponsible that I'd neglect to get medical advice when you were obviously pretty sick.' The sharpness of his tone told her how much even the thought of her suspicion had stung.

  "That wasn't what I meant.'

  'Oh, so you were wondering if he'd fought his way through the snow to come to your bedside? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but he did no such thing. He didn't have to. He practically told me all your symptoms without even bothering to ask. It seems half the population's down with this virus. Obviously it was already in your system when you left London, and the crash was just the last straw. You were completely out of it there for a while.'

  So it seemed, Leah reflected bemusedly. How could she have lost three days just like that? But now that the feeling that seemed to have clouded her brain like clinging cotton wool was beginning to ease she realised that the passing of time was not such a shock as she had at first believed it to be.

  She had vague, disjointed memories of feeling dreadfully ill, times when she seemed to have been burning up, when she had surfaced from the febrile dreams that had gripped her to find her whole body drenched in sweat. There had been other occasions when quite the opposite had happened, when she had shivered and moaned, unable to get warm.

  And all that time someone had been there. Someone with gentle hands and a soft, soothing voice. Someone who had bathed her and fed her sips of cooling water when her throat was parched, and who had wrapped her up, providing hot water bottles, when she had suffered from the cold. She even seemed to recall...

  But her mind skittered away from a memory that she was sure must just have been the result of the delirium that had accompanied the fever.

  'You looked after me all that time?'

  'There was no one else here to do it.' Sean's tone was calm and matter-of-fact, his demeanour as impersonal as any doctor's. It was that which gave Leah the courage to ask the next question that burned in her mind..

  'And my clothes?'

  'Like I said, I thought you'd be more comfortable out of them. I found a nightdress in your case, but at the height of the fever it got soaked so I replaced it with a tee-shirt of mine. I had to do that a couple of times altogether—they're downstairs in the washer right now.'

  Her relief must show on her face, Leah knew. She was too weak, too exhausted, to hide the way she was feeling. But still mere was one thing that fretted at her thoughts.

  'I—wasn't always hot,' she said carefully.

  But not carefully enough. That much was clear from the frown that darkened Sean's face, the way his mouth clamped shut, a muscle jerking at the side of his jaw with the effort he was making to hold something back.

  'No, there were times when you just couldn't get warm.'

  Each word was cold and precise, as if it was formed in letters of ice.

  'And, yes...'

  Clearly he had anticipated what her next question would be.

  'Last night I did the only thing possible to get you warm again. I got in beside you. But, no, whatever your suspicious little mind is thinking, I didn't touch you, or at least no more than I absolutely had to in order to make you comfortable. I'm not the depraved monster you seem to believe I am, and neither am I so desperate for a woman as to force myself on any unconscious female.'

  Burning colour that had nothing to do with a possible temperature flooded into Leah's cheeks at his ominously sardonic tone.

  'I never thought you were.'

  'Oh, yes, you did, sweetheart. It's written all over that lovely face of yours. But, quite frankly, comatose victims just don't turn me on. I prefer my lovers wide awake and actively willing.'

  It was only as she flinched away from the bitter humour that Leah realised too late that it had not been there before. Her own foolish fears had sparked off that reaction in Sean, and she had only herself to blame if he turned away from her as he did now. But not before she had seen that the tight-jawed control was back, thinning his generous mouth to a cold, hard line.

  'Sean...'

  It was just a faint thread of sound, but it was enough to still him as he marched towards the door. She saw how his head moved slightly. Only his head, as he turned a swift, sideways glance in her direction.

  But that was all. Apart from that one small movement, every muscle in the long body was taut with ruthlessly controlled anger as he waited, not saying a word.

  'I'm sorry. I should have known... And thank you for taking care of me.'

  'I could hardly leave you in an unconscious heap on the living room floor.'

  There was only the slightest trace of dry humour in his response, but at least it was a start. Then abruptly he seemed to reconsider, and a little of his tension eased as he turned back to her.

  'Do you think you could try to eat something now? It would do you a lot of good. You'll be faint from lack of food as much as from anything else. Some soup, perhaps?'

  'I'd like that, thanks.'

  Perhaps she would feel better with something in her stomach, she reflected as she listened to his footsteps descending the stairs. Some food might ease the fuzzy, lightheaded feeling that made it seem as if she couldn't quite get a grip on anything.

  Left alone, she made herself face up to what had happened, and she found that an uncomfortable stab from her conscience made her twist uneasily in the bed. She had been particularly ungracious to Sean, and without much justification. After all, he had cared for her for three days and nights, and all she had shown him was suspicion and distrust.

  But then the thought that had
come to her as she had woken returned to haunt her, and anger sparked through her again, pushing away the weaker feelings she had been prey to.

  Before she had time to recover, Sean was back in the room. He carried a tray, on which was a bowl of the soup he had promised, and slung over one arm was a pale blue tee-shirt which he tossed onto the bed.

  'Here, this will preserve your modesty until your nightdress is dry again. I had hoped it would be washed and dried before now, but the power has only just come back on.'

  Reaching for the tee-shirt, Leah froze, intrigued by his comment.

  'The power?'

  Sean nodded his dark head. 'The snow must have brought cables down somewhere. We were without any electricity for over twenty-four hours. That's why I had to resort to extreme measures to keep you warm.'

  'Oh...'

  One glance at the dancing mockery in those blue eyes had her colouring in confusion. Snatching up the tee-shirt again, she pulled it over her head, as much to hide her embarrassment as to cover herself.

  It was a struggle to get into the simple garment while remaining in bed. The need to keep the quilt pulled up over her nakedness necessitated some awkward wriggling and adjustment, but she was thankful to find that, being wide and loose, the shirt came down well on to her hips. When she finally settled back against the pillows again it was to find Sean regarding her with undisguised amusement.

  'Isn't it a little too late for such modesty?' he asked softly, his sensual mouth curling wickedly. 'Surely there's nothing I haven't seen already.'

  'I was ill then—unconscious!' Leah returned with some force.

  'Actually, I was thinking of another, very different occasion,' Sean drawled back.

  His amusement grew as he saw her pause to consider, then do a mental double-take as she realised precisely the occasion he was talking about, on her arrival at the cottage that first evening.

  'All the more reason to avoid any possible repetition of such events.'

  'You have a beautiful body, darling.'

  Sean's voice was silky with implications, just the thought of which raised goosebumps of reaction all over Leah's skin.

  'As I'm sure you're only too aware. But it takes more than a glimpse of a naked female form to have me panting with lust. The women I've taken to bed have been more than willing—'

  'I'll bet!' Leah muttered darkly, but Sean ignored her sarcastic interjection.

  'And I wouldn't want it any other way.'

  He waited a nicely calculated moment, just long enough for her tension to subside and a deeper embarrassment to take its place, before he spoke again.

  'The willing part will come soon enough. I'm quite prepared to wait.'

  'Then you'll wait till hell freezes over!'

  She'd been there once before, and her own reaction, the total loss of control she had experienced had shaken her. It was not something she fancied risking again.

  Her furious retort brought a wicked grin to Sean's mouth.

  'You are feeling better,' he drawled. 'Well, we'll see. Are you ready for your soup now?'

  Privately, Leah suspected that any food would stick in her throat, choking her, but spooning it up gave her something to do, an action to concentrate on so that she didn't have to meet those tauntingly brilliant blue eyes. In the end she found it surprisingly easy to swallow, and was grateful for the warmth it brought to her weakened body.

  While she ate Sean settled in a chair, leaning back indolently and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

  'I'm surprised you haven't asked about the weather. I had a bet with myself, that that would be your first question—when you could get out of here.'

  'And can I?' It was impossible to disguise the lift of hope in her voice, the way her head had come up.

  Sean's laughter was dark, a travesty of genuine humour.

  'Sorry, sweetheart, you don't get away from me as easily as that. There was one day it didn't snow while you've been ill, and then it froze so hard that what few roads were opened will be positively lethal now. And I doubt if the snow-ploughs got to the lanes round here anyway. So I'm afraid we'd better resign ourselves to spending Christmas together at the very least'

  'Christmas!'

  All the enjoyment Leah had been getting from the tasty soup vanished in a second. Her brain seemed to have come back into focus at last, bringing with it a new and very uncomfortable awareness of what Sean had been saying since he had come into her bedroom.

  Three days he had said, and she had arrived here on...

  'What date is it today?'

  'December twenty-third,' was the lazily indifferent reply. 'Tomorrow's Christmas Eve.'

  'But it can't be!'

  Pushing her now empty bowl aside, she turned wide, shocked eyes on his composed face. Her mother would be frantic; she had expected her to arrive two days ago.

  'I have to phone!'

  Sean stiffened in his seat, the eyes that met hers coolly distant.

  'No can do, I'm afraid.'

  'Oh, don't give me that again! You may have fooled me the first time, but I know you have a phone.'

  'Yes, but you can't use it.'

  'And you can't stop me! Listen, you cold-hearted swine, I may be stuck with you, but I'm not your prisoner! You can't force me to— Sean!'

  She broke off on a squawk of fear as, eyes blazing with cold fury, Sean sprang to his feet and covered the distance between his chair and the bed in three swift strides.

  Thoroughly unnerved, Leah shrank back against the pillows. But Sean ignored her fearful response as he pulled the soup bowl from her nerveless grasp and slammed it down onto the bedside table with such force that she fully expected to see it shatter into tiny pieces.

  Without a word, he swooped down on her, gathering her up into his arms with an ease that spoke volumes for the true strength of the muscles beneath the clinging sweatshirt.

  'Sean!'

  Her protest came weakly, too soft and shaken to have any real impact, and she didn't even know if he heard it. If he did, he ignored it ruthlessly, kicking open her door and heading across the landing towards the stairs.

  'Sean!' she tried again.

  'Shut up!'

  Suddenly terrified for a very different reason, Leah subsided into silence, her hands instinctively clutching at the strong arms that supported her. One false move and they would surely fall, she told herself fearfully.

  The thought of tumbling down the steep, narrow staircase sent a shiver of panic through her. They would hit the stone-flagged floor at the bottom—herself first, and then Sean's not inconsiderable weight.

  But the next moment she was jolted out of her terrified reverie by the shocking realisation that Sean was laughing. She could feel his broad chest shake under her cheek, the rumble of his amusement sounding in her ear.

  'Don't panic, sweetheart,' he murmured, in a very different tone from the one he had used earlier, his voice sounding warm and surprisingly soft. 'You're quite safe.'

  As if to emphasise his point, his arms tightened round her, holding her close to the warm strength of his body.

  And that was when everything changed. Leah found that she was shivering again, but this time with a very different sort of reaction, one that ripped through her already shattered composure, reaching right to its very core.

  It wasn't fear that gripped her, making her pulse pound so heavily that it all but drowned the steady, regular thud of Sean's heart beneath her cheek. It wasn't even concern for her own safety, but something else entirely.

  The sensations that seared through every nerve in response to the warmth of Sean's body reaching through the fine tee-shirt, the iron strength of the arms holding her, was one of pure physical excitement, nothing more. It set her blood ablaze in her veins until she felt as if she was back in the feverish delirium of her illness.

  Her head was spinning in a way that had nothing to do with physical weakness. Unable to think, unable even to breathe properly, she was aware only of the effect th
at Sean's closeness was having on every one of her senses.

  He wore no aftershave or cologne, and the clean scent of his skin so close to hers was more potently arousing than the most expensive of exotic perfumes. If she fitted her head back against his shoulder, looking up into his face, she could see the hard line of his jaw, that sensual mouth with its disturbingly full lower lip. From this side, that dreadful scar was hidden, his features once more the chiselled perfection that had won the hearts of so many ardent female fans.

  Her mind hazing over, Leah felt as if she had once more lapsed back into the semi-consciousness of the past three days. Vague memories, previously forgotten, now floated to the surface of her mind like bubbles in a pond. She could recall Sean's face bending over her, hear his soft voice in her ear.

  He had bathed her burning skin with something cool, held water to her parched lips. When she had been so weak and felt quite dreadful she had associated him with an overwhelming sense of relief and comfort, but as soon as she had improved at all he had reverted to being once more the coldly distant tormentor of her first evening in the cottage.

  'Here...'

  From the hall, Sean had turned left, into a part of the house she had never seen before. Looking around her, she couldn't hold back a faint exclamation of delight at the sight of the small, cosy room with its walls lined with bookshelves and a heavy, old-fashioned wooden desk set under the window.

  But then her gaze focused on the telephone standing on one comer of that desk and her mood changed abruptly. The memory of the way he had lied to her was like the stab of a sharp knife.

  'Right!'

  Sean set her down on a large, high-backed, leather-covered chair and took a couple of steps backwards, away from her and towards the desk.

  'Let's get this sorted out once and for all.'

  Looking up at him, Leah could see both sides of his face once more, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the full impact of the scar.

  Suddenly it was as if all the warmth had left her body, the heated delirium of only moments before fading and leaving her feeling lost and shaken. It seemed to her that the two sides of Sean's face could be taken to represent the two sides of his character, as he had shown it to her in their time together.