Fiancee By Mistake

by Walker Kate

But she wasn't denying that that was what she wanted either.

  'But I can't just settle for nothing!'

  'Nothing!' He spat the word into her face. 'Is that what these past days have been to you—nothing! We share a passion, a desire that's like a flame...'

  'And flames burn out so quickly! I can't do it, Sean! Without love—without commitment—that passion would swallow me up, destroy me. It would be like the eclipse on Christmas Eve. The passion would be like the sun, blotting out the light of the moon—the light that is me! I wouldn't exist any more!'

  As her words died away Sean drew in his breath with a ragged hiss, raking both his hands through his hair.

  "Then there's no point in going on unless you can accept things as they are. Because I'm not offering permanence, Leah. I won't promise something I know I can't deliver.'

  Couldn't she see that he was trying his best to be honest? Surely she could value that at least? But then even that faint hope shrivelled and died as she shook her head in firm rejection.

  'And I can't live with the thought that one day—sooner rather than later—you'll tire of me and throw me out. Oh, don't try to deny it," she hurried on as he opened his mouth to protest 'I mean, the phone's only been back on for a couple of hours and already you've called the garage to arrange to have my car sorted out so that you can be rid of me whenever it suits.'

  'It wasn't...'

  But he couldn't finish. It was partially the truth, he admitted to himself, but not in the way she had interpreted it. It had been because he had wanted her to know that she was free. She could go if she wanted—or stay. But that wasn't going to happen now.

  'Forget it, Sean,' Leah said softly. 'I think we both know where we stand.'

  Still with her head held high, she turned and started to walk away from him.

  'Where are you going now?'

  'To get dressed.' It was low-voiced, flat and emotionless. 'And then perhaps you'd be kind enough to drive me to the garage.'

  She was ready in no time at all. Certainly not long enough for him to collect his scattered thoughts and find a way out of the mess they were in.

  There wasn't a way out. They were each on opposite sides of a yawning chasm and nothing could build a bridge across it.

  Leah collected her handbag from the living room, looking round sadly at the decorations she had made so happily such a short time before. At the last moment her gaze fell on the small, brightly wrapped parcel on the hearth.

  'You never opened your present—this present, that is,' she amended bitterly.

  'So I didn't.'

  They had never even thought of it. They'd been too busy making love, too absorbed in each other to notice anything else.

  'I'll leave it anyway. I certainly don't want it, and now I can't give it to—'

  'You can't give it to...?' He pounced on the words viciously. 'Give it to who?'

  But she didn't need to answer. Like a cold, brutal spotlight flicking on, the truth dawned in his mind.

  'Andy,' he said slowly, dangerously. 'It was originally for Andy, wasn't it?'

  If she'd been pale before, then now her skin was practically translucent.

  'Would you believe me if I said no? And does it matter who I bought it for? I—'

  'Does it matter?'

  He couldn't believe how much it hurt. So much that he wanted to take her heart and tear it into little pieces in return.

  'Of course it matters! Take it!' he roared, snatching it up and shoving it at her, not caring that her nerveless hands fumbled and let it drop to the floor. 'Take it and get out! Do you think I want anything like that—do you think I want his cast-offs?'

  That brought her head up. Her eyes were dead and her skin drawn tight across her fine bones.

  'You weren't so particular about such things when it came to sleeping with me!'

  'No, I wasn't'

  Totally punch drunk on anger and pain, Sean saw his chance. Urged on by some evil little imp of cruelty, he couldn't resist the opportunity to drive the knife of revenge home and twist it hard.

  'But then it's surprising how very low you'll stoop when you're desperate.'

  The silence that greeted the foul words was so profound that it almost felt as if the air in the room had turned to ice. He thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall as she straightened her shoulders and picked up her bag.

  'How very true—for both of us, I think. Well, now we really do know where we stand.'

  Drawing in a deep, uneven breath, she swallowed hard.

  'Perhaps I could ask you one last favour?'

  'Name it.'

  Even now, he couldn't suppress the tiny, irrational hope that sprang into his mind. But it was already far too late, and her words confirmed as much when she spoke again.

  'Let me use the phone to ring for a taxi. I'll wait at the garage until my car's ready. I think we'd both be a lot happier with a clean, sharp break.'

  'I couldn't agree more.' He didn't know how he found the voice to say it, or the strength to make the gesture towards the study door. 'Be my guest.'

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  'FIVE-FIFTEEN, thank heaven! Only a quarter of an hour to go!'

  Leah smiled in sympathy as her workmate, Melanie, collapsed onto the chair in her office with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

  'It's been a day from hell, hasn't it?' she said with feeling, thinking, as the younger woman nodded enthusiastic agreement, that her friend only knew the half of it

  'The world and his wife must have been in to enquire about a holiday today. It must be because of the post-Christmas slump and the appalling weather.'

  She nodded towards the window, where the rain lashed against the glass.

  'It makes them think longingly of warmer places, of—'

  She broke off on a groan as the sound of a buzzer from the main part of the agency indicated the arrival of yet another would-be holidaymaker.

  'I'll get it.'

  Melanie forced herself to her feet and headed out of the room, leaving Leah to concentrate once more on the papers she had been working on.

  Trying to work on, she amended wryly as she heard Melanie greet their customer. The truth was that her powers of concentration were at rock bottom, and had been from the moment she had got up. It had been like that ever since she had returned to London after the holidays, but today had been so much worse.

  Sighing, she rubbed a weary hand across eyes that were dulled and shadowed with lack of sleep. A week ago she might have been able to explain away her listlessness and woolly-mindedness as the result of celebrating the New Year, but that wouldn't work as a cover story for much longer.

  The truth was that she had felt only half a person ever since she had left Yorkshire. She had left a vital part of herself in the cottage, with Sean. Even the happy news her mother had told her the previous night was not enough to lift the black cloud of depression.

  'It's someone to see you.'

  Melanie was back, standing in the doorway with her eyes wide with suppressed excitement. Seeing from Leah's face that she was about to refuse to see anyone, she went oh swiftly, 'And he says he won't leave without talking to you. Says it's not business, but...'

  'Strictly personal.'

  The two words were pronounced in a coldly precise voice, rich with ominous undertones that had Leah freezing in the act of shaking her head. She didn't have to look up to see who now stood behind Melanie, his dark head and broad shoulders dwarfing her petite frame.

  All the strength seemed to drain from her body as she looked up and found her gaze locking with those vivid blue eyes that she remembered only too well.

  She had seen those eyes so many times since. They had haunted her restless, erotic dreams over the past weeks. In her sleep she had seen them glow with gentle warmth, or blaze with sexual hunger. Seen them dark with passion or glazed by desire. And then, as cruel reality had taken over, crushing her sensual imagination, she had seen them once again as cold and
inimical as they were now, just shards of blue ice that seemed to freeze her right to her soul.

  'Hello, Sean,' she managed, shock depriving her voice of all emotion so that it sounded cold and distantly brittle.

  'Leah...'

  With a curt nod of acknowledgement he put Melanie to one side and strode purposefully into the room. As he came nearer, Leah suddenly had to get to her feet in a rush, feeling far too vulnerable and defenceless sitting down.

  Nervously she adjusted her smart navy skirt and white blouse.

  'What can I do for you?'

  It was impossible that he had simply picked on this travel agency by chance, by some dreadful malign coincidence. But at least allowing herself to think that stopped her from indulging in the crazy, weak hope that sprang into her mind.

  She couldn't let herself believe that he had come looking for her alone. That he would say that he had realised how wrong he'd been, that...

  Crushing down the foolish thought, she took cover behind the formally professional façade she adopted with difficult customers.

  'Are you interested in a holiday? Can I help—'

  The words were cut off sharply by an explicitly savage retort that had Melanie's eyes widening even further.

  'You can go home now, Mel,' she said hastily. 'It's very nearly time. I'll lock up.'

  'If you're sure...'

  With a lingering glance at Sean that was a blend of fascination and something close to fear, the younger girl hurried from the room, and a short time late Leah heard the front door close behind her.

  The sudden silence was broken by Sean's unexpected snort of cynical laughter.

  'She looked as if she was torn between satisfying her curiosity as to why I was here and wanting to get the hell away from me as quickly as possible.'

  I know exactly how she felt, Leah told herself silently, knowing that, with the exception of one other emotion, Sean had described the volatile mixture in her mind precisely. But that extra, unwanted feeling complicated things terribly.

  It was impossible to deny the pleasure she got simply from seeing Sean here with her like this, when she had believed it would never happen again. Impossible not to let her gaze wander over the tall, strong body in a rich blue shirt and black jeans under a supple leather flying jacket. Impossible to resist the appeal of those strongly carved features, the black hair whipped into wild disarray by the wind and spattered with jewel-like drops of rain.

  He looked stunning, gloriously alive and virile, his devastatingly vital attraction positively lethal to her composure.

  But that attraction was a double-edged sword. It slashed though the control she had thought she had imposed on herself ever since she had fled from the cottage and returned home. For the delight of seeing him, speaking to him like this, she knew she would have to pay a hundredfold. It would mean enduring the agony of loss all over again, the sleepless nights and the long, lonely days.

  'Just why have you come here?'

  But she was talking to empty air. Sean had turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Following him helplessly, Leah could only stare in confusion as he fastened the lock and slammed home the bolts on the door through which Melanie had just left, pulling down the blinds at the windows.

  'Sean! It's not closing time...'

  'Near enough,' he declared, coming back towards her, switching off lights as he went. 'After all, there are hardly great queues of people banging on the door demanding to be let in. Anyone with any sense will be on their way home to get out of this rain and stay indoors for the rest of the night. Get your coat.'

  But Leah had decided that the time had come to dig in her heels and assert herself. Up to now she'd felt as if she had been flattened by a tidal wave, but enough was enough.

  'Not on your life!' she retorted, her chin coming up defiantly. Tm not going anywhere with you for any reason at all!'

  'We need to talk.' The harsh assertion slashed through her protest.

  'About what?'

  Oh, why was she still a prey to that weak flare of hope that ran like lightning through every nerve, setting her on fire with yearning hunger? In the end, it only made the inevitable let-down all the worse when Sean reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded newspaper, tossing it onto the desk beside her.

  There was no need to ask any further what he meant. The paper fell open at the appropriate page, its message clear for her to see.

  Leah had to bite back a moan of despair as her eyes focused on the photograph of Sean's face, the scarred side showing shockingly clearly, underneath the dark, mocking headline: WHO'S NOT A PRETTY BOY, THEN?

  Stunned into silence, the power of speech totally deserting her, Leah could only open and close her mouth again without a sound coming out. 'Coat!' Sean instructed again, with deadly intensity.

  Moving purely on automatic pilot, she obeyed, checking doors and setting the alarm like a programmed robot. He couldn't suspect... He just couldn't believe she was capable...

  It wasn't until he had led her to his car, installed her in the front seat and was actually driving away that rational thought returned, and with it some control over her voice.

  'Where are you taking me?' It was impossible not to remember how she had been through something very like this before, and the recollection of what that had led to sent a cold shiver down her spine.

  'Somewhere we can talk undisturbed.'

  'But you can't think I...'

  For a second his eyes left the road and fixed her with an intent scrutiny that made her feel as if she might actually shrivel into ashes in her seat.

  'Who else is there?'

  Who else, indeed? It was a consideration that kept her silent again until he swung the car into an underground car park, slamming on the brakes before getting out to open her door.

  Terror held her frozen in her seat. Looking into the inimical blue of his eyes, she could almost hear again his voice saying harshly, 'It would make a great exclusive... Everyone could do with a little bit more money.'

  'Sean, be reasonable. How could I have done this? I didn't even have a camera. And I wouldn't tell anyone...' The words tumbled over each other in her rush to try and convince him. 'I mean, I couldn't! You know I wouldn't because—'

  Realisation of exactly what she had been about to give away closed her throat over the words 'I love you'. Sean ignored her appeal, his face set in cold, unyielding lines.

  'Are you coming, or do I have to...?'

  Abruptly his mood changed. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, he raked both hands through the dark sleekness of his hair.

  'Leah...' he began again, in a very different voice, the contrast with his previous tone almost shocking. 'Please come with me to my flat, so that we can talk like civilised human beings.'

  '"Civilised"!' Leah scoffed. 'There's been very little that was civil about the way you've behaved up till now!' But that unexpected note of appeal had her climbing out of the car when all the force in the world wouldn't have moved her.

  In the lift up to his flat they remained silent, Sean appearing to have lapsed into a dark and brooding mood, his thoughts obviously ones that disturbed him.

  After the stark simplicity of the cottage, the muted luxury of the room he led her into took her breath away. Decorated in tones of beige and cream, with lots of natural pale wood, it was a painful reminder of the fact that the man who lived there was the real Sean Gallagher, rich, famous, and very, very successful. The brief idyll of the Yorkshire hideaway had never seemed more dreamlike and unreal.

  'Would you like a drink?'

  Automatically Leah shook her head. She knew she couldn't blame the effects of alcohol for what had happened the last time they had been together, but all the same she thought it was wiser to keep a very clear head. As he poured himself a measure of brandy, she launched into an appeal for understanding.

  'Sean, you must know that I would never have sold your story to the papers. It's something that's a total anathema to me.'

 
; He took a large swallow of his drink, watching her closely over the rim of his glass.

  'And you expect me to believe that?'

  'Why not? It is the truth after all.'

  'Is it?'

  'Of course it is! If you must know, I don't even see that scar any more, or only because it's part of you—like your hair or your eyes—and if the television people think—'

  "They don't,' Sean inserted firmly. "The producers of Inspector Callender don't give a damn about the scar. As a matter of fact, they've come up with a major storyline to explain how it happened—one I'm really looking forward to acting."

  Tm glad...'

  'And I may no longer be "God's gift to women"...' The cynical way he quoted her own description back at her again made Leah wince in distress. 'But in a way that's all to the good. There are plenty of meaty parts for someone who's no longer tied to the matinee idol label. So if you thought that making the story a nine-day wonder would—'

  'I didn't!' How could she make him believe her? "The time I spent with you in the cottage isn't something I'd want to share with anyone else, let alone the papers."

  'And why not?'

  Because I love you! But she couldn't say that, not when he was glowering at her in that threatening manner, his dark, straight brows drawn tightly together.

  'Because I—care about you."

  'Care!' It was like a crack of thunder, cynical enough to make her flinch. 'Oh, yes, you care, all right. Enough to take what you want while you're enjoying yourself, but not enough to stick around when things get tough."

  'No!'

  How could he accuse her of that? Hadn't he been the one to force her out? Or was he saying that if she'd stayed, pushed—tried a little harder...?

  'No?'

  His sudden movement towards her had her whirling away in panic, sending her bag flying so that it landed on the floor. The impact snapped open the clasp, sending the contents tumbling onto the carpet. With a cry of distress she knelt to gather them up again.

  'Here, let me...'

  He was at her side in a moment. Together their hands reached for the same item—a square white envelope. Sean's fingers closed over it first.

  'Give that to me!'