Conditional Surrender

by Wendy Prentice

  It should have been easy. Kate felt the lie rise to her lips, but as she opened her mouth the falsehood stuck in her throat. Pinned, mesmerised by the sensual impact of unwavering grey eyes, feeling his clean breath hot on her face, inhaling his familiar scent, she knew the denial was lost. In one short breath she became a spitting bundle of fury, two weeks of pent-up frustration bursting forth in glorious rage.

  `Damn you, Greg! Damn you to hell!' She caught him totally off guard with the suddenness of her attack. She pummelled his chest furiously with clenched fists, even

  slapping him backhandedly across his face until he pinned her arms behind her back in sheer self-defence, and held her close until her fury had burnt itself out.

  He held her head cradled against his chest, tenderly stroking her hair. 'Poor Kate,' he murmured softly. For a brief span of time she lay quiescent against him. Her fury spent, she was drained of energy, swamped by an unaccountable relief that the battle was finally over. Even if she had lost.

  She had had to be strong and independent for so long that the temptation to hand over all her burdens was overwhelming.

  Greg would take his responsibilities seriously. Would it be so bad to give in to this debilitating weakness to accept what he offered? To bury herself in his passion without longing for his love? Love? Where had that idea come from?

  The temptation died as swiftly as it had arisen. Yes, she could fall in love with him. Very easily, in fact, if she did not guard herself against it—as he had warned her. With an instinct so clear as to be almost palpable, she knew that somewhere deep inside Greg was a human being as emotionally vulnerable as herself; so scared of being hurt or rejected, he refused to lay his feelings open to attack. Buried so deep, it would take little short of a miracle to bring them to the surface.

  Oh, yes, she could fall in love with him—if she wanted to commit emotional suicide. Kate was neither a fool nor a masochist.

  No. The battle might be over, but there was still a war to be fought. She had to continue fighting him, had to try to despise him. There was no other way if she was to retain any pretence of self-respect.

  Decision made, she pulled jerkily out of his arms.

  `I'm going back to bed,' she said. He smiled slightly at her polite tone with no trace of his usual mockery.

  `Very well, Kate. I'll let you run away for now.'

  `I'm quite incapable of running. Besides,' she looked up into his softened face, 'you've left me nowhere to run.'

  He stiffened at her bitterly weary accusation, his face

  becoming an unreadable mask.

  `I'm glad you appreciate that,' he intoned heavily. 'It won't be so bad, Kate, I promise.'

  She turned at the door, her whole body crying a negation of the events which had taken her over.

  `You said once you wouldn't make promises you couldn't keep, Greg. Don't start now.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  `THANK heaven that's over!' Kate's husband heaved a sigh of relief on returning to the car, after removing the decorations her brothers had seen fit to plaster all over the once gleaming Mercedes. Tight-lipped, Greg leaned back in his seat as Kate made no effort to reply.

  The normal dark grey business suit she was used to had been replaced by a lighter grey which had the effect of making him look even more devastatingly attractive than ever, she thought with complete detachment. She had chosen to be married in a cream tight-waisted suit, the colour unfortunately underlining her too-pale complexion.

  She had followed orders and smiled dutifully throughout the small reception her parents had insisted on giving. As Sam and Marie Goodis had been Greg's only guests, Kate had been able to persuade her parents that it would be unkind to overwhelm Greg with their huge family contingent at this early stage. The truth was much more simple: she knew she could not have borne the sincere congratulations her hordes of relatives would no doubt have heaped upon her.

  She had also adamantly overruled her parents' objections to a civil ceremony. There was no way Kate could have uttered the beautiful words of the marriage service, not in these circumstances. Greg had had the gall to attempt to persuade her to change her mind. Sheer bloody-mindedness! she had raged at him. How he could even contemplate swearing those kind of vows was beyond her.

  For once, Kate won—backed by her father, however reluctantly, when she declared how hypocritical it would be to use the Church for her own ends when she was not a regular attendant. Callum McNaught was not the man to deny a principle, however painful it proved to live with.

  Only one portion of the ceremony remained clear in Kate's mind. The rest was a mere blur. The moment Greg had slipped the plain gold band on her finger. He had stared at it intently for several seconds with fiercely possessive satisfaction before placing his cool lips upon her unresponsive mouth.

  `If you want to sulk for the rest of the journey, Kate, I suggest you get in the back and try to get some sleep,' Greg bit out tersely, dragging her mind back to the present. He was patently displeased by her pale features and shadowed eyes. 'You look as if you could use it!'

  `I have never sulked in my life!' The retort sprang automatically to her lips. It had become a point of honour not to allow his sneers to pass unchallenged. 'If I have anything to say, then I say it!'

  `Yes,' he murmured, shooting her a dry glance, 'I had noticed.' He caught her resisting hand in his and raised it to his lips to press an openmouthed kiss into the palm. Kate shuddered. Apart from that one cool kiss at the register office, this was the first time he had touched her with any intimacy since that dreadful debacle at her home. 'My apologies, sweet Kate. It is indeed my good fortune to possess such a paragon among women!'

  Mocking devil! And Kate had spent the best part of the morning contemplating the shocking idea that she might possibly have fallen in love with him! At that precise moment she could not truthfully say she even desired him. He was a stranger, a cold-eyed, remote stranger who, in a painfully short time, would be taking her to bed!

  Without another word, she removed herself to the back of the car and wearily closed her eyes. She had never felt so tired in her life.

  The past few weeks had taken quite a toll. She had lost weight, her cheekbones stood out a little too prominently in her pale face. Her eyes, the mirrors of her eagerness and zest for life, had dulled.

  Fortunately she had been able to put some of the blame on

  her short illness, but her mother naturally hit on the truth.

  `Bridal jitters!' she announced firmly when Kate once

  complained of her lack of energy.

  Oh, yes, jittery was the word all right. Her nerves were shot to pieces. Insanity also sprang to mind, alongside suicidal. Anger was also a definite contender.

  It almost consumed her at times, being forced to admit defeat in the face of Greg's clever conniving. And then—then there was the fear.

  Not fear of Greg personally—nothing as simple as that. She feared the things he could make her feel, the things he forced her to acknowledge about herself. She feared the quick, uncontrollable flow of adrenalin whenever she caught sight of him

  But, for most of the short period of their engagement, Kate had embraced the fatalistic numbness which had anaesthetised her from the more disturbing aspects of her coming marriage. Except for one telling incident which slipped through, and had kept her tossing and turning for the past two nights, and which inevitably came back to haunt her anew.

  Two nights ago Greg had escorted her to a party held in their honour by his best man, Sam Goodis. Kate had halfheartedly welcomed the opportunity to get to know Marie better.

  `I always knew you'd get caught in the trap one day, lad!' Sam clapped Greg heartily on the back in welcome, his faint Yorkshire accent in evidence.

  `Trap indeed!' his wife piped up in mock indignation. 'It's the women who are left in the cage, remember?'

  But despite any traps or cages, it was obvious the couple were devoted to each other, and Kate happily allowed Marie to usher her upsta
irs to freshen up, with none of the reserve she normally felt with people she did not know well.

  `This is a perfect house for parties,' Kate commented as they entered a large bedroom. 'So many rooms for little groups to congregate.'

  `I know. I love it here,' Marie agreed with all the enthusiasm Kate had guessed she possessed. 'Sam thought I was crazy buying such a big house for the two of us, but I do

  adore parties! And I'm especially going to enjoy this one.' She grasped Kate's hand tightly, her warm face glowing with sincerity. 'I can't tell you how pleased I am that Greg has finally allowed someone like you to love him!' Hazel eyes brimming with tears of happiness did not see Kate's sudden frown at such an odd pronouncement. 'You'll be so good for him, Kate!'

  `But you hardly know me, Marie,' Kate could not help but protest.

  `Oh, bosh! Sam's talked a lot about you. And I know enough about people to sense that you're marrying the man, not the cheque book!' Marie clapped a hand over her mouth in dismay. 'Forgive me, Kate—I have a runaway tongue. But Greg is very special to me.'

  `You've known him a long time, haven't you?' Kate said thoughtfully.

  `Since he was a little lad of eight or nine. He didn't tell you?' Marie asked; noticing Kate's surprise.

  `No—he . . . This was all a bit sudden, you know. He . . small white teeth worried at her lower lip, 'he doesn't talk much about his past.'

  Marie sobered instantly. No—well, that's hardly surprising. We moved next door to the Courtneys when Sam and I first got married. Ben—that's Greg's father—and Sam used to work down the mines together. In fact, Sam saved Ben's life. There was a cave-in at the pit, you see.' Marie shuddered at what was patently a painful memory. 'Sam got Ben out, but the poor man's legs were crushed so badly he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Believe me, I'll never be able to repay Greg for getting us out of that life.'

  Kate sat silently, frightened to interrupt lest Marie stopped completely, and also a little frightened to have her continue, as her anger towards Greg softened with this fresh insight into his past.

  `Greg worshipped Ben,' Marie continued, almost to herself. 'It used to break my heart to see that child caring for his father so diligently after the accident.'

  `What happened to his mother?' Kate held her breath in suspense. She knew it could be nothing good, judging from

  Greg's own reaction to the same question. Marie gave a guilty start.

  `I shouldn't be talking like this, should I?'

  `Please . . .' Kate urged, gripping Marie's hand tightly. 'I promise I won't tell him, but—I need to know!'

  `Yes.' Marie's face softened, understanding Kate's urgency. 'Yes, you probably will. You haven't chosen an easy man to love, Kate. But he'll be worth everything you give him.

  `Sharon Courtney was a first-class, top-notch, grade A selfish bitch! And Ben was besotted with her. The last I heard she was living in South Africa with her fourth or fifth husband—I lost count. Greg hasn't seen her since he packed his bags and walked out. He was sixteen. He always kept in touch with us, though, and as soon as he bought out Grainger he sent for Sam. He never forgets a favour—Hey, come on! Take that glum look off your face! This is a party!'

  `Right.' It wasn't that hard for Kate to force a smile to her lips. Marie's gaiety was contagious. And she was so happy for the man Kate could see she looked upon as a son, Kate did not even contemplate disillusioning her with the real reason for this hastily arranged marriage.

  And thankfully, there was no time to digest the information she had been given, except to subtly alter one of the words she had always used to describe Greg. 'Self-sufficient' disturbingly became 'lonely'.

  `Kate—what a lovely dress! And what a figure!' Marie glanced down at her own ample proportions and grimaced comically. 'I console myself with the thought that Sam likes curves in a woman—and I've certainly got enough'

  Of those to keep him satisfied!'

  They descended the stairs laughing. Kate was pleased Marie thought she was suitably attired. Greg had offered to buy her a new dress for the occasion, but Kate had refused, preferring to wear her favourite green, despite the bittersweet memories it provoked. Judging by the gathering arrivals, it appeared to be an 'anything goes' kind of party—some people sported jeans, others were in dinner jackets. Greg had steered a middle course of dark brown

  suede trousers, teamed with a lighter brown open-necked shirt.

  The doorbell chimed as they were halfway down the staircase, announcing the arrival of yet more guests. Sam opened the door with a cheery 'hello'.

  `Damn!' Marie startled Kate with the vehemence of her oath. She was becoming used to the older woman speaking in exclamations, but that 'damn' had sounded positively evil. `Who the hell invited her?'

  Kate followed the direction of Marie's malevolent glare to witness the arrival of a long-legged blonde, attractive in an obvious way, Kate decided, her green eyes glowing cattily. It did not take a mind-reader to work out the reason for her hostess's discomfort.

  `One of Greg's exes, I presume?' she murmured drily, not wanting Marie to think she was upset.

  `I'm afraid so.'

  `How do you suppose she keeps that dress on, Marie?' Kate asked in genuine bewilderment. The scarlet silk revealed a lot more than it concealed.

  `That, I suspect, is between her and her Maker! It looks as if she was sewn into the thing! I'm sorry about this, Kate. We certainly didn't invite her, but you can bet your life I'll find out who did and make mincemeat of him!' Kate spared a moment's sympathy for the unwitting culprit. Marie was looking quite fierce. She was rather touched that Marie should so soon feel friendly enough to become her champion. All her sympathy vanished, however, when she caught sight of Toby Marchant's taunting face as he took hold of the blonde's arm.

  Kate studiously avoided them, until Greg made it impossible for her to do so by leading her over to the couple. Though he must have sensed her reluctance.

  `Kate—darling, I'd like you to meet an old—friend of mine, Caroline Sterling. Caroline—my fiancée, Katherine McNaught.'

  Kate was inspected and clearly dismissed as a nonentity with a limp handshake. Then the blonde wrapped herself around Greg and trilled up at him, 'More than old friends,

  darling. But I suppose I shouldn't say that in front of your—fiancee.'

  His left eyebrow arched—just a touch. But enough to tell Kate he was amused rather than offended.

  `No, Caroline, you shouldn't. But I don't suppose that will stop you,' he drawled.

  `How well you know me!' Blue eyes sparkled brightly, clearly delighted. Toby Marchant, a little wiser these days, took one look at Kate's blank expression, and stepped back a pace. 'Tell me, darling, what have you been doing with yourself? It seems positively ages since we last—got together.' A brief suggestive look was thrown in Kate's direction.

  `I've been persuading Kate to marry me, Caroline,' said Greg, firmly dissociating himself from the blonde's innuendoes. He underlined his intent by adding, 'And I would hate for you to undo all my good work.'

  His eyes glinted a warning. Caroline pouted prettily, but loosened her hold on him, her scarlet talons now resting on his arm rather than cutting off his blood circulation.

  `You must let me in on your secret, Katy.' Kate did not even wince at the hated nickname. Toby Marchant disappeared into the surrounding crowd. 'I've been trying to hook this gorgeous man for years.'

  `Really?' Kate spoke for the first time, allowing her eyes to widen in simulated amazement. Caroline's insolent scrutiny of her slender body, obviously searching for signs of pregnancy, tipped her—just a little—over the edge. She totally ignored Greg's sharp intake of breath and slowly raised her left hand to smooth back an imaginary loose strand of hair, but making sure the diamonds surrounding the sparkling emerald in her engagement ring caught the light. It glinted mockingly. Then she leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. 'Perhaps it's time to change the bait? Oh, do excuse me!' She glided past Gre
g. 'One of my old friends has just arrived!'

  Blindly she made her way towards Terry, who was just introducing himself, and the girl at his side, to Marie.

  `Hi, princess! This is Candy . .

  `Cindy,' the small but perfectly formed blonde corrected

  with the air of having done it so many times before. But she still gazed adoringly at Terry. 'I'll just go and freshen up. Don't go away now.'

  `Gee, Terry, I'm glad to see you're gaining a little discrimination at last.' Terry looked blankly at Kate. 'This one can walk and talk at the same time!'

  `OK, out with it, sweetheart!' he laughed. 'What's turned my sweet little princess into a sour-faced bitch?'

  `Well, I wouldn't go that far,' Marie put in. 'But you do look a little frayed around the edges, dear.'

  `Well, that's a relief !' Kate let out a heartfelt sigh, her uncertain temper evaporating in the warmth of her friend's concern. 'I thought at the very least, smoke would be pouring out of my ears!' She gave a disarmingly frank grin. 'Sorry, Tel, I'm sure Candy . .

  `Cindy.'

  . . is a very nice girl.'

  `Oh, I do so hope you're wrong, princess!'

  Their uninhibited laughter drew many curious glances, not the least of which was a narrow-eyed stare from the tall dark man coming up behind Kate.

  `Care to share the joke?' Kate automatically stiffened as a heavy hand descended on her shoulder, Greg's deep voice vibrating over her head.

  `Just telling our favourite gatecrasher tales,' Marie unknowingly fanned the flames with a mischievously guileless twinkle in her eye. 'Of course, we've never had a barracuda push her way in before . .