The Marriage Takeover

by Lee Wilkinson

  She only appreciated that she was naked to the waist when his hand moved to cradle the warm weight of her breast, and his mouth left hers to rove over the exposed curves.

  He used the tip of his tongue to circle and stroke the dusky pink skin around the nipple before his mouth closed over the waiting peak.

  The exquisite, needle-sharp sensations his suckling was causing brought a little whimper to her lips, an involuntary protest against sensual overload.

  Yet when he made to draw away, suddenly bereft, she slid her fingers into the thick corn-silk of his hair and pulled his head down to hers.

  While one hand roamed over her slender curves, he began to kiss her as though he was starving for her. With no thought of holding back, she clung to him, her arms around his neck.

  His exploration of her mouth was thorough and unhurried and deeply sensual, the brush of his tongue against her lips utterly devastating.

  Through a rising storm of desire she was aware of a knock, and a bare second later she heard the door behind her open.

  Lang lifted his head and straightened, holding her protectively against him.

  Hot with embarrassment, she expected an explosion of anger against whichever member of staff had dared to walk in without waiting for permission.

  But in complete silence, his manner cool and unhurried, Lang proceeded to adjust her dress, pull up the zip, and fasten the halter neck. Then, his hands lightly gripping her upper arms, he turned her to face the intruder.

  Transfixed in the doorway, his mouth open, his expression a study in stunned disbelief, Alan was standing as though turned to stone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FOR what seemed an age, no one spoke, then the newcomer found his voice and cried, ‘What the devil’s going on?’

  ‘I should have thought that was quite plain,’ Lang replied evenly.

  Reluctant to confront the other man, Alan turned his fury on Cassandra. ‘Why in heaven’s name were you letting him maul you about like that?’

  ‘She wasn’t just letting me,’ Lang pointed out with infuriating calm, ‘but actively cooperating. Though I prefer the expression “make love to” rather than “maul about”.’

  Pulling herself free from his restraining hands, Cassandra took a step towards Alan and began hoarsely, ‘I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘Surely all this isn’t because I left without saying goodbye?’ he demanded.

  ‘No, of course it isn’t.’

  ‘Then why? I didn’t think you even liked him.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, close to tears. ‘I wanted to break it to you gently… I didn’t want you to find out like this…’

  ‘I bet you didn’t! After the way you’ve always kept me at arm’s length!’

  As though further enraged by the thought, his face turned beetroot-red and he rushed on, ‘You were so damned cool I’d started to wonder if you were frigid, when you agreed to that weekend in Paris… And still it came to nothing…

  ‘Then, when you told me about that earlier unsavoury incident, I must admit it made me think twice about marrying you…

  ‘It isn’t the kind of thing anyone would want their future wife to have been mixed up in… And it could well have been your own fault. I only heard one version of the story. You could have been making your own side right…

  ‘I wondered at the time whether you’d been leading him on, asking for trouble, and now I’m—’

  White to the lips, she broke in, ‘I was doing no such thing! And if you felt like that why didn’t you say so and ask for your ring back?’

  ‘It would have made things difficult with you working for me. We’ve always been a good team and I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I decided to forgive you—’

  ‘You decided to forgive me!’ She faced him with a fury equal to his own. ‘For what? For something I didn’t do?’

  But, ignoring the interruption, he snarled, ‘And this is how you repay me! With the wedding only a week away, I thought I could trust you. But you’ve humiliated me, made me look a complete fool…

  ‘And I still don’t know why, what I’ve ever done to deserve it… The very least I’m entitled to is an explanation… Though nothing you can say will excuse that kind of behaviour…

  ‘When we got engaged I believed that as well as beauty and brains you had class… I thought you’d make a good wife and a marvellous hostess, be a real asset to my career… But I can see now that I made a terrible mistake. I’ve no intention of going through with the wedding, and I want my ring back.’

  Then, disgust and loathing mingling, he said, ‘No man can be expected to forgive his fiancée for acting like some trollop… If I hadn’t arrived when I did you’d no doubt have ended up in bed together—’

  ‘That’s quite enough.’ Lang’s curt order cut through the tirade, stopping it dead. With quiet authority he went on, ‘Now you’ll listen to me. I agree that you’re entitled to an explanation, and I’m prepared to give you one. But first I must insist that you withdraw that remark about acting like a trollop, and apologize to Cassandra.’

  Looking sullen and at a disadvantage, Alan hesitated.

  His face and voice steely, Lang added, ‘We both appreciate that you feel ill-used and angry, and to some extent that anger is justified. But had you known all the facts I’m quite sure you would have refrained from saying any such thing.’

  Unable to stand up against the other man’s cool authority, Alan muttered ungraciously, ‘Very well, I apologize.’

  With a brief nod, Lang continued, ‘Now, these are the facts. Firstly, Cassandra is no longer your fiancée, and no longer wearing your ring. So you may certainly have it back…’

  Feeling in his pocket, Lang produced the diamond cluster and tossed it to Alan, who caught it on a reflex action.

  ‘Secondly, as Cassandra is my wife, we have every right to make love in the privacy of our own suite, and go to bed together as and when we wish.’

  Watching the other man’s flabbergasted face, Lang lifted Cassandra’s hand to display the wedding ring. ‘We were married this afternoon at San Miguel.

  ‘I realize that, happening so suddenly, all this must have come as a shock, but I have to emphasize that Cassandra is in no way to blame. She wanted to wait and speak to you first, but I was impatient to make her my wife and I swept her off her feet, so to speak.’

  ‘I—I don’t understand,’ Alan stammered. ‘You’ve only just met.’

  ‘Surely you’ve heard the rather hackneyed phrase “love at first sight”?’

  ‘But Cass loves…loved…’ he stumbled over his tenses ‘…me…’

  ‘She thought she did,’ Lang said flatly. ‘Obviously you both made a mistake, so it’s just as well things have resolved themselves.’ Briskly, he added, ‘In view of all that’s happened it might make sense to concentrate on your career for a while…’

  At the word ‘career’ Alan made a visible effort to pull himself together, clearly wondering what effect the turn of events and his subsequent outburst had had on his future prospects.

  Having made his point, with perfect timing Lang produced the sop. ‘Though you are still one of the youngest departmental heads in my organization you’ve already proved your worth. Bearing that in mind, I’ve a proposition to put to you… If you intend to stay with Dalton International, that is?’

  Recalling her earlier concern, Cassandra held her breath. No matter what, Alan was still an innocent party in all this and, as such, she didn’t want him to lose out.

  A moment later any worries that he might throw it all away were set at rest as he answered, ‘W-well, yes, I—’

  ‘Then come and have a drink at the bar, and I’ll tell you what my plans are.’

  Lang’s manner was civil, bordering on affable as, leaving Cassandra standing cold and numb, he ushered the younger man to the door.

  Since his forced apology, Alan hadn’t once looked in her direction, and she had the feeling that he had already erased her from his life as
easily as one might erase a printed mistake from a computer screen.

  His hand on the knob, Lang turned to give her a measured glance, before closing the door quietly behind them.

  She felt limp and battered, like a survivor from some disaster. Trembling in every limb, she sank on to the nearest chair and stared blindly into space while the unpleasant little scene replayed itself over and over again in her mind.

  It was a while before the trembling stopped and she was able to get a grip on herself and begin to put her thoughts into some kind of order.

  One thing at least was clear: Lang had been right in his assessment of the situation. Alan had felt betrayed, justifiably furious and resentful, but he’d shown no signs of being seriously hurt, and he hadn’t once mentioned love.

  She had fondly imagined that the Paris trip, and knowing about Sean, had strengthened their relationship, but she’d been quite wrong. His angry revelations had made that only too plain.

  The fact that he’d walked in and found her in Lang’s arms had obviously confirmed his earlier suspicion that she might have led Sean on.

  But if he could think that, if he’d learnt so little about her true character, he’d never really known her.

  He’d told her, when he’d first proposed to her, that she was just the kind of wife for an up-and-coming young executive. Though she had been pleased and flattered, all she’d needed to know was that he cared.

  When he’d added, ‘I love you. You’re the only girl in the world for me,’ she had thought herself the luckiest of women.

  There was an old saying ‘There’s none so blind as those that will not see’. In her need for love and affection she had closed her eyes to any doubts and uncertainties, and convinced herself that he really did care. Now she knew she had been deluding herself from the first.

  Discovering just how unfeeling and self-centred he could be had come as an unpleasant surprise. Yet in an odd sort of way it had also come as a relief, absolving her from some of the guilt she’d felt.

  But if he hadn’t walked in on them like that and been shocked into total honesty she would have continued to…

  Cassandra’s train of thought came to an abrupt halt. How had he been able to just walk in like that? Why hadn’t whoever was on the desk announced his arrival?

  Her mind went back to that awful moment. She had stood paralyzed, startled out of her wits, while Lang had appeared cool and unruffled, almost as if he’d expected Alan to walk in on them…

  She jumped as the door opened and Lang strolled in, looking, to her jaundiced eye, unbearably smug and self-satisfied.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know that everything went smoothly,’ he reported. ‘Brent’s on his way back to the airport without, apparently, too many regrets.

  ‘In fact he seemed relieved to have come out of it so well. He’s already started planning his new life in Switzerland and—’

  Noting Cassandra’s stony face, he broke off and lifted a well-marked brow. ‘You don’t look at all happy.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Decided you’ve sacrificed too much for him?’

  Ignoring the taunt, she said, ‘Alan was able to just walk in. I’d like to know how.’

  ‘Ah… So that’s what’s bugging you.’

  ‘Why didn’t the desk let us know when he got here?’

  In no way perturbed, Lang admitted, ‘Because I asked Stephens to send him straight up.’

  Her green eyes flashed. ‘You knew what time he was arriving, and you started to make love to me on purpose! You wanted him to walk in and find me in your arms… How could you be so cruel?’

  Standing looking down at her, his face implacable, Lang said evenly, ‘There’s no kind way to tell a man you’ve taken the woman he presumes is his. Rather than trying to spare his feelings, and be faced with endless questions or a long-drawn-out post-mortem, I decided it would easier for everyone to let him see how things were. One picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say.

  ‘I wondered if he might be man enough to wade in and try to punch me on the nose. I’d have respected him a damn sight more if he had. Instead, he took it out on you. In a way I’m sorry about that. But if he’d merely been hurt and wretched you would have felt upset, riddled with guilt, despite the fact that you’d done it all for him.

  ‘At least he showed his true colours and made you angry in your turn. In my opinion being angry is preferable to being miserable.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so.’

  ‘It’s sad to be disillusioned,’ he admitted soberly, ‘but knowing the truth has to be better than being married to a man who regards you simply as a career accessory.’

  Resentment and a raw hurt assaulted her equally, then almost immediately fell back to leave only a kind of dull despair.

  What Lang had said was true. But, having lived through a loveless childhood, she wanted, needed warmth and affection, and it was bitter to think that for the sake of one man who didn’t love her she had married another man who didn’t love her.

  Lifting her chin, she met his eyes and asked trenchantly, ‘And what do you regard me as?’

  Just for a moment he looked ruffled, disconcerted. Then he queried, ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think I’m nothing but a temporary whim.’

  Lang’s jaw tightened. ‘Oh, a little more than that. At the very least an obsession.’

  An obsession… The word hung on the air. Believing him, Cassandra shuddered.

  What was it about her? she wondered bleakly. For the second time in her life, she had become the innocent victim of a man’s obsession.

  Though perhaps in Sean’s case not entirely innocent. It was true she had never led him on, at least not intentionally, but she should have seen where such obsessiveness was leading and broken things off before it got out of hand.

  Penny had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t fully appreciated the danger, and had been loath to take the kind of drastic action her friend had advocated.

  By the time she had admitted that something would have to be done, it had been too late.

  She shivered again. The memories were like a bruise on her soul.

  Seeing that betraying movement and her loss of colour, Lang said, ‘But that’s enough soul-searching. Let’s unwind with a glass of champagne and some music.’

  A moment later the room was filled with the haunting strains of an old Jerome Kern melody.

  Having eased out the champagne cork and poured the still smoking wine, Lang handed her a glass, and sat down beside her.

  She had a sudden vivid memory of Sean turning up on her doorstep that awful night with a bottle of champagne…

  Lang’s arm slid around her shoulders, breaking into her thoughts. Still half trapped in the past, she froze. Feeling her stiffen, he asked lightly, ‘Still angry?’ His hand moved to caress the line of her jaw. ‘Let’s forget everything but—’

  Jumping up, she dropped the champagne glass, which spilt its contents and rolled across the carpet. ‘Leave me alone!’

  He rose to his feet and, picking up her glass, put that and his own on the coffee table, before saying flatly, ‘In case it’s slipped your mind, we were married today, and this is our wedding night.’

  Every nerve in her body tightening in alarm, she backed away, her hands flung out to ward him off. ‘I don’t want to sleep with you.’

  ‘I could understand this show of reluctance if you hadn’t slept with me before. But last night you were more than willing.’

  Through stiff lips she said, ‘Last night was different.’

  ‘Why? I’m just the same man, except that now I’m your husband.’

  She shook her head in mute rejection.

  Softly, dangerously, he pointed out, ‘You agreed to be my wife.’

  ‘I was blackmailed into it.’

  ‘You could have told me to go to hell… Almost any other woman would have.’

  ‘I—I couldn’t leave Alan to face—’

  Lang laughe
d harshly. ‘Did you really believe I’d ruin Brent? Did you, Cassandra?’

  Wanting to say yes, she hesitated, unable to. She had told herself she couldn’t risk it, but had she ever truly believed he would go to those lengths?

  His dark blue eyes intent, Lang pursued, ‘Wasn’t it that, after last night, you’d realized Brent wasn’t the man for you, and you wanted to marry me?’

  Had she at some strange, subconscious level wanted to marry him? She had fooled herself into believing that Alan loved her. Had she also fooled herself into believing that this was a forced marriage?

  Possibly, because she knew he’d loved his wife and he didn’t love her, she’d needed an excuse for what the sane side of her would have regarded as utter madness…

  ‘No, it certainly wasn’t.’ To hide her sudden doubts she made her denial more emphatic.

  With a sigh of exasperation, Lang said curtly, ‘Well, even if I’m wrong, I’m keeping my part of the bargain and I expect you to keep yours.’

  Looking into a face that held no sign of tenderness or compassion, she saw another man’s ruthless face mirrored there.

  Panic took a fresh hold. ‘No, I can’t go through with it. I don’t want you to touch me.’

  ‘You didn’t feel like that earlier.’

  Lifting her chin, she cried defiantly, ‘Well, I do now!’

  A white line appeared around his mouth. ‘Before Brent turned up I could have taken you to bed and made love to you, and you’d have responded whole-heartedly. If this sudden rejection is just to get back at me, it won’t work.’

  For an instant she thought of trying to explain, but he was obviously in no mood to listen to reason.

  ‘I’ve no intention of letting you play hard to get. I want you in my bed and I want the marriage consummated…’

  Lang Dalton didn’t care about her feelings as a woman. He was just like Sean. The old nightmare had come alive again.

  She began to shiver violently, the defiant façade cracked wide open.

  His eyes narrowing on her paper-white face, Lang said abruptly, ‘For God’s sake don’t look like that!’