Tell Me No Lies

by Shirley Wine

  ‘Logan and I are friends.’ Vinegar edged the honey in her voice, and her pointed, little chin lifted a fraction.

  Friends? Friends? The thought was enough to make him see red, literally.

  ‘Tell me, Keir, where did Seth Donahue disappear to?’

  He cursed the heat running up his neck to his face. ‘I had my reasons back then, good reasons. So why are you here at Darkhaven?’

  She smiled, not the warm, genuine smile of his memories, but one that held an edge of scorn. ‘Would you believe I wanted to put in a bid to do the flowers for your wedding? I came here to present my credentials and portfolio to your bride.’

  She what?

  Suddenly, he could see an image of Victoria fussing around Davina, pulling at a flower here and tweaking a flower there, and all the while he was remembering ...

  That image was enough to make his brain explode, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘I’m sure Davina will welcome an amateur messing with her wedding.’

  ‘Amateur?’ Victoria’s head came up and her eyes turned molten gold. It was a miracle her fury didn’t char him to a cinder where he stood.

  ‘I’m no amateur, Keir.’ The frigid words battered him like giant hailstones. ‘Nor does Victorian Grace produce unprofessional work.’

  She turned and stalked across the room.

  Good God!

  Deceptively demure in the front, that sexy little number had no damn back. He could see the dimples in her spine just above her delectable derrière. What the hell did she have on underneath it? All his blood went south and his libido chose that moment to sit up and say hello, remember me? Logan would have to battle every randy dog, himself included, to keep their hands off Victoria in that gown.

  Shit! I do not need this.

  The sound of a portfolio being slammed onto the hideous green bedspread jerked his wayward thoughts back into line.

  ‘Name one single thing about these floral arrangements that is either substandard or amateurish.’

  The martial light in her eyes had him obeying the summons. He walked across to the bed and looked down at the photos. Even to his jaundiced eye, he could see they were superb. He held up both hands. ‘Okay. Okay. I apologise. But I sincerely doubt Davina would welcome one of my ex-lovers being in any way involved with our wedding.’

  Victoria’s eyes went dark and her generous lips curved into a smile that ratcheted up his wariness by several notches.

  ‘But, Keir, that could surely pose a real difficulty,’ her feline purr made every hair on his body stand to attention. ‘If you were to omit every one of your former lovers from your wedding, could you find enough people to do the catering?’

  Ouch! The little sex kitten had grown claws. The breath he sucked in was loud in the pregnant stillness. ‘You are so very funny, Victoria.’

  ‘And you, Keir Donovan, are a lying bastard.’

  ‘Touché!’ He flung up a hand and heat surged up his neck again. ‘So why not cut to the chase? Why are you here at Darkhaven? Are you out for revenge?’

  ‘Revenge?’

  Good. She looked suitably taken aback and he mocked softly, ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.’

  Where was all this bitter anger coming from? Anyone would think he’d taken advantage of her. His memories were obviously different to hers. She may have been a virgin, but she’d very quickly become a sex kitten, and one with a kinky bent at that. Was she ashamed of the past and trying to rewrite history? Cynicism replaced his wariness. And I thought she was different.

  ‘What’s to forget? As a man you’re so very forgettable.’

  The disdain dripping from her voice rubbed against his temper. He took a step towards her, his fist clenched. But he became enmeshed in the jarring familiarity of the fragrance that swirled around her and it made his heart stall and then thunder in his chest.

  She still wore the same perfume, one he would recognise anywhere.

  He remembered presenting her with her very first flacon of that particular French perfume, and she still used it? Disbelief mingled with far less civilised thoughts. The image of other men enjoying her body bathed in that perfume was enough to drive him insane. That such anger was irrational made him all the more ready to lash out. Keir prided himself on his self-control, yet a few minutes with Victoria exposed huge cracks in this facade.

  ‘Have you told Logan you’ve been my lover?’ he asked harshly.

  ‘Really, Keir, why would I do that?’ she asked, giving a derisive little sniff.

  Suddenly, the ticking of the wall clock was overly loud, and the muscles in his jaw ached as he fought emotions careening out of control. Watching her stand there, a knowing smile curving her lips, pushed all his buttons. ‘Don’t be tempted to cause trouble this weekend.’

  She touched a slender finger to the corner of her mouth, and the provocative gesture threatened to send his blood pressure off the charts. ‘What sort of trouble do you have in mind?’

  The sultry purr sent heat surging up his neck and his blood down south. ‘Don’t use my sins to hurt Logan.’

  That garnered a response as anger and some other dark emotion swirled in her eyes. ‘I would never hurt your stepbrother.’

  He cut her off. ‘He’s in love with you.’

  Surprise, shock and then derision crossed her expressive face in quick succession. ‘That’s rich, coming from a family who’s pressuring Logan to marry and cement a financial merger. I’ve told him I won’t marry him.’

  ‘If that’s the case then why in hell are you here?’ Frustrated beyond bearing, Keir leaned past her and picked up a comb from the dresser and bent it between his fingers.

  ‘Because I was invited as Logan’s guest.’

  Her amusement made him apply savage pressure to the comb. Afraid he’d break it, he flung it back onto the dresser. ‘It would be better for everyone concerned if you made some excuse and left.’

  It was rude and ungracious, and his father would have his head on a platter if he heard Keir speak to any guest this way, but Keir was beyond caring. He wanted this woman and the temptation she presented gone from Darkhaven and his life.

  ‘Better for whom?’ she asked sweetly. ‘You? Your adoring fiancée? Your oh-so-charming stepmother?’

  Despite the hot, furious anger that coursed darkly through his veins, the thought of Victoria falling foul of Muriel made him nervous and he needed to warn her. ‘There’s nothing charming about Muriel, Victoria. Forget that at your peril.’

  ‘You mean she doesn’t pander to your ego? How devastating for you,’ she said with a mocking laugh. ‘Tell me, do you make a habit of seducing virgins using the safety net of a bogus name?’

  Her claws were well and truly out, and she wasn’t averse to drawing blood. He scowled at her. ‘Nothing about that holiday gives me pleasure.’

  Her chin jerked and her eyes went dark. ‘Would your fiancée, or father, be so understanding?’

  Her words slammed against old hurts and a crap-load of guilt, making him grip her shoulders so hard she winced. ‘Are you trying to blackmail me?’

  She yanked free of his hold as she said through clenched teeth, ‘Now there’s a thought, but I don’t deal in lies or underhand behaviour.’

  He smiled a smile his adversaries in the business world knew well. ‘Did you imagine you could come here and make capital out of our little summer fling?’

  It was cruel, and when he saw the stricken expression she couldn’t quite disguise he felt a momentary pang of regret, but Victoria needed to understand that she had no future with him. Eventually, she would thank him. He was committed to Davina and a settled future.

  Victoria stiffened, and she lifted her chin to respond in kind. ‘Really, Keir, why on earth would I choose to publicise what I now realise was a dismal and unmemorable little affair?’

  The contemptuous words made fury fizz through his veins. He caught her shoulders again before she could evade him and hauled her close against his chest.
He felt rather than heard her shocked intake of breath.

  ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Unmemorable?’ He subdued her struggles with devastating ease and lifted her chin. ‘You think ours was a dismal affair?’ The last word was swallowed as he crushed her mouth beneath his, consumed by an ungovernable rage.

  ***

  Too late, Victoria regretted her scornful wounding of Keir’s male pride, and she was more than a little shocked by his violence and the haze of anger swirling around him. When he lifted his head, her lips were numb and swollen and her throat ached with unshed tears. As he looked at her his expression softened and his dark eyes filled with guilt and regret.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, touching a finger to her lips. ‘That was uncalled for.’

  His fingers slid along her jaw, tilting her face, the gentleness of his touch overwhelming all thoughts of resistance. She looked up at him through her lashes, and for one long moment their gazes met and the air between them shimmered.

  She took a quick, shallow breath.

  With a soft imprecation, he reclaimed her mouth in a kiss so tender and gentle and so exquisitely sweet, she was lost. She forgot everything except the need to get even closer, a need that time had never erased. Fire raced through her veins, fizzing and dancing as it skipped along remembered pathways.

  Her insides melted as heat pooled in her belly.

  Keir’s grip tightened until she was crushed against his chest and the fabric of her gown abraded nipples pebbled with desire.

  His arms unlocked and large hands framed her face as he slowly lifted his head. He studied her face through half-closed eyelids before he dropped tiny, intoxicating kisses all over her face.

  ‘Still the same seductive little witch,’ he said, a husky thread of arousal lingering in his voice.

  He released her. Shattered by her body’s response to his kisses, Victoria could only stare at him, unable to think or react. She took shallow, ragged breaths that did nothing to calm her agitation. Finally, she turned away from him, covering her hot cheeks with trembling hands. How could she return his kisses with such wanton abandon when he was committed to another woman?

  What does that say about me?

  ‘Get out of my room, Seth.’ Her voice trembled, but she refused to look at him, afraid of what she would reveal.

  ‘It’s Keir, sweetheart. And I’m going.’

  He crossed to the door and paused, hand on the knob.

  Sensing the heat of his regard, she lifted her head and looked at him in the mirror. For long, endless moments their gazes met and held.

  And then he was gone.

  Slowly, she dared to look at her reflection. Damn him!

  Alone, with that closet door yanked wide open, and filled with an aching need she didn’t know how to satisfy, Victoria could do nothing to stop all the messy emotions spilling around her feet, emotions she’d bottled up for years.

  God help me, I can only pray they don’t trip me up.

  She sighed, a soft, tormented sound, as she was forced to confront the bleak self-knowledge of just why she had so steadfastly refused Logan’s proposals.

  Chapter Three

  A knock on the door wrenched Victoria from her frozen trance.

  ‘Victoria?’

  Logan.

  One glance in the mirror at her hectic colour and kiss-stung lips, and heat flooded her entire body. With a despairing sigh, she covered her hot cheeks with trembling hands. She could still feel the press of Keir’s mouth on hers. Excitement and anticipation zinged in the air and burned through her veins with its heady elixir of danger.

  Another tap on the door jerked her back to reality. ‘One moment.’

  Get a grip, my girl, get a grip. Keir’s engaged to another woman, remember.

  As if she could forget.

  Her hand shook as she reapplied lip gloss, and after unsuccessfully trying to corral strands of hair that had worked loose from her hairdo, she gave up and left them to fall in wisps around her face. Several slow, deep breaths did little to calm her hectic pulse, and she smoothed trembling hands down her gown.

  ‘Thank goodness silk doesn’t crush,’ she muttered, and unable to delay a moment longer, she opened the door.

  Logan stared at her in silence for several moments. ‘My god, Victoria, you’re so beautiful.’

  In that moment she understood Keir’s disquiet, but any involvement with Logan was dead in the water. She needed to distance herself from him. Fast. Somehow she dredged up a smile. ‘You don’t often see me dressed up, is all.’

  ‘Something I intend to change.’

  ‘Logan.’ She stayed him and lifted a hand to his face. ‘Please don’t. I appreciate the honour, but I won’t change my mind.’

  And if it was never an option before I knew my Seth was your stepbrother, it’s even less of an option now.

  Logan covered her hand with his and for a moment closed his eyes.

  ‘Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s brave the hordes,’ he quipped, and with a proprietary hand beneath her elbow he escorted her downstairs.

  The murmur of voices grew louder as they walked down the corridor and entered the high-ceilinged gathering room where women dressed in rich colours mingled with more soberly—but no less expensively—dressed men in dark suits, white shirts and bow ties. Apart from Logan, Victoria knew no-one.

  He steered her toward an elderly couple, the man dressed in a tweed suit that had seen better days. The old man stood out like a barnyard fowl among peacocks.

  ‘My uncle and aunt, Dan and Gloria Sinclair,’ Logan said as he gripped the old man’s gnarled hand and kissed his aunt’s cheek. ‘Dan is my natural dad’s brother.’

  Victoria gave Logan a swift, veiled glance at this unexpected reference to his biological father, something he’d never done before. ‘I can see a family resemblance.’

  The old man’s smile was warm and genuine. Ignoring her outstretched hand, he pulled her into a spontaneous hug, kissing her cheek. The scent of peppermint overlaid with mothballs clung to him, filling her senses. Emerging breathless from the hug, she couldn’t help thinking that this would be Logan forty years from now. The likeness between the two men was uncanny.

  ‘My, my, aren’t you a pretty filly,’ Dan boomed as he held her at arm’s length. ‘Where did Logan find you?’

  ‘Would you believe in a hospital?’ Heat rose in her cheeks, but she couldn’t help laughing at his audacity.

  ‘How is it that I can never meet a pretty filly like you when I go to hospital?’

  ‘Perhaps you don’t look in the right place.’ Logan chuckled.

  ‘Dan, Logan, both of you behave,’ Gloria chided. ‘You know Muriel doesn’t like stable talk.’

  The old man snorted derisively. ‘Muriel’s too uppity by half. Forgotten her roots, she has.’ He winked at Victoria. ‘Don’t let her scare you off, girl.’

  ‘I don’t scare easily.’ Charmed, she gave a delighted little laugh.

  Far more relaxed after this encounter, Victoria realised the gathering wasn’t quite as large as she’d first thought. There were probably about twenty couples.

  As Logan turned to greet another couple, his grip on her arm tightened. ‘Victoria, Keir you’ve met, and his fiancée, Davina Strathmore.’

  Victoria’s laughter died and she was suddenly glad of Logan’s supportive grip as she grappled with a shaft of raw, garden-variety jealousy. Keir’s fiancée had a cool, Nordic beauty, but it was her possessive grip on Keir’s arm that Victoria really disliked.

  But Victoria was determined to be polite, even if the effort killed her.

  Davina had no such qualms. She looked down her perfectly straight nose at Victoria, and with leisurely insolence touched the tips of her fingers to Victoria’s outstretched hand. ‘Muriel said Logan was caught up in the toils of a gold-digger.’

  Victoria took a sharp, angry breath and glanced at Keir to find him watching her from beneath eyelids at half-mast, a cynical smile twisting his lips. She lo
nged to slap that supercilious smile clean off the other woman’s face—and then do the same to him.

  With slow deliberation she allowed her gaze to sweep the opulently furnished room before looking directly at Davina, and keeping her voice low and deceptively sweet she said, ‘And, oh my, isn’t there such a lot of gold to dig.’

  ‘You’ll find no easy pickings here.’ Keir was suddenly alert and very wary.

  ‘You think?’ Victoria touched a suggestive finger to her lips, and slowly and deliberately looked him up and down. ‘But then, I’ve never encountered any resistance from you, have I, Keir?’

  A dark flush ran up under his tan, and Logan’s grip on her arm tightened.

  Coins of dull colour stained Davina’s cheeks. ‘You wanton little slut.’

  Keir gripped Davina’s arm and steered her away. As Victoria watched them leave, apprehension skittered across her skin like some nasty eight-legged creature.

  A waiter approached with a tray of drinks and Logan snagged two glasses of champagne, handing one to her. ‘Take care, Tori. Davina isn’t a woman to cross.’

  ‘She’s so rude. Who does she think she is?’

  ‘Davina has a huge sense of self-entitlement and thinks she can say anything she likes when it suits her purpose.’

  Victoria sipped her champagne and its tart sweetness exploded on her tongue as she watched Logan across the rim of her glass. ‘You don’t like her?’

  ‘She’s like a black widow spider: beautiful to look at but full of venom.’ He shook his head, watching the engaged pair with a troubled frown.

  An hour ago I was thinking something similar about your mother!

  Victoria was unsure how to respond, so she remained silent. She watched the engaged pair talk to an elderly couple, but she could see no sign of intimacy. No secret touches. No lingering looks. Not one single indication of the passion she knew Keir possessed.

  Victoria stared into her champagne, watching the tiny bubbles break the surface as her treacherous memories resurfaced. The man she’d known was always touching: the brush of his fingers on her hair, a touch to the face, a gentle hand on her shoulder, a whisper in her ear.