by Sara Wood
‘And why might you need an ally?’ he asked smoothly.
‘I’m on a mission,’ she declared. ‘To marry Dex.’
He breathed in and out several times before replying.
‘And you think I can help with that?’
‘You might. You seem to be a favourite of Sofia’s. You could put a good word in for me and tell her how much I want to be his wife,’ she finished, sounding pleased with herself. ‘Incidentally, you didn’t answer my question when I asked where he was.’
Time to reveal himself. He gave a small smile.
‘He arrived a while ago.’
The long dark lashes blinked and she cautiously looked around the gloom-ridden table. Since no one else there was under sixty, her gaze soon returned to him.
‘Where is he, then?’ she asked. ‘There isn’t even a spare place set for him. I don’t understand what you’re saying.’
He took her slender hand and gazed into her eyes in simulated desire. Well, OK. Not that simulated.
He stroked his thumb across her palm and she blinked, her lips parting. Oddly, her skin seemed work-worn. Presumably she had to do the chores if the Cooks were poor. Though he couldn’t imagine a woman like this scrubbing a kitchen floor. It was another piece of information that didn’t fit.
‘A small subterfuge,’ he murmured as sexily as he could, wondering why he had the urge to draw closer. No matter. It suited his purpose.
He was almost breathing her breath. And finding her proximity incredibly arousing. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his head above water.
‘I thought you’d be amused,’ he husked.
Her gaze was solemn and puzzled.
‘I might be, but I haven’t got the joke yet—’
‘Dexter!’ snapped his grandmother sharply. ‘You choose the wine.’
Maddy’s grey eyes widened and paled to a soft silver. She looked so vulnerable suddenly that he found himself weakening towards her.
‘You?’ she croaked eventually, snatching her hand away as if he’d savaged it with his teeth. ‘You can’t be…Dexter?’
He nodded, telling himself that he ought to be pleased with her reaction. She was on the make. He had to remember that.
‘Good joke, eh?’
‘But…’ Clearly flustered, she peered deeply into his eyes and a flicker of fire spurted through his veins. ‘Where, then, are your glasses?’ she demanded, tossing her head with a wonderful defiance.
He had to clear his throat again before answering.
‘In a rubbish tip somewhere in Rio, I imagine. My sight’s been corrected by lasers. It means I can gaze deeply into your eyes and see your soul,’ he added, wondering if he was going a chat up line too far.
Although she gulped—perhaps because his corny line was too hard to swallow, he thought in amusement—she didn’t look convinced.
‘Lasers?’ she queried, seeming to pull herself together. ‘If you’re peering into my soul then they probably implanted X-ray machines into your eyes.’
He chuckled. ‘Amazing, modern science, isn’t it?’
She looked him up and down. Mostly up, because of his height.
‘Dex was unusually short. You’re tall,’ she said suspiciously.
‘I grew,’ he informed her, solemn-faced. ‘Shot up when I was a teenager. Up and out.’
‘That much?’ she cried doubtfully, slowly making a repeat tour of his healthy torso.
With her sultry gaze on his body, the breath came quick and fast from his contracting lungs. Maddy certainly knew how to turn a man on, he thought angrily.
‘I worked out. Got tired of being pushed around,’ he replied in all truth.
‘But you were so skinny!’ she declared, glaring from beneath her brows at the breadth of his shoulders. Her pout troubled him but he wasn’t sure why.
‘I ate like a horse,’ he said, having difficulty with his throat again.
She threw him a look of disbelief.
‘You were…’ she bit her lip and appeared to be considering her words carefully ‘…kind of cool. Aloof.’
He grinned. ‘It was the only way I knew to stay out of trouble—at school and at home. Low profile and all that sort of thing. Head below the parapet. But I’m not cool or aloof now, am I?’
‘N-no.’
To his relief, Maddy sat back in her chair and the intense atmosphere seemed to lighten a little.
‘That’s why I don’t think you’re Dex at all,’ she pronounced scornfully, her beautiful eyes as hard as slate. ‘Forget it. It won’t work.’
He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘People don’t change that much. You’re in league with Dex. This is some kind of a plot to get me married off to the wrong guy—’
‘No plot, I can assure you,’ he purred, taking the opportunity to stroke her bare arm. The snake expanded and contracted with her rising breasts and he felt slightly intoxicated. Obviously with triumph. He’d succeeded in rendering Maddy speechless—no mean feat. ‘So,’ he continued in an intimate whisper, putting a hot hand on her knee. ‘Let’s get to know one another better. Starting…somewhere around…here.’
Maddy jumped and surprised him by blushing before pushing his hand away.
‘Dexter!’ commanded his grandmother, her voice querulous with fear. ‘The wine! And do consult the menu or we’ll be here all night.’
‘Excuse me. I’ll be with you in a moment. Keep the pot boiling,’ he murmured to Maddy, and turned to the patient wine waiter.
She didn’t believe him. He wasn’t Dexter. Not in a million years. It was absolutely impossible. Women could be altered out of all recognition by makeovers, but not men. She seethed with anger at the trick that was being played on her.
Grandfather had been wrong. The Fitzgeralds weren’t interested in healing the differences between the two families with a dynastic marriage. They’d responded to his suggestion by actually trying to make a fool out of her!
The hand slipped around her thigh again and gave another little squeeze. Seething with anger, she wanted to stab it with her fork, but summoned up a girly simper instead, when the so-called Dexter glanced back at her.
He stared for a breath-holding second or two and the sultry desire in his eyes made her stomach somersault.
Rage at her own susceptibility scoured her body. However, it wasn’t surprising that she fancied him. That had probably been the plan, anyway. Pay a good-looking, impoverished guy the right amount of money and he’d be willing to sell his soul, let alone seduce an innocent English girl. Poor mutt. She pitied him, whoever he was.
But how dared the Fitzgeralds do this to her? It was a vile thing to do! Tightening her muscles as the impostor’s hand began to investigate the silky terrain of her bare thigh, she ground her teeth in fury.
She would expose him for the fraud he was. And then she’d demand to see the real Dex. That would unnerve them.
‘Hey, ho! This brings back the memories,’ she mused sweetly, when the so-called Dexter smiled at her longingly, all soulful eyes and hungry mouth.
His fingers ceased to explore her thigh. He looked shifty, as well he might.
‘What does?’ he asked cautiously.
‘All these people around the table.’ Conquering her rocketing pulses, she adopted a dreamy expression, determined to catch him out. ‘Reminds me of family dinners around the fireside.’
‘We always ate formally, at the table,’ he drawled. ‘Your memory’s faulty.’
She felt a little disappointed. OK. So he’d done a bit of homework. She’d try something else.
‘I was young,’ she dismissed airily. ‘Hard to remember. So much is a blur. I do recall the stone lions on the gateposts—’
‘Pineapples,’ he said laconically.
‘Oh. Well, what about the time your father decorated your bedroom with spaceships and you painted over them with trains—?’
‘Trees. Mountains. Poppy fields.’
Dex’s father had gone berserk. ‘And h
e loved them,’ she persisted.
‘He ranted and raved.’
‘So he did.’
Sobered by the terrible and tragic mismatch between Dex and his hard and sometimes cruel father, she was even more determined to prove that this hunk of a man was a total impostor.
She knew that Dex had been crushed by his father’s un-compromisingly harsh methods of child-rearing. And she’d felt sympathy for him.
But this man who’d been trying to explore her thigh clearly wouldn’t know fear if it leaped into his truck and changed gear for him.
She fumed. Did he and Sofia think she was blind, or something?
With a shake of her head, she sighed and said, ‘I’ve forgotten so much! For instance…what were the names of the dogs we had?’
‘Solo, Scratch and Shuffle,’ he replied drily, his eyes keen and alert as if he knew exactly what she was doing. ‘You chose their names, I recall, to fit their characters.’
Maddy racked her brains for something only the real Dexter would know and came up with something deeply personal. Consequently her tender heart made her hesitate before using it as proof. She could be treading on delicate ground here. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. She had to know the truth.
‘Dear little things,’ she cooed. ‘They were a comfort to us both—’
‘Yes,’ he broke in thoughtfully. ‘You often rushed off to cuddle one of them when your grandfather shouted at you for some minor misdemeanour.’
She blinked, disconcerted. But anyone could have known that.
‘And there was that day when you returned from boarding-school in England with a black eye,’ she said lightly, ‘and Scratch jumped up in welcome and you sat down and buried your face in his furry ruff—’
‘Shuffle,’ he said curtly, cutting her off. ‘And it was a broken nose—’
‘Oh, yes. How did you get that?’ she asked, assuming a concerned expression.
‘You know very well,’ he drawled cynically.
‘Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t,’ she said equably. She did her big-eyes routine at him. ‘But if you’re Dexter you’ll be able to jog my memory. And you’ll be able to confirm how old you were at the time.’
‘Why should I?’ he growled.
Was he stalling because he didn’t know? Her eyes met his in challenge and she faltered, almost gasping at the Arctic frost of his expression.
‘You—you want to prove who you are, don’t you? The right answer would convince me,’ she stumbled.
She felt sick, knowing that only Dex would have found the memory uncomfortable. A truck driver would neither know nor care. If this was Dex, by some miracle, then she would regret upsetting him with unpleasant memories.
Aghast at what she’d done, she bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t strayed into such personal territory.
On Dexter’s return to Portugal for the summer holiday, a farm hand had been sent to collect him from the airport because the whole family—bar Maddy herself—had gone to a villa-promotions exhibition in Lisbon.
So it had been she who’d gently asked what had happened and who had damaged his face.
And, although he’d been his usual stoic, contained self, she’d recognised how deeply hurt he’d been. He didn’t care about his physical injuries, only that the girl he’d adored from afar had rejected him.
Oblivious of the diners around them, they let their gazes lock. And she saw that he was hurt—and furious, too. It was him! she thought, aghast.
‘OK. If it’ll satisfy you,’ he snarled.
She winced. ‘No. Don’t bother. You—you…don’t have to—’
‘Too late. I think I do.’ His eyes glittered, his voice harsh and grating. She cringed. ‘I was nearly fourteen. I’d chatted up someone else’s girlfriend at the end-of-term dance and I was dragged outside and thoroughly beaten up. My time at boarding-school was hell on earth, and only you and I know about it because I always put my bruises down to boisterous rugby games. Now do you believe who I am?’ he finished with quiet vehemence.
She wished the earth would swallow her up. Oh, yes. This was Dexter! No longer a browbeaten, bullied teenager, but the kind of charismatic sex-god who’d never be turned down by any sane woman with a healthy libido.
Incredible. Judging by his performance so far, he could play the caveman and urban sophisticate equally well. Those eyes hinted that he could be a tiger in bed. She was already sexually aroused by him and he hadn’t even touched her.
Help. Her intention was to flirt outrageously with him—and turn him against her! Was she mad, or what? The man was bad and dangerous to know. She was an innocent, straying into an alien territory where Dexter roamed with confidence.
If she spent too long with him she could see herself wilting beneath his overpowering sex appeal and she’d find herself between the sheets with him, minus her virginity. Just another woman who’d succumbed to Dex’s almost hypnotic masculinity.
Could she really keep him at arm’s length whilst appearing to lead him on? Could she keep herself from letting him know that she longed to be kissed into willing submission by that fascinating, sensually curving mouth?
Panic welled up inside her. She was in terrible trouble! The next few days were going to be a dreadful ordeal!
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDY summoned up all her strength of will and put together a bright smile with a lot of teeth showing.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, secretly daunted by the task she’d set herself. ‘I do accept it’s you, Dex.’ Her eyes pleaded with him. ‘Sorry I brought up the past.’
His eyes flickered. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘Good.’
The Dexter she’d known had certainly vanished. This one was sexually aware and sure of himself. No one would kick sand in his face. But he’d lost his tender heart on the way.
She trembled, wondering if he took after his arrogant, ruthless father—or his mother, who she’d initially remembered as kind and gentle. Until her grandfather had put her right and told her that the woman had been a tramp.
He smiled a little sardonically at her confused expression.
‘Shall we start again?’ he suggested.
She managed a smile. ‘Why not?’
‘Well, hello, then,’ he murmured, leaning forward and kissing her cheek.
The unexpected warmth of his lips, the prolonged—it was, wasn’t it? For it certainly seemed to last forever—lingering pressure conspired to send her senses into free fall. And she felt more scared than ever.
‘Hello!’ she gasped stupidly as he drew away a fraction, his face remaining breathtakingly close.
‘Friends again, I hope. It’s going to be a pleasure to renew our acquaintance,’ he said silkily.
‘Er—yes. Lovely,’ she quavered, struggling with an impulse to haul him back for a proper kiss.
Her mouth was tingling with hunger and she was shocked by the wicked urges which seemed intent on overriding common sense and decency.
He stared deep into her cleavage.
‘Whereabouts shall we start?’ he breathed in heart-flipping gravelly tones.
Her tinkling laugh sounded hollow and slightly hysterical.
‘You know, I can’t get over you!’ she declared throatily, avoiding an answer that might encourage him. ‘You’re so…amazingly different—’
‘So are you.’
The languorous and velvety tones were so warm and intimate that she almost confessed. But flashed a broad smile instead.
‘I re-made myself,’ she said, injecting a note of pride into her voice.
‘With dramatic results,’ he murmured, taking her hand.
His wink and accompanying leer worried her but she managed a coy giggle of self-deprecation.
‘More flattery, please!’ she purred. ‘And while you’re at it you can satisfy my curiosity. You’re trotting out the compliments now, and yet you were curt and rude to me when we first met. So what’s changed?’ she asked innocently.
He gave her the ben
efit of his dazzling smile and pool-dark eyes.
‘Let’s be frank. Our grandparents have hopes of marriage between us, yes?’
‘So I was led to believe,’ she hedged.
‘OK. To be honest, initially I didn’t like the idea of being pushed into marriage with someone I’d remembered as drab with the personality of a limp cucumber,’ he told her with brutal frankness.
‘Thanks.’
A cucumber! Rot him. He was right, she thought wryly. And she grinned to show there was no ill feeling.
His eyes danced. And more. There was…admiration? Certainly desire. In buckets. She felt her body quiver.
‘My pleasure,’ he said with a chuckle, nibbling her knuckles.
‘So?’ Stupid though it was, the feel of his mouth was robbing her of speech. Or perhaps it was the lowered flutter of his impossibly thick black lashes. And his gently savaging teeth, promising… Maddy hastily pulled herself together and searched for the question she’d meant to ask. ‘So,’ she said, appalled at how croaky she sounded. ‘What changed your mind?’
‘You did.’
He was croaky too. Maddy began to panic. Dex wasn’t supposed to be attracted to her!
‘I did?’ she squeaked in alarm.
‘Very much so,’ he murmured. ‘You are…’ his slow gaze burned all the way from the top of her head to her feet, stopping at strategic points in between ‘…a knockout,’ he said on a husky out-breath.
She swallowed, her smoky eyes enormous with dismay.
‘Oh. I thought you might find me…not to your liking!’
‘I was startled when I first saw you,’ he admitted. ‘And I was bearing a grudge on behalf of my family.’
‘Why?’ she asked, startled.
‘Because your father seduced my mother.’
She blinked. ‘The other way round, surely!’
‘I think you’ll find I’m right,’ he drawled. ‘In any case, you grew on me. It took a while for me to take on board the fact that you’d gone through a transformation, and that maybe we could…’ His eyes kindled, lighting instant fires inside her. ‘Er—how shall I put this delicately?—maybe we could get together. Close together. You’re fascinating, Maddy,’ he said passionately. ‘I’m intrigued. And very, very attracted.’