The Deception Trap

by Ann Charlton

  Teressa frowned at that. It didn’t sound at all flattering. ‘Do you remember my sister?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure. I was seventeen, I guess, when Ashe started bringing her home.’ Wendy flicked a cool glance at Teressa. ‘He was crazy about her and none of us could—well, it’s probably a good thing they found out they wouldn’t suit before they got married. The engagement was nearly called off a couple of times before they finished it.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ Teressa tried to think back.

  From time to time Cecily had come home from a date with Ashe and flung upstairs in a stormy mood.

  ‘Lovers’ quarrels,’ Damien had laughed. She remembered hating the phrase. Ashamed, she could even recall some faint pleasure at the thought of their disagreements. But she’d been only sixteen, after all.

  ‘Ashe was pretty broken up about it all.’ Wendy looked almost accusing. ‘I can tell you that I was pretty hot under the collar about your sister at the time.’

  So Ashe had obviously concocted some story for his family. ‘Did he tell you why the engagement was broken?’

  ‘No, he would never talk about it.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he would,’ Teressa said drily.

  ‘But that doesn’t mean that we didn’t guess. Cecily was lucky he was so fond of your father, otherwise—’

  ‘Otherwise what?’

  ‘None of it matters now,’ Wendy shrugged, and perched herself on a wide window ledge, ‘Ashe isn’t going to make that mistake again. I hope.’ She eyed Teressa thoughtfully. ‘He said he gave you this job for old times’ sake and because you only had temporary work until next month. Is that true?’

  It was tempting to tell her how she happened to be here. About Thelma Richards and her brother’s less than noble motives. But Teressa couldn’t help remembering that other side of Ashe—insisting on Wallace Moore’s courtesy to an insignificant girl—Ashe tending the burn on her arm. His kiss for a sweet girl who wasn’t so sweet. ‘Yes, that’s right. For old times’ sake.’

  Wendy slipped off the window ledge and smiled.

  Turning, Teressa saw Ashe standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held her gaze for several seconds before going to his sister.

  ‘So, it’s all systems go for you and Drew after all,’ he smiled, and put an arm around her. ‘Didn’t I tell you it I would all work out?’

  She kissed him on the cheek. ‘So you did—and I’ve done John a good turn into the bargain,’ she sparkled.

  ‘There’s nothing like a bit of competition to make up some people’s minds for them!’ She glanced at Teressa. ‘Though I’m not too sure where that leaves you

  —’

  Ashe saw her out. When he came back he said, ‘You could have told her I forced you to work for me.’

  ‘I could have told her a lot more than that.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Blame it on my hangover. It’s not so easy to concentrate when you’ve had too much wine.’

  ‘It didn’t have an inhibiting effect on you last night,’ he pointed out. Teressa flushed and made for the stairs. There was something about last night-some Odd feeling or flash of recollection. But it remained hazy.

  The view was as beautiful as ever. Teressa gazed at it several times during the day. The doubts, secrets and needs of Ashe’s characters seemed pale reflections of her own today. It was useless, she decided, dragging her eyes from the bobbing masts of the sailing school.

  Pure wishful thinking to want him to be the opposite of what she knew him to be. It hadn’t worked very well before. Wishes from a tower.

  ‘How did Merrow react to being dropped?’ Ashe asked over their lunch sandwiches and coffee. Teressa shrugged. She hand’t exactly dropped him, not officially.

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘No. As long as you don’t see him again,’ he said in a steely tone.

  ‘I’ve said I won’t,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t want Thelma Richards in court.’

  Ashe gave her an odd look. As her attention was caught he hardened his mouth and said, ‘Remember that and we’ll get along just fine.’

  ‘Add “baby” to the end of that and you’d sound like Humphrey Bogart,’ she said scornfully. ‘A real tough guy.’

  For a moment he looked as if he might smile, but he put back his head and looked almost threatening.

  ‘When I want something I can be a real tough guy.’

  Straight out of Hollywood, she thought, looking at him with puzzlement. Maybe she was imagining that touch of melodrama.

  She finished work just after five. Ashe glanced through the pile of typing and nodded his approval.

  ‘You’re fast,’ he commented.

  ‘Accurate too.’

  ‘You’ve made one or two mistakes.’

  ‘I’ll try not to make any more.’

  ‘It’s impossible. Some things are easily misinterpreted, especially when you aren’t familiar with the story’s beginning.’

  ‘At least my mistakes are minor,’ said Teressa coldly.

  He leaned back. ‘And mine?’

  ‘It’s not for me to say. You’re the author.’

  Ashe folded his arms behind his head. The pose strained the cloth of his shift across his chest and threw into prominence the muscularity of his upper arms.

  ‘What are you doing tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘Washing my hair.’

  ‘Ah. See you in the morning, then, Teressa.’

  Thelma was preparing to go to Warlord when Teressa got home. In the five minutes before she drove off in the white van she expressed again her delight with Len Briers’ work, her gratitude to Ashe for arranging it, and updated Teressa on the activities of all her family.

  Except Dan.

  ‘Not a postcard even.’ She shook her head and anxious lines grouped on her forehead. ‘Children are a joy but a worry, my dear.’

  Dan was more worry than joy. She’d like to give him a piece of her mind, Teressa decided as she returned Thelma’s cheery wave and the little van veered out on to the street.

  She ate a frozen dinner uninterestedly, her brain grappling with a hundred new lightning views of Ashe as seen these past two days. And of herself. Someone knocked at her door. With him so much on her mind, she almost expected it to be Ashe. But it was Joel —charismatic Joel, flourishing a bouquet of orchids covered in cellophane.

  ‘For you, darling,’ he said warmly, and dropped the flowers in her arms and strolled inside.

  ‘Joel, you shouldn’t—‘ she protested. Purposely she left the door ajar. Maybe he would take the hint.

  But he didn’t.

  ‘Let’s say they’re to atone for New Year’s Eve. Believe me, I never intended you to start the New Year in a police car.’

  ‘I know,’ she said drily. ‘But as it happens it was preferable to the place you had in mind.’

  There was a flash of irritation in his dark eyes. The citadel hadn’t fallen and didn’t look like crumbling.

  Teressa put the orchids down on the divan and turned to discourage his intention to stay.

  ‘Thank you for the flowers, Joel, but—’

  ‘But nothing, darling. You know how I feel about you … why don’t you let yourself go?’

  ‘Joel, it’s been fun, but we just aren’t on the same wavelength. '

  He caught her hand. ‘We could be—this weekend. Just you and me, on a boat. We can mooch along the banks of the Hawkesbury—’ He drew her closer and she put her hands on his arms to hold him off. Joel stared persuasively into her eyes and his voice dropped an octave. He had a sexy lower register.

  ‘We’ll stop at some of the secluded little islands … you haven’t lived if you haven’t made love outdoors…’

  ‘There’s just one problem, Merrow,’ a cool voice said from the doorway. Ashe pushed the door further open and stepped in. He glanced at the orchids, then concentrated on Joel. ‘Teressa is spending the weekend with me.’

  Joel let her go. His
mouth compressed.

  ‘Isn’t that so, Teressa ‘?’ Ashe insisted.

  ‘I—yes—’ She put a hand to Joel’s sleeve. ‘I’m sorry, Joel.’ She would have preferred to finish it in private. Joel battled with his temper and went in to bat for his ego.

  ‘Think about it, Tess,’ he gave his wolfish smile, ‘You know you’d have more fun with me than with an old friend of the family.’ He went to the door with only a glance at Ashe’s cold, furious face. ‘Phone me, darling, if you feel like a little action.’

  Ashe slammed the door shut on the jungle snarl of the Jaguar.

  ‘So you did discuss me with him,’ he bit out with quiet, deadly control.

  ‘Of course not! I told you —'

  ‘An “old friend of the family” with outmoded ideas—but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Teressa. You can forget any fun you had in mind with Merrow.’

  ‘I didn’t have any—what are you doing here, anyway?’ she cried, furious to find herself on the defensive. ‘I’m entitled to some privacy! '

  ‘Never mind why I came,’ he snapped, and his eyes raked over her. She had changed into a cotton skirt and off-the-shoulder frilled top for coolness. Heat suffused her body. He snatched at her wrist and yanked her to him.

  ‘Decided on a little more excitement than washing your hair, did you, Teressa? You had to see Merrow again even though you gave your word.’

  ‘Get your hands off me!’ she shouted, and punched him on the shoulder. His breath came out on an ‘Ooomph’ at the impact. The big bully! Who did he think he was, taking over her private life? She took another swing at him. But her target dropped from view and as she toppled off balance from the impetus, he grabbed her around the knees and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The hallway went by upside down. Teressa pelted at his behind and thighs, tried to regain her breath to scream—something. Just as she gathered air into her lungs, Ashe dropped her on her bed and her breath rushed out again as she went sprawling.

  ‘Feel like a little action, darling?’ he drawled in a fair imitation of Joel. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the floor.

  ‘Ashe, what are you doing—?’ she stammered, and dragged herself backwards across the bed. Ashe grabbed her ankle and hauled her towards him.

  ‘Forget the shy, virginal act, darling—I’ve had that, remember?’ He knelt on the bed, releasing her ankle to move his hand upward beneath the skirt that was rumpled way above her knees. His eyes glittered.

  ‘Indoors can be fun too—’ he said huskily, stroking her thigh, her hip … and he lowered himself so that his body overlapped hers. His mouth went to her neck, her ear, then to her lips, fiercely. Her squeaks of protest were muffled . ” her flurries of resistance stilled as Ashe roused her senses with his lips and his hands that stroked and caressed and slid between fabric and bare skin … she wrapped her arms about his back and arched beneath him. Ashe raised his head and looked down at her. His breath was patchy, his mouth parted—moist— ‘Stay away from Merrow,’ he growled as his hand strayed over her stomach and down …

  ‘I kept my word,’ she croaked, hoping to stop him before she lost all sense. ‘I told him I wouldn’t see him again, but he’s persistent.’ His hand spread over her hip, his thumb moved in tormenting small circles … ‘He’s my friend’s brother and it isn’t easy to put him off. I mean, she adores him and—’ She gulped as his fingers brushed her inner thigh. Her voice rose to a gabble— ‘I don’t want to lose her friendship by throwing over Joel … I have to be tactful … Asher She clutched at his arm to make him stop. And he did, staring into her wide eyes, searching for whatever it was he sought in her.

  ‘God, I’m doing it again,’ he muttered. ‘Wanting to believe in you—’ And this time his kiss was soft and sweet. Teressa relaxed as he sat up.

  ‘On second thoughts we won’t wait for the weekend,’ he told her. ‘We’ll go down to Deception on Thursday. ‘

  Teressa shot up, straightening her clothes from their disarray.

  ‘Deception? You weren’t serious about me going away with you, surely?’

  ‘Why not? You were considering spending the weekend with Merrow.’

  ‘You can’t make me go!’

  Ashe got to his feet, picked up his jacket and put it on. ‘What is the penalty for forgery these days?’ he pondered. ‘Mrs Richards would probably get special consideration because of her age. On the other hand … ‘ Through narrowed eyes he watched her frustration, then he strolled from the bedroom.

  ‘You rotter!’ she flung at him. ‘I don’t know how you manage to fool so many people. Your sister and your cleaning ladies are quite taken in. They wouldn’t believe you capable of blackmail over a petty offence—’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘You certainly believe it, and that’s all that matters.’ She followed him into the livingroom. At the door he said: ‘I called to suggest a movie, but you don’t look in the mood somehow. So— same time tomorrow, Teressa. And the day after that we’ll drive to Deception. Pack enough clothes for a few days. Put in that sexy bikini and the see-through nightdress. But don’t bring any of those limp tents you wore last time, there’s a good girl.’

  Teressa picked up the nearest object and flung it.

  Ashe half closed the door as a shield. Cellophane rustled and tore and Joel’s orchids fell in a crushed, broken heap. He reappeared briefly to look down at the flowers.

  “Tch, tch, what a pity.’ he said, and laughed as he shut the door.

  His reversion to type improved her work. The following day Teressa did a great deal less mooning over the view from his tower window and channelled her feelings into typing output.

  ‘I’m impressed,’ he said when she handed him a sheaf of typed pages at about eleven. ‘At the rate you’re going there won’t be any work left for you to do at Deception. In which case we won’t need to take the typewriter with us tomorrow.’

  Teressa swallowed. She had been trying not to think about his plans for their stay at Deception. He laughed at her disconcerted expression.

  ‘Relax, Teressa. I’ll take it anyway. After all, without the Adler, what would we do with ourselves?’

  Resuming work, she slanted a look at him. What an amazing change from last night’s tough implacability to today’s teasing! His glasses glinted silver as he raised a hand to adjust them. Beautiful hands, she thought, shapely and strong and honest-looking.

  Hands to trust. There were laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. A lean, tanned face full of strength and character. Ashe caught her looking.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t have a portrait of yourself in an attic somewhere?’

  ‘A portrait?’ he frowned.

  ‘The rotten bits must have gone somewhere.’ she muttered.

  He sighed. ‘Ah, 1 see—Dorian Gray. 1 suppose I’ll just have to accept that as a compliment, though I’m damned if I ever received a more backhanded one!’

  He was on the phone when Val brought their coffee.

  The mangled strains of Tailhouse Rock’ stopped short at the door. Val seemed more bubbly than ever today.

  ‘Ashe said your husband has been in hospital. Was it an accident?’ Teressa asked. Val was delighted to talk about Graham’s trouble. Not an accident—no—but such pain he was getting from a worn disc in his neck. He put off the operation for months because he couldn’t get a driver he could trust to keep the business going.

  ‘Lucky for us, Ashe found out he was worrying himself crazy instead of recuperating and used his contacts to get us a driver-a real good man. Now Graham’s himself again, and you don’t know what a relief it is to see him take himself off to work.’ Val raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘Men make such terrible patients !’

  She went out mouthing ‘Goodbye’ to Ashe, who was still on the phone. He raised a hand in farewell.

  ‘Val thinks you’re terrific,’ Teressa said accusingly when he terminated his call. ‘There aren’t many men like you, she says.�
��

  He grinned. ‘You can fool some of the people all of the time…’ He gave her some handwritten sheets. ‘I have to go to the office. Pick you up around eight-thirty tomorrow morning?’ he said at the door, and waited a moment before he left. He appeared to expect an argument again about going to Deception. She didn’t give him one.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AT Deception the day was glaring bright, matt blue and high-gloss gold. Gulls carked and the sea marked time on the shore. It seemed a lifetime since that first journey to Deception. A rounded, friendly woman appeared to greet them—the woman whose measled children had given Teressa the opportunity she had so foolishly seized. As they went in Gwen acquainted them with the rooms she had prepared-two Teressa noted with relief-and eagerly gave Ashe an’ account of all the work she and her husband had done on the house since last he was here.