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Bitter Enchantment

Page 3

by Yvonne Whittal


  Melanie's heart lurched sickeningly, and she clutched wildly at the edge of her seat as the room tilted dangerously about her.

  'You're not serious,' she managed hoarsely, convinced that he was merely joking in a macabre sort of way, but there was no hint of humour on his harshly chiselled features as she stared anxiously up at him.

  'I'm very serious,' he confirmed coldly, but her numbed brain still refused to accept what he was saying.

  'But it's preposterous!'

  'Is it?' he demanded matter-of-factly as he studied the tip of his cigarette. 'I would call it a very reasonable way of compensating me for being inconvenienced.'

  Melanie no longer doubted that he meant every word he was saying, and the coldness of fear washed over her, whipping the colour from her cheeks and accentuating the shadows beneath deep blue eyes which had long since lost their sparkle.

  'I presume that, if I agree, you intend it to be a… a real marriage?' she heard herself ask in a voice that sounded quite unlike her own.

  'Naturally.'

  'And if I refuse?'

  Steel grey eyes narrowed, pinning her ruthlessly to her chair. 'Then Greystone Manor is sold, regardless of the consequences.'

  His words found their mark with the accuracy of an arrow finding its target, and Melanie winced inwardly as she felt their impact. 'You drive a hard bargain, Mr Kerr.'

  'Bargaining is part of my business,' he reminded her, crushing his cigarette into the steel ashtray beside his chair. 'I know what I want, and I set out to get it, but I still consider my request to be a reasonable one.'

  'There's nothing reasonable about it. I hardly know you, and you expect me to… oh, lord!' She broke off, burying her face in her trembling hands at the thought of what marriage to this granite-faced man would entail. She would be his to do with as he pleased, while Granny Bridget continued her life in peace and serenity at Greystone Manor.

  'Don't consider it a life sentence,' he interrupted her thoughts harshly. 'I might have tired of you by the time the house is eventually sold, and then you'll be free to go.' He smiled cynically. 'Divorce is so easy these days.'

  'I must have time to think,' she prevaricated.

  Jason Kerr flicked back his cuff and glanced at his wristwatch. 'I'll give you ten minutes to think about it.'

  'Ten minutes?' she questioned incredulously, a spark of anger igniting within her and sending the flow of blood more swiftly through her veins.

  'How much longer do you need to consider the effect your rejection of my proposal will have on your grandmother?' he demanded in a clipped voice, rising to his feet and walking across to the other side of the room. He pressed a concealed button and, to Melanie's astonishment, a section of the panelled wall slid inwards and to the side to reveal a drinks cabinet. He poured something into two glasses and splashed soda water into one before returning to her side. 'Drink this,' he said, pressing a glass into her hand. 'It may settle your nerves and make you see sense.'

  Her hand shook to such an extent that she brought the glass hastily to her lips and swallowed a mouthful, realising too late that it was brandy. She coughed and gasped for breath as the fiery liquid slid down her throat and, to her embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears. Setting down her glass, she glimpsed a hint of humour in his glance, and her anger flared instantly.

  'I wish I could tell you to go to the devil and do your worst!' she snapped as she found her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

  'I have no doubt that you do wish that,' he countered swiftly, 'but your conscience wouldn't allow it. It would save time if you gave me the answer I want, Melanie.'

  For some inexplicable reason his use of her name suggested an intimacy that sent an unwelcome tremor along her nerves. 'I have no choice, have I?'

  'None whatsoever.'

  'Then you don't need me to tell you what my answer must be.'

  He stared hard at her for a moment, making her feel like an insect wriggling on a pin, then he moved his shoulders slightly beneath the expensively tailored jacket, and swallowed down the remainder of his drink.

  'I shall contact your employer at the textile manufacturers and arrange for you to be released next Friday,' he said in a businesslike voice, and Melanie's startled glance met his.

  'How do you know where I work?'

  'My dear child, I haven't been idle this past week,' he mocked her. 'While you were investigating your father's affairs, I was investigating you.'

  'Why?' she demanded indignantly. 'Did you imagine that I would ignore my father's debts and steal off into the night, or something equally distasteful?'

  'No,' he said firmly. 'You have too much pride and strength of character to even consider such a cowardly act.'

  His observation surprised her. 'If you knew that, then why did you have me investigated?'

  'You interested me, and that's why I made it my business to find out all there was to know about you.' He smiled briefly, and the tension increased within her as she glimpsed that hint of sensuality about his seemingly flexible mouth. 'I know that you're twenty-three, and that your mother died shortly after you were born. Your father never remarried and your grandmother virtually brought you up single-handed. I also know that you've been seeing quite a lot of a chap by the name of Adrian Louw, and that, if it depended on him alone, you would have married him.' Her gasp of astonishment made him pause momentarily before he added smoothly. 'There's very little I don't know about you, Melanie Ryan, and what I don't know I aim to find out after our marriage.'

  His meaning was only too clear and, cheeks flaming, she averted her glance to avoid the penetrating quality of his eyes. 'I'm certain a great many women have interested you in the past.'

  'I don't deny that.'

  'Neither am I unaware of your reputation where women are concerned,' she said before she could stop herself, and a flicker of amusement flashed across his face; amusement which was directed at her, and which sent the blood surging back into her cheeks.

  'I've never hidden the fact that I don't live the life of a celibate,' he announced in his unperturbed fashion. 'Just as I've never pretended an interest in marriage.'

  'What made you decide to break that rule on this occasion?' she asked, despising herself for her curiosity.

  'Rules were made to be broken occasionally, as in this instance. I knew you wouldn't give me what I wanted without the legality of a marriage certificate.'

  'Must you be so crude?' she gasped, making the mistake of jumping to her feet, for Jason Kerr stood up at the same time, and she suddenly found herself so close to him that their bodies were almost touching in the confined space between their chairs. Her nerves vibrated at his nearness and, as if sensing the panic that rose sharply within her, he smiled with cynical amusement as she moved hastily away.

  'I believe in plain speaking, then everyone knows where they stand, but let's get back to the subject under discussion,' he continued as if nothing had happened. 'I shall make all the necessary arrangements for us to be married next Saturday.'

  'Next Saturday? But that's .too soon!' she cried, fighting against the net that seemed to be closing in on her with such speed. 'That's only a week away, and I don't—'

  'From now on I call the tune, Melanie Ryan,' Jason Kerr interrupted harshly, and just one glance at his formidable countenance made her realise with what ease he could bend her to his will.

  'What do you think my grandmother will have to say when I confront her with the news of our hasty marriage?' she tried once more.

  'You'll have to convince her that this is not as sudden as it seems, and leave the rest to me.'

  Melanie's throat felt curiously dry, and she swallowed with difficulty. 'Mr Kerr—'

  'Jason,' he interrupted her smoothly. 'You'll have to start calling me Jason if you want to sound at all convincing.'

  The unreality of the situation she had landed herself into suddenly hit her with the force of a sledgehammer, and she felt herself reeling mentally under the impact. In order to prote
ct Granny Bridget, she had placed herself within Jason Kerr's power, and he intended wielding that power without the slightest sign of mercy, it seemed.

  Closing her eyes for a moment against the onslaught of his rapier-sharp eyes, she whispered pleadingly, 'Please tell me this is some sort of nightmare I'm having?'

  She had not meant to speak her thoughts aloud, and she somehow expected a barrage of cynicism, but she was certainly unprepared for the crushing strength of his muscular arms and the bruising hardness of his mouth against her own. Alarm pulsed through her veins, but before she could react, she was set free.

  'Did that make it a little more realistic for you?'

  With her head spinning and her nervous system in complete disorder, she clutched wildly at the back of a chair for support, her fingers digging into the padded leather upholstery. 'That was unnecessary,' she croaked angrily.

  'You'll have to get used to my kisses, and the sooner the better,' he instructed callously, picking up her handbag and handing it to her before taking her arm and propelling her towards the door. 'And to add to the realism, I'm taking you out to buy an engagement ring.'

  Her protests died on her lips as he glanced at her sharply, and she walked beside him in silence as they approached his secretary's desk.

  'Mrs Howard, I would like you to meet my fiancée, Melanie Ryan.'

  Mrs Howard's eyebrows rose a fraction at Jason's introduction, but she controlled herself admirably and smiled with unaffected warmth at Melanie, murmuring her congratulations before returning her attention to her employer.

  'Are you going out, Mr Kerr?'

  Jason nodded briefly in the affirmative. 'Cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon, and if Miss Cummings telephones, tell her I shall see her this evening.'

  'Very well, Mr Kerr.'

  Melanie wondered vaguely who 'Miss Cummings' was, but Jason hurried her into the lift, and her stomach shot up into her throat, making speech impossible as they were swept down to the basement. She was not in the least surprised when he unlocked the door of a sleek, silver-grey Jaguar and helped her into it. It was to be expected that a man like Jason Ken-would select a car that offered him power as well as comfort.

  During the drive from the industrial area to the city centre, Melanie maintained the silence between them, but, in the confined space of the car, she found herself becoming increasingly aware of him. His strong hands rested lightly and confidently on the steering wheel, giving the impression that, as with everything else, he was in complete control, and she noticed for the first time the fine black hair on the back of his hand and at his wrist, where his gold watch glinted in the sunlight. His profile was stern, she noticed as she glanced at him covertly, the high bridge of his nose and the square chin denoting strength, and his mouth…! She looked away quickly, her heart skipping a beat as she felt again the pressure of his lips against her own. There was a hint of cruelty about his mouth; it was one of the first things she had noticed about him, and she had no doubt that, for Granny Bridget's sake, she would yet experience that cruelty in all its facets.

  She fumbled nervously with the seat belt when he eventually parked the car at the entrance to an illustrious jeweller shop and, frowning with impatience, Jason brushed her hands aside and undid the belt, but his hand inadvertently brushed against her thigh, and she was forced to avert her head swiftly as she felt embarrassment stinging her cheeks.

  The next half hour became part of the nightmare as she found herself seated beside Jason with several trays of rings displayed before her. Dazzled by the brilliance of the stones, and feeling more like a prisoner who had been given the honour of selecting his own handcuffs, she shrank physically and mentally from a task which should, under different circumstances, have been accomplished with joyous anticipation.

  'Is this really necessary?'

  'Very necessary,' Jason replied, his lips tightening ominously. 'A man in my position doesn't become engaged without buying his fiancée an engagement ring.'

  'But—'

  'Give me your hand.'

  It was a command, and she found herself obeying, albeit with some reluctance, but she found difficulty in explaining the sensations that seemed to spiral up her arm as her small hand lay against his warm palm.

  While Jason studied her hand and the tray of rings, Melanie took the opportunity to study him, her glance lingering on the dark, heavy eyebrows, and the thick black lashes fringing his eyes. She raised her glance to his short dark hair which was brushed back severely from his broad forehead, and it was with a certain amount of surprise that she noticed the smattering of grey at his temples. He was, after all, in his late thirties, she told herself, but the thought of someone so virilely masculine ageing in the usual manner was almost unacceptable to her.

  'This should do,' Jason interrupted her thoughts and, pulling herself together, she glanced down at her hand to find him placing a ring on her finger that was beautiful enough to make the most reluctant heart quicken with pleasure.

  A large diamond nestled in the centre of the delicate setting with, on either side of it, a deep blue sapphire which was cut slightly smaller. Melanie held her breath, knowing it was expected of her to say something, but finding herself unable to do so.

  'The sapphires match your eyes,' Jason remarked, surprising her out of her stunned silence with this knowledge.

  'It's beautiful,' she whispered inadequately, aware of his searching glance, but refusing to meet his eyes for fear of the mockery she would see there.

  The seconds seemed to tick by endlessly before she felt him move beside her and heard his clipped command to the assistant.

  'We'll take it… as well as the wedding ring.'

  The wedding ring! Oh, God!… would some miracle not save her from this marriage which circumstance was forcing her into? If only her father had not gambled away his possessions so foolishly. If only he had sought a loan elsewhere. If only… if only…! Futile words that brought only pain and left the past unaltered. The future was what mattered now, and how she would be able to cope with the burden which she had placed so firmly on her own shoulders.

  Melanie was in a daze when they finally left the shop. She was only vaguely aware of climbing into the silver-grey Jaguar, and of Jason's hands fastening the safety belt securely about her. The ring on her finger sparkled and glittered in the afternoon sunlight, awakening her to the stark reality of the situation, and mocking her frantic but feeble thoughts of escape. It was only when the car's tyres crunched up the long driveway of Greystone Manor that she made an effort to shake off. the fit of depression she had allowed herself to sink into.

  'Perhaps it would be better if I saw your grandmother now and got it over with,' Jason suggested as he helped her from the car.

  Alarm swept over her as she raised her frightened eyes and met the intense scrutiny of his grey glance. 'I thought I would speak to her alone first, before…'

  'I think not,' he said abruptly, cupping her elbow in his hand and sending that current of awareness surging through her again. 'Come on.'

  With her hand on the polished brass knob of the heavy oak door, Melanie hesitated. 'Mr Kerr… Jason…'

  'I shall behave like an adoring fiancé, have no fear,' he interrupted her, guessing with embarrassing accuracy the reason for her hesitation, and taking diabolical pleasure in increasing her humiliation by adding, 'Just make, sure that you respond in a similar fashion.'

  With her cheeks flaming and her back rigid with anger, she turned the handle and led the way inside, only just succeeding in composing herself as they entered the living-room to find her grandmother seated in an armchair, with a rug thrown over her knees and the uniformed Sister in attendance.

  'Sister Wilson, may we see my grandmother alone for a few minutes?' Melanie asked with a calmness she was far from experiencing as she became aware of Jason's arm about her and the possessive warmth of his hand at her side where she could feel her heart pounding wildly. Surely he must feel it too? she thought nervousl
y.

  Sister Wilson glanced from Melanie's flushed face to Jason and back, her smile deepening as she appeared to grasp the situation. 'Of course, my dear. Just ring the bell if you should need me.'

  'Granny Bridget…' Melanie began, escaping from the disturbing circle of Jason's arm as the door closed behind Sister Wilson, and moving towards the old woman's chair. 'I would like you to meet Jason Kerr.'

  'Jason Kerr?' Bridget Ryan repeated slowly, her eyes, dulled with age yet nevertheless alert, raised towards the man before her. 'I've heard that name before. You have something to do with Cyma Engineering, don't you?'

  'Absolutely correct, Mrs Ryan,' Jason replied as he came forward to take the hand she extended towards him, and Melanie stared in amazement at the transformation in the man standing beside her. With his austere features relaxed into a genuine smile he was actually devilishly attractive, and Melanie's pulse quickened in the most absurd manner.

  Jason pulled an armchair closer for Melanie, and she glanced up at him thankfully, but only barely concealed her consternation when he lowered himself on to the arm of her chair. With his thigh brushing against her arm and his hand resting casually on her shoulder, her throat went dry, and she found it extraordinarily difficult to concentrate on what her grandmother was saying.

  'What brings you here to Greystone Manor with my granddaughter, Mr Kerr?'

  'Gran, Jason and I…' Melanie plunged into speech, but she found herself unable to continue when her grandmother's glance, widening with dawning comprehension, was directed at her.

  'What Melanie is trying to say, Mrs Ryan,' Jason came to her rescue, 'is that we've become engaged, and that we would like your blessing.'

  'Engaged?' Bridget Ryan's voice echoed in surprise as she glanced from one to the other. 'Melanie, you never gave any indication that you had such plans?'

  'It… was rather sudden, Gran,' Melanie explained lamely.

  'Sudden?'

  'Melanie means that we knew from the moment we met that we were meant for each other,' Jason came to her rescue once more. 'Isn't that so, Melanie?'

 

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