by Kay Thorpe
‘We share something special.’
‘Did,’ she corrected. ‘As in past tense.’
‘Wrong,’ he assured with quiet emphasis.
Lianne didn’t attempt to misunderstand him. ‘Sexual chemistry?’
‘That, too.’
‘It’s been months, Tyler,’ she reminded with wry cynicism. ‘If you thought what we shared was worth saving…what kept you?’
He regarded her steadily. ‘You refused to take my calls, and if I did manage to connect you hung up on me.’
The waiter arrived and presented their starters, then he discreetly disappeared.
‘And your point is?’
‘I wanted to fly out here and drag you back to New York.’ Except events had conspired against him.
‘Kidnapping is a serious crime, bearing in mind I’d never have gone with you willingly.’
‘That did occur to me.’
‘How astute,’ she accorded sweetly.
‘My father was killed in a car accident.’
The news shocked her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed with genuine sincerity. ‘When?’
‘Three days after you left.’
Lianne closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. She could only imagine his mother’s pain, his. Not to mention the added business responsibilities necessary to ensure that Blair Benedict’s industrial empire suffered minimum setback during the transition period in directorship.
It didn’t help that she hadn’t known. Hadn’t had the opportunity to express her condolences.
‘I’m sorry,’ she reiterated with genuine remorse.
‘Then there was Mette.’
‘The incredible feline with claws of steel.’ She couldn’t help herself. Dammit, she’d suffered beneath the model’s poisonous tongue and the scars inflicted had been painfully real. Too real, for they still stung. ‘What reason did she give for needing you at her side? A stint in rehab?’ She was on a roll. ‘An offer you couldn’t refuse?’
‘Mette was diagnosed with a malignant inoperable brain tumour a week after you walked out.’ He spared her a long contemplative look. ‘As you know, there’s a lifelong connection between her family and mine.’ He paused in reflection. ‘My mother needed my support for a time. I also had to oversee my father’s extensive business interests. A request to hospital-visit Mette each week during that time didn’t appear unreasonable.’ He paused, then added quietly, ‘I accompanied Mother to Mette’s funeral last week.’ Within thirty-six hours he had been aboard his private jet to Melbourne.
It explained why Mette had disappeared from the European catwalks and the social pages. ‘She loved you.’ Was obsessed by you, Lianne added silently. To the point where she would have done anything, hurt anyone, in her bid to claim you as her own.
Tyler’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘I didn’t love her. At no time did I give Mette any indication we could be anything but friends.’
He wouldn’t have had to, Lianne reflected silently. He possessed an inherent male presence that meshed intense sensuality with an animalistic sense of power. Add charm, a hint of leashed savagery, and the effect was dramatic and incredibly potent.
Women coveted his attention, some more blatantly than others, but none were so determined as Mette had been.
‘So you said at the time.’ She retained a vivid memory of the accusations she’d flung at him, the angry words, and his denial.
‘You could, should, have trusted me,’ he chastised with deceptive mildness.
‘We’ve already done this.’
‘In anger,’ Tyler agreed. ‘I’d like to run it through again. This time—’
‘With truth, and rationale?’ Lianne posed carefully.
‘I can’t stop you from trying.’
He replaced his cutlery and pushed his plate aside before leaning back in his chair, his expression contemplative as he regarded her. ‘Mette really did a number on you.’ There was a degree of wry resignation apparent.
Lianne forked the last morsel of food on her plate and followed it with a sip of wine, then she carefully replaced the goblet on the table. ‘Am I supposed to thank you for acknowledging it?’
The pain was still there. He caught a glimpse of it in the thudding pulse at the base of her throat, the careful way she swallowed the wine.
‘Unfortunately, I had no control over what she chose to say to you.’
And Mette had said plenty. Even now, the bitter words echoed inside Lianne’s head. Instant recall, and not one word missed.
‘She was very convincing.’ Extremely so…to the point where it fell into the Oscar acting category.
‘Without any basis,’ Tyler assured.
‘I have only your word on that.’
The waiter appeared, topped up their goblets, removed their plates and retreated.
‘Which you choose not to believe.’
She met his gaze and held it, trying to read something from his expression and failing miserably. ‘You expect too much.’
‘I had hoped what we shared was worth fighting for.’
‘Oh, I fought, Tyler. Hard and long during our marriage.’ A year, dammit! ‘I won a few battles, but in the end Mette won the war.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Now, are we done?’
‘Not yet.’
‘I am.’ She stood and turned to leave, except his hand snaked out and caught hers before she could take a step.
‘Sit down.’
Lianne glared at him. ‘Let me go.’
‘Not in this lifetime.’ His voice was pure steel.
‘Tyler—’ She tried to wrench her hand free without success. ‘There’s no purpose to any of this.’
‘We can discuss it here, in the car, the apartment,’ he said silkily. ‘Your choice.’
Lianne recalled the letter she had written to him, stating she had no intention of returning to New York in the near future. She had acquired an unlisted phone number and had all her cellphone calls go to the message bank.
‘Your main,’ a voice intruded, and Lianne became aware of the waiter’s presence.
‘Is everything to your satisfaction? Would you prefer I hold the meal?’
‘Everything’s fine,’ Lianne assured as she tugged her hand free. ‘Unfortunately I need to leave.’
‘We both do,’ Tyler informed him smoothly. It took only seconds to retrieve a few notes from his wallet, more than enough to cover the meal, the wine, and provide a sizeable tip. Lianne managed to get as far as the door before he joined her.
She was a piece of work. He wanted to shake her, then kiss her senseless. Preferably here, now. So help him, he would if she so much as opened her mouth.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘Home,’ Lianne declared succinctly. She shot him a dark glance that lost much of its heat beneath the shadowy lighting.
‘My car is parked in the opposite direction,’ Tyler drawled.
She spotted a cruising taxi and hailed it, watching with satisfaction as it drew in to the kerb. ‘Goodnight.’ She reached for the door, only to have strong fingers close over her wrist.
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ The voice was silkily quiet close to her ear, and in one fluid movement Tyler opened the front passenger door, offered an apology, then despatched the driver on his way.
‘You had no right—’
‘Wrong.’ His fingers threaded her own and tightened measurably when she attempted to pull free.
Lianne gritted her teeth. ‘Fine.’ And dug her nails into his knuckles hard.
‘You want to play this out in public?’ Tyler’s query was deceptively mild as he turned towards her.
She tilted her chin. ‘Not anywhere.’
Smart, sassy, courageous…and stubborn as all get out. ‘Pity,’ he drawled. Without warning he shifted his hands to her shoulders and lowered his head, claiming her mouth with his own before she had a chance to resist.
Drowning would be an apt description as she felt her knees buckle, and she leaned in as one h
and fisted her hair while the other slid to the base of her spine, holding her there as he plundered her mouth.
It was all heat, fire and passion as he took her to the brink, fought her resistance and won.
A faint moan rose in her throat, and hands that had beat against his broad back moments before unclenched and slid up to link at his nape.
Magic. Mesmeric. Emotions swirled through her body and swept her high to a place where there was no room for thought. Only the meshing of something wild and primitive with a need for more…much more.
Lianne uttered a silent groan as she felt the potent hardness of his arousal pressing evocatively against her belly, the heavy sensual heat encompassing them both, and with it the unbearable desire to feel skin against skin.
He had the power to make her forget who she was…there was only him, and the electrifying witchery of raw desire.
Lianne had no idea how long they stood completely absorbed in each other. She only knew she didn’t want it to end, and she gave a murmur of protest as he began to soften the kiss, lingered gently, then lightly brushed her lips before raising his head.
The raucous sound of a car horn and a male voice shouting, ‘Get a room,’ brought a stark return to reality.
Hell, necking in plain sight on a public street wasn’t something she’d foolishly indulged in since her teens! Where was her sanity?
‘That was despicable,’ Lianne managed shakily as she pulled away from him.
‘The interruption?’ Tyler’s drawling voice held teasing amusement, and she reacted without thought as she aimed a fist at his shoulder.
He chose not to feint it, nor did he make a move to stop her as she hailed a taxi travelling in the opposite direction.
Instead he watched the vehicle perform a sweeping turn and pull into the kerb, collect Lianne, then move swiftly down the long stretch that was Toorak Road.
He could afford to let her go. Just as he’d been affected by what they’d just shared…so had she. And there was a sense of satisfaction in the knowledge.
Tyler stood for a minute watching the bright taillights disappear, then he turned and walked the short distance to his car.
Minutes later he slid in behind the wheel and fired the engine, then he sent the vehicle purring towards Brighton, heard the buzz of his cellphone and swung in to park kerb-side.
An international call, which precipitated another, then when he was done he cruised until he found a café, parked close by, and enjoyed the Italian-style ambience whilst indulging in a plate of seafood pasta. Not that food was a high priority, but a bouquet starter in an upmarket restaurant didn’t come close to comprising a satisfactory meal.
Lianne paid off the driver as soon as the taxi slid to a halt outside the entrance to her apartment block, and it took only seconds to clear security and summon a lift.
Fool. Cool, calm and collected, huh? Show Tyler she was over him and moving on with her life?
Yeah, sure. She’d melted out there. Right down to a stupid puddle. His, for the taking. And he’d taken.
Worse, was her response.
A groan in self-castigation didn’t come close to expressing how she felt as she unlocked her apartment and flipped the light switch.
The quiet solitude didn’t ease the feeling of helpless frustration as she entered the kitchen, filched bottled water from the refrigerator and took a long swallow.
It would have been infinitely more beneficial to pour herself a shot of whiskey and take it down in one gulp. Alcohol would dull the edges, but nothing…nothing would take away the memory of the kiss they’d shared a short while ago.
Tyler had managed to reach down and caress her soul. Her body still sang from his touch, her lips were swollen and she could taste his mouth, feel the way it had possessed her own.
He was as much a part of her as she was of him. Worse, he seemed bent on proving it to her by being constantly in her face. Just as she was intent on refusing to acknowledge that what had once existed between them was as alive and well now as it had been from the outset.
Lianne carried the bottled water into the lounge and stood at the set of wide glass doors giving view to the dark ocean waters.
Reflected light from various homes, apartment buildings and street lamps stood out against the backdrop of star-studded skies above, and she stared sightlessly out towards the horizon as she assessed the evening.
News of Blair Benedict’s sudden death had been shattering. So too, to a lesser degree, had been Mette’s terminal illness. Each of which had gone unnoticed by the Australian media.
If she’d taken one of Tyler’s calls…would it have made a difference? Changed her perspective?
Honesty compelled her to admit she didn’t know.
Lianne turned away and walked down the hallway. It wasn’t late but she coveted the sanctuary of her bedroom, and the possibility of facing Tyler again tonight was more than she could bear.
A brief penned note on the kitchen servery greeted Lianne the next morning.
In Sydney until Friday. Tyler.
He’d added his cellphone number.
Strategy or genuine business interests? Whatever…it provided a welcome respite, and she turned up the car stereo a little louder as she drove into the city.
Michael Sloane senior assigned various title searches, together with pending agreements for perusal and several phone calls to make on his behalf, a few internet searches and notations…all of which took her well into the late afternoon and the day’s conference call.
‘My wife is a committee member of a few charity organizations,’ Michael senior voiced as she prepared to leave his office.
Lianne gave him her interested attention. ‘How nice for her.’ Nice? Surely she could have come up with a better superlative?
‘There’s a major fund-raiser on Saturday evening,’ he informed, sending her a studied look. ‘As Tyler Benedict is new in town I’ve invited him to join our table.’ He paused. ‘He suggested you as a suitable partner.’
No. The denial was a silent scream. Don’t do this to me.
‘I’d consider it a tremendous favour if you’ll agree to accompany him.’
She had to hand it to Tyler…he was good. And devious, having Michael senior issue the suggestion, knowing full well she’d refuse if he extended the invitation himself.
‘It will be a pleasure,’ Lianne accepted politely, whilst mentally planning to verbally castigate Tyler at the first opportunity. ‘You’ll furnish details? Venue, time, meeting point?’
Michael senior inclined his head. ‘Of course. I appreciate you giving up your evening.’
She merely smiled in response.
Lianne joined the general exodus leaving the office at five, and she walked two blocks to the restaurant where she was due to meet Zoe for an evening meal before taking in a movie.
Light relief, she accorded as she threaded her way past several tables to where Zoe was already seated.
Tall, with classic features, liquid brown eyes, a mobile mouth and long sable hair, Zoe had been her closest friend since forever. They’d shared boarding school, puberty…sisters in every way except name.
‘Now, tell me why Tyler was in your apartment last night.’
‘No hello first?’ Lianne teased and met Zoe’s sparkling gaze.
‘Hi,’ Zoe responded obediently. ‘How are you? Now tell, before I expire from curiosity.’
She did, briefly, and glimpsed Zoe’s concern.
‘This is OK with you?’
Not OK at all, for all the obvious reasons. ‘His apartment, his building. He’s merely using a room to sleep in…not mine,’ she assured. ‘While he’s in Melbourne.’
‘And you believe that?’
‘About as much as you do.’
‘So, what’s the plan?’
Lianne effected an expressive eye-roll. ‘To stay out of his way as much as possible.’
‘Interesting.’ And difficult, Zoe determined silently, convinced Tyler had a different ag
enda in mind.
They ordered a light meal, followed it with coffee, then they crossed to the cinema-plex, bought tickets and viewed the current multi-Oscar nominated movie. Afterwards they lingered over coffee and bade each other goodnight.
‘Take care,’ Zoe offered with genuine sincerity, and Lianne reciprocated,
‘You, too.’
The weekend loomed, with no sign of Tyler. The slim hope Lianne held that he might not return in time for the Charity Benefit was dashed when she re-entered the apartment on Saturday morning after a punishing session at the gym to find him in the kitchen fixing coffee.
She was suddenly conscious of the way she looked. She felt a mess, her hair was damp from her exertion, her sweats clung, and her priority was a shower and change of clothes.
His dark grey eyes speared hers and she hated the familiar curling sensation in her stomach, the increased pulse-beat, at the sight of him.
It was almost as if her body recognised his on some base level and immediately went on to full alert.
It wasn’t a feeling she coveted or liked, and she silently damned him for his determination to turn her life upside down.
‘Good morning.’
His faint mocking smile was her undoing and she launched directly into attack mode.
‘Just what do you mean by having Michael Sloane senior act as your intermediary?’
Tyler leant back against the servery and regarded her steadily. ‘Whatever happened to “hello”?’ When she didn’t deign to answer he queried, ‘Specifically in reference to?’
‘Don’t play with me,’ she warned. ‘Tonight.’
‘Ah,’ he acknowledged in a silky drawl. ‘The Charity Benefit.’
‘That’s the one.’
‘You object?’
Lianne fluttered her eyelashes in mock parody. ‘Why, I’m absolutely thrilled and delighted. Partnering you is a dream come true.’ She dropped the pose. ‘Of course I object,’ she said fiercely. ‘What made you think I wouldn’t?’
‘Deal with it.’
She wanted to hit him, and almost gave in to the temptation. Except he’d never let her get away with it. The silent threat was there in his stance, his expression.
‘It’s my day for cleaning the apartment and doing the week’s grocery shopping,’ she said stiffly.