by Helen Brooks
‘Fabia...’ Her name was a groan on his lips as he bent to nuzzle his face in the soft silk of her hair, his mouth moving to her ears and throat in soft feather-like kisses that brought an immediate hot ache trembling forth in her lower stomach, and as his mouth fastened on hers with a touch of violence in its intensity she found herself straining to meet his need with her body even as her mind told her this was madness.
‘Why do you fight me when it could always be like this?’ His voice was so soft that she could barely hear it and as she felt his fingers on the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse she shut her eyes tightly. She had to stop this; what was she doing...?
‘No, please, Alex...’ Her voice was lost as he claimed her mouth again, and as she felt her bra slip and his fingers move to cup the silky fullness of her breasts a piercingly sweet pleasure took over her senses at the same time as a little cold voice hammered into her brain, Again? You are inviting all this again? And with him?
‘I said no!’ As she wrenched herself backwards out of his arms she pulled her blouse so violently across her chest that she felt the thin material tear. ‘Don’t touch me!’
‘What the—?’ As he saw the panic in her eyes his hands, which had gone out to grasp her, froze in mid-air, a stillness taking over his features as he turned away, walking over to the other side of the room and standing with his back bent and his hands resting palm down on the small coffee-table as he struggled for control.
She sank down into the chair she had vacated, her mind numbed and blank and her breath coming in little panting sobs. They remained suspended in a frozen tableau for a full minute and then he raised himself slowly, turning and looking over to where she sat huddled in the chair, his eyes as cold as ice.
‘I don’t know what all that was about, Fabia, but if you thought you could twist your way out of doing what I want you are dead wrong.’ She stared at him silently, her eyes huge in her white face. ‘You owe me and you are going to pay your debt. You’ll come to Cumbria and behave beautifully, not a foot—not a toe—out of place. Do you understand?’
‘I hate you.’ As her whispered words reached him his face stiffened.
‘Maybe.’ His voice grew softer. ‘But you’re still coming. And afterwards I shall let you go, a few days older but a whole lot wiser.’
‘You can’t make me—’
‘I can and I will, sweetheart.’ He was calmer now but with a ruthless severity that was more chilling than his anger. ‘I’ve given you every chance and you’ve blown it. Well, such is life.’ He shook his head slowly as he walked to the door, his eyes resting on her face with a touch of biting contempt in their gold depths.
‘I don’t like to be played with, and, until you learn that, life is going to be very difficult.’ He paused with his hand on the handle. ‘And a word of warning: don’t try and escape again, Fabia. The world isn’t big enough to hide you. One of the advantages of having money is that it makes the world considerably smaller. I’ll be in touch. Goodnight.’
It was a full minute before she could persuade her trembling legs to move after he had left, and then she stumbled over to the door, shooting the bolt into place with shaking hands and sinking down on to the carpet weakly.
He had trapped her! She groaned softly. Or maybe she had trapped herself? Why, oh, why had she told Brian she was spending Christmas with Alex? She could have handled Brian, but not this man. Not this man with his tawny cat-like eyes that could harden into stone and his limitless, terrifying wealth. He was too powerful to fight, with his sensual charm and compelling sexuality, and she seemed to have no defence against him. At the last thought she stiffened. No! He could attempt to subjugate her, impose his will over hers, but the final outcome would be up to her. She raised herself from the floor slowly. And, as sure as she drew breath, never, never again in the whole of her life would she allow herself to be crushed and defeated, broken at the feet of some man. She would rather die first.
She straightened her slender shoulders for battle, her mouth set in grim determination. She would go with Alexander Cade to his grandmother’s home and act the part that fate, and a big golden-eyed barbarian, had allotted to her to the best of her ability. She had no other choice. But if he thought he had won he was wrong! Her eyes narrowed ominously.
He would never reach the real Fabia Grant, never touch the woman who had been born that night seven years ago amid heartbreak, disillusion and bitter humiliation, never touch the core on which she had built a new life.
She simply wouldn’t let him.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘ARE you warm enough?’ Fabia started violently as Alex’s cool, quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she replied stiffly, and he nodded slowly with his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the windscreen wipers clearing the snow from the glass in steady monotonous rhythm. They had been driving for an hour and the snow was coming down thicker now, fat starry flakes patterning the cold glass for a split-second before the wipers cleared them relentlessly from view, the midday sky heavy and bleak.
She flexed her toes in the warmth from the car heater, reflecting silently that the smart high-heeled shoes that had seemed so appropriate in London were fast becoming most unsuitable in view of the worsening weather. The snow was already several inches thick and showed no signs of abating; in fact the thick grey sky promised much more. Still, it couldn’t be helped. She glanced at Alex’s severe profile from under her lashes, her stomach tightening as it dawned on her afresh that she was committed to this man’s company for a whole week. Christmas had never arrived so quickly, she thought wryly.
‘Having second thoughts?’ As the flecked gold eyes pierced her own for a moment, she forced herself to show no reaction to the taunt, waiting a full minute before she replied.
‘Second thoughts don’t apply to this situation, do they? You forced me to come with you; I had no choice.’
‘Not at all,’ he said calmly. ‘The choice was very clear—take the consequences of your actions or join me for a pleasurable break from routine. I would agree that it wasn’t a very difficult choice in the circumstances, but a choice nevertheless.’ The hard tawny eyes gleamed at her. ‘Don’t you agree?’ He was close, much too close for comfort.
She shrugged her answer, turning her gaze from his to stare out into the sparkling silver world surrounding them, the trees and bushes proudly displaying their new coats of glittering virginal white, as she struggled to control her traitorous body. ‘Don’t sulk, Fabia, it’s a most unattractive habit.’ Her eyes shot up to meet his again and she saw he was smiling coolly as hot colour flooded into her face.
‘I’m not sulking,’ she said furiously. ‘I’ve got nothing to say and so I’m keeping quiet.’
‘A woman who knows when to be quiet?’ The dark voice was tauntingly soft. ‘There is no end to the surprises that you foist upon me, Miss Grant, is there? A veritable Pandora’s box of wonders.’ The velvet tones were mockingly warm.
‘Oh, shut up.’ It was weak, but the best she could do, and for the next few minutes they continued in silence.
Then he spoke again, his deep voice faintly disapproving. ‘Haven’t you got any boots? You’re going to be soaked as soon as we leave the car.’
She flushed at his glance at her tiny feet. ‘Of course I’ve got some boots,’ she replied tersely. ‘If you remember, it wasn’t snowing when we left London and I just didn’t choose to wear them.’
‘A somewhat unwise decision in the present circum-stances.’ He slanted a quick glance at her stiff profile. ‘And do stop looking as though you’re being led to your execution.’
‘Why?’ she countered quickly. ‘That’s exactly how I feel.’
‘Fabia, Fabia, Fabia...’ He sighed mockingly. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
‘That’s exactly what’s worrying me,’ she said with more than a grain of truth in the sarcasm. She was conscious of his eyes narrowing as all amusement left the hard face, and when he next spok
e his voice was devoid of all banter.
‘Look, Fabia, there are probably a couple of things we need to get clear,’ he said slowly, his eyes intent on the road ahead. Her heart lurched sickeningly as she glanced at the grim face and then her chin rose in unspoken defiance. Here it came, the iron hand in a velvet glove. This was the moment he explained, ever so nicely, the sleeping arrangements...
‘The last time we met I wasn’t quite myself.’ There was a trace of derision in the deep voice but not, she felt, directed at her. ‘I may have given you the impression—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Well, that last little trick was the straw that broke the camel’s back and this particular camel is not known for his patience.’ She could believe it. The firm hard mouth was a give-away. ‘I have no intention of using you as one of Santa’s playmates. You understand me?’ She nodded slowly. ‘And if this next week isn’t going to be a nightmare for us both I would suggest we reach some sort of amicable agreement and keep to it. I will respect your space and you’ll respect mine but in public we will be...believable.’ The big body was quite motionless.
‘How believable?’ she asked carefully as her heart pounded.
He gave a harsh bark of a laugh, his expression unreadable. ‘You’re quite refreshing, you know, like a douse of cold water on a summer’s day.’ She glanced at him warily, unsure if he was laughing at her or not, but the closed enigmatic face gave nothing away. Her nerves jangled as she looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time that day. Why did he have to be so deliciously attractive? ‘I mean it.’ The gold eyes flicked over her for a spine-tingling moment. ‘Most of the women I know are only too pleased to claim an alliance with the Cade name.’ His tone was full of self-mockery and she stared at him for a moment. She didn’t understand him, not at all.
‘Well, extreme wealth carries its own set of problems, as you’ve said,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s one of the penal-ties—’
‘There is no need to offer sympathy,’ he said scathingly, his voice cutting. ‘I’m quite aware of all my assets, Fabia, and how to use them.’ She flushed scarlet at the icy rebuff, at the same time as a flood of hot anger turned her eyes brilliant. He was a pig! An autocratic, handsome pig, maybe, but still a pig! ‘So...a truce?’ She glared at him, but the gesture was lost as he concentrated on the snow-covered road ahead. ‘Fabia?’ he persisted.
‘OK,’ she muttered grudgingly. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘Ah, what I want,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Now that is a whole different ball-game, but let’s not digress. Sufficient unto the day and all that...’ He was playing with her, she could feel it. She stared straight ahead into the pale wintry world outside as her thoughts raced. She didn’t trust him an inch and especially not when he was being cool and imperturbable, like now. He was so used to everything just falling into his lap! The thought of being on his lap suddenly made her quite hot and she forced her mind into safer areas.
‘There’s a little pub up ahead,’ he said some time later, as the powerful car nosed carefully through the swirling snowstorm which had reached blizzard proportions. ‘Fancy a bite to eat?’
She was about to refuse and then realised that his large sturdy frame had been crouched over the wheel of the low-slung sports car for almost two hours while he negotiated them round drifts and past snow-obscured obstacles as they ventured ever deeper into the silent countryside. She had tentatively suggested half an hour ago that it might be wiser to turn back, but the low growl that had greeted her words had dissuaded her from repeating them. ‘Lovely,’ she said instead, her voice over-bright as he narrowly missed a large bird that flew out of nowhere, wings flapping madly.
‘Damn pheasants,’ he muttered irritably, and in spite of her concern for the hapless pheasant she felt a quick rush of pleasure that he could be caught off guard like any ordinary mortal. Because he wasn’t like any other man she had come into contact with! The thought speared her mind and she was glad he was concentrating so hard on his driving and couldn’t notice her face. It wasn’t his wealth or his influence that attracted the women, she acknowledged silently, but the man himself. He had an aura of mystery, of fascination, aloof and cold and withdrawn at the same time as exuding a bewitching charm that beckoned even as it rebuffed. He was so...complete. She nodded mentally to herself. He was the most complete man she had ever met. Did he have any weaknesses? She doubted it.
‘That’s it, up ahead, where the lights are.’ She looked into the distance and could just make out a faint glimmer now and again in the seconds when the windscreen was clear. ‘I could murder those weathermen,’ he added grimly. ‘This little lot was supposed to hold off until tomorrow. If I’d known we were in for this we could have left yesterday.’
‘I couldn’t,’ she said quickly. ‘It was difficult enough to leave two days early for Christmas as it was. I—’
‘Oh, you would have, Fabia,’ he said quietly without looking at her. ‘You would have.’ There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his voice.
She bit back the hot angry words hovering on her tongue with enormous self-control, realising that at this moment in time he needed all his energy and concentration if they were to make the little inn safely, let alone his grandmother’s home.
When they drew into the tiny space in the car park that wasn’t covered by mountainous powdery drifts she sighed audibly with relief. ‘Thank goodness. I didn’t think we’d make it this far back there.’
He glanced at her in surprise, his light brown eyes with their thick lashes enquiring. ‘You didn’t? But there was no problem.’ His face was calm and relaxed.
‘No problem?’ She stared at him. He seemed even closer now that the engine was stilled and she was conscious of the delicious male smell of aftershave on clean taut skin.
‘No problem at all,’ he repeated softly, turning in his seat and sliding one arm at the back of her shoulders. ‘In the unlikely event that the car should break down I’d carry you to safety. I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. Do you believe that?’ She sensed he was asking her more than the surface question his words held, and for a moment in time she let her eyes be held by the hypnotic power of his tawny gaze before turning abruptly away, lowering her head so that the silky mass of her hair hid her face from his piercing eyes. He was too close, too...knowing.
‘No, I don’t think I do,’ she said shakily, annoyed to hear the tremor in her voice. If she could hear it, so could he.
‘I hope one day you will,’ he said softly, so softly that she could barely hear him. She didn’t look up and after a moment he opened his door and walked round the car to her side, stopping her as she made to climb out. ‘Wait.’ Before she realised what he was about to do he had bent down and scooped her out of the warm interior as though she were a small child, straightening with her in his arms and kicking the door shut with his foot.
‘Alex! Put me down.’ Her voice wasn’t as indignant as she would have liked it to be. The feel of his arms about her and the hard strong face just an inch from her own was doing crazy things to her insides, and he was holding her so tightly.
‘Why?’ He smiled down at her lazily as the snowflakes fell into the tawny brown richness of his hair. ‘You don’t want wet feet, do you?’ He brushed his lips against the silk of her hair.
Wet feet were the least of her worries at this moment in time, Fabia reflected faintly as he began to walk with her towards the small arched pub door. It felt deceptively good to be held close to his heart like this, deceptive because the rich promise of his big body and strong arms wouldn’t be worth the price she would have to pay ultimately. When it ended. As it inevitably would.
He’s not Robin, a little voice whispered tantalisingly in her head as they reached the snow-covered steps leading to the pub door, but the other voice was stronger, the voice that said coldly and quite dispassionately that she was here providing a service, for a time. He hadn’t even tried to lie about that. She was an available commodity hired for a specific purpose and when her wor
k was done he would dispatch her back into her own life without another thought. Just like Robin. They came from a different world, these wealthy, spoilt men, a world where they spoke and it was done. She had to remember that, had to!
‘There we are.’ He set her down just outside the door and leant over her to push it open, his snow-covered coat brushing against her face. ‘In you go.’
The warmth and colour of a blazing log fire at one end of the small room reached out to greet them as they entered and almost immediately a large, burly red-faced giant of a man appeared from a small passageway to one side of the bar. ‘Didn’t expect anyone to venture out tonight,’ he began jovially, his face breaking into a grin as he saw who his customers were. ‘Why, it’s Mr Cade, isn’t it? Come down for the Christmas break, sir? You picked the right day for it!’
‘Didn’t I just, George,’ Alex returned easily with a warm smile. ‘Meet Miss Grant. Come to keep me company in case I get lonely.’ He turned to Fabia with a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’
She looked at him hard for a moment, disliking the innuendo, and then smiled carefully. ‘Anything you say, o lord and master. I’m yours to command.’ She curtsied prettily, her eyes cold.
George laughed cheerfully in the background, his rough face frankly envious. ‘Been trying to get the missus to say that for years,’ he said as he began polishing a tray of glasses standing to one side of the ancient till. ‘You’ll have to let me know your secret some time, Mr Cade.’
Alex smiled at the man as he took Fabia’s arm, drawing her over towards the seat by the fire, but she could sense he hadn’t liked her little act. It was there in the tightening of his hard jaw and the grip of his fingers on her flesh. ‘What would you like to drink? A glass of water?’ His smile had a twist in it that she didn’t miss, and she glanced up at him defiantly as she sat down, her eyes fiery and her back stiff.