‘No. Ben is out camping with his scout group.’ She paused then decided not to tell him that Ben had not intended to go on this camp—until he’d heard about Declan Holmes spending the weekend with them. So she added instead with a scornful toss of her head, ‘I’m not in the habit of placing children in the line of fire, Declan.’
‘Good,’ he murmured. ‘Then allow me.’ And he picked up the bough. ‘Where do you want it?’
Arizona gazed at him for a long moment but his eyes were a placid, mild blue. ‘Over there, thanks,’ she said briskly, pointing towards a pile of timber. ‘I thought we might have a bonfire tomorrow night, if it doesn’t rain.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ he said casually. ‘Stay there, I’ll drive you up to the house.’
‘Won’t you be bored stiff—here for a whole week?’ she said abruptly as he drove the short distance to the front door.
‘No. Why should I?’
‘It’s not exactly a dashing lifestyle we pursue,’ she said with irony.
‘It’s not exactly a dashing lifestyle I’m after. And I thought it would be nice to—ride with you, swim with you, that sort of thing. We could also,’ he went on as she cast him a weary look, ‘go over the estate together and decide what needs to be done.’
‘There’s quite a lot—’ She broke off and castigated herself mentally.
‘Quite a lot to be done? Good—we’re here, Arizona,’ he murmured gravely, but his eyes were full of amusement.
‘Well, would you mind if I left you to Cloris’s tender mercies for a while, Declan?’ she returned swiftly and sweetly. ‘I rather desperately need a bath.’
‘Not at all, Arizona, not at all.’
She took with her, upstairs to the privacy of her own suite, a raging tendency to want to swish her tail like an angry lioness.
Her suite, which Pete had designed specially for her, comprised a bedroom, bathroom and study. The bedroom faced the sea and was large and airy with a pale green carpet, an exquisite, riotous bedspread with the same green background and dusky pink and soft lemon tulips all over it, and draped green curtains. The study overlooked the rose garden she’d started at the side of the house, and each piece of furniture, the desk, the lovely winged armchair with matching footstool, the bookcase, were lovingly chosen antiques.
None of it, although it was usually a haven of peace and privacy for her, brought her any peace, however, as she strode into the peach marble bathroom, ran the taps and stalked to her walk-in wardrobe. And she rifled through her clothes impatiently before choosing a pair of slim cream pants and a taupe knit top.
In fact it wasn’t until she was lying in the bath, surrounded by a sea of bubbles with her hair tied on top of her head, that she started to relax at all, and even then it was only in a limited sort of way. How am I going to cope with him in front of the children? she wondered despairingly. If they haven’t sensed my antipathy by now they must at least know we’re not the best of friends.
But although she soaked thoughtfully, then scrubbed and finally got out to dry herself on one of the outsize peach towels, no inspiration came to her. Perhaps I can only follow his lead, she mused dismally as she drew on her underwear and then her clothes and sat at the vanity table.
An avenging goddess, she thought bitterly as she studied her reflection. Damn the man! But I can’t go on thinking like that, can I? So what do I think about instead? she asked herself dryly as she brushed her hair until it shone and left it loose to float in a chestnut cloud to her shoulders. What it will be like to be married to him?
She closed her eyes briefly then smoothed moisturizer onto her skin and made up her face lightly, just a touch of foundation, a light lipstick and shaped her eyebrows with a little brush, and answered herself, No, I just can’t picture it but then again, I can’t picture how to extricate myself, either!
She stood up suddenly and caught sight. of herself in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. She was five foot nine and knew that she had a willowy figure with some luscious curves that attracted men like bees to a honeypot. Her mother had had the same kind of figure…. To go with it, she had smooth skin like pale honey, luminous grey eyes with dark-tipped lashes, a well-defined mouth, and she could look thoughtful and serious, sometimes serene and happy, often impatient and autocratic but always, according to Peter Adams, amazingly good to look at.
She sighed and turned away abruptly.
What she found when she went downstairs was not exactly what she’d expected. The table was laid for dinner in the large, bright kitchen, which was normal. But it could have only taken Declan’s charm to persuade Cloris to feed him in the kitchen. And he, the twins and Daisy were working on a model galleon in the rumpus room adjacent to the kitchen, separated by a half wall. Cloris was happily attending to a leg of lamb. It was a contented, domesticated scene. She paused just inside the doorway and thought of Ben, out camping in the windy darkness rather than being here, with a little sigh. But the only living thing that seemed to afford Ben any consolation these days was his horse, Daintry.
Declan Holmes looked up and saw her. ‘Arizona—’ he straightened ‘—you look…refreshed.’
‘Thanks,’ she said briefly, bit her lip then walked into the rumpus room. ‘How’s it going?’
‘I think we’re making progress.’ He looked at the three absorbed, bent heads around him, and Arizona suddenly remembered that he’d brought the galleon for the children on his last visit.
‘That was a good idea,’ she murmured, gesturing. ‘We keep it for that rather difficult hour to fill between bath time and dinner time.’
‘Yes,’ Daisy said earnestly. ‘We’re not allowed to touch it until we’ve had our baths.’
‘That’s why we’ve been so slow,’ Richard said ruefully. ‘We could have finished it weeks ago, couldn’t we, Sarah?’
‘Sure could.’ Sarah didn’t raise her head, so engrossed was she.
‘But that wouldn’t have been right,’ Daisy began.
Whereupon both the twins raised their heads and said exasperatedly, ‘Daisy, don’t start.’
‘I only mean—’
‘Come and have a drink,’ Arizona said wryly to Declan Holmes.
‘With pleasure.’ And when they were sitting in the lounge with their drinks, he said, ‘How do you cope with her?’
‘With patience and humour and just sometimes a desire to tear my hair out. Ben—’ She stopped.
‘Go on.’
‘Ben,’ she said after a moment, ‘is finding it particularly hard to take at the moment, but then he’s finding it all hard to take. I suppose—’ she bent her head and paused in thought then shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I’m worried about Ben. I can’t get through to him.’
‘I’ll have a chat to him when he gets home.’ He stretched his legs out and looked at her reflectively. ‘In some respects you’re amazingly mature, Arizona.’
‘And in other respects?’ she countered coolly.
‘That wasn’t meant as an insult.’
‘Perhaps I’m so used to them from you I just expect them.’
‘Or perhaps you’re determined to turn everything I say into one. But before—’ his lips twisted ‘—this degenerates into a slanging match, I meant that for someone of only twenty-three you’re—capable. You run this place well, you look after the children well.’
‘That still doesn’t explain what you meant by in some respects.’
‘At times,’ he said slowly, ‘your attitude to me is, well—’ he shrugged quite naive. And sometimes, very rarely, you look young and untouched—but that’s only when I catch you off guard.’
Arizona stared at him and felt an odd prickle beneath her skin. She was saved having to make a reply by Cloris announcing dinner.
‘For a mince-on-toast type of dinner, that was excellent,’ Declan murmured to her after they’d partaken of roast lamb with mint sauce, roast potatoes, pumpkin and sweet potato, baby green peas and rich gravy followed by an apple crumble and cr
eam.
Her mouth curved into a fleeting smile. ‘I would dearly have loved to serve you mince on toast tonight but of course I didn’t reckon on Cloris.’
‘Mince on toast!’ Cloris said right on cue and in a scandalized manner. ‘I only ever give you that for breakfast. What could you have been thinking of, Arizona?’
‘Don’t worry about it, Cloris,’ Arizona murmured with a wry look. ‘Just me being foolish, or is it naive? Okay, kids.’ She stood up. ‘One hour of television since it’s Friday night and your favourite program is due to start in ten minutes, which will give you time to give Cloris a hand! And we could take our coffee into the office, Declan. There are a few things you might be interested to see.’
Declan Holmes stood up. ‘Unfortunately I have a few calls to make, Arizona. May I use the office for those first? And your fax? We can have our little get-together when I’m finished.’
‘By all means,’ Arizona replied airily, although she was actually seething inside. ‘I have a million things to do myself—in fact I have a better idea. Let’s leave it until tomorrow!’
‘Oh, no,’ he said smoothly. ‘Later this evening will do fine.’ And he further infuriated her by helping Cloris and the children clear the table.
It was nine o’clock—she’d spun out the bedtime stories and rituals as long as she could, consoling herself that it was Friday night—before they came together again. And this time he was waiting for her in the lounge when she came downstairs, slightly dishevelled, after an energetic romp with the children before putting their lights out firmly.
‘How about that coffee now, Arizona?’ he drawled and indicated the trolley with a bubbling percolator that Cloris had left.
‘Thank you, yes.’ She walked over to the mirror above the fireplace and ran her fingers through her hair.
‘All bedded down and correct?’ he queried as he poured. She turned away from the mirror.
‘Hopefully.’
‘Lucky kids,’ he commented and handed her a cup.
She sat down in her usual chair, wondered what to say but before she had a chance to wonder much, he said, ‘There are a couple of things we ought to discuss, Arizona.’ And sat down opposite her.
‘I’m sure there are.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t feel much like it at the moment, though.’
‘Well—’ he paused and looked at her wryly ‘—perhaps that’s what we should discuss first.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she murmured and smothered a yawn.
‘I mean, taking the first step towards—putting you in the mood for everything we need to sort out.’
‘I still don’t know what you mean,’ she said and stopped abruptly.
‘My dear Arizona,’ he said a little dryly, ‘we’re going to have to start somewhere and some time.’
‘If you’re talking about going to bed—’
‘By no means,’ he interrupted with an amused, mocking little look. ‘Just getting to know each other a little better. I certainly wouldn’t expect you to sleep with me without some sort of a—courtship beforehand.’
‘Declan, if you expect me to indulge in some petting with you,’ she said witheringly, ‘you’re wasting your time!’
‘Don’t you go in for that sort of thing? I don’t blame you,’ he said ruefully. ‘It sounds awful.’
‘Then what?’ she demanded.
‘We could try something a bit more sophisticated,’ he suggested.
‘Along the same lines but by a different name?’ she said bitterly. ‘No, thanks.’
‘So you object to it by any name,’ he murmured. ‘Only with me?’
She stared at him and frowned. ‘I don’t think I get your drift.’
‘I was just wondering whether you’re at all awakened, Arizona..I’ve wondered it before, and then you did tell me that Pete wasn’t a grand passion, if they exist, quote unquote,’ he said gently, but it was a fairly lethal sort of gentleness.
Arizona reacted in several ways. She mentally bit her lip at the same time as she mentally took umbrage and finally came out fighting. ‘Wouldn’t that be a disaster,’ she murmured with a faint smile. ‘To think that you, Declan Holmes, who could probably have any woman he chose, took a frigid bride—dear me!’
‘I didn’t say frigid,’ he replied after subjecting her to an insolently considering little scrutiny—from her head to her toes but particularly the curves in between. ‘I said unawakened, which is an entirely different thing, Arizona.’
‘Oh, I know!’ she conceded with some mockery and added an insolence of her own. ‘I also know how particularly prone men are to imagining they and they alone will be the one to do this… awakening.’
He narrowed his blue eyes thoughtfully. ‘And that sounds as if you have cause to be particularly cynical on the subject, Arizona. Like to tell me why?’
‘No—that is,’ she amended after the first bleak negative sprang to her lips, ‘you don’t have to be a genius or particularly cynical to work it out. Men—’ she waved a hand ‘—are men.’
‘How entirely magnificently damning,’ he said, but this time with genuine amusement.
‘Not especially,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Just realistic.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Was Pete like that?’
She looked at him straightly. ‘I’ve told you before, Declan, that’s none of your business.’
‘And I disagreed with you, Arizona, but we won’t pursue it at the moment—’
‘You’re going to find it hard to pursue at any moment,’ she said impatiently and stood up. ‘I think I’ll go to bed, if you don’t mind.’
‘Yes, I do mind,’ he said simply.
She looked at him incredulously. ‘You don’t imagine you can dictate what time I go to bed, surely?’
‘Do you usually go to bed at this time?’ he countered.
‘No,’ she said unwisely, ‘but—’
‘Then you’re only being childish,’ he said mildly. ‘Sit down and finish your coffee.’
Sheer frustration caused her to sit down. ‘I’m not a child—how dare you treat me like one?’
‘All right.’ He laid his head back and regarded her with a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘Would you rather I said you were being tiresomely female?’
‘No, I would not,’ she replied shortly. ‘Because, if anything, you’re being tiresomely male. If you want me to stay we’ll need to talk about something else.’
‘Such as?’
‘Scawfell, the kids, the weather—we have a huge range at our disposal.’ She regarded him with a tinge of malice.
He laughed. ‘Why don’t we try something a bit more interesting. How you grew up and where, for example.’
‘Wherever it was the whim of my mother to be at the time,’ Arizona said briefly.
‘What about your father?’
‘I never knew him. He…deserted my mother upon discovering she was pregnant.’
‘Ah,’ Declan Holmes said.
‘What does that mean?’ she enquired tartly.
‘Why you’re anti-men—’
‘I’m not. I would never have marrried one if that was the case.’
‘Perhaps you married Pete for other reasons. Such as security, all this.’ He overrode her as she opened her mouth. ‘And perhaps,’ he continued, ‘it wasn’t only the security of his supposed wealth you sought, Arizona, but protection from other men.’
Arizona set her teeth and gazed at him angrily. ‘Such as you, Declan? You could be right.’
‘Am I?’ he murmured, unperturbed.
‘That’s something you’ll have to work out for yourself,’ she returned. ‘I’m amazed the thought occurred to you,’ she added candidly. ‘I assumed you thought I was all bad.’
‘Not at all. I’ve told you you’re a good stepmother, a good manager et cetera.’
‘You’ve also offered me, by way of marriage, the inducement of your wealth, Declan. If that�
��s not the ultimate insult, I don’t know what is.’
‘You forget that I also offered you the means to keep together a family that means a lot to you. But principally, you’re forgetting the kind of…pleasure we could bring to each other.’ He looked at her blandly.
‘Yes, well, I only have your word for that—it didn’t take long to get back to that subject, did it? I am really going to bed now, Declan.’ She stood up with an air of finality written all over her.
He laughed at her softly and wickedly but stood up. ‘Very well, my dear. Good night.’
‘Is that all?’ Arizona said unguardedly and feeling as if she’d had the wind taken out of her sails.
‘What more would you like?’ he asked with a hatefully raised eyebrow. ‘I thought you were dead set against any demonstrations of… affection.’
She turned away abruptly and with a slight flush staining her cheeks. ‘I am.’
‘Although we could always shake hands,’ he murmured from right behind her. ‘Would that be in keeping with your view of our relationship, Arizona? A purely business affair.’
‘Yes,’ she said through her teeth, swinging back. ‘You’ve got one thing right at last, Declan.’
But he still looked only wickedly amused, and she was suddenly acutely conscious of his height and physique, the way his clothes sat on his well-built frame and how wide his shoulders looked beneath the white-knit sports shirt, how lean his torso and long his legs in his khaki trousers…
She realized suddenly and too late that she’d unwittingly fallen prey to that curl of interest Declan Holmes had been able, always able, she thought with a pang, to arouse in her, but not only that, make her hate herself for. All right, she thought then and tossed her head, you’ve always dealt with it before, do so again, Arizona!
She held out her hand. ‘A businesslike handshake, Declan? Why not.’
He took her hand but didn’t shake it. Instead, he examined it thoughtfully and said finally, ‘An elegant hand, Arizona. But I’m glad you don’t go in for long, talon-like nails.’
Married for Real (Harlequin Presents) Page 3