Knight to the Rescue

by Miranda Lee

  Thinking about him sent her eyes sliding surreptitously sidewards, her gaze settling on his classically handsome profile. It followed the lines of his strong straight nose down to his mouth, into which he was scooping the ice-cream with a steady rise and fall of his spoon.

  Before she knew it Audrey was absorbed in watching him eat, watching his lips scoop the dessert into his mouth, definitely watching his tongue-tip whenever it darted out to capture any escaping droplets.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him, couldn’t stop thinking about what it might feel like to have those lips on hers again, to open her mouth beneath them, to have that tongue plunge forward.

  A shivery but exquisite sensation rippled through her, bringing a small gasp of shock. And a slanted look from Elliot’s cool grey eyes, which caught and locked on to hers.

  His frown was instant and harsh, his expression troubled as his gaze searched for what lay behind her open-mouthed fascination. All too soon, he gave a slight head-shake, as well as a ragged sigh. Audrey snapped her head forwards and down, her insides curling with a shamed confusion at the knowingness in his eyes. What had he seen? What was he thinking?

  She flinched when he leant over and whispered, ‘No, Audrey. Definitely not.’

  She blinked up at him, her cheeks burning with the fluster of the innocent. ‘Definitely not what?’

  His expression was rueful. ‘Come now. You’re not that naïve any more. Not after Russell. You must know now that little girls who play grown-up games sometimes get hurt.’

  ‘I’m not a little girl,’ she rasped, still not sure what he was referring to. She’d only been thinking about a kiss, after all.

  Or had she?

  ‘Precisely,’ he agreed, an edge in his low voice. ‘You’re twenty-one years old and should know better than to start looking at frustrated males as if you want to eat them. Or is it the other way around?’

  Wild, erotic visions burst into her mind with these words, making her reel with shock. How could this be herself thinking the sort of things she was thinking, wanting the sort of things she was wanting? She was shy where sex was concerned. Shy and inhibited and unadventurous.

  At least, she had been. With Russell.

  ‘I’m not going to become involved with you, Audrey,’ Elliot muttered. ‘Tonight’s performance is a one-off thing. A favour. Now eat your dessert and stop making life difficult for the both of us.’

  A cold wave of bitter reality washed through her, dousing her heated blood, obliterating her erotic fantasies. What in heaven’s name was she doing, openly lusting after Elliot like that? Had she lost her senses? He’d made the facts perfectly clear the previous Friday. He found her too young, too inexperienced, too naïve, too vulnerable. Just because she looked passably better tonight made no difference. He’d still only come to her party out of pity. How many times did she have to be reminded?

  Audrey’s humiliation was intense. Once again, she had made an utter fool of herself over a man. When would she ever learn?

  The only safe harbour for her shame and her quickly withering self-respect was to do what she always did when situations became unbearable. She hibernated. Turned within herself, like a crab crawling into its shell. She would refuse to think. Or feel. And somehow, somehow, she would survive...

  Meanwhile, the dinner party dragged on. Audrey’s conversation died to no more than monosyllabic replies, any smiles decidedly forced. If Elliot noticed her sudden lack of sparkle, he didn’t say anything. But he seemed constrained too, as though he was regretting his decision to come.

  Audrey could understand that. She was aching for the evening to end as much, if not more than he did.

  Still, like the gentleman he was, Elliot remained doggedly by her side, even when they left the dining table and returned to the living-room where she dutifully cut the cake and opened her presents.

  She’d just finished thanking her father for a lovely sapphire ring, the Hurleys for their French perfume and the Listons for a beautiful beaded evening purse when Lavinia announced coyly that Audrey’s father had another special birthday surprise for his daughter.

  Audrey was startled out of her semi-robotic state, her stepmother’s expression enough to give her a prickling feeling of premonition. Lavinia looked like the cat who’d spotted the mouse and was zeroing in for the kill.

  ‘Oh?’ Audrey said warily. ‘What?’

  ‘You’ll never guess,’ Warwick Farnsworth said.

  ‘Never in a million years,’ Lavinia added in a silkily smug voice.

  ‘You’ll have to come outside to see it,’ her father continued. ‘Come on everyone. Come and see what I bought my Audrey for her coming of age.’

  Audrey froze. Oh, my God, surely he wouldn’t have. Surely not. Not a car! Not when he knew how she felt about driving. Surely he couldn’t be that insensitive.

  Elliot’s taking of her arm gave her a jolt. She looked up into strong grey eyes, eyes that seemed to be saying, Don’t worry. I’m here. But she was too stricken to take much comfort from them. For the first time that night, her mind was not on Elliot. It was rocketing back in time and hearing the squealing of brakes...the crunching of metal...her own screams.

  She was only dimly aware of Elliot giving her chilled flesh a reassuring squeeze and leading her in her father’s footsteps from the living-room to the main foyer, out through the front door and on to the patio.

  And there it was. At the foot of those unending steps.

  A car. A bright red Magna sedan.

  She simply stared at it.

  ‘Your father had it delivered while we were eating,’ Lavinia said smarmily. ‘I’ll bet you’re surprised, Audrey.’

  Audrey said nothing. She was battling to control her feelings of appalled horror. How could he do this if he loved her, even a little? How could he?

  ‘I know you always said you never wanted to drive, Audrey,’ her father blustered when he encountered her deathly silence. ‘But Lavinia and I discussed it and we decided it’s over nine years since the accident and high time for you to put it behind you. Not driving won’t bring your mother back, you know. One must conquer irrational fears, not give in to them, isn’t that right, Lavinia?’

  Lavinia smiled her agreement. ‘Quite right, darling.’

  Audrey felt panic closing in on her and without thinking she looked up at Elliot with plea-filled, stricken eyes.

  His hesitation was only brief before he slid an arm round her waist and pulled her close to his side. ‘Audrey’s speechless with delight, aren’t you, darling?’ he drawled. ‘And you’re quite right, Warwick. An independent modern-day girl should know how to drive, and I see the Magna is an automatic. A piece of cake, Audrey. I’ll teach you myself, if you like.’

  Her voice only just worked as she blinked up at him. ‘You would?’ Impossible to keep the pained confusion out of her voice.

  Elliot gave her a gently reassuring smile. ‘Who else? We’ll start tomorrow. Now, shouldn’t you be thanking your father for such a marvellous gift? And your stepmama. I’m sure she had a hand in this.’

  Was Audrey going mad or did she detect a heavy ironic tone in this last remark of Elliot’s? Was he implying that the car had all been Lavinia’s idea? That its choice had carried some malicious intent?

  She looked with searching eyes over at her stepmother. The woman’s mouth was smiling but the returning gaze was cold. Audrey’s initial astonishment slowly changed to a seething, defiant anger.

  I’ll show her, she resolved bitterly. Her and my father. I’ll learn to drive. I’ll be the best damned driver this side of the Harbour Bridge! And when I am, I’m going to drive right out of their rotten selfish lives!

  ‘It’s a lovely car,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Thank you very much, Father...Lavinia... It’s exactly what I wanted.’

  Her father’s huge smile of relief was so warm, so genuine, that Audrey was staggered. Maybe he does care, she realised, the knowledge stunning her. When he came forward to give her a b
ig bear-hug, she was deeply moved. He does, she thought. He really does!

  ‘I’m so glad, my dear,’ he said as he pulled back. ‘And somewhat relieved. To be truthful, I was rather worried about the car. But Lavinia was right, as usual. I have to congratulate you, darling.’ He turned to hold out a hand to his wife. Lavinia took it, her smile looking as though it was cast in cement. ‘Well, back inside, everyone,’ Warwick boomed. ‘It’s too cold to stand around out here. Let’s go and break out the port.’

  Audrey and Elliot were the last inside, Audrey turning to Elliot after she’d shut the front door behind them. ‘I seem to be always thanking you,’ she said calmly enough, her discovery about her stepmother having given her an odd kind of strength. And determination. ‘But thank you again.’

  ‘You might not thank me tomorrow,’ he said drily. ‘They say men should never teach their girlfriends how to drive.’

  Audrey was taken aback. ‘But I’m not—’

  Any further comment was terminated when he bent forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘Big ears are listening,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘You don’t want darling Lavinia to catch on, do you?’ Then more loudly, ‘Come on, Audrey. I haven’t given you my present yet. Did you think you were only getting those flowers?’

  Audrey was still reeling from Elliot’s kiss when this other blow was delivered. She was simply beyond protest when he took her elbow and ushered her back into the living room with the others, drawing a slender velvet box from his jacket pocket as they went. He flipped it open and pressed it into her astonished hands.

  She stared down at the exquisite gold necklace, her heart turning over. This was no cheap gift. This was worth hundreds of dollars. Audrey glanced up at Elliot in utter bewilderment.

  ‘That’s why I asked you not to wear any jewellery except gold earrings,’ he explained lazily. ‘So that I could do this...’ And he took the heavy linked necklace from its velvet bed, turning her round to place it around her neck.

  Goose-bumps flared all over her skin when she felt his fingertips feather against her bare flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to control her imagination, not to let it start wondering what it would be like to have those fingers all over her body.

  She failed abysmally.

  Her eyes finally fluttered back open, her cheeks pink, her heart thudding. Irritation at her continued stupidity fuelled a host of hot, angry thoughts. She would have to stop this futile fantasising over Elliot! Didn’t she know there wasn’t anything she could say or do to really interest a man like him? What was it he had said he’d been? A corporate lawyer? Well, handsome corporate lawyers didn’t go for girls like her, even when they looked as presentable as they could and had just inherited a million or two. They bedded exciting, sensual, breathtakingly experienced women. Women like...

  Against her will, her eyes were drawn to Lavinia.

  Somehow Audrey already knew her stepmother wouldn’t be looking at the gold necklace as everyone else was. Her coal-black gaze was fastened on Elliot and there was envy written all over her face. Not of the necklace, Audrey realised with a sick pang in her stomach, but of the giver.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AUDREY’S head automatically snapped up and around to see if Elliot was aware of Lavinia’s lustful gaze. His eyes jerked away from something—or someone—to meet her searching glance with the remnants of a frown. For a second he stared at her, unseeing, before his face cleared. ‘Don’t you like my present?’ he asked, nodding down at the gold necklace.

  Any answer was thwarted by her father slapping Elliot on the shoulder. ‘Of course she likes it! But beware, my man. Start giving a woman jewellery and she’ll have you at the altar before you know it.’

  ‘Oh, Father,’ Audrey reproached, blushing with embarrassment.

  ‘Yes, don’t be ridiculous, Warwick,’ Lavinia joined in waspishly. ‘They’ve only just met. Besides, I can’t see a man like Elliot giving up his bachelor status too easily.’

  ‘Really, Lavinia?’ Elliot’s voice sounded reassuringly cool as he turned towards her. ‘Then you’ll be surprised to know I’ve already been married once. Didn’t Audrey tell you? I’m a widower.’

  The silence was quite electric for a moment before Elliot went on to quietly tell the surprised gathering the story behind his wife’s tragic death. This brought a flurry of sympathetic murmurs, as well as some more questions, which revealed that the late Mrs Knight had been the famous children’s author, M. C. Thwaites, a piece of news that floored Audrey. She had seen M. C. Thwaites interviewed on television a couple of years back when one of her books had been awarded some special prize. Not only had the lady been very ordinary-looking, she had to have been at least ten years older than Elliot.

  ‘But wasn’t she around forty when she died?’ Alice remarked, echoing Audrey’s astonishment.

  ‘Yes,’ Elliot agreed. ‘Moira was a few years older than me.’

  ‘More than a few, surely,’ Edward put in, as tactless as ever. ‘You can’t be much more than thirty.’

  ‘Thirty-three, actually.’

  Audrey tried not to show her shock. But her mind was reeling. She’d envisaged Moira as a stunning, exquisitely feminine creature whom Elliot had loved to distraction. A woman like Lavinia. Audrey just couldn’t picture him madly in love with the undoubtedly clever but rather homely author.

  Ugly suspicions leapt into Audrey’s mind, only to be shakily dismissed. Her Elliot wouldn’t do such a thing as marry a rich older sick woman simply for her money. He wouldn’t! Besides, he’d said he loved his wife. Hadn’t he? Or had he just denied marrying the lady for her money? She couldn’t remember...

  Some rhythmic music was put on and Audrey dimly heard Lavinia’s voice urging everyone to dance. ‘Stop frowning, birthday girl,’ Elliot murmured into her ear, ‘and dance with me. It’s expected of us.’

  ‘What?’ She glanced up into Elliot’s openly handsome face and felt instantly guilty at doubting this man who’d been so kind to her; was still being kind. ‘All right,’ she smiled gratefully, ‘but I’m not a very good dancer.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m no Fred Astaire myself.’ But he drew her quite confidently into his arms, steering her smoothly across the carpet and out into the foyer where the slate floor made an excellent dance-floor.

  Audrey did her utmost to dance as well as her limited experience could manage, but the feel of Elliot’s lean hard body pressed against her did little for her composure, and when she finally tripped over his toes her dismay was acute. ‘S...sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I’m a clumsy clot.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he returned, and drew her back into his arms, pressing her even closer. But he stopped moving her around the floor quite so much, reducing their movements to a gentle swaying and the odd twirl. Soon Audrey was so enveloped in the sensual warmth of his embrace that she totally relaxed, closing her eyes and nestling her head under Elliot’s chin, enjoying the moment for what it was. She was under no illusions that this was where Elliot would normally choose to be—in her arms—but she refused to think like that tonight. Tonight he was hers. If he could pretend so well then so could she.

  Suddenly, the music was snapped off.

  Audrey’s eyes fluttered open to look over her shoulder and see Lavinia at the CD player, glaring coldly over at her before swinging a gay smile round to the others. ‘Warwick’s just opened the port, everyone. And there’s coffee here for those who would prefer it.’

  Audrey heard Elliot mutter a word under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘bitch’. But she couldn’t be sure. When he drew back from their embrace, his expression was implacably cool. ‘Coffee, my lady?’ he suggested with a gallant little bow and an outstretched hand.

  Audrey laughed, and took his hand. But any real pleasure in the rest of the evening and Elliot’s company was spoiled by her stepmother’s continuing looks. Sour to her; seductive to Elliot. Audrey was on tenterhooks, wondering what Lavinia would say or do next. Once, the woma
n sat down next to him and actually put her hand oh, so casually on his thigh. Elliot didn’t bat an eyelash. Audrey wanted to tear her stepmother’s eyes out.

  In a way, she was glad when the party broke up shortly after midnight and the guests started to go home, despite her not wanting Elliot to leave.

  He lingered behind, however, and Audrey’s father jumped to the conclusion that he wanted some time alone with Audrey, announcing with a nod and a wink that Lavinia and he would retire upstairs and ‘leave the young ones to it’. Lavinia looked livid at this remark, retorting with sweet sarcasm that she was hardly old at thirty-seven. Warwick totally ignored her, took her elbow and ushered her firmly from the room.

  Audrey expelled a quavering breath once they were gone. ‘I’m so sorry, Elliot,’ she murmured.

  They were sitting on the same sofa, sipping the remains of a last cup of coffee, a fair distance between them. Elliot gave her an unreadable glance.

  ‘Sorry for what?’

  ‘For putting you through this charade. For your having to answer all those questions. And for Lavinia.’

  ‘Ah, yes...Lavinia... She was rather obvious, wasn’t she?’

  Her stomach contracted. ‘Yes,’ she admitted unhappily.

  ‘Let’s hope your father didn’t notice.’

  Audrey looked at him as he swallowed the last of his coffee and put down the cup. There was no doubt he was a striking man, in every way. His looks, his style, his air of contained self-confidence. He wasn’t even unduly bothered by being treated like a sex object. ‘Does...does this sort of thing happen to you often?’ she asked hesitantly.

  Elliot shrugged. ‘Let’s just say it happens more than I’d like.’

  ‘Doesn’t it get boring?’ she said sharply, her jealousy emerging again.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed with a distaste she found quite reassuring, till she remembered she herself had been guilty of similar behaviour at the dinner table. A shameful blush crept into her cheeks. She hated to think that Elliot was lumping her in the same category as Lavinia. It wasn’t just lust she felt. She loved the man. She’d been sure the moment she opened the door tonight. So sure she had almost cried.