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Seductive Stranger

Page 8

by Charlotte Lamb


  'Yes,' Prue said, laughing at him because he was playing the fool.

  David often did that; he was light- hearted, you shouldn't take him too seriously because he didn't take himself seriously. She had never heard him admit to having any ambitions at all; he wanted to enjoy life, not work at it, and most ambitions necessitated quite a bit of work if you were ever to get anywhere.

  'Are the Killanes a big family?' he asked, and she shook her head.

  'Lynsey has a brother, Josh—he was the driver we nearly collided with!'

  'Yes, so his sister said. I can't actually remember him, the accident is a bit of a blur to me. Does he bear me any grudge? She said he wasn't hurt, but I guess he must have been shaken up.'

  'He was a little scathing,' she said shortly.

  David eyed her, raising an eyebrow. 'You don't like, him?'

  She shrugged, watching David take a sip of water from his glass.

  'What sort of fella is he?' he asked, putting the glass back on his bedside table.

  'Formidable,' she said drily. 'A tough character, but then he is a Killane, and they're all very sure of themselves.'

  'I suppose you knew him when you lived here as a child?'

  'I barely remember him, I was too young to have much to do with the Killanes in those days. He seems to have a finger in most pies around here. Even in the hospital, I've noticed, everyone treats him like God, or at least one of God's executives!'

  David laughed, then winced as though laughing made his ribs hurt, and Prue gave him a worried look. Maybe she should leave soon? He was probably getting tired. Prue glanced at the clock. The time had flown.

  'You know, I can see your hackles from here!' said David, watching her. 'Did he try to push you around, this divine executive?' He was amused, but Prue didn't smile back this time. She wished he would stop talking about Josh.

  'He tried!' she said through her teeth.

  She couldn't tell David how she felt about Josh Killane, and that gave her a jab of mingled rage and pain because she was deceiving David, something she had never done before! In the past, she would have told David at once if another man made a pass at her, but for some reason she just couldn't bring herself to tell him about Josh. Was she afraid of what David might do ... or afraid of what she herself might betray? David knew her so well!

  'But failed?' David grinned teasingly at her. When they were just kids, he had got a lot of fun out of watching her fight anyone who tried to bully her; and not much had changed over the years. Prue was still the one who flared up and fought back; David was the lazy, casual, easy-going one, who took life as it came and seemed to laugh at things that made her furious.

  She shrugged. 'Let's just say I don't much care for Mr Josh Killane!'

  The bell signalling the end of visiting hour began to ring as she was speaking, and Prue jumped up and made a hurried farewell, relieved that the conversation had been interrupted there.

  'I'll see you tomorrow—I'm sorry I can't come back again today, but I don't really like to ask drive my father to drive me here twice a day, and the hire car is still being repaired.'

  David grimaced. 'Good grief, I hadn't thought of garage bills! Tell me the worst—how much is it going to cost?'

  'Don't worry. The insurance will pay, that's all dealt with,' she said, kissing him goodbye.

  That was something else she didn't want to tell him about! Josh had dealt with their car while Prue was in hospital, and when she'd questioned him, Josh had told her not to bother about it, he had seen to all the financial arrangements. Prue had some idea that the hire car company insurance covered the accident, but tomorrow she would insist on finding out the exact position. For the moment, she did not want David getting agitated over it. He might well ask why Josh had taken charge like that. Of course, it was utterly typical of Josh to be thoughtful and efficient, even in the tiniest details; and she ought to be grateful to him for saving her all that trouble, but she found herself resenting that, too, because it was so typical. He took too much on himself!

  What had David said . . . feudal? Yes, the word fitted Josh perfectly; he was a feudal overlord from his black Norman head to his black boots.

  'Anything I can get you?' she asked David almost pleadingly, out of her feelings of guilt and contrition.

  'Sports magazines, anything light to read—a good thriller, maybe!' he said. 'No more fruit, darling! No food of any kind!' She had brought him fruit, chocolate, even some speckled brown free-range eggs from the farm, laid by one of her father's pretty little Bantam hens that morning!

  'I'll never be able to eat my way through this lot as it is!' David said, eyeing the collection assembled on top of his locker.

  She found her father in his car in the hospital car park. 'How was he?

  When am I going to meet him?' he asked as they drove off.

  'He's much better, and why not come and meet him tomorrow?' she said, smiling. 'You'll like him.'

  He did, of course, immediately. David was easy to like, he made friends without even trying, with that lazy, friendly grin of his; and, in his turn, David was determined to like her father, so of course, he did.

  There was goodwill on both sides and each of them was delighted to find it so easy to like the other.

  'When they let you leave hospital, you must come and stay for a while,' her father told him. 'I'll do my best to see you don't get bored. I suppose a sheep farm isn't the most exciting place in the world, but. .

  .'

  'I've often thought I'd like to farm,' David said, as he had said to Prue, and she gave him a laughing glance, still amused by the idea.

  It was the right thing to say to her father, though. He was quite delighted and happily told David all about the farm.

  Prue hadn't seen Josh for several days now; she was rather relieved and hoped he would stay away altogether until she and David had left Yorkshire. But, of course, Josh had to work closely with her father, as with all the other tenants on certain jobs—mending the ancient walls dividing one field from another, for instance, or when they needed to borrow the expensive pieces of machinery Josh could afford but they couldn't.

  Only that morning James Allardyce had murmured something about expecting Josh round any day now to discuss a rabbit shoot.

  'Oh, poor rabbits!' Prue had unwisely exclaimed, and her father had become quite excited on the subject of rabbits and their antisocial behaviour. They ate the bark off young saplings, he said, they ate his vegetables and in the spring they made havoc among newly springing wheat and barley; he reeled off a long list of reasons for the farmer's dislike of rabbits, but Prue still insisted that she loved them.

  'They're sweet!'

  'They're pests!' her father growled, making her laugh.

  'Well, I hope you don't catch any of them,' Prue said, green eyes defiant.

  She liked to get up very early in the morning and lean on her bedroom window-sill in the pale dawn light to watch the field beyond her father's garden. At that time of day it was alive with rabbits, although if Prue made the slightest sound their quick ears would hear her and they would all vanish.

  How like Josh Killane to arrange to have them hunted down ruthlessly, and shot! No doubt he viewed them as pests and vermin, too. His family farm had much better land than that attached to her father's hillfarm. Josh grew crops as well as running sheep and some cattle on his valley land. He had more to lose, and far more reason to dislike rabbits!

  In fact, Josh didn't show up at the farm for another two days, and when he came it wasn't to arrange the rabbit shoot and James Allardyce wasn't at home, anyway, he was out on the farm somewhere that afternoon, with the local vet, checking on some sheep giving her father anxiety.

  Prue was in the farm kitchen, cooking the evening meal, a rich lamb stew, using their own meat, and thick with homegrown winter vegetables and herbs. She didn't have any warning of Josh's arrival, but then he didn't knock or ring; he just walked in through the back door, taking her by surprise.

 
Face flushed, hair disorderly, she swung round, her mouth rounding.

  'Oh! You!'

  His dark eyes wandered over her apron-clad figure; she hadn't dressed for visitors, she wore no make-up at all and under the white apron she was only wearing a rather old and far too tight black sweater and jeans. She stiffened under his inspection, her hand tightening around the handle of the chopping knife she held. Josh glanced at the hand holding the knife, then raised one eyebrow.

  'Are you planning to use that?' He managed to invest the question with mockery.

  'I was chopping parsley,' she coldly informed him. 'My father is out with the vet looking at the flock. I don't know when he'll be back. I'll tell him you called.' She turned her back on him and began working again.

  He didn't leave; he lounged there, very tall, very much at his ease, dressed as casually as herself and yet managing to make his old green tweeds look almost glamorous. They had faded to a gentle shabbiness which matched his surroundings but certainly didn't betray the real wealth she knew his family possessed. That tweed suit had probably cost the earth when it was new, but he had most likely worn it for years, and would go on doing so until it simply wore out. It had style, though; she could see it had been cut by a master tailor and the material was the best Scottish tweed.

  'How's the fiancé?' he drawled.

  She chopped parsley viciously. 'Fine, thank you.' She didn't want him talking about David; she didn't like the tone of voice he always used.

  'A little bird told me he would be able to leave hospital a lot earlier than they thought at first; he's making such good progress.'

  'We hope so.' She should have stopped chopping; she had a small mountain of parsley now. What on earth was she going to do with it all? She had only meant to chop enough to garnish the stew. Josh had addled her brains. What little bird did he mean? Had he rung the hospital to ask after David, or had her father told him? But of course he had plenty of contacts at the hospital. The Killane family had been around here since medieval times; everyone knew them and they knew everyone.

  'Are you leaving then, or staying on here for a while?' Josh asked, and she put down the knife and contemplated the result of her work with impatience.

  'We haven't decided yet.'

  'You haven't been over to see my mother. She was hoping you would, she asked me to tell you.'

  'I'm sorry, I've been very busy,' she said, sweeping the green mass of parsley into a plastic bag, which she put into the fridge to chill, slamming the fridge door shut with a little bang.

  'You mean you don't want to see her!' Josh said in a brusque voice. 'I can hardly tell her that, can I?'

  'And I'm very busy at the moment, too/ Prue said offhandedly. 'I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me.'

  'No!'

  She nearly jumped out of her skin at the way he roared that.

  'I won't excuse you!' he snapped, and she backed away, staring at him nervously. 'I won't let you hurt my mother's feelings!' His face was wintry. 'If you don't visit her again while you're here, she will be hurt.

  She'll probably ask your father if she has done something to offend you.

  'I don't want to talk about it,' Prue said, her face pale. She hadn't yet dared to talk frankly to her father, and she wasn't in a hurry to do it, either.

  'I don't give a damn what you want!' Josh snarled, taking a step closer, and she backed, her whole body tense.

  'I'm sure you don't!' she muttered, her green eyes fierce and defiant.

  'And that's typical of your whole family—all you care about is what you want, and it doesn't bother you how many people you have to smash into the ground to get your own way! You're dinosaurs; feudal landlords out of another century, still trying to make the world work for you!'

  He grabbed her shoulders, staring into her eyes. 'Feudal landlords!

  What the hell are you talking about? That's sheer nonsense, and you know it.'

  'Get your hands off me! Don't think you can bully me!' She exerted all her strength to break his grip, but Josh tightened his fingers, shaking her furiously.

  'You're thinking emotionally, Prue. Why don't you try using your head for a change? If there was any love-affair between my mother and Jim, why haven't they got married? Why be so secretive about it?

  There's nothing stopping them. They're both free, they're both adults and there's no reason on earth why they shouldn't get married.'

  'Maybe my father is afraid he might lose his farm,' Prue said coldly.

  'After all, your mother isn't the owner of the Killane estate—you are, aren't you? If you disapproved, you could take the tenancy away without needing to give a reason.'

  He laughed shortly. 'I wouldn't do a thing like that?'

  'That's what you say now, but my father may still be afraid to take the risk.'

  'He can't care much about my mother if all that he thinks about is his farm!'

  'He's lived there all his life! And perhaps she is afraid, too. She may prefer the status quo, to go on as they have been for years, meeting in secret, rather than having a big family upset.'

  'You don't know for certain that any of this is true! You only have your mother's word for it, and she was hardly a reliable witness.'

  Prue paled, staring at him with bitter dislike. 'Until I came here, I only had my mother's word, but I've seen it for myself, and I'm convinced she was right.'

  'What have you seen?' Josh asked.

  'Love,' she said huskily.

  Josh's fingers dug into her. 'What?' he ground out between his teeth.

  'Do you know what the word means?' she asked, and he glowered at her; eyes like black, hot coal, a red light glowing deep within them.

  'I know what it means—but do you? Would you recognise it if you saw it, or are you just imagining all this?'

  'Why do you keep asking me these questions? Ask your mother. It's her we're talking about.'

  'Is it?' His mouth twisted, hard and pale. 'Sure we aren't talking about you?'

  Prue was not going to take that. 'Don't try to change this into another attack on me! I'm not standing trial here. You asked me why I didn't like your mother, and I was honest with you.'

  'I don't think you're even honest with yourself!'

  'Well, snap!' she hurled at him, and Josh glared at her for a second, then, jerked her violently towards him, his mouth coming down in suffocating possession. Prue felt her heartbeat quicken to a sickening speed; she was shaking with a helpless reaction which was neither pain nor pleasure but an inextricable entwining of the two, and she hated that feeling, hated him, too. She had to get away, had to stop him, or she would go crazy, and she fought him, her body straining to escape, but it wasn't her struggle that freed her. It was a sound; a voice, an exclamation.

  'Hello? Anyone in? I was . . . Oh!'

  Josh lifted his head, face darkly flushed, breathing thickly, a dazed expression in his eyes as he looked round.

  Prue broke away as his hands loosened their grip. She swung round to face the back door, which had opened.

  Lynsey Killane stood there, staring, mouth open eyes very big and wide. She looked shocked, horrified.

  Prue wished the ground open up and swallow her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  'SORRY, I knocked, but nobody answered,' Lynsey said in a high-pitched voice.

  'I won't be a minute!' said Josh, frowning.

  'That was what you said when you came in here—and you've been gone nearly a quarter of an hour! It's cold and I'm getting frozen, and I'm bored stiff, so hurry up!' Lynsey gave them both a twisted little smile. 'Whatever you're doing can wait, can't it?' she murmured in a tone that sent a new wave of hot blood to Prue's face, then she vanished like a rabbit going back down a burrow.

  The door banged behind her, and Josh stared across the room at where his sister had been standing. He said something angry under his breath; Prue was glad she didn't quite catch the words.

  'Her face . . .' she groaned.

  'Take no notice of Lynsey!' Josh sai
d roughly. 'Don't you remember your own teens? There's nobody as censorious as an adolescent!'

  Prue wasn't comforted by that thought. 'It was so embarrassing!' she muttered.

  'Oh? for heaven's sake!' erupted Josh, black- browed. 'Don't make such a song and dance about it! The way you're carrying on, anyone would think Lynsey had caught us in bed together!'

  Prue went crimson, and he eyed her ironically. 'What if she thinks ..,?

  I mean, she might.. and if she tells anyone . . .' Prue stammered.

  if you were a little more coherent I might know what the hell you're gibbering about!' he drawled.

  She repeated sharply, 'What if Lynsey tells someone what she saw?'

  'She won't!'

  'How can you be so sure?'

  'I know my sister, and, anyway, I'll have a word with her and make quite certain that she doesn't talk about it.'

  'I suppose you mean you'll bully her into doing what she's told!' Prue said with a sudden sympathy for the younger girl, and he gave her a narrow-eyed glare.

  i don't bully my little sister, any more than I bully you. Stop inventing fantasies for yourself.'

  'Hadn't you better go?' she pointedly asked, turning away. 'Lynsey is still waiting, and heaven only knows what she thinks is happening in here! When you talk to her, you might make it clear that there's nothing going on between you and me!'

  'After what she just saw?' he enquired softly, and she kept her back to him to hide the high colour in her face.

  'Tell her you made a casual pass at me, but it didn't mean anything!'

  'When I make a pass at a woman, it always means something,' he said, it means I fancy her.'

  Prue bit her lip. So he fancied her, did he? She ought to be furious, resent the attitude that let him think he only had to reach out to get what he fancied, but although she was angry she couldn't help a secret little jab of pleasure. It was flattering, after all, to know Josh's pass had meant more than a passing impulse.

  'Well. . . please, tell your sister to forget what she saw!' she pleaded.

  'I might,' he drawled. 'And then again, I might not.'

 

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