An Innocent Affair

by Kim Lawrence

  That makes two of us, she thought, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin. ‘I’m sorry I hit you.’ The words emerged with the utmost reluctance. ‘But you deserved it!’ She couldn’t prevent the heartfelt postscript. She was proud of the fact she’d tamed her temper, and she didn’t like being reminded that at times she could still lose control. ‘I haven’t hit anyone in…’

  ‘Hours?’

  This ironic suggestion made her teeth gouge painful inroads into her full lower lip. ‘Years,’ she responded with icy dignity. She could still recall the occasion when the stupidity of losing her cool had been brought home to her pretty sharply.

  When she and her sisters had come across those yobs threatening to drop the puppy off the bridge into the river, their taunts had made her see red. While she’d been giving the ringleader a bloody nose Anna had been jumping off the bridge into a raging torrent after the puppy and Lindy had been racing downstream to rescue them both. She supposed the incident, which could so easily have ended in tragedy, said quite a lot about their different personalities.

  ‘At least you’re ashamed of your latest escapade.’

  ‘Hitting you?’ ‘Ashamed’ was pitching a bit strong.

  ‘Breaking up a marriage.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ she said airily. She flicked him a sideways glance—yes, he looked as if he had a particularly unpleasant taste in his mouth. Thinking about his stern mouth made her stomach lurch. It was hard to forget she’d wondered what his lips would feel like, how he’d taste… She willed the flood of warmth that began low in her belly not to spread its heat to her trembling limbs. The last thing she needed right now was her brain to be befuddled by that sort of thing!

  Well, I’d as soon be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and if he wants a scarlet woman, who am I to disappoint him? One thing she wasn’t going to be was a penitent sinner who could be redeemed by the marvellous Mr Matheson.

  ‘Lloyd’s not a child; he’s quite capable of making his own decisions. I think,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘you’ll find he’s very grateful to me.’ And he’s got reason to be, she silently added.

  ‘Did his wife send you a thank-you card?’ He regarded her with fastidious distaste.

  ‘Not exactly.’ Hope winced at the memory of her last encounter with Lloyd’s famous wife. Dallas had brought along several busloads of the press to record her public humiliation. Apparently the publicity had done the sales of her latest album no harm at all, but Hope didn’t imagine she’d receive the credit for that. She chuckled softly at the idea.

  ‘Have you no shame at all?’ His face was dark with disgust. ‘You find it all a joke?’ he asked with incredulous disgust. ‘Are you really that self-centred and selfish?’

  ‘Which question shall I answer first?’ she puzzled, finger on the small cleft in her chin. ‘Or were they all rhetorical?’ How was I ever attracted to this man? she wondered. He’s narrow-minded and petty! The mocking smile slid from her face, leaving an expression of scornful contempt. ‘My conscience is quite clear, thank you, Alex,’ she said crisply.

  The way his knuckles turned white strangely fascinated her. To look at his face you’d never guess he wants to strangle me, she thought. She was quite familiar with the urge to lash out, but she was confident that he was far too controlled to give in to the impulse to strangle her, or even the one to kiss her. This sudden startling insight made her eyes widen suddenly. The fact that he’d decided she wasn’t worthy of his notice didn’t stop him from lusting after her. And Alex Matheson was a man who prided himself on being in control of his emotions.

  ‘Do you like playing games with people?’ His icy glare impaled her.

  ‘A girl’s got to amuse herself.’ The nerve in his taut jaw did a triple backflip at that one.

  ‘Is that what you were doing with me?’ The flicker in his hooded eyes made Hope feel uneasy, but she wasn’t going to back pedal now.

  She tilted her head, as if giving the idea serious consideration. It would be a small revenge for the insults Alex Matheson had heaped upon her.

  ‘Well I’ve got to do something for the next month, and I do find older men, with that air of authority, so attractive. I’m quite willing to sacrifice youthful stamina for…’ she gave a delicate laugh ‘…competence. I like experienced men,’ she confided, with her best come-hither smile. ‘But this isn’t Hollywood, is it?’ she murmured regretfully. ‘If you’d been married it wouldn’t really have been worth the hassle.’

  To think he’d thought her untainted by the life she’d led. To think he’d been enchanted by her open warmth and transparent sincerity! The throbbing in his temples reached new heights. In a different frame of mind Alex would undoubtedly have paused to reflect on the contradictory nature of Hope’s responses. But Alex didn’t pause; he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. He glimpsed shock and dismay in her wide blue eyes before he kissed her.

  The pressure of his mouth bent her body back until her head touched the springy moss-covered ground. His hands moved from her shoulders to frame her face, effectively immobilising it. Not that Hope had any thoughts of fighting; she had no thoughts at all. The only information that filtered into her brain concerned simple things, like smell, texture and taste. The smell of the leather gauntlet on his right hand, the wool of his sweater and the citrusy spice of the masculine fragrance he used. The texture of his firm mouth, the sensation as his tongue thrust into the recesses of her mouth and the taste of him… Now she knew. Now she’d never be able to forget it.

  It stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. The weak sunlight that his head had blotted out filtered through the transparent thinness of her closed eyelids. She listened to the echo of her own heartbeat.

  ‘Say something,’ he said thickly. ‘At least look at me.’ If he hadn’t been able to see her chest rising and falling he wouldn’t have known she was alive. Her hair was spread around her face, a rich golden frame. The permanent indentation between his eyes deepened as he stared down at her.

  A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. ‘How can I refuse an offer like that? Or was it an order? Don’t look so surprised, Alex. What did you expect? Hysteria? I’ve been kissed before…’ Not like that, never like that. Her nervous system had shut down, unable to accept the messages being fed it. ‘Admittedly with more finesse…’ To her surprise he perceptibly flinched. He flexed his massive shoulders and his glance slid momentarily from her face.

  She was no weakling, but Alex hadn’t needed to use more than a fraction of the strength in that awesome upper body to immobilise her. And all the time she’d been aware of the staggering strength he held in check. She hadn’t just been aware of it—she’d been deeply excited by it. Alien emotions churned in her belly.

  ‘We’re quits,’ he observed flatly.

  ‘Given the choice, I’d have taken a slapped face.’ A dull red spread over the hard contours of his cheekbones and she felt a surge of satisfaction. ‘Though I’m sure you’re not the sort of man who’d strike a female.’ Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

  ‘I’m sorry I lacked finesse,’ he bit back.

  Sprawling here, she felt rather vulnerable, but she didn’t want to risk moving until she had full control over her limbs again. ‘It was a bit naive of me to expect subtlety from someone like you. I don’t expect imagination is your strong point—’ With a yelp of alarm she closed her eyes. He moved with amazing fluidity for someone of his build.

  When she risked opening one eye he was kneeling beside her. The muscles of her abdomen clenched in anticipation of sitting upright. They relaxed instantaneously as he ran the tip of one callused forefinger experimentally down the side of her cheek. Each microscopic downy hair on her smooth skin danced in response. A sound escaped her lips as the air fled from her lungs in one gasp.

  ‘I never did know when to stop,’ she croaked. ‘I’m sure you’re as subtle as hell.’

  ‘For an elderly male with limited reserves of stamina?’ he suggested silkily.

  ‘Can
’t you take a joke?’ He was removing the thick padded gauntlet from his hand. A girl who got turned on by looking at a man’s hands was in serious trouble, she reflected wildly.

  ‘Creativity takes many shapes and forms.’ He lowered himself on one elbow and brushed the tangled curls from her brow. ‘I may be colour-blind…’

  ‘How fascinating,’ she replied in a high-pitched voice. ‘Colour-blind.’ He’d tugged the zip of her waterproof jacket far enough down to give his mouth access to the base of her throat. ‘This is silly.’

  Her words emerged as a breathy gasp rather than a sharp reprimand. She dug her fingers into his rich pelt of hair in order to jerk his head away, but the warm lash of his tongue against the pulse-spot made her fingers curl against his scalp in a manner more intended to hold him against her than repel him.

  The open-mouthed assaults on her neck tore a series of soft, guttural moans from Hope’s throat. Alex lowered his body as he moved higher, until by the time he was at eye level with her they lay thigh to thigh, chest to chest on the sloping ground.

  ‘It must be difficult for someone used to delicate refinement to be exposed to such crude clumsiness.’ The rasp of his voice was close to her ear. His lips grazed the same orifice and sent electrical tremors down to the tip of her curling toes.

  Her blue eyes were swimming as she met his hard gaze; her stare was hazy and unfocused. This was torture; each soft, arousing salute was agony. How could so little make her crave so much? He hadn’t even touched her body, but she was pierced by a desire so intense she could hardly breathe.

  Handicapped by inarticulate frustration and raw need, her first move in response wasn’t loaded with finesse. She raised her head a little, dug her fingers hard into his scalp and pressed her lips, chastely closed, to his mouth.

  She was breathing fast and hard when she lifted her mouth from his. Grey eyes clashed with blue.

  ‘I want…’ Emotion clogged her throat.

  ‘A bit of rough?’ The suggestion was as hard as the calculating expression in his eyes.

  For a second she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Being plunged into ice was remarkably sobering. She bit down on her lower lip to stop the hurt cry escaping the confines of her throat. She drew her knees protectively up to her chest and rolled over onto her side. Though her knees were shaking, she managed to get to her feet gracefully.

  If she’d looked back he’d have been able to see the tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, so she didn’t look back.

  ‘She’s invited who?’

  Beth Lacey didn’t appear to notice her daughter’s horrified expression.

  ‘Alex Matheson, dear, to make up the numbers. Mind you, he and Adam get on quite well, I believe. They play tennis together, you know.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ Hope replied faintly.

  ‘I did mention to Anna that you and he got on really well at the wedding. Shall I do a lemon tart, or be really naughty and risk the chocolate meringue?’ She waited expectantly and gave an impatient sigh when her daughter regarded her blankly. ‘I told you, we’re bringing the pudding. Anna’s got enough on her hands without entertaining, but you know Anna, once she’s made up her mind. At least she’s limiting it to family—and Alex, of course.’

  And Alex!

  Hope nodded. She knew Anna. She knew Anna well enough to know she couldn’t ask her to retract the invitation to Alex without having the whole humiliating tale exposed. Hope wasn’t ready for that; she was still feeling far too raw about the whole painful incident. There was only one thing for it.

  ‘Sorry, Mum, I’ve got to go out,’ she said, levering her tall frame from the saggy armchair.

  ‘Where to?’

  Hand on the doorhandle, Hope smiled vaguely. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll borrow your car.’

  It took her less time than it ought to reach Matheson Motors on the edge of the small market town. She parked her mother’s old banger amongst less rusty cars and walked confidently up to the entrance. No one watching her long-legged elegant stride could have guessed how close to open panic she was. Only her sisters knew that she only whistled when she was petrified, and they weren’t here.

  The girl in Reception looked up and visibly did a double take. ‘Miss Lacey,’ she gasped, her eyes widening. ‘Can I help you?’ she added hopefully, regaining some of her professional poise.

  ‘I’d like to see Alex.’ A famous face did have some compensations, especially when you wanted to bluff your way into somewhere you had no right to be.

  ‘Mr Matheson…’ Doubt crossed the other girl’s face. ‘Do you have an appointment?’

  ‘It’s a surprise.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think… He’s quite strict about…’

  ‘Actually,’ Hope said, leaning forward in a confidential manner, ‘I’m meant to be having dinner with him tonight, but I’m going to have to cry off. So I thought I’d take him for an early lunch to compensate.’

  ‘For his birthday? I see. Oh, well, in that case…’

  Alex’s PA turned out to be male, quite a young, attractive male, who wasn’t totally immune to her charms. She’d have liked to think it was her famous smile and winning manner that had allowed her to enter the inner sanctum which he so jealously guarded, but it was obvious she’d only got this far because Alex had given his permission.

  Panic closed in as the door shut behind her. Pride made it imperative that she didn’t show her uncertainty.

  She needn’t have worried; for all the interest Alex showed in her she might as well have been standing there stark naked. She couldn’t have felt more vulnerable if she had been!

  He continued to peel off a set of navy overalls, underneath which he wore a pristine white shirt and silk tie. He lifted the dark grey jacket missing from his ensemble from the back of his chair and slipped it on. The shadow of body hair was visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, as was the suggestion of musculature. Hope’s throat grew painfully dry as she tried not to notice these facts.

  ‘You’ve got a hands-on management style, I see,’ she said, her eyes flicking to the discarded utilitarian overalls.

  ‘I’m a hands-on sort of guy.’

  The innuendo made the colour flare in her cheeks. ‘I expect you know why I’m here.’

  ‘I’m not nearly so perceptive as you appear to think.’

  ‘The dinner party.’ She didn’t want to play games with him. She wasn’t capable of playing games with him. Just being in the same room as him was making her aware of how deeply he’d managed to unnerve her.

  ‘Ah, the dinner party.’ He lowered himself into the deeply padded leather swivel chair behind the massive desk which dominated the room. No, she mentally corrected herself, it was Alex who dominated the room—this room and any other room he was in.

  ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘Pardon? I’m forgetting my manners—won’t you have a seat?’

  ‘You can’t forget what you’ve never had,’ she snapped back. ‘And I’m not staying long enough to sit down. Don’t think I enjoy being in your company.’

  ‘If that is so, why are you here?’ he enquired imperturbably. He watched her with a narrow-eyed silver stare that made her shiver.

  ‘I just wanted to ask you to be reasonable. I’m sure you don’t want to spend an evening in my company any more than I want to spend an evening in yours.’

  ‘If you didn’t want to see me, why come here?’

  ‘I’ve already told you—’

  ‘Ever heard of the telephone?’ he interrupted cryptically.

  Hope’s mouth opened and closed several times before her voice returned. ‘I didn’t think of that.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t…’ he drawled.

  The hateful knowing look in his eyes made her want to scream. ‘If you think I used this as a pretext to see you,’ she returned scornfully, ‘you couldn’t be more wrong!’

  ‘Now there’s an interesting idea,’ he mused, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.


  She couldn’t look at his hands without imagining… Hope took a deep, steadying breath. I will not lose my temper, she repeated slowly to herself. I won’t! ‘Are you going to come?’ She sounded calm and reasonable.

  ‘I could hardly refuse after they’ve asked me to be godfather to little Joe.’

  ‘They haven’t.’ She closed her eyes and pushed back the wing of hair that flopped in her eyes. ‘They’ve asked me to be his godmother.’

  ‘Isn’t that nice?’ His teeth were as white and even as your average wolf’s.

  ‘You’re enjoying this!’ she accused.

  For the first time he looked less than indolent as his body stiffened in the chair. ‘Far from it,’ he snapped. ‘But I’m not going to offend friends just because they have the misfortune to be related to a shallow little trollop like you! Sorry,’ he corrected, looking her up and down slowly, ‘cancel the “little”…’

  ‘I’m wasting my time here.’ She turned on her heel and strode from the office. ‘How do I get out of here?’ she asked the surprised-looking PA.

  ‘First left and take the lift. If you’re in a hurry…?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘You could go through the factory floor, turn right and down the stairs.’

  Hope was blind to the eyes that followed her across the factory floor. Matheson cars were strictly low-tech, at least as far as their construction went, so there was no robot technology—just a dedicated, highly trained workforce. She didn’t even register the warning cry as the ground disappeared beneath her.

  At moments like this a girl with any sense would faint, she thought. Hope waited for the blackness to enfold her and block out the excruciating pain, but it didn’t. Someone flicked a switch and the inspection pit was illuminated by brilliant light. Hope showed extreme restraint and moaned softly in reply to several anxious enquiries.

  ‘Get the boss.’

  Get an ambulance, she wanted to scream. Instead she fainted, for the first time in her life.