Deceived (Harlequin Presents) by Craven Sara

Author:Craven, Sara [Craven, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Publisher: Harlequin Treasury-Harlequin Presents 90s
Published: 2011-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

LYDIE found her voice. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Waiting for you.’

‘But you didn’t know I’d be here.’

Marius’s mouth twisted. ‘Didn’t I?’

The question seemed to burn into the brief, tense silence which enfolded them.

She thought, Of course he knew—just like he’s always known. Both of us drawn here—even against our wills—by each other...

She rallied herself. She said crisply, ‘I thought you were at the mill—with Austin.’

He shrugged. ‘We finished going through the sales reports earlier than expected.’ There was a flatness in his tone which confirmed the trouble that Jon had foreseen. ‘I dropped him at the golf club and came to find you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because by now you’ve had time to think, and you’ll want to talk,’ he returned laconically. He paused. ‘I guessed it would be a conversation best enjoyed in total privacy.’

Her heart missed a beat. She said, ‘I didn’t see your car.’

‘I came by the other road.’

It was, of course, the obvious explanation, but the thought that he’d been able to predict her actions, and had been lying in wait for her here, was still a disturbing one.

She moved abruptly, and winced as the shoulder she’d knocked throbbed in protest.

He noticed instantly. ‘What have you done?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Really?’ he asked sardonically. He put his hands on her arms and turned her so that he could inspect the damage. His touch was gentle but unequivocally insistent. Lydie knew that she could not have pulled away if she’d tried.

Marius was frowning, tight-lipped. ‘You’ve torn your shirt,’ he commented. For a heart-stopping moment she felt the brush of his fingers as he lifted the ripped material away from her skin. ‘And you’re going to have the mother and father of a bruise. Maybe you should have it looked at.’

‘And maybe I shouldn’t,’ she said curtly, stepping back as he released her, hating the way her pulses were pounding. ‘I bruise easily.’

‘I wouldn’t have said so.’ There was a note in his voice which grated along her senses. His smile was swift and humourless, his eyes without warmth as he studied her. ‘You certainly never used to startle so easily.’

‘Perhaps,’ she said steadily. ‘I used to have less reason to be nervous.’

He nodded meditatively. ‘Your thinking seems to have been to good purpose, Madonna Lily.’

Perhaps it was the new edge to the breeze which made her shiver. She looked up at the great mass of cloud advancing steadily towards them.

She thought, ‘The bright day is done, and we are for the dark.’

She said slowly, ‘I asked you—that first night—why you’d come back. And you didn’t answer. I’m asking again now.’

‘I came,’ he said, ‘to reclaim everything that belongs to me.’

‘Not for—revenge?’ She could hardly believe she’d said the word. Nothing seemed real any more—not the ache of her bruised shoulder, not the ground beneath her feet, or the cool wind bringing the first hint of rain. And certainly not this stranger confronting her across some unthinkable, unbridgeable gulf.

‘Ah—revenge.’ His mouth twisted. ‘A dish best eaten cold—isn’t that what they say?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But you have a horrible suspicion you’re going to find out.

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