Wild and Willing! (6 page)

‘Why not?’ he enquired, with an edge of husky indulgence that made her want to scream.

The friction as his hands moved lower over her buttocks, lifting her firmly up until she rested between the apex of his legs, made her panic. The urgency in him, the raw want, was outside her experience. He brought her knees up until she shared the makeshift seat with him, her knees either side of his narrow hips. Her position made her intimately aware of the strength of his arousal, and a rosy blush suffused her entire body.

Why not? Why not? He could actually ask that! She gasped as his hands slid under the shirt, moving in a slow, sweeping motion over the curve of her buttocks and up the dip of her waist to slide forward and cup a breast in each hand. His thumbs sought and discovered
the hardened peaks and delicately set about overriding her last shreds of sanity.

‘Faithless rat!’

He didn’t appear to have heard her hoarse cry. Warming to her theme, and calling on her final reserve of willpower, she repeated herself in a more forceful voice. She scrambled off his lap. ‘You shouldn’t have to ask why not!’

‘Better a rat than a vamp who cries “hands off” at the crucial moment.’ Frustration and fury replaced the blankness in his eyes, but he didn’t attempt to prevent her retreat.

‘Vamp!’ she echoed shrilly, her body shaking in reaction to the sudden plunge she’d taken from sensual pleasure to distasteful reality. His harsh jibe was enough to remind her that she’d done the right thing, but it didn’t stop her from aching.

‘Dear God, you’re so tied up with inhibitions I’m not surprised you can’t recognise plain, undiluted honesty. Contrary to your assessment I’m not into casual sex, neither do I see any need to hide the fact I find someone attractive. I did you— I hope you noticed the past tense there…
did
! Before I found out you were a narrow-minded, two-faced hypocrite. For your information I’m not some sex-starved bimbo.’

‘Let your mind drift back about twenty seconds, sweetheart,’ Adam drawled. His anger had been replaced by a speculative, cold expression which she found much more worrying.

‘I
despise
myself for that.’ She compressed her trembling lips firmly.

‘I do believe you do!’ he breathed incredulously.

‘I need my clothes.’

‘That’s not what you need.’ He watched the completely unexpected sheen of tears well in her wide eyes, and felt ashamed for labouring the point.

She wanted him as much as he did her. She hadn’t
tried to hide the fact whereas he had done just that. He’d convinced himself that his uncharacteristic behaviour of the previous week had been an aberration. It had taken seconds of being in Anna Lacey’s company to explode that myth. She fascinated him in a way that made him forget his responsibilities and act with the sense of some adolescent in the grip of a hormonal overload.

He knew his prospective marriage was a compromise for himself and Jessica, but up until now he hadn’t had any serious doubts that he could fulfil his side of the bargain. So much for the man of iron, he thought scornfully, astounded at how easily and eagerly he had forgotten his responsibilities. He was disgusted and ashamed. And Anna, reading both emotions in his eyes, felt physically sick.

‘I don’t need any of this, Adam.’

‘Then why invite it?’ he asked harshly. Recriminations seemed redundant, but he couldn’t help the bitterness that slipped out.

Anna recognised that he wanted to blame her for his own behaviour and she couldn’t deny she had been far from innocent. ‘I can’t seem to help it with you,’ she admitted with a catch in her voice. Her frustration and anger at this impossible situation raced to her rescue. ‘Don’t think I’m happy about losing my sense of discrimination and good taste!’

Her generous lips clamped shut over her gritted teeth. He’s about to marry another woman, Anna, she told herself furiously, and you keep offering yourself to him. Her bizarre and contradictory behaviour was totally inexplicable.

‘I think it would be best all round if we kept out of each other’s way. I’d hate to upset your neat plans.’

‘There’s no chance of that,’ Adam observed, with what she considered a heartless grin; it was as wintry as the weather outdoors.

‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ she told him with deep insincerity.
The direction of his gaze told her a little belatedly that the shirt had come unbuttoned as far as the indentation above her navel. She snatched the fabric together.

Adam’s hand came up to run down the square angle of his jaw. He looked furious. ‘Don’t act as if you’re not as much to blame for this as I am,’ he said heavily. ‘What is it with you? Are you so used to getting any man you want you can’t let one escape your clutches? Is this your notion of revenge for me not being smitten the other night?’

‘How dare you?’ she breathed furiously. ‘Don’t blame me if you can’t be faithful! I won’t be the scapegoat just because your perfect relationship is full of holes.’

‘Clothes,’ he said, his voice staccato and flat. ‘Put them on. I’ll run you home.’ His face was drawn and tense and an erratic pulse leapt in his lean cheek.

‘I’ll walk,’ she choked. She didn’t expect him to argue the point, and he didn’t. Relief…regret… Anna wasn’t sure which loomed largest in her heart.

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE
phone woke Anna. Anna who was never ill had caught a cold that turned inexorably into flu. She’d spent the following week confined to the house. Physically she was feeling better, but the listlessness she was experiencing was almost as debilitating as the fever had been.

‘Hi, Anna?’ Anna heard Rosalind’s voice.

‘How are you, Lindy?’

‘That’s what I rang to ask you.’

‘I’ll survive.’ The pause at the other end lengthened and Anna frowned. ‘Are
you
all right?’

‘Have you seen Adam?’ The casual tone was desperately false.

‘Not if I can help it,’ Anna said, her stomach churning at the mere thought of the man.

The sigh echoed down the line. ‘Of course not. I just wondered whether I should… No, it was a bad idea. I’ll sort things out myself. I just thought he might be able to advise. No, you’re right. I can do this alone. Thanks, Anna.’

‘Any time,’ Anna said, totally at sea. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ She’d rarely heard her calm sister sound so confused and distressed. Something was wrong, badly wrong.

‘It’s nothing,’ Rosalind reassured her brightly. ‘I’m just experiencing a few teething problems settling down with the new consultant. Nothing time won’t cure. We were spoilt with Adam; he’s so marvellous.’ There was no mistaking the deep sincerity in her sister’s husky tone. ‘You’ve no idea how much I miss him.’

Anna gasped, her mind in a whirl. How could she
have been so blind? She wasn’t the only Lacey to be smitten by Adam Deacon’s charm. Lindy knew him a lot better than she did; she’d worked with him for over a year. A year of being in close proximity to Adam would have sent her crazy!

‘Give my love to Mum and Dad and look after yourself. Speak to you soon.’

Shaken, Anna put the phone down. She cursed herself for being a blind fool. She’d been so busy resisting—or not—the strong sexual attraction she felt for Adam that she’d not given a moment’s thought to how her sister felt about him. He had come to the party with Rosalind, hadn’t he? That should have told her something.

By the time she’d knotted her old housecoat around her waist, pushed her feet into a pair of slippers and glanced at her wan reflection with distaste, she was totally convinced that her sister was hopelessly in love with Adam Deacon. The only questions that remained in her mind were if he had taken advantage of Lindy’s devotion and how far the affair had gone.

Anna made herself a cup of tea and prepared to take it back upstairs with her. She was feeling just the slightest bit neglected. Whilst it had seemed legitimate to grumble about her mother’s fussing, she rather missed it when left to her own devices.

Where was her mum? she wondered, still fretting over her sister’s broken heart. She ought to have been back a good hour ago. The sound of her mother’s voice from the sitting room made her backtrack.

‘I didn’t know you…’ She stopped, mouth open, hand on the half-open door.

‘You’re awake, Anna, dear. My, you really look dreadful. Doesn’t she, Adam?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ he said, seeing no need to soften the truth. There were dark shadows beneath her wide-spaced eyes and her cheekbones seemed more pronounced in the pallor of her small face.

Looking at the vulnerability of her naked face, he found himself experiencing a dismaying surge of protectiveness. He was asking for trouble being here, he’d known that, but he’d still come.

‘That damned car of mine broke down again and Adam very kindly rescued me. Come in and say hello.’

‘Can’t…’ Anna mumbled indistinctly. She was certain those brooding eyes were missing no awful detail of her shabby appearance. She’d planned on looking cool, confident and stunning when she next saw him. She’d been going to redeem her shattered self-respect by showing how easily she could dismiss him from her life.

She’d imagined several scenarios in which he ended up grovelling at her feet. Seeing him in the flesh made her accept that Adam wasn’t a grovelling sort of man!

‘I wouldn’t want to expose Mr Deacon to my virulent bug.’

Actually, she decided spitefully, I’d be rather pleased if his tanned complexion wasn’t glowing so disgustingly with health. Ruining my life obviously agrees with him, she thought resentfully. And not just mine; poor Lindy!

‘Nonsense! You’re not contagious now, just feeling sorry for yourself. I was just showing Adam the—’

Anna darted forward as she saw to her horror what lay open across her mother’s knees.

‘No, don’t!’ She saw the puzzled expression in her mother’s eyes and realised how loud and vehement she’d sounded. ‘I’m sure Mr Deacon doesn’t want to see old scrapbooks.’ She tried to moderate her tone.

Inside she was deeply agitated at the idea of Adam Deacon looking at the old pictures of herself before the knee injury had turned her life in a different direction. ‘We mustn’t bore him.’

‘I’m not bored.’ Anna shot him a murderous look.

‘He didn’t know about your dancing.’

‘Why should he?’ Anna’s hand shook as she placed her cup down on the table.

She felt impatient with herself. Adam Deacon was turning her into one of those silly, fluttery creatures she despised. This wouldn’t do at all! Adam Deacon was bad medicine as far as the Lacey girls were concerned, she concluded dourly. At least Hope was on the other side of the world; she at least was safe.

‘You’ve made a pot of tea. Good. You’ll have one, won’t you, Adam?’ Without waiting for a reply, Beth bustled off.

Aloof lack of interest and cold dismissal were reactions she’d mentally rehearsed. All her meticulous plans counted for nothing now. Finding him here so unexpectedly had chased all these set pieces from her head, especially in light of her recent realisation—poor Lindy!

Her own dishevelled appearance and the fact that he was casually flicking through her life history put Anna immediately on the offensive. She wanted to demand that he explain himself over his callous behaviour towards her sensitive sister. Wasn’t one of them enough? she wondered miserably.

‘What was your injury?’

‘Severed tendon.’ She reached out and closed the heavy book on his fingers. Adam made no comment as she snatched up the collection of newspaper cuttings and held it tightly to her chest.

‘Who operated?’ he persisted, not taking the hint.

‘Sir James Kennedy.’

‘The best.’

‘Isn’t that you?’ she snapped sarcastically. ‘Lindy seems to think so. She was only saying as much to me earlier,’ she said, her voice heavy with meaning. He didn’t even have the decency to look guilty!

‘How is Lindy?’ he asked casually.

‘As if you didn’t know!’ she said scornfully.

‘If I knew I wouldn’t have asked.’ His brows rose at her intensity.

‘She’s missing your godlike presence.’

‘I can understand this antagonism you have towards medicine after your experience, but Jamie Kennedy is
the
man for knees. Wasn’t the operation successful?’

‘I don’t have any antagonism towards medicine.’ Just you, she thought furiously. ‘What’s this, professional interest?’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘Actually from your point of view it was successful, and if I’d been almost anything but a ballet dancer it wouldn’t have mattered, but…’

‘Tragic. Wasn’t that what the critics said? “A young and startling talent lost”,’ he quoted accurately from a clipping he’d just read.

‘I’d reserve tragedy for death, disaster and famine,’ she assured him stoically. ‘In the great design of things I don’t think dancing is that important. Critics are prone to exaggeration.’

‘When they sang your praises?’

‘I was good,’ she said prosaically. ‘But we’ll never know how good now. Lots of people who promise talent don’t deliver. It’s ironic that the more finely trained your body is, the more vulnerable you are.’

‘It hasn’t left you bitter?’ His eyes raked her face as if he couldn’t credit she was as well adjusted to her personal tragedy as she appeared. The newspaper clippings hinted at a glittering future. It would take an exceptional person to come to terms with losing something you’d spent half your life aiming for.

‘It
could
have,’ she told him, thinking back over her formative years spent with one goal in mind. She’d had a tantalising glimpse of that goal. From solo roles she’d progressed to a senior position in a touring company, and there had been talk of a new star in the ascendant. She ignored the familiar empty feeling of loss and squared her shoulders. She could do without Adam’s forays into amateur psychology.

‘Are you trying to tell me you are philosophical about it? You don’t feel cheated?’

He really couldn’t take a hint! She shrugged her slender shoulders fractionally, looking absurdly small and fragile in the oversized robe. But she wasn’t fragile. Years of discipline had made her body supple and strong; that much she hadn’t lost.