Avoiding Mr Right (13 page)

Remember he lied to you, she told herself. Remember that. You found the strength to turn him down. You can’t weaken now. Why let him back into your head the moment you’re on your own again? Pull yourself together, for heaven’s sake, or you’ll be a sitting duck if he comes back…

She swallowed at the very thought. He wouldn’t come back, she assured herself. Surely he wouldn’t. She had turned him down in no uncertain terms. And he had not
said
he would be back. Besides, he still had his beastly job to do. If he continued his pursuit of her, he had no guarantee that she would not shop him to the Princess.

Yet … She shivered. She had dismissed him comprehensively when she walked out on him in that Athens café. And it had not noticeably deterred him. He had found her in Costa’s. He had been quite prepared to stalk her along the Athens waterfront. Who was to say that he would not do it again? If he did, was she strong enough to remember he had lied to her, used her, or tried to? Was she strong enough to go on saying no?

In the warm dark Christina swallowed. She was not at all sure.

She leaned on the rail and looked towards the little town. Was he still there? Was he prowling the hotel, waiting to capture the Princess and Stuart Define in some beautiful, disastrous photograph? And if so, was he thinking of her? Or had he dismissed her from his mind while he got back to the serious business of pursuing his career and his life?

Almost certainly the latter, Christina thought. She moved restlessly. She hated the thought that he could forget her. Especially as she was having no success in doing the same with him.

‘Vanity,’ she told herself. ‘That’s all it is—offended vanity that he got to you more than you got to him. Not very nice but not deadly either.
Forget
him.’

She was still trying to convince herself that it was a matter of will-power when the gangway creaked. Startled, she peered down into the darkness. It could not be one of the crew. They made a lot more noise than that after a few hours ashore. Could it be the Princess back so early?

She leaned over the side, straining her ears. This time it was easier to hear—a firm tread on the creaking boards. No, definitely not the Princess. A thief? Her heart lurched at the thought. Could someone have been watching the
Lady Elaine
? Seeing the Princess and most of the crew leave, had someone deduced that the boat was deserted and come on board to see what he could pick up? If so, it would have to be dealt with.

Christina ran on silent feet to the deck below. The man, whoever he was, did not seem to be worried about detection. He was not even trying to disguise his presence. He was a tall figure in the shadows, wearing some sort of pale shirt and dark trousers. She had the impression of height and a lean, competent strength as he vaulted over the railing and onto the deck.

He stood there for a moment, looking around. He was taking his bearings, she saw. Her indignation rose as she watched him survey the place as if he had every right to be there. Christina’s fear was swamped with sheer outrage. She stepped forward out of the shadow of the overhanging deck.

‘Looking for something?’ she flung at the dark figure.

He froze momentarily. Then, slowly, he turned.

‘You.’ Her voice was odd in the darkness. It took Christina a moment to recognise the feeling: naked shock. And then she had a blaze of irritation. ‘I should have known.’

The shock was not all she recognised, and it was mutual. The intruder was Luc Henri, and it was clear that he was so far from coming in search of her that he was downright furious to have encountered her like this.

She took a step backwards. ‘What are you doing here?’ It was an accusation.

Luc ignored it. ‘What are you-?’ he countered. ‘Simon said—That is, I thought everyone had gone ashore.’

‘So I guessed,’ Christina snapped. ‘What are you looking for? Love letters? Incriminating photographs? Or were you thinking of grilling the children?’ She was almost weeping. With fury, she assured herself.

He stared at her in the darkness. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You deliberately waited until the Princess had gone ashore, didn’t you?’

‘Waited?’ Luc shook his head slowly.

‘You’re playing games again,’ Christina said wearily. ‘I know you’ve been following her. I saw you coming out of the hotel’s press office.’

He shook his head again. ‘I don’t see the connection.’ He sounded puzzled.

She said suddenly, harshly, ‘How much are they paying you? Or is this a freelance assignment and you sell to the highest bidder?’

‘Sell…?’ Luc sounded completely blank.

She took a hasty step forward. ‘I could
hit
you,’ she said in choked voice. ‘Why won’t you tell me the truth?’

He stared down at her in the darkness. A slight breeze was stirring her soft hair out of the hastily tied ribbon at the back of her neck. He seemed not to be listening to her. He reached out and stroked a couple of the escaped fronds. The sensation of his fingers barely touching the vulnerable softness below her ear stopped Christina from breathing for a moment. She gave a gulp.

His hand stilled at once.

‘This is a hell of a time,’ he muttered.

Then he pulled her to him, so suddenly that it jerked her off balance. It was almost rough. It was also as if he could not stop himself. In the cool dark, his mouth was hot and searching.

Christina responded like a parched forest catching fire. She was helpless to do anything else. In his hands she lost all power of rational thought. She knew it and despised herself for it. It made no difference. She held him as fiercely as he held her and gave him kiss for kiss.

When he let her go they were both breathing hard.

‘A
hell
of a time,’ Luc said again. His voice was not entirely steady, but that note of private laughter was back. He pushed a hand through his hair and looked down at her, not letting her go. ‘So what are we going to do about it, Christina, my lovely?’

She was shaken. ‘I’m not your lovely,’ she said, trying to regain her sanity. ‘I—’

He gave her a soft laugh. ‘Still not happy with compliments? But you are, you know,’ he murmured. ‘You only have to look in the mirror.’

‘To see I’m lovely?’ She put all the amused disdain that she could manage into her voice. ‘I’ve been looking in the mirror for nearly twenty-four years without clocking that one.’

Luc flicked her bottom lip with a casual finger. It spoke of total possession more eloquently than words. The words she was about to add died on Christina’s tongue.

‘And to see you’re mine. Maybe the one depends on the other,’ he said provocatively.

‘No,’
she said in a strangled voice.

But he had taken her into his arms again. He dealt swiftly with the top she was wearing. One hand went to her breast, teasing, tantalising. The other sustained her as she swayed. Christina heard herself moan. It appalled her but there was nothing she could do about it.

‘No?’ Luc taunted softly.

His touch was a delight and a torment. Christina’s head fell back.

‘Please—don’t do this to me,’ she said raggedly, all pride gone.

He bent over her. In the dark his eyes glittered. In a strangely rough voice he said, ‘What do I do to you that you don’t do to me?’

His hands moved to her hips, pulling her hard against him. He moved explicitly. Christina felt her senses whirl. She clung to him as the stars dipped and swayed behind his shoulder. The deck lurched under her. She was shaking.

Luc ran his tongue along her exposed collar-bone. Her skin quivered at the twin assaults of the night air and his warm mouth. He felt her reaction instantly. He laughed.

‘You’re mine, aren’t you?’

It felt like a taunt. Christina could not deny it but she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud either. She shook her head silently.

It annoyed Luc. In the darkness she felt rather than saw the movement as his heavy brows twitched together. He shook her a little.

‘Tell me you’re mine,’ he ground out.

His hands slid lower, pressing, caressing. It was a torment to deny him, but she had to if she was going to hold onto any self-respect at all.

‘I—can’t,’ said Christina on a gasp.

They both knew that she was saying no to a lot more than the spoken command. His hold tightened.

‘No,’
she said on an agonised breath. ‘No. Listen to me, Luc. Be sensible. You shouldn’t be here.’

‘I know exactly where I should be. Where we should both be.’ There was a laugh in his voice. He nuzzled her throat.

Christina tried to lever herself away from him. Without success.

‘I’m not joking,’ she said, though her senses were flaming and her voice was far from as resolute as she would have liked.

That seemed to amuse him even more. ‘Neither am I.’ His face moved against her skin. ‘Mmm, you smell like heaven. What is it?’

‘Salad dressing,’ snapped Christina, trying to prise herself out of his arms.

He gave a choke of laughter. ‘The sexiest salad dressing in the world.’

‘I wish you’d stop laughing at everything I say.’

‘And
I
wish you’d stop talking.’

Luc’s mouth closed over hers in precise illustration of his meaning. Christina gave up trying to extract herself from the powerful embrace and tried instead to use the unavoidable interval to collect her thoughts. It was not easy.

He lifted his head.

‘You’re not concentrating,’ he said reproachfully.

Christina was grim. ‘Oh, yes, I am.’

‘No, you’re not. I have a great deal of experience in this area and I can categorically state—’ He broke off abruptly, his head lifting.

Christina froze too. She held her breath, ears strained.

‘What is it?’ she whispered at last.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Did you hear someone?’

Luc sounded abstracted. ‘Maybe.’

He put her away from him and turned to face the upper deck, still listening. Christina took the opportunity to readjust her top. It had sunk to her waist but somehow she found the straps and hauled them up over her shoulders. She was not at all sure that she had the thing on the right way round but it would have to do. She seized his arm.

‘The captain’s supposed to be on watch. He could have come down for another bottle,’ she said urgently under her breath.

‘Possibly.’

Luc was still alert, still scanning the decks. He seemed to be paying no attention whatsoever to her. Christina was too anxious to be resentful, however.

‘You’d better get out. He’s got a nasty temper, especially after a day like today.’

He sent her a quick, unsmiling look. ‘What happened today?’ he said sharply.

Christina winced. ‘Look, Luc, can you forget you’re a reporter just for a few minutes? Just long enough to get off this boat? Please?’

He went very still. ‘A reporter?’

‘I told you, I saw you,’ she said impatiently. ‘That’s not important. What is important is that they don’t find you here. I don’t imagine the Prince would be very keen on journalists snooping round his boat. It’s probably trespass or something. And he doesn’t sound like the sort of man who would forgive and forget.’

He was staring at her in the darkness. ‘A
reporter
?’

There was a definite flurry of footsteps on the planks over their heads. Christina was in an agony. She shook his arm impatiently, indicating the gangway with its pretty awning bleached grey in the moonlight.

‘Go
on
.’

Luc must have heard the footsteps too. He ignored them.

‘But if I’m a reporter shouldn’t you be hanging onto me, giving me up to the proper authorities?’

She was pushing at him now. He was immovable. It was maddening.

‘Well, yes, in theory, I suppose. But—’

‘So why don’t you?’ he asked softly.

‘And why don’t you stop interrogating me and just take your chance before I change my mind?’ Christina urged, exasperated.

‘Yes, why don’t I?’ He sounded really curious.

His hand slid round her waist, whipped her close to him. His fingers slid under the thin fabric of her top, making a mockery of its careful readjustment.

‘For heaven’s sake, go,’ Christina urged.

‘Call out and have me thrown off,’ he invited.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Now, why is that ridiculous?’

‘Because…’ But she was not sure of the reason. She just knew it was.

‘After all, you don’t trust me. You’ve told me that at least three times today.’ His voice was suddenly hard. ‘You kiss me like a woman in love but you won’t spend the night with me. You keep telling me to go away. So why not just call for help and get the whole thing over with?’

A woman in love?
Oh, Lord, no, prayed Christina silently.

She arched as far out of his hold as she could get. ‘I don’t want to stir up trouble for the sake of it,’ she muttered, distracted.

Even to her own ears it sounded feeble. Luc looked down at her scornfully. ‘Why not, if you seriously want to get rid of me?’

‘I—’

But she couldn’t answer him. There wasn’t an answer. He had found out what she had been hiding even from herself. She did not seriously want to get rid of him. She did not trust his motives, she did not believe a word he said, she knew that he was clever and resourceful and probably ruthless, but when he held her in his arms she took a step into another dimension.

She forgot the Princess to whom she owed loyalty, or the children to whom her heart had gone out. Most of all she forgot what she owed to herself: a decent self-respect, protection for her vulnerabilities, defiance of her dignity. All she remembered was Luc.

‘Oh, God,’ Christina said on a sob.

‘My darling—’ His voice was suddenly urgent, but there was a new flurry of footsteps, this time ones which could not be ignored. They pounded down the companion-way, light and fast and no longer furtive. The beam of a powerful torch came on abruptly, raking them from head to toe.

Luc put her quickly behind him, but not soon enough to prevent the light dazzling her. Christina flung up a hand to shield her fractured sight.