The Blackmailed Bride (6 page)

Kate on the other hand, saw the good sense in what her mother was saying; she certainly had no desire to ruin everyone else's holiday.

‘Actually, Dad…' she stopped, losing track of her train of thought as her attention was fatally distracted by the figure silently entering the room behind her father.

The younger man had to be at least six four or five to be able to dwarf Charles Anderson's burly figure. His autocratic air might make sense now but it didn't make it any less obnoxious to Kate.

As a man born to wield power, Javier Montero certainly fulfilled all the criteria. He was arrogant, overbearing and insufferably rude. An unashamed aristocrat, who smugly imagined an accident of birth gave him special rights and privileges, decided the woman who made a point of never judging people on appearances!

Mentally pulling his character to shreds gave her a temporary respite from examining in any depth the worrying fact she found his presence electrifying.

Kate wasn't the sort of person who normally had a problem laughing at herself or her mistakes when the circumstances warranted it, but there were limits! When she thought about how terrified she'd been, her blood boiled. No doubt he'd been having a laugh at her expense all night.

Amongst the things she'd said that made her squirm now, the recollection of the earnest advice she'd given him on reforming his criminal life stood out as particularly cringe-worthy!

Kate constructively converted her embarrassment to anger as she glared with distrust and dislike at Javier's dis
tinguished profile. Why the hell hadn't he just come out and explained who he was, like any normal person, instead of letting her blather on and on?

Javier wasn't surprised by the to-hell-with-you look in those velvety exotically slanted eyes as they met his—head on, of course. He'd already worked out that K. M. Anderson was an impetuous, head-on sort of female. This characteristic made her very different from most of the women he knew, women who often said what they imagined he wanted to hear. Though there was nothing remotely predatory about this Kate—in fact, if anything, she gave the impression of being unaware of her own attractiveness—she was undoubtedly intelligent and strong-willed.

As much as he admired these traits, Javier wasn't normally sexually attracted to women who possessed them. Perhaps the allure in this case had something to do with the fact these characteristics came wrapped in the sort of body he'd always admired—athletic without being muscular, curvaceous without being lush, he decided appreciatively as his eyes skimmed her recumbent form.

He acknowledged her antagonism with the very faintest of wry smiles that suggested to the seething Kate he was enjoying every second of her discomfort.

Childishly determined not to be the first to look away, she didn't know how long the silent eye-to-eye combat continued, but she was relieved and immensely grateful when Conrad Latimer's timely intervention gave her a legitimate excuse to look away.

‘It seems likely that your daughter, Mr Anderson, has a viral infection of some sort to go with a mild concussion.'

‘Caught no doubt from the horrid child she nursed all the way over in the plane,' Elizabeth clarified with a disapproving sniff.

‘Always the soft touch, hey, Katie,' her father remarked fondly as, ignoring his wife's remonstrances, he hugged his
daughter. ‘Feeling pretty rotten…?' He straightened up and tugged one limp strand of blonde hair as he keenly surveyed his eldest daughter's pale face.

Now she wasn't looking at the elegant, tall figure oozing more vitality than seemed decent for one individual, Kate's breathing had almost settled to a normal rhythm.

‘Not too bad, Dad.'

Javier, who had been conversing with the doctor in a soft undertone, stepped quietly forwards. It required no dramatic gestures to make his lean, dynamic figure the focus of attention; Kate found herself admiring his sheer presence even as she resented it.

She watched as he inclined his head courteously towards her mother, who looked bowled over by this old-fashioned display—though Kate suspected that her mother was so disgustingly impressed by his financial and social position it would take a lot to make her look upon him with anything but fawning approval! She watched his display with a cynical smile. Oh, no doubt about it, his company manners were second to none, she brooded, but having been on the receiving end of his anger she could have told them about another less pleasant side to his nature… Big bully!

‘You'll wish to stay with your daughter no doubt, Mrs Anderson. I'm afraid for obvious reasons there is no second bedroom in this suite.' This comment elicited a flurry of smiles. ‘But I'll arrange for a bed to be brought in here…or would you prefer it in the sitting room…?'

‘Oh! Oh no, we couldn't possibly put you to so much trouble…'

Kate saw her mother's dilemma straight off; she also saw the cynical twist of Javier's lips as he listened politely to the older woman bluster.

If Elizabeth hadn't been so loath to appear anything but the caring mother in this man's eyes, she'd have recoiled in horror at the idea of playing nurse. Kate knew that any
thing to do with illness spooked her mother—especially the possibility she might become ill herself! Fortunately, other than her scald, both she and Susie had been extremely healthy children. But her burns had been bad and had left a lasting impact on Kate—and a dislike of hospitals.

‘I'd much prefer to go back to my own room,' she put in hurriedly. ‘I'm feeling much better.'

‘Kate doesn't like to be fussed when she's ill,' her father explained to Javier. ‘But do you think it's such a good idea going back to your own room, Kate? If Susie catches something, we'll all be…!' His bushy brows which met over the bridge of his nose arched expressively.

‘God, no!'
Kate exclaimed immediately. ‘I can't do that.' Susie, like their mother, was not the most stoic of patients; she never suffered alone! ‘And I don't want to pass this bug on to the other guests.'

‘You will naturally stay here as long as necessary, Kate.'

The way he said her name made Kate's skin prickle—not a good sign. She just hoped it was antipathy and nothing more sinister that was responsible for this sensation! She longed to refuse the offer on more than one count—firstly all her instincts told her to disagree in principle with anything this wretched man said, secondly she desperately didn't want to be beholden with him, and last, but not least, she could sense her mother putting two and two together and coming up with an unhealthy five!

Kate tensed. If Mum starts dropping heavy hints of a matrimonial nature, I'll kill her, she vowed. Better that, though, she reflected worriedly, than seeing her blatant matchmaking mother annihilated by one of the cutting barbs she was sure Javier was more than capable of delivering!

‘Now that's what I call a generous offer,' Charles Anderson said, looking mightily relieved. ‘Isn't it, Kate?'

Kate smiled in a sickly way back at him and tried un
successfully to resist the mesmeric pull of mocking blue eyes—she failed miserably. Chin up, she glared, ignoring that sinking sensation low in her belly; whilst she was in no position to throw his offer back in his face, she could at least make sure he knew that's what she'd like to do!

‘It's the least I can do, under the circumstances,' he responded smoothly.

‘You bet it is!'
Aware of the stares that her spiky retort had caused, Kate forced herself to smile. She gritted her teeth through the horridly bright grimace and fantasised about puncturing his ego—it was a healthier fantasy than others she'd indulged in recently.

‘Yes, very kind,' she responded stiffly.

I
T SEEMED
like hours to Kate before the room finally emptied and she was left alone. She waited until she heard the door click closed with a sound of promising finality before leaving her bed to search for the bathroom. Her need was fairly urgent and the search proved to be frustratingly slow.

‘Never a loo when you need one,' she grumbled softly to herself as the first two doors she opened turned out to be walk-in wardrobes. She was about to try out the third when a voice at her shoulder almost made her leap out of her skin.

‘You should not be out of bed.'

Hand pressed to her thundering heart, she spun around, an action which made her head spin as she tilted it back to look up at the tall man towering over her.

‘You're gone…!'

Even before one dark brow rose, Kate was wincing at the inanity of this patently false observation, because he definitely was very much there!

Every lean, muscle-packed inch of Javier Montero was standing so close that, had she chosen to reach out, she could have touched him—touched his broad chest, his lean flat belly. In fact, had she wanted to touch him, like a child in a sweet shop she'd have been spoilt for choice!

Kate swallowed hard and averted her eyes before she was totally submerged by the wave of sensual inertia that washed over her. She might no longer fear for her life in his presence but she wasn't so sure about her sanity. This man's raw masculinity had roughly the same effect as a thousand volts of unearthed electricity on her nerves.

‘I thought you were asleep.'

What would it be like, she found herself speculating, to wake up and find that face on the pillow beside you when you woke up? She swallowed convulsively, further unsettled by the alarming direction of her maverick thoughts. Aware that his heavy-lidded eyes were sliding thoughtfully over the length of her body, she folded her arms defensively over her chest and felt extremely glad she'd taken the time to exchange the slinky black undies for the pretty nightdress which was beautifully cool on her overheated body and, more importantly, given her present situation, covered her from neck to ankle.

It was doubtful she would have considered this a fortuitous exchange had she realised that, despite the demure design and sweet embroidered flowers around the scooped neckline, the borrowed nightdress was totally transparent beneath the electric light!

‘So you just thought you'd, what…? Come and watch me?' Now there was a
very
unsettling thought. ‘Have you been demoted to nursemaid, or has making money got boring?'

‘If you'd agreed to be transferred to the clinic overnight, as the doctor suggested, I wouldn't need to…'

She may not have been in a position to explain to her parents and the doctor why Javier's hospitality was neither kind nor acceptable, but she was not willingly going to actively participate in the debate over her healthcare options. Once, however, she had realised that the possibility of her being transferred to some posh clinic or other—in her eyes, a hospital was a hospital!—was being mooted, Kate become animated for as long as it took her to make it abundantly clear to everyone that, short of hog-tying or sectioning her under the Majorcan equivalent of the Mental Health Act, there was no way she was going to any plush private clinic!

‘And as for CT scans and skull X-rays, I won't have one!' she had explained firmly.

When she'd heard her father begin to apologetically explain away her unreasonable behaviour with a discreet reference to the numerous operations and skin grafts she'd bravely endured as a child, Kate had cut him short with a glare so ferocious he'd not attempted to continue. Her hospital phobia, well-known to those who knew her best, was not something she wanted revealing to a man like Javier Montero.

‘Spend a night in hospital for a bump on the head…?
Nonsense!'
she contended stubbornly.

‘
Bumps
on the head have been known to have serious consequences…and I do feel indirectly responsible for your injury…'

‘With damn good reason—you are responsible!'

‘The doctor told me to watch out for irrational behaviour. Help me out here… Is this the norm for you, or should I start worrying?'

‘Very funny! You're a laugh a minute, not to mention a regular ray of sunshine!' she snorted. ‘I suppose you're just hanging around in the hope I'll take a turn for the worse? Well, sorry to disappoint you; I'm feeling fine,' she lied.

Though he didn't respond as such to her childish retort, he still managed with just a look to make her feel petty and churlish. ‘No, you're not. As I've already told you, I feel partially responsible for your injuries and, besides, who else was there? Your mother?'

‘Leave my mother out of this… Not everyone makes a good nurse,' Kate defended hotly. ‘And even if I needed one, which I don't, you wouldn't be it!'

‘Possibly not, but as it happens I'm all you have, and fortunately I have an extremely robust immune system; I don't get ill…'

Listening to this complacent pronouncement, Kate
couldn't help but uncharitably wish he'd contract something nasty, not dangerously so—she wasn't a malicious girl—but bad enough to turn that aristocratic nose red and make those glorious electric-blue eyes watery and red-rimmed.

‘Pity!' It was deeply frustrating to discover her vicious comment merely seemed to amuse him. Beyond amusement there was a flicker of something else—something she couldn't quite identify, that moved behind his eyes and made her vaguely uneasy. ‘I thought people like you clicked your fingers and minions came to do your bidding.'

One dark brow arched. ‘People like me?'

‘The disgustingly rich and idle.'

‘Wealth is relative. Many would not think your upbringing impoverished; many more might even infer you would not have achieved the success you have if you hadn't had the—'

‘What do you know about my achievements?' she flared angrily.

‘Your parents are extremely proud of you…'

Kate's eyes widened with almost comic dismay. She could see it all, Dad rabbiting on in a besotted way about his clever daughter. God, how embarrassing…!

‘My father is, you mean.' Kate instantly regretted she'd allowed him to goad her in to making this revealing observation.

‘No, your mother would prefer you to marry well, I think.'

Someone like you, she almost flung, before caution intervened. ‘And I suppose
well,
to you, means someone with loads of money…'

‘No I think that's what it means to your mother,' he returned, a shade of impatience entering his voice. ‘It offends you to be judged on anything other than merit, doesn't it?'

Kate nodded. ‘Of course it does!' She knew she'd had more advantages than many people, but she'd worked damned hard to get where she was and had never traded on her father's reputation, despite the fact it could have opened many doors for her.

‘Yet you do not hesitate to judge me? You have a fine legal mind; do you not detect a certain inconsistency in your attitude…?'

Kate would have walked on hot coals before she'd have acknowledged the compelling justice of this stinging rebuke; she felt herself colour under his ironic gaze.

‘Incidentally,' he drawled, ‘I dislike inactivity; it bores me…'

Despite his languid tone, Kate could readily believe that; the man before her was not a relaxing person. It was impossible to imagine spending an evening curled up contentedly on a sofa beside him, watching an old film on telly, and not just because it was highly unlikely he'd ask someone like her; he exuded a restless vitality the like of which she'd never encountered before.

‘I do beg your pardon,' she drawled crankily. ‘Rich and active.'

‘Aren't we rather losing track of the point here? Leaving my bank balance aside for one moment, the doctor did specifically say that you should stay in bed until the morning.'

‘Slight problem there—I need the bathroom—
now!
' she revealed with malicious relish—such a statement was sure to dismay this fastidious individual. She was disappointed.

Head tilted slightly to one side, in a gesture she was starting to recognised as characteristic of him, Javier appeared to consider this blunt announcement calmly for a moment before he nodded his head in a manner Kate supposed was the equivalent hereabouts of gracious Royal approval.

‘You might own the place,' she grouched, ‘but I think
you'll find yourself on shaky legal ground when it comes to wandering uninvited into guests' bedrooms.' Perhaps this wasn't the most gracious response from someone who was occupying a swish suite, courtesy of the management, but Kate was too rattled by his presence to be polite about the intrusion.

‘Perhaps we should discuss the legal definition of trespass after you have…erm…availed yourself of the facilities?' he suggested smoothly. ‘Next door down,' he added, a sharp tilt of his head indicating the direction she needed to take.

Kate sniffed her disgruntled agreement. ‘Everywhere I go he's there!' she grumbled darkly to herself in a voice just about loud enough for him to hear. ‘Anyone would think you liked me…'
You wish…!

His blue eyes dropped to the lush outline of her parted lips. ‘Would that be so extraordinary?'

The husky rasp in his voice, combined with the scorching regard, had Kate diving through the door. She heard the sound of his husky amused laugh and her chin went up. Eyes narrowed, she poked her head out from behind the door.

‘Yes!'
she yelled succinctly before ducking back inside and slamming the door behind her.

Leaning heavily against the wall, waiting for her breathing to slow, she was alarmed to discover a silly grin on her face—anyone would think she enjoyed exchanging insults with the awful man.

A few minutes later, when she emerged from the bathroom, she discovered him lounging indolently in a leather easy chair he'd pulled up to the bedside. He got to his feet as she approached and poured a glass of iced water from the full jug that had appeared magically on her bedside table.

‘Plenty of fluids, I believe the doctor said, and maybe
the robe is not such a good idea,' he murmured as she climbed back into bed, still muffled in the thick ankle-length robe she'd pulled on when she'd seen her reflection in the mirrored bathroom wall.

‘You might have told me…' she hissed indignantly.

‘Told you what?' he asked guilelessly.

As if he didn't know. ‘That the damned thing was transparent!' she choked. Not coy about her body, it wasn't the fact that someone had accidentally got an eyeful…it was
who
had received it that had made her duck her head under the cold water tap until she could hold her breath no longer.

‘I didn't look.'

The virtuous announcement wrenched a laugh from Kate's throat—so the man had a sense of humour after all. ‘This is no laughing matter,' she retorted sternly.

‘I wasn't laughing,' he reminded her gently.

Kate decided to anticipate his next inevitable observation. ‘But I expect you saw enough to know it isn't me in the photos.' There was no way her trim but unremarkable figure could be mistaken for the celestial vision revealed in the grainy photos.

‘Ah, the photographs.' He shrugged. ‘The unusual hair colouring did mislead me initially.' His glance lingered on the freshly dampened strands that clung to her face and dripped wetly down her neck. ‘But I had already come to the conclusion you were not the model.'

Of course, the figure in the photos didn't have any scars—how slow am I…? ‘Pity you didn't catch on
before
you treated me like some sort of cheap tart!' The memory of his stinging contempt still rankled.

‘I wasn't the only one guilty of jumping to the wrong conclusions,' he reminded her drily.

As if I could forget Kate thought, shifting uncomfortably as she reviewed with a mental shudder the whole humiliating incident.

‘I only thought what you wanted me to?' she countered belligerently. ‘It suited your purposes very well to have me scared stiff of you, didn't it?' she accused astutely.

‘On occasion, a little bit of fear can expedite matters,' he agreed.

Kate wasn't surprised to see a total lack of remorse in his manner—the man was clearly without principles!

‘However,' he continued seamlessly, ‘it was obvious from the outset that you are a difficult person to intimidate…'

‘An expert on intimidation, are you?'

Far from insulting him, her acid retort only made him look modestly smug. Kate gritted her teeth in frustration; if she hadn't experienced the frightening impact of his raw anger first-hand she wouldn't have believed it was possible to break through that urbane mask. Put him in the witness stand, she brooded darkly, and he'd be every lawyer's nightmare!

‘It didn't take an expert at anything to figure out that you are not the sort of woman who would allow herself to be compromised in that way.'

Was that a backhanded compliment or an insult too subtle for her to figure out? Kate puzzled suspiciously. Her candid gaze, which had frequently in the past unnerved the boldest of adversaries, faltered; only by gathering all her mental resources did she maintain eye contact.

‘I take it,' she replied finally, ‘you still have them—the photos.'

‘They are safe,' he confirmed with infuriating caution.

A frown marred the smooth sweep of her forehead as she fought to retain her shaky composure. ‘They're mine.' She was unable to prevent the edge of desperation creeping into her belligerent claim.

His keen eyes scanned her tense, strained features. ‘We'll discuss this in the morning when you are rested and hope
fully feeling less feverish,' he announced, in the manner of someone who was accustomed to having his every suggestion treated as if it was inscribed in stone. ‘I'll be in the sitting room, should you require anything; I have some paperwork to attend to. Do not hesitate—'