The Seduction Trap (7 page)

‘I could hardly leave you to cope. No gentleman leaves a woman in the lurch. I’ll let myself out.’ Either Tessa’s hearing was faulty, or he sounded husky. She frowned, unable to understand why. ‘I’ll come round in the morning,’ he added.

‘No!’ she demurred. ‘I couldn’t possibly let you. You don’t need to-’

‘I do.’ To her alarm, he took her hand in both of his and stared, earnestly into her rapidly widening eyes.

All her hormones were telling her to encourage him. Luckily she found the tag-ends of her common sense and drew back, her face set in disapproval. ‘No!’ she muttered sharply, her pulses racing like wildfire from the warm intimacy of his hands. Guy gave her one of his heart-stopping smiles. ‘I must,’ he said with a helpless shrug. ‘You know you have something I want very badly. And I think you’d like to give it up.’ Did he mean what she thought? ‘I-’ She cleared her throat. So she’d been right. He was an incorrigible flirt. How depressing. What about Giselle? Were there no faithful men left in the world? she wondered sadly. ‘I have nothing that would interest you,’ she said in a funny little grating voice. ‘That’s what you think. I look forward to tomorrow,’ he drawled lazily. His hand smoothed her hair, resting for a breathless moment on the nape of her neck. ‘Au revoir, Tessa; sweet dreams,’ he whispered, his lips provocatively close to hers. And, with an assured smile, he left her to burn in the most unexpected places, her mouth as dry as a desert and her eyes wide with alarm at what he might be contemplating.

TESSA calmed down after she’d demolished the plate of pasta, grudgingly acknowledging that it had tasted fantastic, given the poverty of the ingredients.

Exhausted, she stumbled up the stairs, every muscle in her body aching. Ignoring the bleakness of the shuttered bedroom, with its naked bulb overhead, she slept too deeply for dreams, sweet or otherwise.

A telephone bell woke her. Its insistence penetrated her sleep-dulled brain and eventually she hauled herself from the bed and fumbled her way across the wooden boards to the door, arriving breathless in the kitchen. Without her contact lenses everything was a blur, and she crashed into a chair before she reached the phone, mercifully directed by the shrill ringing. ‘Hello?’ she said uncertainly, rubbing her bruised thigh and then hopping on one leg as she tried to ease the pain in her stubbed toe.

‘Darling!’ came her mother’s voice, warm, laughing, husky. Tessa froze in mid-hop. ‘What kept you? Now, don’t interrupt; your father’s paying for the call-’

‘Father?’ squeaked Tessa. Was this a dream? Her aching toe proved otherwise. ‘Are you with Dad?’

‘Listen!’ her mother said, impatience edging through the low tone. ‘Sorry I couldn’t be there to meet you, but I had to leave urgently for England. Don’t tell anyone! Do you understand? Not anyone! Promise!’

‘If you say so,’ Tessa said, stifling her disappointment. She’d hoped her mother had gone somewhere near, so that they could meet. The creditors must have really scared her.

‘You don’t mind staying, do you? You were going to look after the cottages anyway,’ coaxed Estelle. ‘Now they’re yours, you’ll have more incentive. Check on the guests and solve any problems that come up. Stay put whatever you do, so I can be in touch. Don’t let me down, Tessy.’

‘No, but-’

‘You’re an angel! Oh ...and if you come across anyone called Turaine, give them a wide berth.’

‘Turaine?’ Tessa croaked. ‘Guy. He’s a swine,’ her mother said succinctly. ‘Smiles like a cherub but he’s the devil himself. He’ll want the cottages, Tess. Don’t let him have them. They’re yours. Understand? You must not sell to him.’

‘Oh, glory!’ Her mind creaked into working order. ‘Why shouldn’t I sell them to him-?’

A screech cut her off. ‘Don’t! Never, ever, ever!’

‘OK, OK!’ She was shaken by her mother’s vehemence. ‘What do you know about him?’

Her mother snorted. ‘A lot. He came to bully me. Beware of him. He’s greedy, vicious and vindictive, and he wants to hurt me. Remember, you don’t know where I am. Your father and I won’t be here anyway-we’re going away for a holiday together-so don’t bother to ring or write. I’ve no idea where we’ll be.’

‘But surely-’

‘Must go. Au revoir, darling. Hold the fort. Yes?’

‘Mother-’ There was a click. The line went dead and Tessa was left holding the receiver in stunned silence. Thoughtfully, she replaced it, feeling a mixture of anger, exasperation and relief. She’d had dozens of questions to ask her mother and hadn’t got a word in edgeways. It annoyed her that she’d been left holding the baby! It seemed she would be stuck here for a while, landed with three cottages she didn’t really want. And perhaps with creditors banging on the door. They wouldn’t be too happy when they found someone else owned the cottages. Why couldn’t her mother have warned her?

Still, her parents were together. She’d dreaded telling her father that there would be no reunion for him. He must be ecstatic. And, Tessa mused, her worries about her mother’s well-being had been groundless. That, too, was a weight off her mind.

It was Guy de Turaine who presented the problem. Two-faced and apparently ruthless! Well, she’d had an intimation of that when he’d left last night, putting Giselle to the back of his mind and quite boldly making a pass. But what had caused such hatred on her mother’s part? And Guy’s vindictiveness? He’d seemed so kind... ‘Smiles like a cherub but he’s the devil himself.’ Some indictment!

She must be on her guard. Her initial instincts had been right. He was a secretive type. Two-faced. Her eyes narrowed. Maybe he’d been nice to her because he thought she was a push-over for any good-looking man and, she thought angrily, no doubt he had reckoned on softening her up and buying the cottages at a knockdown price.

No problem. She intended to avoid him like the plague. All she had to do was to sit tight, give Guy the cold shoulder and wait for her mother to contact her again and explain what on earth was going on.

She shivered. The ‘room was chilly and she wore nothing but the oversized T-shirt she’d slept in. The light seemed bright and welcoming outside, and she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to get out of the cold and gloomy house and into the fresh air.

Carefully she groped for the door, cursing her pathetic inability to focus on anything further away than a foot or so. The moment she opened it she felt as if she’d stepped into a warm bath. Her head lifted up to the fuzzy blob of yellow sun and she closed her eyes to let the heat sink into her body. The sound of birdsong

assailed her ears and perfumes drifted tantalisingly past her nostrils.

‘Oh, bliss! Darkness into light!’ And her spirits lifted in response. She would make the best of it and enjoy the day, before considering the problems ahead of her.

On an impulse she went outside, her eyes peering myopically at the ground in case she stepped on anything sharp or foul. A narrow brick path, warm on her bare feet, led down to a patch of grass, and once there she identified-more by feel than anything else-a hammock, slung underneath a tree.

‘This is the life!’ she murmured fervently, hoicking up her long bare legs and spread-eagling her body in the hammock in a hedonistic attitude of total supplication to the warm air.

‘You took your time.’

‘Guy!’ Tessa shrieked in surprise.

Confounded, she grabbed the sides of the hammock and found herself hanging beneath it with her face a foot from the ground, like, she imagined in horror, a demented bat. Then the canvas gradually slipped out of her grasp and she dropped flat onto her stomach. Winded, she lay there for a second or two, breathing heavily, cursing fate and men who sprang surprises on her.

‘That’s a novel trick,’ came Guy’s interested tones. ‘Want any help?’

‘No!’ She’d murder him! When she got up. If she got up. ‘How...

how-did-you-get in?’ she gasped furiously, wondering if she’d done any lasting damage to her ribs and if she dared move yet.

‘Through the side gate.’ Guy said smugly. ‘I knew you’d be tempted out into the sunshine eventually.’

She lifted her head a little and peered. ‘I can’t see a gate.’

‘In the fence at the end ...’ He chuckled as she narrowed her eyes and tried vainly to focus. ‘You can’t see the gate, can you?’ he said in amusement.

‘I can barely see the fence!’ she muttered crossly.

A hand-or so she thought-waved in front of her face and she blinked dozily. ‘Quite helpless! How appealing,’ he mused, in a beautiful, satiny drawl. ‘Conjures up all sorts of amusing possibilities.’

Tessa ground her teeth, feeling very vulnerable. ‘It’s not very amusing when you keep bumping into things,’ she said ruefully, raising herself on her elbows. ‘I get through a fair amount of plasters. I’m leaving my toes to science.’ His laugh warmed her through and through. Why did he sound so nice, she thought irritably, when her mother had pronounced him a swine? ‘I’m sure science will be thrilled. They’re very cute little toes,’ he said gravely. She moved back so that the disconcerting exhalations of his breath wouldn’t have such a devastating effect on her. ‘By the way,’ he went on, in an intimate whisper, ‘I hesitate to draw attention to the fact, but your cheeks will go pink in the sun if you don’t cover them up. Though I’m game for applying protective cream if you like.’

Tessa tensed every muscle in her body. And cautiously, scarlet from head to toe and horribly aware now of the warm sun on the lower part of her buttocks, she eased down the rucked-up folds of her long T-shirt. She wanted to scream. She’d exposed herself in all waysher over-eager hormones, her ludicrous falling about, and now intimate parts of her anatomy. Not very helpful to her sense of dignity.

‘Go away!’ she growled fiercely in his general direction. ‘And stop laughing! It’s not funny!’

‘Yes, it is!’ he chuckled, almost helpless with laughter. Her mouth wobbled. She might have cried because she felt close to tears, or hurled handfuls of turf at him because she felt so angry with herself. Her sense o humour decided for her.

‘OK! It is!’ she agreed, opting to let her rueful giggles out after all. It wasn’t hard to laugh at herself. Coupled with diverting repartee, that had been the only way to hold her own in the past. At least if he was laughing at her then he’d find it hard to switch the mood to something more sensual. ‘I’m practising for pantomime, if you want to know!’

‘You have the job,’ he told her with mock gravity. ‘Sleeping Beauty, is it?’

Hardly, she thought, hoping her scathing glance had hit its mark, because his face was something of a dark blur, interrupted by two brightly glowing eyes. As far as she could remember, Sleeping Beauty had never worn a cheap T-shirt or sprawled on her stomach with her half-naked rear in the air. And the thought of the prince kissing her awake made her skin instantly shiver.

‘I know my place. I thought I’d try for the back end of the cow in Jack and the Beanstalk,’ she retorted, squinting at him. If only she could see!

‘I think a law has been passed preventing beautiful women from taking that part,’ he observed solemnly.

Very smooth. A lovely compliment. What a charmer! She thought. And she could come up with no witty reply that wouldn’t invite his protestation that yes, she was beautiful. The last thing she wanted was to hear lies.

‘I’ll let you try my contact lenses. I think you could do with some assistance to reach the dizzy heights of twenty-twenty vision,’ she said drily. ‘Now, would you mind moving back so I can get up?’ she asked, her expression as cool as it could be under the circumstances.

‘I think you need a hand,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Again.’

‘I have all the hands I want, thanks,’ she said with prim dignity. ‘If you want to be useful, you could go up to the bedroom and find the little grey case by the bed. My contact lenses are in there.’

‘All right, blue eyes,’ he answered amiably, with a wicked gleam in his own, enviably sable velvety eyes, so close to hers that she could actually see their sparkle. ‘Any particular colour today?’ he husked, almost into her mouth. ‘Green,’ she said promptly, not at all fazed that he’d noticed her natural eye colour was a dreary forget-menot-blue. Tessa waited till she heard his feet on the path, plus a few seconds more. When she thought she could scramble up without Guy around as an audience to see how she managed the woefully wandering T-shirt, she hastily did so, and grabbed the lichen-covered branch of a tree for safety. And wondered how she could get rid of the man. His behaviour was totally untrustworthy.

She wanted to search for the house documents. Heavens-more to the point, she wanted to eat breakfast and shower and dress! Then she’d explore the village and the other cottages, see if the holiday guests were all right and do a bit of shopping and cleaning up...

She heard him approaching and arranged a neutral expression on her face.

‘Contact lenses,’ he said, when he came back. ‘And a tray in case you drop one, so we don’t have to spend the next two hours searching on our hands and knees for... Mmm. Come to think of it, that’s rather a good idea-’

‘No, it’s not! Give them to me!’ she ordered imperiously, searching around hazily for somewhere to sit.

‘Were you thinking of sitting in a patio chair or having another practice roll under the hammock?’ he enquired, interpreting her need and not very successfully concealing a chuckle.