by Penny Jordan
All day while she had been thinking last night over and forgotten he had known ... He must have been waiting for an opportunity to throw it at her . . . and yet somehow he had missed seeing the truth. That puzzled her, and she frowned a little over it. Of course he had the excuse off believing her to be Gwen initially at least, but she had no such excuse. He had accused her of suffering from sexual frustration. Lindsay shrugged, it was stupid to feel so hurt and bitter because he thought she was an experienced woman I who had had several lovers. Far better that he thought that than guessed the truth. She couldn't! stay here now. But she couldn't leave either, could she? She didn't doubt that he had spoken the truth I about the American contract, and if she walked
out now he would have to make explanations to Don Carter. He would have to book him into an hotel . . . alter all his arrangements. Lindsay sighed. Lucas was quite blatently using emotional blackmail to get his own way, but she couldn't call his bluff ... not if it meant risking the livelihood of other people.
Somehow or other she managed to get through serving dinner. There was one moment of embarrassment during the main course when Don turned to Lucas and praised her lavishly, adding, "You're a very lucky man to have such a lovely wife Lucas. Mind you take good care of her. Wives like yours are pretty hard to come by.' She had forgotten to mention to Lucas that Sam had| mistaken her for Gwen, and now it would be more awkward than ever to put the other man right.
She was in the kitchen making the coffee when Lucas came in. 'What was all that about you being my wife,' he stressed, coming over to where she was standing.
'I think he misunderstood when I introduced myself to him. After all it's a natural enough mistake. No doubt he was expecting to meet Gwen. I didn't want to embarrass him by correcting him in front the taxi driver, it would have meant explaining about your divorce and who I am. I was going mention it to you earlier and ask you to put him straight but . .
'But you didn't,' Lucas supplied sardonically for her 'and telling him now is potentially even more embarrassing. He's going to wonder what the devil is going on, and why I didn't say something.' He frowned. 'We'd better just leave it for now. He's
only staying a couple more days,' he was standing only feet away from her and when he moved quickly towards her grasping her shoulders and pulling her back against the lean solidity of his body, Lindsay went rigid with shock. The warm brush of his mouth against the curve of her throat stunned her into silence, despair and pleasure flooding through her in equal measure. She closed her eyes instinctively and only then became aware of footsteps outside the kitchen door. It opened and Don walked in, grinning when he saw them.
'I've just realised I need to make a call to the States. Would it be all right for me to use your 'phone?'
When Lucas assented and released Lindsay to accompany him, he waved him back with a genial smile. 'No, you folks stay right where you are. It's good to see married folks who are still in love enough to want to snatch kisses in the kitchen.'
Lindsay waited until he had gone to round on Lucas, but he wouldn't let her speak, getting in before her, 'I heard him coming,' he told her grimly, 'and since by your folly you've committed ! us both to this farce that we're married, we might as well give the fiction some substance.'
'There was still no need to ... to touch me,' Lindsay told him stubbornly.
'No need,' Lucas mocked drawling out the words, and lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief. 'My dear Lindsay, on the contrary, I'd say, if I had to give a name to it, that what you exhibited in my arms last night was a very great need indeed.'
He was going before she could react or respond in any way, leaving her shaking with a mixture of
anguish and self-contempt. He had trapped her very neatly, she thought bitterly. He had known that she would never stay within ten miles of him after what had happened last night, so he had deliberately let her believe he didn't remember it— at least until it was too late for her to get away.
But from now on he was going to enjoy taunting her with it ... reminding her of what had happened, and Lindsay didn't know how she was going to endure it.
By the time she went into the drawing room with the coffee Don had finished his 'phone call and was sitting chatting with Lucas.
'I'll leave you two together if you're discussing business,' she said with a smile, glad of the excuse to leave, but as she made to walk past Lucas, his fingers curled round her wrist and he tugged her down beside him on the settee, forcing her to sit so close to him that she could feel the hard muscles of his thigh.
At half-past ten, Don exclaimed that jet lag was getting the better of him and excused himself. Once he had gone Lindsay pulled away from Lucas and went to gather up the coffee cups. 'Out with it,' he commanded, carrying his own over the tray. 'You're practically bursting with rage. 'You always did have a ferocious temper.'
'Did I? No wonder with someone like you to contend with,' Lindsay blazed. 'I don't know what you think you're doing, Lucas.'
'Don't you?' he smiled at her with lazy eyes.
'Perhaps like you I'm suffering from an acute sense of physical frustration.'
She had not thought of that of course. She knew that he was missing Gwen, but it had never
occurred to her that he might . . . that he . . . She swallowed hard and stared at him. 'I don't know what you're suggesting,' she began unevenly . . . only to be interrupted by his cool, 'Oh come on Lindsay, stop play-acting, you know exactly what I'm suggesting,' he told her. The mask of good- humour suddenly dropped from his face as he towered over her, all the bones beneath his skin suddenly compacting making him look exactly what he was, a ruthlessly angry man. 'Did you honestly think you could come into my bed, use me as a substitute for your latest lover, and then calmly push me on one side? Did you Lindsay?'
He seemed to have some sort of obsession about her supposed lovers, Lindsay thought hazily. She had never seen him looking so angry. His grey eyes burned almost black, hot and dangerous. She wanted to protest that he had been the one to start it all, but she lacked the courage.
'It wasn't like that.' Her throat had gone dry, and she licked her lips nervously, quailing under the sudden bitter, twisting of his mouth as he watched the betraying gesture. 'For God's sake don't do that.'
In another man his tone might almost have been described as tortured. This wasn't the Lucas she knew, Lindsay thought shakily. She had never seen him so out of control; so much in the grip of his emotions.
'I won't be used as a substitute for Gwen, Lucas,' she heard herself saying in a high unfamiliar voice.
To her astonishment he laughed, the bouncing back off the walls. 'Oh my God,' he said savagely, 'That's incredible. If only you knew. . .
Don't worry, that's the last thing you're ever likely to be,' he told her cruelly.
The anger suddenly seemed to drain out of him, as he slumped back down into a chair, his face so pale that Lindsay forgot her anger in a surge of protective love. He didn't look well. He wasn't well, she reminded herself, leaving the tray to go over to him and touch him tentatively on his arm. 'Lucas ...'
'Don't do that damn you,' he swore at her, lurching to his feet. 'I'm going to bed, and if you've any sense at all, you won't try joining me tonight Lindsay.' He saw the look of fear cross her face and laughed cynically. 'Oh come on, don't look at me like that. You're no innocent, and I'm sure at least one of your lovers must have taught you that passion can be at it's best when it's laced vcry lightly with anger.'
Her body tingled betrayingly as she forced away an immediate image of Lucas kissing her angrily, anger driving way to fierce need ... to love. To compensate for her moment of weakness, Lindsay turned on him and said coldly, 'I'm afraid we obviously don't share the same tastes, Lucas.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lindsay glanced up from her weeding to look at the study window. Lucas and Don Carter had been in there nearly all morning. Soon it would be time for lunch, but she wasn't sure whether she should disturb them or leave them
alone. As she pondered on what to do, the matter was settled for her when Lucas and the American came walking towards her.
She got up smiling easily, and somehow managing to avoid looking directly at Lucas. Why oh why did her heart have to start thumping so painfully and so betrayingly, just because he was within touching distance?
'I was just wondering what to do about lunch,' she told them both. 'Are you ready to eat nowl or .. .'
'We're ready.'
Lucas sounded so terse that Lindsay wondered if his talks with Don had perhaps not gone very well, but this fear was banished when Don added warmly, 'but tonight you must both let me take you out for dinner. No I insist,' he continued firmly when Lucas would have interrupted. 'It can be a "thank-you" as well as a celebration," turned to beam at Lindsay. 'Your husband and I have just come to some mutually beneficial business agreements, and if you could suggest somewhere reasonably local where I could take you both out to dinner this evening . . .'
'No, please ... you really ...' Lindsay began hesitantly, sensing that Lucas did not want the American to take them out. Probably because he didn't want to be seen with her, she thought bitterly, but all her hesitancy was in vain. Don Carter insisted that he intended to take them out and in the end, it was Lucas, who suggested, in a curt voice that a little known, but very good hotel some fifty miles away might be a suitable venue.
It was after lunch before Lindsay saw Lucas alone. He came into the kitchen while she was loading the dishwasher, frowning angrily.
For some reason his presence in the kitchen disturbed her. For some reason? She mocked her own feeble attempt to deceive herself. She knew exactly why she found him so disturbing, and painful though it was, sooner or later she was going to have to come to terms with the fact that she loved him—come to terms with it and overcome it. She shivered slightly hating herself for her weakness and, in some strange way, angry with Lucas because he was the root cause of it. Her anger manifested itself in a distinct tartness in her voice as she claimed, 'Anyone would think from looking at you that your business negotiations have failed—not succeeded.' Inwardly she was taut with pain; with the knowledge that no matter how successful he might be professionally the fact that he had lost; Gwen outweighed any pleasure he might gain from his business successes. How could knowing how much he loved the other woman and how little he loved her? She would beat it because she must, she told herself drably.
There was no other way. After all she was scarcely first woman in the world to suffer from
unrequited love, and doubtless she was a long way from being the last.
She came out of her sombre thoughts to find Lucas glowering at her. 'In case it's escaped your attention we could have a potentially embarrassing situation on our hands this evening.'
Lindsay stared at him, not really understanding what he meant.
'This meal Don is insistent on us having,' he told her with curt impatience. 'Why do you think I suggested so far away, or have you forgotten already, that Don still believes you're my wife?'
The harsh bitterness in Lucas voice, jolted her into reality. Of course she had forgotten. No wonder Lucas had been so reluctant to let Sam take them out for a meal. If they went anywhere local they'd be bound to be recognised. She bit her Hp, cursing her own lack of foresight.
'Why the hell didn't you try harder to put him off?' Lucas demanded.
'I ...' For some stupid reason tears pricked the back of her eyes. She turned away hoping that Lucas had not seen them. What was the matter with her?
'Oh what the hell,' Lucas muttered tiredly, 'We'll just have to hope that we don't bump into anyone we know, or that if we do, it doesn't come out that Sam believes we're married.'
'It's a natural enough mistake to make,' Lindsay protested, 'and after all we are brother and sister
'Like hell we are.' The savagery in his voice made her shrink back from him, freezing motionless, as he strode out of the kitchen, slamming
the door behind him.
She had never seen Lucas like this before. When she had been a teenager he had been so patient with her. At least until Gwen's arrival into his life, and even then he had treated her with cool indifference, never this hot, almost uncontrollable anger that seemed to have its roots in some inner agony she could only guess at.
The altercation with Lucas left her feeling weak and tensely overwrought. He and Don were still engaged in business discussions and on impulse Lindsay decided she might as well drive into their small local market town. She could have her hair done and browse in the local shops, it might take her mind off all her emotional problems.
She was just about to get into the car when Lucas and Don walked out of the front door.
'We're just going out to the factory for an hour,'Lucas told her, frowning as he realised she too was going out.
'Where are you going?' The question was brusque enough to make Don look rather curiously at him. 'Just into Malden,' Lindsay told him quickly, 'I. . . I've got some shopping to do, and I wanted to call in and see Tom. Tom Henry was her father's solicitor and along with Lucas, her other trustee. She had invented the excuse of going to see him on impulse, not wanting Lucas to read anything into the fact that she was planning to have her hair done. She felt so self conscious about her feelings for him that she was petrified she might somehow betray them, and yet as the dark look crossed his face she knew that she had said the wrong thing. There wasn't time to retract her statement though,
as Lucas was already heading in the direction of his own car.
Why should the fact that she was going to call in and see Tom make him look so angry? she wondered wryly as she started her car. Tom was more of an honorary uncle to her than a mere solicitor, and she always tried to call and see him when she was home.
Half an hour later she was parking her car in the small town square. She had always loved Maiden with its old stone buildings; many dating back to medieval times. In the days when this part of the world had been famous for its wool, Maiden had been a bustling wealthy little town, and these days its inhabitants took great pride in its history. Here and there a Georgian facade mingled with the older Tudor buildings, and it was in one of these tall Georgian fronted buildings that Tom's offices were.
She went to see him first, and was welcomed warmly by his secretary, whom she had known since schooldays.
'Lindsay, my dear, come in and sit down,' Tod Henry smiled affectionately at her. He was genuinely fond of his late client's daughter. He knew of her father's hopes and plans for her, and while he had wisely never interfered, it was his private feeling that he had been wrong to bring Lindsay up in the belief that she owed it to him to marry as he wished. On one or two occasions had attempted very gently to point this out client but the other man had been so stubbornly insistent that he knew what was best for his daughter that Tom had backed down. And yet despite all his stubbornness, Tom knew that
ultimately her father would have wanted whatever gave Lindsay the greatest happiness. It was just unfortunate that his own experience had left him with such an intense need to show the class he thought had rejected him that he was every bit as good as they were. Which of course he had been.
'Tea?' Tom offered his guest, as she sat down. Now that he could see her properly he was worried by the dark shadows haunting her eyes, and the extreme slenderness of her body.
Lindsay accepted his offer, and sat silently while he rang through to ask Mary to bring them some tea.
'Is it business or pleasure that brings you to see me?' he asked at last, when Mary had poured their tea and left them.
'A little of both,' Lindsay admitted, remembering how often as a teenager she had come to Tom with her problems. He had been a good friend to her then, a wise, avuncular figure whom she had sometimes found more approachable than her own father.
'You're too thin,' Tom told her, urging her to take a piece of shortbread, 'and you look tired.'
Lindsay smiled, shrugging aside his concern, 'You know how it is, the pace of li
fe is so hectic these days,'
'Only if you allow it to be,' Tom told her drily, ?You have no need to live and work in London, Lindsay, Your father's will stipulates that you receive a generous income from his estate . . .'
'You mean I could have stayed at home and lived a life of leisure.' She shook her head grimacing faintly. 'Lucas wouldn't have wanted that . . . especially not after he and Gwen married.'
She looked up just in time to catch a rather strange expression crossing Tom's face, and frowned quickly, asking, 'Tom what is it?'
'Nothing . . . nothing at all my dear.' He seemed to be examining his nails rather thoroughly and Lindsay had the feeling that there was something he was not telling her.
'I know that Lucas and Gwen are divorced,' she said hesitantly at last. 'It came as rather a shock, especially as Lucas hadn't let me know ... In fact I had no idea until I came down here that their marriage was over.'
The pain inside her flooded out into her voice, and Tom frowned. 'No doubt Lucas had his reasons.'
'I couldn't believe it when he said Gwen had been the one to ... to be unfaithful to him. She . . . she wanted him so badly I . . . Lucas is missing her dreadfully.'
Again she was surprised by the look that crossed the solicitor's face. 'I suppose you handled the divorce for Lucas,' she added, without knowing quite what had made her ask.