So he had not made love to Angela this afternoon, Josie realised. But it did not make her feel any better. He was in complete control and she was still deathly afraid of her own turbulent emotions. Pulling herself up to a sitting position, she dragged the sheet over her breasts, her hand tangling in the fabric.
‘No,’ she murmured in denial. Glancing up at him, she saw that his dark eyes fixed on her held no warmth, no passion, only a kind of clinical determination to discover what lay beneath the surface of her mind. Her anger rose at his impersonal inspection. While she had been reduced to an aching mass of frustration, Conan had no such problem; he was once more his cool, enigmatic self.
‘Liar,’ he said flatly, his eyes sweeping down to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheet, and back to her face.
Why was she even bothering to try and explain to him? she asked herself, scarlet with embarrassment and anger, his sexual arrogance infuriating her even more.
‘Believe what you like—frustration, lust; take your pick; I don’t care,’ she said bluntly. She just wanted him to get dressed and go. Go, before she gave in to the temptation to fling her arms around him and haul him down beside her again.
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ Casually he pulled on his trousers and stared down at her, studying the violet eyes that looked too big for the small oval of her face, the love-swollen lips. ‘Charles still haunts you, I think.’ His cold eyes slid assessingly over her slight form. ‘Amazing—’ he shook his dark head ‘—how a beautiful, intelligent woman can be so tricked by a man and the myth of love.’
‘Thanks very much.’ Josie did not need Conan to tell her that. She had realised it for herself this afternoon. But months too late.
CHAPTER FIVE
CONAN chuckled, a humourless sound, and, fastening the zip of his trousers, he glanced back down at her. ‘Surely you don’t imagine for a moment that Charles would have remained celibate and grieved over you if the position had been reversed?’
‘That’s a rotten thing to say,’ Josie shot back. Conan would not listen to her, would not let her explain her flash of fear. So let the swine think what he liked. If he thought she still loved Charles all the better. At least Charles had said he loved her. Conan had made no such pretence.
‘Rotten but true,’ Conan drawled cynically. ‘You didn’t know him at all, Josie. He didn’t care a damn about you. I’d hazard a guess the first time he asked you out was the first time we met, simply because he saw I was interested.’
‘No,’ Josie denied automatically. But Conan was right; how had he known?
‘Charles was always like that, even as a boy. Anything I had or showed the slightest interest in he took or destroyed. The irony of it was, when I was younger I actually looked up to him, but I soon learned. He took my toys, my first girlfriend, and eventually my heritage.’
‘No, I don’t believe you. Charles wasn’t like that.’ It couldn’t be true, but deep down she had a nasty feeling it was. Remembering the church fête, Charles could have introduced her to his half-brother then. But he’d dismissed him as a virtual stranger.
‘Believe what you like. But your knight in shining armour was a louse. He never had the slightest intention of marrying you.’
Josie watched him pull his shirt back on, and had the oddest feeling Conan was enjoying telling her this. Did he want to shame her completely?
‘I forced him to get engaged to you, because I thought it was appropriate under the circumstances.’
‘No. No, Charles asked me. He said he loved me,’ she argued.
‘I’m sure he did, but it was a ploy to get you into his bed, nothing more.’ His chiselled mouth tightened. ‘He always delighted in destroying beautiful things.’
Josie shivered and pulled the sheet up around her chin, an icy dread seeping into her bones as she listened to Conan’s cold explanation of her affair with Charles.
‘He agreed to marry you only when I insisted on telling Father. You know why? Money.’ He answered his own question with blunt cynicism. ‘The estate has been badly managed for years, always in the red, and my dear half-brother never lived on his army salary. I bailed the Major and Charles out over and over again. I only had to mention the quarterly accounts that night and Charles fell in line. It was I who got him to agree to marry you,’ he said callously. ‘Maybe I should have let you find out for yourself what he was truly like. Instead he’s enshrined in your memory like some hero—’
‘He did die a hero,’ Josie cut in defiantly.
One dark brow arched sardonically. ‘Sorry, no, Josie; even that was a sham. My father invented the story to save his pride. It was all handled very discreetly. Why do you think there was nothing in the press, no commanding officer and no great military funeral?’
Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown. The funeral in the local church had been small, but it had never occurred to her to question the speed of it or the lack of publicity surrounding the affair.
‘Charles was actually killed by a landmine, but not on duty. He was out with his commanding officer’s wife at the time. Charles and the lady had taken a Jeep and driven into the countryside for an illicit night of passion. The deserted road they took had not been cleared of landmines and their passion cost them their lives. She had been his mistress for over a year. You probably met her. A redhead. She was at the party the night Charles got engaged to you. As I said, he liked other people’s possessions,’ he told her with a cool smile.
Josie closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at Conan. She knew instinctively he was telling her the truth. Heavens! She had even met the woman. Charles’s mistress! She’d thought at the time they seemed rather close.
Josie had accepted she’d been foolish in her relationship with Charles almost immediately he had gone to Bosnia. Now she cringed in shame at how blind she had been. All the signs had been there for her to see, and she had ignored every one. But at least with Charles she could blame it on drink. With Conan she had no such excuse.
‘Nothing to say, Josie? No jumping to Charles’s defence? ’ Conan demanded dryly.
‘Yes,’ she started to argue, but, looking up at the hard, ruthless planes of his face, she thought better of it. ‘No, I think you’ve said it all,’ she managed to answer steadily.
‘Very well.’ With a dismissive shrug of his broad shoulder he added, ‘I’ll wish you goodnight.’ He walked out.