The Seduction Scheme

‘I’d noticed,’ he said with a savage inflection. ‘I’m sure your Gallic charmer did—bilingually, probably—and look where that got you. At the end of the day actions speak louder than words; words are ten-a-penny.’

‘When you say them I’m sure that’s true.’

‘You mean I wouldn’t have been welcomed back to bed if I’d sworn undying love?’ he asked incredulously. He gave a strange twisted smile as though the black humour in his eyes was aimed at himself.

‘I’m not that gullible.’ To hear him joking about something about which she’d nursed improbable fantasies cut deep.

‘Just as well I didn’t waste my breath, then, isn’t it? It obviously hasn’t occurred to you, but if you were a man kicking his partner out with indecent haste at five a.m. it would be a different story.’

‘I don’t believe this! Are you implying I’m using you?’ She gasped incredulously at this novel interpretation of the situation.

‘Weren’t you?’

‘My motivation didn’t seem to bother you much last night.’

‘I wanted you.’ The raw confession made her body sway like a sapling struck by an unexpected gust of wind. Her nerves were vibrating like over-stretched violin strings. ‘I wasn’t in a position to make conditions last night.’

‘And you think you are now? This is my home, Ben, and I decide who stays and who leaves. I’m not trying to pretend last night didn’t happen…’ She wished he’d fasten his shirt; it was making a difficult situation even more trying to be faced with the expanse of golden-tanned skin.

‘Really?’

‘We should learn from our mistakes.’

‘What a healthy, well-balanced attitude.’

‘And I can do without your snide remarks,’ she hissed, hot-faced.

‘Sorry,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘Tell me, what have you learnt from our…mistake? Or are you just clearing the decks for lover boy—off with the new, on with the old? Are you really so sure he’s still the right fit for you, Rachel? You might discover you’ve done some growing.’

‘I’m not trying to deny I find you physically attractive.’

‘Pity; I could do with a good laugh.’

She refused to be sidetracked by his biting sarcasm. ‘There’s never been any question of anything more.’ He’d said as much by omission himself. ‘The future doesn’t really come into the equation when we both know you’re only here for a matter of weeks. You were right…’

‘There’s a first time for everything.’

She gave a dignified sniff. ‘When you said I’m not mistress material.’

‘You think he’ll leave his wife for you, because of Charlie? Grow up, Rachel; if having children meant more to him than her he’d have deserted her years ago. His sort always go back to the wife.’

‘For God’s sake,’ she snapped, ‘I’m not talking about being Christophe’s mistress, I’m talking about being yours!’

He froze, and she had the fleeting impression he was biting back his instinctive response. When he spoke it was very slowly and precisely.

‘I don’t recall asking you.’ Eyes narrowed, he rocked on the balls of his feet and stood waiting for the inevitable explosion.

She gave a gasp of anger. Of all the smug, arrogant, self-satisfied rats! ‘There’s no point in trying to be civilised with you, is there? Get out!’ she yelled. ‘Now!’ Mistress was too formal a commitment for him! He thinks he can have me whenever he wants, and I haven’t done much to discourage his theory so far, she thought bitterly.

Her anger seemed to have lifted his spirits; he grinned at her with every sign of pleasure. ‘Are you going to throw that?’ he enquired with interest, nodding at the hairbrush she was waving to emphasise her point.

‘If I’m going to throw anything it will have a sharper edge than this.’

Still grinning, he shrugged on his jacket without bothering to fasten his shirt. The picture it presented was somehow decadent and erotic. Let’s face it, girl, you’d find Ben Arden in a bin sack a turn-on; it’s pathetic, simply pathetic, she told herself.

‘For a woman who doesn’t want to disturb the child you’ve turned the tiniest bit shrill.’

‘You’ve not heard anything yet,’ she promised grimly.

‘Relax; I wouldn’t dream of staying where I’m not welcome.’

‘You finally got the message.’

‘Put it down to the conflicting signals,’ he said drily. Hand on the door handle, he turned back. ‘Believe me, darling, it’s your loss—I’m a morning man.’