Savage Courtship

When he had taken her back to the table, propelling her blind progress with an iron hand in the middle of her back, Richard had instantly been concerned.

‘Vanessa? What is it? You look as white as a sheet!’

‘I feel ill,’ Vanessa had replied thickly, her dark eyes unconsciously pleading. ‘I want to go home.’

‘Of course; let me get the bill—’ Richard had risen to his feet, extending an anxious hand only to find her moved firmly beyond his grasp.

‘No need to rush, Wells. I’ll take her home with me. No sense in your making an unnecessary trip. Say goodnight to Richard, Vanessa.’

Even through the veil of her shock Vanessa had sensed the deep satisfaction in the man beside her as he began to draw her away from the table. He was enjoying thwarting all Richard’s expectations of a romantic end to the evening.

‘Goodnight, Richard,’ she’d repeated mechanically.

A scandal has wings... Vulture’s wings. She could feel them beating over her defenceless head.

Only when they’d reached the BMW parked on the gravel by some huge pohutukawa trees did Vanessa summon the presence of mind to protest. ‘I had a coat—’

‘We’ll pick it up some other time. They’ll keep it safe. Here, take this if you’re cold.’ He shouldered out of his white jacket, placing it around her trembling shoulders, enveloping her in his warmth and male scent. He opened the door and tucked her fluid skirt over her thighs when it slipped sideways as she swung her legs inside.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked as he got in beside her and switched on the headlights.

‘Yes,’ she clipped, looking through the front windscreen at the way the lights were blurred by the faint mist that was drifting in from the Firth of Thames.

He swore under his breath. ‘Damn it, stop looking like that. If he really means that much to you I’ll take you back inside!’

The rawness in his tone pierced her numbness.

‘Who?’ She turned her head. His white shirt shimmered in dimness, the dark tie a slash across his throat; what she could see of his expression was tight and angry.

He gave a coldly exultant laugh at her blank puzzlement. ‘No, he doesn’t, does he?’

He leaned closer to her, so that she could see the fierce glitter in his eyes. ‘What is it you’re thinking about, then, Vanessa? Where’s all that glorious fight gone? What are you hiding? Or should I say, what is it you’re hiding from?’

That jolted her. Fight? Dear God, she was just beginning to realise how weaponless she was where he was concerned. ‘I don’t know what you’re—’

‘Don’t! Don’t lie to me!’ he cut across her sharply. ‘I’ve had enough of it. You know, I always wondered what it was that made you bury your personality under all those layers of stifling pseudo-obedience...”Yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full, sir.” And don’t hand me that crap about being content with your job. Maybe you were once, but since the judge died you’ve enjoyed ruling the roost here by yourself too long and too much to relinquish your independence easily to me or to anyone else. I think you’re only just beginning to discover your potential. You want something more out of life, but for some reason you’re too afraid to reach out and take it—’

She felt too battered to fend off his quiver of questions; she could only stonewall. ‘Not everyone has your single-minded ambition—’

‘Had,’ he corrected ominously. ‘You’ll be pleased to note I’m rapidly diversifying my interests. At least I look to the future rather than the past for my solutions. That’s why you prefer to steep yourself in history, because it’s safe, isn’t it, Vanessa? No surprises. History can’t hurt you. Only what happens in the present can do that.’

She gave a short, painful laugh. What was in the past could very well hurt you, haunt you; she was living proof of the fact.

Her hand crept to her throat, pressing there to halt the rise of burning bile.

A scandal has wings... How aptly that described the way that lies flew from lip to lip, like the innocent childish whispering game, where the distortion of the original message as it progressed further from the source resulted in great amusement. Except that there had been nothing innocent or amusi

ng in the vicious distortions spread about Vanessa. They had had a very serious intent—to destroy her reputation and undermine her credibility.

Unexpectedly his voice gentled. ‘I’m sorry if I frightened you with that stupid threat. You must know that it was only my anger talking. I would never betray you like that. I don’t want a scandal any more than you do; I enjoy my privacy too much. You can tell me anything...anything at all. I won’t be shocked...’

She almost responded to that soft, enticing invitation, almost weakened, almost trusted him, but then she looked into his eyes, saw the ruthless curiosity there, and instinctively shrank from it. For a moment, in his place, she saw other hungry eyes, avid for her version of ‘the truth’, promising justice but delivering whatever served them best.

‘I won’t be shocked’. No, given his worldly sophistication he probably wouldn’t be, but the sordid little story still had the power to shock Vanessa, to make her feel again that writhing self-contempt and crippling sense of vulnerability.

‘I feel ill,’ she said through stiff lips.

‘Vanessa—’