Mistress of Deception

And out of it, you lying, treacherous bitch, he thought savagely as he shot the car inside, crunching to a halt beside the front porch. Not a trace of guilt all morning, he noted bitterly. But that was only to be expected. She had no conscience. None at all. She'd been frustrated by the events of the week and had taken the first opportunity to have her insatiable needs satisfied, turning to one of her old flames, someone who would know exactly the sort of wild lovemaking she liked.

The thought of what had gone on in that hotel room last night reinforced his dark resolve to carry through with his revenge. Women like her had to be punished. They could not be allowed to toy with a decent man's feelings. She thought she had his measure, did she? She thought she could marry him, take his money and his love, then sneak around behind his back, screwing whomever she pleased.

When he thought of how she'd fooled him with her tears and her protestations of love...

But he would have the last laugh. He'd take the only thing she had to offer a man, take it and take it and take it over the next two days. And when he'd finally sated his lust—for that was all that was left of his feelings—then he would toss her aside like the disgustingly used creature she was.

'There's your mother coming out to meet us,' Ebony was saying.

Deirdre Carstairs had eagerly awaited their arrival, and, hearing Alan's car on the gravel, had dashed out of the front door.

Ebony opened the car door and jumped out to meet her. They hugged each other delightedly.

'Ebony! Darling!' Deirdre gushed, and held her away to look at her with love and satisfaction. 'Oh, I'm so happy. You and Alan! Who would have be- lieved it? You did say you wanted a large family, didn't you?' she went on exuberantly while Alan busied himself taking Ebony's overnight bag from the boot.

'Alan,' she called over to him. 'Ebony hasn't a ring yet. Oh, and we should have an engagement party. Yes, that's what we should do. Vicki can help me. She's good at throwing parties. You can leave the ring till then, I suppose.'

'Thank you for your kind permission,' Alan said curtly, guilt assailing him at his mother having to be hurt by all this. He'd been premature in telling her about his new relationship with Ebony. Premature and bloody stupid. All he could do now was try to minimise future hurts and embarrassments.

'Would you be offended if I begged off the engagement party for a while?' he said on joining them on the front doorstep. 'Ebony and I have only just discovered each other, so to speak, and we'd like some more time to ourselves. You must realise she's a celebrity in this city. Her engagement to her guardian would make good copy for the tabloids, and maybe not all of it so good. You get my drift?'

Deirdre frowned. 'I hadn't thought of that. But you're right. They could put a nasty slant on it.'

'You haven't mentioned anything to Vicki as yet, have you?'

'No, I haven't heard hide nor hair of my darling daughter since she scooted out of here last Sunday.'

'Then don't. I'll tell her myself, eventually. OK?'

'I suppose so,' his mother sighed, then shrugged. 'Well, come on inside. Bob's packed a special picnic basket for you to take on the boat. Nothing's too much trouble for his "Mr Alan". And before you ask me if I've told him about you two, then the answer is yes. I'll just have to swear him and Bill to secrecy.'

'I'm not so worried about Bob and Bill,' Alan muttered. "They aren't big- mouths like Vicki.'

'Speaking of Vicki,' Ebony piped up once they'd moved inside, 'did she patch things up with her boyfriend?'

Deirdre threw her an astonished glance. 'Didn't Alan tell you? He gave Alistair a job in the main factory as assistant to one of the designers—a day shift, of course—so that Vicki's problem was miraculously solved. Wasn't that sweet of him?'

Alan retreated from the admiration in those black eyes as they turned towards him. He didn't want Ebony to admire him. Certainly not today.

'Your son pretends to be tough, Mrs Carstairs,' she said warmly, 'but he's a real softie, do you know that?' She reached out to lay a tender hand on his forearm.

Alan felt an electric shiver run right through him. Damn her, he thought. Only a light touch and a melting look, and his desire for revenge was weakening. She was like a drug, all of her. Not just her sexuality, but her whole personality. God, but he still loved her despite everything. Still loved and wanted her.