Mistress of Deception

'I wouldn't go that far...'

'I don't mind living with your mother. Really I don't. In fact, it would be good to have a built-in baby-sitter. We could still have weekends away together, and... and... well, quite frankly, Alan, I... I have some other plans as well. For a career.'

Now Alan was frowning at her. 'I thought you said you would happily give up modelling. Oh, my God, you're not thinking of becoming an actress, are you?'

'Heavens, no. I don't want to see another camera ever again. Or a catwalk, for that matter. What I want to do is go back to college and become an infant teacher. I realise you'd have to support me while I did that, Alan, but I'd pay you back. Really I would. Once I was working, I could '

'Stop!' he ground out, both his hands reaching up to rub his temples.

'What's wrong? Are you ill? Are you in pain?'

'I have a feeling I'm going to be in pain for the next fifty years,' he groaned.

Ebony felt bewildered as Alan's hands dropped away to take her firmly by the shoulders. 'I don't want to hear one more word about your paying me back,' he told her sternly. 'For anything. I am a rich man and I love you. Let me bestow my worldly goods on you as the marriage vows say. Let me love you and cherish you as a slightly old-fashioned husband wants to love and cherish his wife.'

Ebony's heart turned over. 'That's what I want too, Alan,' she whispered. 'To be loved and cherished in an old-fashioned way.'

'Good. Now put your head back down here and shut up. I like cuddling with my wife-to-be.'

'I like my husband-to-be cuddling me,' she laughed softly.

With a sigh, she settled back into his arms, listening contentedly to the sound of his heart beating strongly in his chest. Her eyes closed and she felt the love pulsate between them.

'Ebony,' Alan whispered after a while.

'Mmm?'

'I don't really want you to become old-fashioned, you know. I like the

woman you are. I like your rampant sexuality and your '

'My what sexuality?' she broke in, clearly bewildered.

'Rampant.'

She lifted her head to look up at him, but her hair fell into her eyes. Moving to straddle him, she sat up, pushing the tangled strands back from her face and shoulders with unconsciously sensual movements. 'What does rampant mean?'

Alan's breath caught in his throat when she bent forward to kiss him lightly on the mouth, her erect nipples brushing his chest.

'Is it good or bad?' she asked with the most arousing ingenuousness.

'Good,' he rasped.

'But what does it mean?

'I'll tell you afterwards,' he growled, and, splaying both his hands up into her hair, he pulled her mouth down hard on to his.

Deirdre Carstairs was stretched out on the cane lounger in the sun-room, browsing through the Sunday papers and having a late, leisurely brunch when she saw Alan and Ebony making their way, hand in hand, up the back steps and across the terrace. The sun was just setting, throwing a warm glow over their dark heads. They stopped once to kiss lightly, smiling their happiness at each other.

Deirdre's heart swelled with joy and wonderment. She could not have chosen a more perfect spouse for her son. God had been very good to her the day that he'd directed Ebony into their household. As a mother, she'd been so afraid Alan would never get married and have children, that she would never have grandchildren. But one look at those two together confirmed her suspicion that it wouldn't be long before there was the patter of little feet around these empty old rooms.

Suddenly, she noticed that Ebony was limping slightly. Rising, Deirdre hurried to meet them just as they were coming through the French doors.

'Ebony, dear, have you hurt yourself?' she asked straight away.

'Just a small cut on her foot, Mother,' Alan reassured. 'She's fine, aren't

you, darling?'

Deirdre just stopped herself from staring at her son. He just wasn't the type to call anyone 'darling'. It just showed how much in love he was. 'You had a nice relaxing weekend, then?'

'Very relaxing,' Ebony said, and flashed Alan an incredibly sexy smile.

Deirdre beamed with satisfaction. This beautiful young thing was just what the doctor ordered for Alan. He'd been in danger of turning into somewhat of a stuffed shirt before she had burst back into his life. His claim that she'd shamelessly seduced him on the night of her twenty-first was probably a blatant exaggeration. Deirdre suspected Alan was a bit of a prude where sex was concerned. That Adrianna he'd got mixed up with had been a bit of a cold fish. Ebony was completely the opposite. There again, French girls were notorious for their sensuality.