Scandals and Secrets

'It's all right, Cora. I'll do it. I'll be down shortly to have a nightcap. You go to bed.'

'OK. The movie was pretty awful, by the way. Goodnight, then.'

'Goodnight. '

Celeste closed her eyes with a relieved sigh, opening them to find Byron looking up at her with that familiar mocking cynicism in his eyes. 'I see you have your housekeeper trained never to come upstairs, or to ask sticky questions. I dare say she's used to you having every Tom, Dick and Harry spend the night.'

'Don't you mean Luke, Gerry and Byron?' she retorted.

Celeste had already made up her mind not to try to defend herself to Byron. It was a waste of time. Neither was she going to let him treat her like dirt, or ride roughshod over her emotions. 'Naturally, I don't have to answer to my housekeeper, Byron. Do you ever answer to yours?'

'I don't have a housekeeper any more, as you very well know.'

'Ah, yes. The gorgeous Melanie flew off with that racing-car driver, didn't she? Is that why you started running around with Catherine? Because your live-in lady found alternative outlets for her needs?'

With a low growl, Byron heaved Celeste from his body and threw himself on to his feet, glaring down at her with fury in his face. 'Just because you have all your employees service you, Celeste, it doesn't mean everyone else does.' He snatched up his trousers and started dragging them on.

'Don't you think you should put your underpants on first?' Celeste suggested sweetly.

Byron told her not so sweetly what he thought of her suggestion, zipping up his trousers so angrily that she winced. He rammed the blue sweater roughly over his head, combing his hair back into place with splayed fingers before sitting down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and sock.

Celeste knelt up behind him, draping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the ear. 'Don't be angry, darling. I don't care what you did with Melanie.'

'I didn't do anything!'

'You must have thought about it. She was very beautiful. '

Celeste felt she had a struck a nerve for he definitely stiffened. 'I have no intention of defending my thoughts. I never touched the woman.'

'Good for you. I'm glad to see you're still as virtuous as ever. When am I going to see you again?'

'Never, if I can help it.'

Her laughter was drily amused. 'Don't be silly, darling. You enjoyed yourself tonight as much as I did. Why, I haven't been this impressed since ... since we were last together.'

'God, don't remind me of that. I've been trying to forget that day for the last twenty-one years.'

'You and me both,' she muttered under her breath, and shrank back on her heels.

Byron turned to stare at her. 'If I didn't know better, I'd think you regretted that day as much as I did.'

'Oh, yes, Byron, I still regret it. Bitterly.'

He seemed surprised. 'You might be more human than I thought you were.' Her smile was ironic, her pleasure warped as she wriggled on to his lap, snaking her arms around his chest and kissing him with tantalizing softness on the mouth. 'I'm very human,' she whispered, and ran her tongue tip over his lips.

His groan thrilled her.

'When am I going to see you again?' she tempted a second time. 'If you don't come to me, I'll come to you. You do know that, don't you?'

'Yes,' he bit out.

'Take me out to dinner tomorrow tonight.'

'You have to be joking! I won't be seen in public with you. I'm not going to make a laughing-stock of myself for the sake of this.'

'For the sake of what?'

'This!' he snarled, and crushed her to him, taking her mouth in a savage kiss that branded his feelings for what they were: lust. Nothing more. They had never been anything more. He knew it and she knew it. But the realization still had the power to bring pain. Celeste pushed him away and scrambled off his lap to stand with her hands on her hips.

'Then to hell with you, Byron Whitmore! I'm not some cheap whore to be visited in the dead of night down some dark alley. Whatever you pretend in public, you're no better than me, are you? You're here and you wanted me as much as, if not more than, I wanted you.'

Byron's mouth twisted his face hardening at her accusation. 'Yes,' he admitted with a healthy dose of bitter remorse. 'But I'm not proud of it.'

'Why not?'

He threw her a disbelieving glance.

'You're a normal man, aren't you?' she taunted. 'Well, a normal man has normal male desires. Surely you're not going to tell me you've only been holding hands with Catherine? No, I didn't think so. Your wife's dead, Byron, which means you're either going to be celibate for the rest of your life, marry again, have one-night stands or come to a sensible arrangement with some co-operative woman. Who better than me? As for the gossip- mongers ... They'll have a field-day for a whole week, but if you don't react they'll forget you and me and move on elsewhere.'