The Threat of Love

'Oh, come off it! It's obvious he's still under your skin!'

That made her even angrier, and she burst out, 'Under my skin? You must be joking! Can't you see how humiliating it was... finding out how I'd been cheated? He made me believe he loved me, but he was laughing at me behind my back. He pretended to think I was pretty, and I let him fool me into believing it, even though my mirror told me I was crazy—and all the time he was sneaking off to see another girl, and she really was pretty! He didn't have to lie to her. She wasn't a rich man's daughter; he was genuinely attracted to her. With me he was just lying. I felt sick when I knew—I can never forget the humiliation, but that isn't because I still care about Damian, it's because he made me face the fact that the only reason a man was showing interest in me was because of my father's money.'

She stopped speaking, taking an appalled breath, suddenly realising what she was saying, who she was saying it to! She had told Gil Martell what she had never told another living soul, what she had thought she would never be able to confide to anyone—the depth and bitterness of her humiliation over her betrayal by Damian. She looked down, face first crimson then white, biting her lip and wishing she was dead. Why on earth had she let all that spill out of her? And to him, of all people, the last man in the world she wanted to know how much of a fool she had been!

Tears began trickling down her cheek; she had to choke back a sob trying to force its way out of her.

'Don't,' Gil said harshly, and then both his arms went round her, pulling her closer; he put a hand on the back of her head, pushing it down on to his chest, and began gently to stroke her hair. She lay against him, trembling, her eyes closed, beginning to calm as the comforting caress of his fingers continued.

His human warmth soaked into her, permeating her entire body until she was able to relax completely in his arms, giving herself up to a deep contentment. It was a sensation she had never felt with Damian; she had been feverish and unsure whenever she was with him, so perhaps her instincts had warned her, even though she hadn't listened to them. Her instincts now told her to trust Gil, whispered that she was safe with him...

She started as a strange bleeping noise began somewhere close by—what on earth was that? She thought for a second she was imagining it, hearing things, but then Gil gave an exasperated sigh, his arms dropping away from her. He sat up, and Caro lay back against her seat, reluctantly opening her eyes to watch Gil reach down to produce a phone from between the front seats of the Rolls. Only as the noise stopped did Caro realise that it was the sound of a car phone.

'Yes?' Gil barked into his receiver, and then his face changed as he listened. 'Oh, hello, Mrs Greybury. Is something wrong?' There was a brief silence, then he exclaimed, 'What?' His brows dragged together, he listened again, his face tightened. 'Oh, did she? Look, tell her I won't be back until tomorrow... Oh, you did?' His long, slim fingers tapped out an angry rhythm on the wheel as he listened again. 'Did she? Won't leave until I get back. I see.' He stared straight ahead, scowling, a dark red in his cheeks, his eyes glittering with temper. 'Right,' he said. 'I'll be back in a few minutes, then.'

He replaced the phone with a slam that made Caro jump. 'I'm sorry,' he said curtly to her. 'I have to get back to my flat at once.'

'An unexpected visitor?' Caro swallowed a jealousy which tasted like poison.

'You were listening?'

She didn't like the ice in his voice and snapped back, 'I could hardly help overhearing you! I didn't exactly eavesdrop outside the door.'

'OK, OK,' he muttered. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snarl. My temper snapped.'

'I noticed,' she said coldly.

He laughed as the car began to move away. 'Your tongue will get you into trouble one of these days!'

She watched his long hands manipulate the wheel, feeling weak with desire. Why did he make her feel this way? She had never wanted anything so much in her life before. Oh, why did he have to be involved with another woman? Was every man she ever met going to prefer someone else? Was that her doom? Life was very unfair.

'It's the Countess, isn't it?' she asked, then wanted to kick herself for such a stupid question. Who else could it be? Trying to hide how much it hurt her, she spoke lightly, mockingly. 'Has she left her husband again? It's getting to be a habit; why doesn't she make up her mind?'

'She has, it seems,' Gil said. 'My housekeeper says Miranda has moved in, with a mound of luggage. In fact, she has started to unpack.'

Caro felt sick. 'Congratulations!' she managed, forcing an over-bright smile.

'Don't be funny,' Gil muttered. 'And stop talking to me. I'm trying desperately to think of a way to get rid of her before Colin arrives, but Miranda isn't easy to talk round. She only sees things from her own point of view. Totally spoilt and totally selfish, and a brain the size of a flea into the bargain—you can't talk sense to a woman like that. She only understands flattery or flirtation, and I'm in no mood to try either.'

Caro sat upright, tense and still, and watched his hard profile intently. He wasn't talking like a man in love; his voice was impatient, irritated, his face matched his tone. Was this what he really felt, or was he pretending?

'You must have given her the idea that you would want her...' she began, and Gil groaned, raking a hand through his dark hair.

'Oh, maybe, a few compliments, a little game of flirtation at a party; women like Miranda expect it, but there was never anything between us, nothing serious, nothing

that meant anything- ' He broke off, frowning darkly.

'Except that...'

'That she took it seriously, even if you didn't?' guessed Caro, her mouth twisting.

'Women always do,' he said with weary cynicism. 'Their vanity makes them think you're crazy over them. They want it to be the real thing, every time. Love with a capital L. They like it to be forever, not just fun.'

Caro felt a flare of rage so intense she wanted to hit him. 'You deserve to be landed with the Countess! You talk about her being spoilt and selfish! You could give her lessons.'

He ignored that, pulling up outside his flat, peering out of the car window. 'No sign of Colin's car yet, anyway. That gives me time to get Miranda out of there— if only I can think of the way to convince her she must go...'

'I ought to walk away and leave you to it,' Caro bought aloud, hating him. T shouldn't help you get out Of it.'