Anne Mather - Forbidden Seductions - His Forbidden Passion / Craving the Forbidden / Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger

‘Don’t play games with me, Cleo,’ he said warningly. ‘You’re not equipped to deal with the fallout.’

Cleo’s lips parted, but she didn’t say anything more. Her face flaming, she turned away, grateful to transfer her attention to less disquieting subjects.

But he was right, she thought. She wasn’t used to provoking anyone, least of all a man who always seemed to bring out the worst—or was it the bitch?—in her.

It was quite a relief to study her surroundings.

Darkly upholstered sofas and chairs stood out in elegant contrast to the backdrop of pale walls and even paler wooden floors.

Long windows, some of them open to admit the delicious breeze off the ocean, boasted filmy drapes that moved seductively in the morning air.

‘We’ll go outside,’ said Dominic after a moment, and Cleo realised he had crossed the room and was now standing by French doors that opened onto a stone terrace.

She followed, as slowly as she dared, taking in the exquisite appointments of the room. Low tables; cut-glass vases filled with flowers; thick candles in chunky silver holders.

There was even a grand piano, its lid lifted, hidden away in one corner of the enormous apartment. And dramatic oil paintings in vivid colours that added their own particular beauty to the walls.

‘You have a beautiful home,’ she said a little stiffly, wanting to restore some semblance of normality, but Dominic’s lips only twisted rather mockingly at her words.

‘It’s not my home,’ he reminded her carelessly, stepping aside to let her pass him. ‘But I’m sure your grandfather is hoping you’ll make it yours.’

Cleo’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re not serious!’

‘What about?’ Dominic ignored her startled expression. ‘I assure you, I do have my own house a couple of miles from here on Pelican Bay.’

‘No—’ Cleo was almost sure he was deliberately misunderstanding her ‘—that’s not what I meant.’

They’d emerged onto the terrace now and Cleo could see where a tumble of pink and white bougainvillea hid the low wall that separated the paved patio from the pool.

She was briefly silenced by the view. By the pool, shimmering invitingly; by the rampant vegetation and flowering trees that surrounded it; by the ever-constant movement of the ocean beyond the rolling dunes.

Aware of Dominic’s silence, she turned to him and said, ‘About my grandfather—he doesn’t really expect me to stay here, does he?’

Dominic shrugged, his compassion reluctantly stirred by her obvious confusion. ‘It’s what he wants,’ he said simply. ‘I think he’s hoping to make up for all those years when he didn’t know you.’

Cleo chewed on her lower lip. ‘But why now?’

Dominic sauntered towards a circular table set in the shade of a brown and cream striped canopy. Then, picking up his coffee, he glanced at her over his shoulder. ‘Why do you think?’

Cleo groped for a convincing answer. ‘Because he’s ill?’

‘Because he’s dying,’ Dominic amended flatly. ‘Because he’s been forced to face the fact of his own mortality.’ He paused. ‘According to his lawyer, he’s been looking for you for some time.’

Cleo frowned. ‘And did—did my mother and father know this?’

‘The Novaks?’ Dominic shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t think so.’

He raised his cup to his lips and swallowed the remainder of his coffee, his dark head tilted back, the brown column of his throat moving rhythmically.

Cleo was unwillingly fascinated, but she managed to drag her eyes away and say, ‘So—he waited until they were dead?’

Dominic lowered his cup to its saucer and regarded her resignedly. ‘What are you saying? You think the old man had something to do with their deaths?’

‘Heavens, no.’ Cleo was horrified. ‘They died in a train crash, you know that.’ She hesitated, and then went on a little emotionally, ‘They’d been to visit some friends who’d relocated to North Wales and were on their way back. Apparently the train became derailed at a crossing. It was an accident. A terrible accident.’ Her voice broke then. ‘I miss them so much.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

The sympathy in Dominic’s voice was almost her undoing, but she managed to hold herself together.

Dominic, meanwhile, was having a hard time controlling the urge he had to comfort her. But he hadn’t forgotten what happened when he touched her. How uncontrollable his own reaction could be.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, unaware of his agitation, ‘your aunt said that was when—when he decided to contact me.’

‘Yeah.’ Dominic sucked in a breath. ‘He’d known the Novaks wouldn’t take kindly to any intervention from him. But after—well, after the funeral, he had a firm of in vestigators find out all about you.’

‘But how did he know about the train crash?’

‘Again, according to his lawyer, he’d already traced the Novaks to Islington. It wasn’t until after the funeral he discovered that you weren’t living with them.’

Cleo frowned. ‘I moved out a couple of years ago, when Mom and Dad went to live with Mrs Chapman. I was just finishing college and I’d got the job at St Augustine’s, so I didn’t want to move away.’

‘So you decided to share an apartment with a friend?’

‘More or less.’

Dominic realised she was unaware of it, but this was the first time she’d been totally relaxed with him.

And he was enjoying her company far too much.

Nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was possibly her only ally here. His grandfather had his own agenda, no doubt, but both Serena and his mother resented her. That went without saying.

And her vulnerability stirred him in a way he’d never felt before. In her simple T-shirt and shorts, her dark hair caught up in a ponytail, she looked so young and—dammit, innocent.

He scowled. He had to stop feeling responsible for her, he told himself. The old man wouldn’t like it; wouldn’t like the idea that she depended on Dominic and not himself.

But it was that sense of responsibility that had made Dominic accept his grandfather’s invitation to stay the night at Magnolia Hill. Despite the fact that Sarah Cordy, his current girlfriend, had made him promise to go and see her as soon as he got back…

‘Norah—that’s the girl I live with,’ Cleo was saying now, completely unaware of his frustration, ‘she was finding the rent of the apartment too much for just one person, so she offered me the chance to share.’ She smiled disarmingly. ‘I jumped at it.’

‘And Eric? Where does he fit in?’

Dominic heard the words leave his lips with a feeling of incredulity. Dammit, whoever Eric was, it was nothing to do with him. But it was too late to take them back now.

‘Eric?’ Cleo’s lips rounded. ‘Oh, yes, you met Eric, didn’t you?’ A teasing smile tilted her mouth. ‘Did he scare you?’

‘Are you kidding me?’

Dominic had answered without thinking, but now he realised she’d just been baiting him.

‘Oh, yeah, very clever,’ he grunted. ‘The guy really had me quaking at the knees.’

‘And they’re such nice knees, aren’t they?’ Cleo giggled, stepping back to get a better look. ‘Mmm, you definitely wouldn’t win any knobbly-knees contest.’

‘Any what?’ he was demanding, advancing on her half threateningly, when they both became aware that they were no longer alone.

His mother was standing at the far side of the terrace, amazingly holding the tray that contained Cleo’s breakfast in her hands.

Her blue eyes were glacial as they rested on Cleo’s flushed face. Then warmed slightly when they moved to her son.

‘Am I interrupting?’ she asked, indicating the tray. ‘I intercepted Susie in the foyer and she said you’d asked for this, Dominic.’ Her smile was thin. ‘I thought you’d already had breakfast.’