Laura Martin - Living With The Enemy

‘Civilised!’

A dark brow rose in query. ‘You don’t like my choice of word, Lucy?’

‘I don’t think I like you!’ she snapped. ‘How dare you patronise me like this? Charles would be so angry if he knew you were speaking to me this way!’

‘Charles is not here.’

‘I wish he were! I want to leave!’

The attractive mouth curved, but the smile held little amusement. A slight narrowing of the deep, dark eyes showed disapproval. ‘Because I dare to question your behaviour? ’

‘This isn’t going to work,’ Lucy replied angrily. ‘I can’t stay here with you! It’s a ridiculous idea. I’m going to phone Charles, tell him he has to come and fetch me—’ She twisted sharply and found to her amazement that Alex wasn’t going to let her go.

‘Don’t flounce off like a child!’

She glared up at the handsome face. How could this be happening? A few minutes ago she had actually been concerned for this man’s welfare! ‘I’m not flouncing!’ She gulped a steadying breath. ‘Would you mind letting go of my arm?’ Her voice sounded crisp—so cold that frost was practically dripping off each syllable. Emerald-green eyes clashed with darkest jet, but his hand stayed where it was. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ she asked angrily.

Alex looked at her. ‘I heard.’

She moistened her lips. The tension between them was almost tangible. Alex loomed above her, strong and tanned and full of power. She held herself rigid, waiting for the moment to subside. It didn’t. The tension became more powerful, subtly changing—an electrical tension that didn’t have its roots in anything so straightforward as dislike or hostility.

The strange, almost dangerous silence lengthened. Alex looked down at her. ‘You really are a mixed-up young woman, aren’t you?’ he murmured quietly.

‘Quite different from the usual females you encounter?’

Lucy put unmistakable emphasis on the last word. She had no idea why she said it—no idea at all. Liar! she told herself. Why can’t you admit that what Charles said about Alex Darcy has been on your mind from the first moment you laid eyes on him?

‘For “encounter” I should presumably read “meet in bed”,’ he replied smoothly. There was another tense silence. ‘Has Charles been talking?’ Alex drawled dangerously. ‘Maybe you’re right; maybe he is a terrible old gossip after all. I shall have to have a word with him about it.’

‘He was only trying to reassure me!’ Lucy answered swiftly, suddenly concerned for her stepbrother’s welfare; Alex was big and powerful, whereas Charles was a definite weed. ‘He wasn’t gossiping at all.’

Alex Darcy looked puzzled—as well he might, she thought miserably; she was getting everything into a terrible tangle.

‘Reassure you? What would he need to reassure you about?’

‘Oh...you know!’

‘Actually I don’t; that’s why I’m asking,’ Alex replied with deceptive mildness ‘Care to explain?’

‘Six-foot blondes, with hair the colour of corn!’ Lucy muttered.

‘What?’ He wasn’t angry; in fact he looked vaguely amused.

She tilted her chin and looked up at him. ‘Your regular type of encounter—your women.’

Dark eyes narrowed dangerously. Now he was angry. She had gone too far. Lucy felt a charge of panic.

‘Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?’

‘N-no.’

‘Charles has given you the impression I’m womanmad—’ Alex frowned in noticeable irritation ‘—is that it?’

‘No!’ Lucy put a hand to her head. ‘I don’t know!’ she added almost wildly. ‘I don’t care if you have hundreds of women. It’s none of my business, is it?’

‘No! Damned right, it’s not!’

‘Will you let go of my arm now?’ she asked shakily. ‘I’d...I’d like to go inside.’

‘To do what? Pack?’

‘To phone Charles, to ask him if he’ll come out and fetch me.’

‘You know he’s busy in Geneva. Besides, if you want to leave that badly you can always book a flight out of here yourself. You’re not a prisoner.’

‘I haven’t got enough money!’ Lucy murmured, conscious of the strong fingers still gripping the sleeve of her robe. ‘I’m sure Charles has told you that Paul squandered every penny I had earned and saved before he died!’

The coal-black eyes narrowed perceptively. ‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Oh...’ Lucy bent her head and looked at the ground. ‘Well...he did, and I refused the money Charles offered to tide me over until I can get a job.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Because I don’t like charity, that’s why!’ Lucy flashed. ‘Now if you don’t mind—’

‘What did you do?’

The change of tack disconcerted her for a moment. ‘You mean work?’ she quened. ‘Oh, nothing much. You wouldn’t be interested.’

‘How do you know? Try me.’

She stared down at the ground self-consciously. ‘I...I went to drama school for a while. Then I got work in an office. Nothing very spectacular. I’m not good at anything in particular.’

‘Don’t undersell yourself!’ It was another of what Lucy suspected would turn out to be a long line of rebukes.

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, staring up into Alex Darcy’s face. ‘I’m not underselling myself,’ she replied frostily. ‘Just stating the obvious. Now would you mind letting go of my arm, please? I’d like to go inside to phone Charles.’

‘You are a stubborn young woman; you know that, I presume?’

There was a hint of exasperation in his tone. Lucy looked up into the angular face. ‘It’s been my downfall,’ she asserted quietly. ‘I realise that now.’

‘Well, if you can see that,’ Alex replied, without any signs of sympathy, ‘surely you’ll understand that flouncing out of here after only a few hours is not the most sensible thing to do?’

‘You don’t want me here,’ Lucy murmured. ‘That’s as plain as day. I don’t want to spend time where I’m not wanted.’

‘Now you’re feeling sorry for yourself!’ Alex replied crisply. ‘Always a big mistake.’

‘Like my stay here!’

The long, lean fingers shook Lucy’s arm a little; a mixture of impatience and irritation crossed the handsome face. ‘I can’t deny Charles’s request for help did come out of the blue,’ Alex responded sharply, ‘but I agreed to have you here and I stand by that arrangement.’

Her green eyes narrowed provokingly. ‘You’re regretting it, though, aren’t you?’

His sensuous lips compressed into a firm line and his fingers pulled her closer towards the large, broad frame. ‘Will you stop forcing the point, Lucy? You’re being totally impossible.’ He surveyed her with an irritated gaze. ‘I live a solitary life—always have, always will. I can’t deny that your presence here will take a bit of getting used to, but I’m perfectly capable of being sociable if you’ll act in an appropriate manner.’

She frowned up at him. ‘And what do you mean by that?’

‘If you’ll stop acting like a petulant child!’

‘Maybe I want to act like a petulant child; maybe I always have!’ She didn’t care what he thought of her. She didn’t! For the past few weeks she hadn’t cared about anything much at all. Lucy tried to shake his hand free, but his grip was firm and uncompromising, matching his expression. ‘Will you let go of me?’ she gritted.

‘No.’

She had an overwhelming desire to stamp her bare feet on the dusty ground, to pull and tug herself free and run off sobbing. ‘I want you to!’ she told him wildly.

‘No, you don’t.’ His voice was calm and controlled. ‘Tell me something.’

‘What?’ Lucy tilted her chin and eyed Alex warily. He looked so handsome, so completely male—cool and totally in command.