Emma Darcy - Seducing The Enemy

“I’ve never known Barry to not get a woman he went after.”

“That’s a sweeping statement. Perhaps he only went after those who showed they were interested.”

“And you weren’t.”

“Not in a million years,” she asserted with lofty disdain. “And he knew it. Which was why—” She stopped, appalled at almost tripping into a pitfall.

“Why what?” he prompted.

Why he tried to get at me in other ways. “He didn’t like me,” she finished with a careless shrug.

“And why he would have enjoyed flirting with your sister, who did like him.”

“Did she?” Annabel raised sceptical eyebrows. “Or was she merely returning charm for charm in the superficial way a political wife does at such functions?”

“You would know best,” he conceded, but the cynical glint in his eyes telegraphed blatant disbelief in Isabel’s innocence.

Annabel felt compelled to cast doubt on his sureness. “You seem biased towards the view that women in general fell like ninepins to the inviting twinkle in Barry Wolfe’s baby blue eyes. Did he seduce your women away from you?”

“A few times. It was a game to him. And a useful barometer to me.”

“You mean you used him as a test of their interest in you?” The cold-bloodedness of it shocked her.

He laughed. “Hardly that. Barry was older, more sophisticated, more knowing in the ways of women and the world. A flashy sports car, flowers, flattery, fancy places and fun usually won the day. I could have followed his education in this area if I’d wanted to compete with him, but I wanted something different.”

“So he didn’t take anyone who really mattered to you,” she remarked, secretly glad he wasn’t seduced by the superficial.

His thick black lashes swept down, and there was a stillness on his face that gave him a shuttered look. “There was one who mattered,” he said quietly.

“What did you do?” she asked, aware she was treading on a sensitive area yet too curious about his reaction—the character of the man—to let it pass.

His smile was chillingly dismissive. “Nothing.”

Annabel couldn’t believe it. “You just let her go to Barry, knowing him for the philanderer he was?”

He shrugged. “The choice was hers.”

“You didn’t put up a fight to keep her?”

His eyes flashed with steely pride. “I want a woman who knows her own mind, Annabel. I want a woman who wants me. Exclusively. I’m grateful to Barry for teaching me that.”

Grateful! She shook her head. The hurt behind the lesson must have been dreadful. However much Daniel Wolfe rationalised what his half-brother had done to him, the cruel competitiveness of the game had surely frozen his heart. No wonder he’d perfected icy control, holding back until he could be certain there was to be no shift of interest.

“Is this why you haven’t married?” she asked softly.

“Tell me why you haven’t,” he countered.

“It never felt right for me.”

He nodded, emanating a satisfaction that she could feel curling around her. Her stomach clenched as she comprehended what it meant. She’d passed the test of being immune to Barry Wolfe’s attractions. He wanted her. Exclusively. He wanted her to want him exclusively.

However much the idea might appeal, it was impossible.

She was a twin.

CHAPTER FIVE

DANIEL found it exciting simply having her walking beside him, climbing the hill together, ostensibly to their cabins. But they were climbing other hills in his mind. Many other hills, with peaks he wanted to reach. With her.

Once she stopped lying.

Didn’t she realise it was holding them back? One bold step from her, and they could be past that hump and travelling down the road of truth. He ached for the chance to experience the kind of communication where there were no secrets, no need to suppress anything, no false images. He longed for an honesty that generated mutual trust, where revealing one’s true self was not a fear but a joyous freedom, where knowledge of each other was not a weapon but a shared pleasure.

What would it take to pull her over the line she’d drawn in her mind? To make her open up to him? Open in every sense. Daniel felt his loins tighten. She was so infinitely desirable.

The white pants-suit flowed around her, clinging and floating, tantalisingly modest and seductive. Her hair leapt into a froth of flame under every light they passed. In every way she was an enthralling embodiment of fire and ice. He’d never wanted a woman as much. He’d thought what he craved was unattainable, but Annabel Parker held the promise of it. He could feel it...just out of reach.

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