A Sudden Engagement & the Sicilian's Surprise Wife(20)

‘And our revered director certainly doesn’t fancy me,’ he agreed. ‘By the way, did you know he was dining with the Baileys tonight? And that Beverley was joining them?’

‘I don’t own him,’ she managed at last, unwilling to admit to the searing jealousy she was experiencing. By the time tonight was over would Beverley be in possession of the key to Drew’s house once more?

‘He isn’t worth it.’ She realised that Clive was watching her so closely. ‘Besides, what’s sauce for the goose…’

‘Isn’t it time the others started to arrive?’ Kirsty asked to change the subject, glancing at her watch as she did so. ‘It’s getting quite late—there won’t be much time left to do any work.’

‘They’ll be here soon,’ Clive told her carelessly. ‘And as for work, Drew will make sure none of us slack on that. I should have got Claudio,’ he told her. ‘My agent told me I’d as good as got the part, until your precious fiancé poked his nose in where it wasn’t wanted, and told Simon he didn’t think I’d got the experience. He obviously thinks you’ve got the experience,’ he told Kirsty with a silky vehemence that sounded warning bells in her brain. ‘Have you, Kirsty?’

‘Not really.’ She edged away from him.

‘Oh, come on, don’t give me that. Drew Chalmers is no fool. You can’t be the little innocent you look. We could have fun together, you and I, Kirsty—you know that, don’t you? We’re two of a kind.’

Were they? Somehow Kirsty didn’t think so. Cherry had warned her about Clive, but she had chosen to ignore her, thinking she could use him for her own ends. She had an uncomfortable feeling that she had bitten off more than she could chew. She didn’t like the look in his eyes or the way he was smiling.

It came to her on a sudden rush of distaste that he expected her to cheat on Drew and that while he would do everything he could to encourage her, he was shallow and vain and totally without any substance for anyone to rely on. It was an unpleasant shock to realise how close she had been to allying herself to him, and she admitted tacitly that she would not now go through with her plan to use him to force Drew into abandoning their engagement. She would have to find another way; a way that did not leave her feeling as though she had failed her own high standards.

‘I think I’d better be going,’ she told him quickly. ‘It’s getting late, will you apologise for me to the others?’

‘What others?’ All at once the veneer of good humour was gone. ‘Don’t play games with me, Kirsty. We both know the ground rules. There never was anyone else—just the two of us, and that’s the way we both wanted it, umm?’ His fingers were moving up her arm as he spoke and Kirsty had to fight hard against a shudder of revulsion.

‘You’re wrong,’ she told him firmly. ‘I had no idea. I’m engaged to Drew—remember?’

She hated herself for the weak way she fell back on the protection of Drew’s name; Drew’s ring, glittering fierily on her finger.

‘Sure I do,’ Clive sneered. ‘But we’re both adults—you weren’t thinking too much about Drew Chalmers on Sunday afternoon. Come on, Kirsty,’ he wheedled, ‘what’s the harm?’

‘The harm is that I’m engaged to someone else,’ Kirsty told him. ‘I’m sorry, Clive, but I honestly thought the others would be here.’ She got up as she spoke, heading for the door, but Clive was there before her, his expression bitter as he grasped her arms, swinging her round to face him.

‘You’re a cheat, Kirsty.’ There was an ugly look in his eyes, and a frisson of fear shot through her. ‘But no one cheats me!’

Kirsty struggled to avoid the angry pressure of his mouth, flinching as he lost his temper with her, bruising the soft skin of her face as she tried to avoid his blow. He released her almost immediately, eyes narrowed as she trembled convulsively in front of him.

‘Don’t try running to Drew Chalmers with this,’ he warned her softly. ‘I’ll tell him that you came here of your own free will. It’s surprising how easily soft skin bruises—as I’m sure he already knows.’ His mouth twisted mockingly, and Kirsty was not surprised to discover that she was still trembling when she reached her car.

She seemed to have matured immeasurably in a short handful of hours; first the discovery of her love for Drew, and then learning that sometimes safety came at too high a price. Her own self-respect refused to allow her to stoop to Clive Richmond’s level, and she knew she would rather endure a thousand engagements to Drew in preference to encouraging Clive to believe that she would welcome a sordid affair with him behind Drew’s back.

She inspected her face in her driving mirror before driving off. The skin along her cheekbone was already discolouring. There was a scratch on her throat just above the line of her jumper—she remembered tugging at it—and her bottom lip looked swollen and sore. Swallowing her distaste, she wished she had brought some make-up with her, but she rarely wore more than a touch of eyeshadow, mascara, and lip-gloss, and it would take more than those to disguise her bruises. At least she would be able to conceal them before she had to face the others at rehearsal tomorrow. Heavens, she was a fool! She might have guessed that Clive had no intention of asking the others. No wonder he had refused to believe her!

She did her best during the drive back to compose herself, but it wasn’t easy. She wasn’t going to overreact and assume that Clive had deliberately meant to hurt her, but she had found the experience both humiliating and degrading, and she had probably learned a valuable lesson from it, she admitted wryly, as she parked her car and slid her key into the lock.

Although it wasn’t particularly late the house was in darkness apart from the single lamp glowing in her window, which she had left switched on when coming out. Mrs Cummings, she remembered, had said she was going out to visit her sister.

Never had the thought of the solitude of her own room been so welcome. She intended to have a bath and then go straight to bed. She was completely drained both mentally and physically.

Her door opened smoothly as she inserted her key, and she stepped into the small foyer. Her bruised face had started to throb painfully and she felt grubby and contaminated somehow by the ugly scene she had experienced. She would not be so naïve another time, and she certainly intended to give Clive Richmond a wide berth from now on.

She pushed open the door and stepped into the warm pool of light cast by the lamp, freezing to the spot as Drew uncoiled his lean frame from her settee.

‘Mrs Cummings let me in,’ he told her calmly, his expression suddenly changing as he saw her face. ‘My God, what.…’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Kirsty told him jerkily. ‘Please leave. I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway. Clive told me that Beverley was visiting the Baileys tonight.’

‘Clive told you?’ He pounced, a bitterly cynical expression in his eyes as he looked again at her bruised face. ‘And Clive did this to you, did he? A rough lover, I take it!’

The contempt in his eyes was like a lash on already torn skin, but Kirsty refused to give in to the weak desire to burst into tears, instead saying challengingly, ‘And what if he is? What business is it of yours?’

He reached for her hand before she could stop him, turning it palm down so that the lamplight glittered on her ring.

‘I should have thought this made it pretty much my business,’ he told her, indicating the ring, ‘and the fact that Clive chose to ignore it is hardly a good character reference—just the opposite. He’s the type of man who enjoys stealing from others.’

His assessment was so correct that she was left speechless.

‘Did he, Kirsty?’ Drew demanded harshly, the tone of his voice demanding a response.

‘If you’re referring to me, he could hardly “steal” what doesn’t belong to you,’ Kirsty reminded him. She was about to tell him that the could hardly care what her relationship with Clive was, when he stunned her by saying softly,

‘Then perhaps it’s time it did.’

With two strides he had closed the gap between them, and Kirsty was being crushed against the wall of his chest, his voice grating against her ear as he muttered savagely, ‘If it’s physical violence that turns you on, try this for size!’ And then his mouth was grinding down on hers, savaging the tender flesh as she struggled impotently in his arms.





CHAPTER SEVEN


BRIEFLY, Kirsty saw their reflections in the uncurtained window, Drew, tall and powerful, his body enveloping her smaller frame, intimacy cloaking their real emotions.

‘Drew, don’t do this,’ she begged, dragging her mouth free from the assault of his, but he wasn’t listening to her. His eyes were fastened on the small tear in her sweater, the expression in this turning her blood to ice, fear, freezing her muscles as he lifted his eyes to her face.

‘Drew, it wasn’t like that…’ she protested, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

‘And to think I fell for that sweet, innocent act!’ he muttered thickly. ‘But you aren’t innocent any more, are you, Kirsty?’ He touched her mouth, probing with one finger, a cynical smile curving his mouth as she winced from the pain of her bruised flesh, trying to find the words to convince him that he was wrong. He was like a leashed animal in the small confines of her room, and the pent-up bitterness of his fury frightened her; all the more so because there was no reason for it.