Irresistible Temptation(33)

He blew her a kiss, and went.

Olivia stood for a long moment, staring into space. She felt numb, but  that wouldn't last. Soon-too soon-there would be unbearable pain. And a  sense of humiliation going too deep for words.

She thought, I have to get out of here. Now. Before he comes back.

Her bag was in the dining room, and she found her dress draped over a  clothes airer in the small laundry room that opened off the kitchen.

She took off the robe and threw it down, feeling her skin burn where it  had touched. But at least she could change down here, she thought as she  zipped up her dress. She didn't have to die the death of going back to  Declan's bed-the scene of her bitter, unforgivable betrayal.

She heard herself moan softly, and dragged her jacket out of the bag, shaking out the creases.

'Olivia?' She'd been so intent on making her escape that she hadn't  heard his return, but he was standing in the doorway watching her, his  brows lifted questioningly. 'You're dressed. What happened to breakfast  in bed?'

'I changed my mind.' How could her voice sound so normal? 'I don't really care for croissants and Buck's Fizz.'

'Fair enough,' he said equably. 'Because I've brought a stack of  bacon-in case we need more midnight snacks- plus eggs, tomatoes, and  sausages. The full Irish breakfast Oh, and a couple of baguettes with  some paté and fruit for lunch.'

'I won't be staying. Not for breakfast, lunch, or even another minute.' She shrugged on her jacket.

'What the hell is this?' He was frowning now. 'And where did that come from?' He pointed at the jacket.

'Jeremy brought it round. Wasn't that kind of him? You left the door on the latch and he just walked in.'

'Oh, God, I'm sorry.' He sounded genuinely remorseful, she thought with  incredulity. 'It never occurred to me he'd have the brass face to turn  up here. But surely he can't have upset you again?'

'On the contrary.' Inside the pockets of her jacket, her hands were  balled into fists. 'He's done me a number of favours. Now, if you'll  excuse me, I'll be going.'

'Not like this.' Declan stepped forward, taking her by the shoulders. 'I won't let you.'

'Don't touch me.' Olivia recoiled, shaking herself free almost violently. 'You'll never lay a hand on me again.'

For a moment he stared at her in total disbelief, then he took a careful pace backwards, raising his hands in the air.

'You're free.' His drawl held menace. 'But I think I merit an explanation.'

She walked past him, careful to avoid even the slightest contact. She  couldn't afford to remember even fleetingly how his body had felt  against hers-inside hers. Last night he'd turned her into his  creature-wild, uninhibited, sobbing with ecstasy in his arms. This  morning she belonged to herself again.

He followed her to the dining room. Watched while she retrieved her bag.

He said, 'I'm waiting, Olivia.'

She faced him, chin lifted. 'Your devotion to your cousin is admirable,  Declan, but I didn't realise the lengths your protectiveness could take  you. I now know that you set out to seduce me simply to separate me from  Jeremy.'

'What are you talking about?' She saw the colour fade from his face.                       
       
           



       

'Are you denying you used yourself as bait-taking me to dinner-the  job-my birthday treat?' She spat the words at Mm, using her anger to dam  back the hurt tears that were perilously close but which she could not  afford to shed.

And at the same time part of her was praying that he would indeed deny  it. Condemn Jeremy as a liar. Banish her own terrifying doubts for ever.

But all she saw in his face was shock-and guilt.

She said, 'Can you deny it? You said you never lied to Maria, so do me the same courtesy.'

He took a deep breath. 'No, but you have to let me explain … '

'No explanation's necessary. That's all I wanted to know.' She walked to  the French windows. 'Although I can't understand why you went on with  the plan even when you knew I'd finished with Jeremy. Perhaps you  couldn't resist another notch on your overcrowded bedpost Or maybe it  was a reward because I'd been a good girl-not made waves for Maria. Was  that it?'

He said, in a voice she barely recognised, 'I thought it was love.'

'Love?' Olivia echoed derisively. 'You don't even know the meaning of  the word. You see, I've heard about your A list, too, and I'm compiling  one of my own. A list of people with decency, integrity and common  humanity. And do you know something, Declan? You won't even feature.'

She opened the French windows and walked out into the sunlight without looking back.

Out of his life, she thought Back into her own. And an eternity of loneliness and despair.



Olivia switched off the word processor and sat back with a faint sigh. Another week over, she thought Another weekend to face.

Work had been her lifesaver. Her last line of defence. And her present  job, replacing a secretary on sick leave in a busy chambers in Gray's  Inn, left her, thankfully, with no time to think. Maybe she should look  for something to occupy her during the endless weekends, too, she mused.  A job in a wine bar, perhaps, or showing property.

Sandra Wilton had been knocked sideways when Olivia had presented  herself at the agency with the announcement that she was not returning  to Academy Productions, but she'd seen the other girl's white face and  burning eyes, and had tactfully refrained from asking too many  questions.

And any fears Olivia had had about being blacklisted by the agency or treated as unreliable had soon been assuaged.

The move to Wandsworth had been a relief too. She'd told herself that  Declan wouldn't come after her to Lancey Terrace, and she'd been right,  but she still hadn't felt safe there. It had been altogether too close  for comfort, and she couldn't risk the pain of running into him on the  street, or even seeing him from a distance.

'Goodnight, Olivia.' Tim Carney, one of the pupils in the chambers, stopped beside her desk. 'Have a good weekend.'

'Thank you.' She glanced up, forcing a smile. 'You too.'

He lingered. 'Actually, a few of us are going for a drink. We wondered whether you'd like to join us.'

'That's very kind, but I'm afraid I can't' He was good-looking, talented  and pleasant, she thought dispassionately. And anyone in her right mind  wouldn't hesitate. Only she wasn't in her right mind. She inhabited a  kind of bleak chaos, where nothing made sense any more.

He bit his lip. 'Ah, well. Another time, perhaps.'

'Perhaps,' she agreed gently.

Autumn had come swiftly and sharply, with early frosts, and as she  walked to the bus stop dried leaves were swirling down from the trees  and crunching under her feet The grey skies and chill in the air suited  her mood perfectly, only now she had to go home to Wandsworth and  pretend everything was fine.

Her room was small, but she had it to herself and the walls were solid,  so only she knew that she cried herself to sleep each night And only she  knew how her body still yearned for Declan, no matter how her mind  might reject him. That was something she simply had to endure.

When she'd moved into the flat, she'd feared that Louise might chatter  on endlessly about Academy Productions, but apart from mentioning that  Carol had left with equal suddenness-It must be catching, Livvy'-and  that Declan was striding about these days like Son of Terminator and no  one could get near him, she'd said nothing.

Of course, Declan's weekly political television programme had  returned-Tougher than ever' said the critics-but Olivia contrived to be  out of the sitting room while it was being shown.

Her only weakness had been to keep the paperweight he'd given her,  hidden at the bottom of a drawer. She'd put it outside with the rubbish,  then retrieved it at the last minute, unable to let it go.

One day, she told herself, she'd be strong enough to get rid of it permanently. And then, maybe, she'd know she was healed.

A big advantage of fiat-sharing was that you didn't have to cook every  night, she thought, her nose twitching appreciatively as she let herself  in. Tonight it was the turn of Hilary, the Casserole Queen, and there  was a tantalisingly savoury aroma in the air.                       
       
           



       

'Listen,' Louise said, appearing in the doorway of Olivia's room. 'We're  going to this new club that Hilary knows of later on. Are you up to  it?'

'Not really, thanks.' Olivia flexed her shoulders. 'I've had a really busy day, so I'm planning on an early night'

Louise sighed. 'We'll prise you out one evening, see if we don't But if  you really won't come, can I borrow your little black bag? The catch has  gone on mine.'

'Yes, it's hanging on the back of the door. Help yourself.' Olivia kicked off her shoes.

'You've left something inside,' Louise said, delving. She produced a large iron key. 'What's this?'

'Oh, heavens,' Olivia said slowly. 'It's the key to Lancey Gardens. I  must have forgotten to hand it back with the others. I-I haven't used  that bag since I came here.'