The Billionaire's Captive Bride(7)

His reply was so smooth, his expression shifting so swiftly to serious  sincerity, Erin wondered if she'd imagined the hot flash of desire. But  her skin was still tingling from it.

Fortunately the waitress arrived at their table to take their meal  orders, diverting Peter Ramsey's attention and giving Erin a breathing  space. She needed a blast of oxygen in her brain to clear her confusion  and get some reasonable perspective on what had eventuated from this  meeting so far.

She had paraded her wish to be desirable to him with blatant honesty.

He hadn't liked it.

Yet now … did he find a hard-to-get scenario more stimulating-the  challenge of winning over resistance? Perhaps he'd had too many women  offering themselves to him on a platter and he'd envisaged her being  different-more of a novelty for him, like her choice of this restaurant.

She sighed.

Nothing in real life was simple.

Which was why she much preferred living in the stories she made up in  her mind. She had total control over how her characters acted and what  their response to each other would be.

"Erin?"

Peter's prompt snapped her out of fantasy and back to the immediate  demands of the present. She smiled at the waitress. "I'll have the  Chilli Jam Prawns."

"You like hot?" Peter queried.

"Chilli Jam is more spicy than hot," Erin informed him.

"I'll have the same," he instructed the waitress who ticked off the order and departed to take it to the kitchen.

Peter flashed a devil-may-care grin at Erin. "I like spicy."

Her stomach cramped, battling the butterflies that were suddenly  swarming through it. That grin … the wickedly sexy sparkle in his eyes … he  was applying spicy to her … had to be … yet …

She cocked her head, looking askance at him, trying to be more  objective-sensible-about what Peter Ramsey was doing here. "Why do I get  the feeling you're being adventurous tonight?"

He laughed and Erin felt the sheer joy of the sound rippling through  her, stroking chords of pleasure that totally erased the dark swirl of  confusion and left her earlier feelings about this man bubbling brightly  in her mind.         

     



 

He shone above every other man she'd met.

She wanted to experience everything about him.

So her best course was to try to relax and roll with whatever he wanted to say and do, see where it led.





CHAPTER FOUR




SHE had that look of curious wonder in her lovely green eyes again-almost childlike in its wishful search for understanding.

It tugged at Peter. He barely resisted the urge to tell her, "You're my adventure, Erin Lavelle."

That truth could very well offend her, make her withdraw from him, halt  his progress in finding out more about her. So far, it was all good. No  boyfriend. What family she had-divorced parents-had no strong claim on  her. She was free to do whatever she chose, and tonight she'd chosen to  have dinner with him before going off to a party.

Not that she would get to that party.

Peter was determined on holding her with him.

"Today has not been my usual scene," he conceded, aware she wanted to be  given a reasonable explanation for his actions. "But it has felt  surprisingly good and I guess I want to finish it up still feeling  good."

"Why were you in the park?" she asked, pinning him down to detail.

Because you were there.

Would she be flattered to hear that?

Or frightened?

His hunting instincts warned it was better to get closer to her before  showing his hand. He shrugged and answered, "The whim of a moment. I'd  spent the morning at Randwick Racecourse, meeting with my trainer. The  Autumn Racing Carnival is coming up and he wanted to discuss the form of  the horses I own. I was driving back into the city, thinking what a  beautiful day it was." His smile invited her to smile back at him as he  added, "The urge to stop and smell the roses came upon me."

She laughed at his whimsy. "There are no roses in that park."

"Fresh air then," he supplanted. "You don't get fresh air and sunshine in boardrooms."

Her eyes danced with amusement. "When was the last time you played hookey from your usual life?"

He shook his head. "I can't remember."

"And it still feels good-" she gestured to their downmarket surroundings "-being here?"

His eyes lightly teased as he answered, "How could it not when a  princess sweeps in, wanting to bring joy to a child for evermore?"

"Oh!" Her hands flew up to cup cheeks that suddenly bloomed rose-red. "You really were listening to me tell that story!"

"You had those children-and me-totally rapt."

"You liked it?" She glowed with delight, as though such an accolade was totally unexpected and an immense pleasure.

"You have a very special gift, Erin," he assured her.

"That's one of my favourite stories. I'm so glad it … " She stopped,  frowned as though having second thoughts about the rush of uninhibited  enthusiasm. Her lashes lowered and he caught the sense that she was  hiding something from him.

"Go on," he urged, wanting the happy animation on her face to return. It was so open and unaffected.

She flashed him a self-deprecating little smile and picked up her glass  of water. "I was getting carried away by your compliment, Peter. And I  do thank you for it, but let's talk about the Harper family now. That is  what you came for."

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it. He had come for her. He  could have asked for and received a report on Dave's ex-wife over the  telephone. But it was probably too soon for Erin to feel comfortable  about being the sole focus of his attention. Better to get the Harper  family issue out of the way first.

Adopting an expression of eager interest, he opened up with, "I presume  your aunt used my business card and explained my intervention on Dave's  behalf?"

"Not to begin with. She told Mrs Harper about Thomas's father turning up  in the park and … " Erin frowned over the recollection. "It was weird,  Peter. Instead of being angry or frightened or agitated … she looked  triumphant as though he'd walked into a trap she'd set for him. Her body  language was all hyped up eagerness as she asked if the police had been  called to take him away."

Peter nodded. "That fits with Dave's story. She wants Thomas to herself  with Dave right out of both their lives, and she's pursuing every nasty  ruse to bring about that outcome. I imagine your aunt was subjected to a  blast of angry frustration when the answer was negative."

"It was like a bomb going off." The shock of it widened her eyes and  coloured her voice as she described the reaction. "Abuse, threats,  insults. Mrs Harper's face was red with fury by the time Sarah managed  to cut through the tantrum, handing her your business card and relaying  your support for Mr Harper."         

     



 

"What happened then?"

"Well, your name certainly knocked the stuffing out of her. She didn't  want to believe it. Kept saying things like … How could Dave know him? Why  would he stick his oar in? It's got nothing to do with him. Anyhow,  Sarah told her you were very definitely taking an interest on Mr  Harper's behalf. Then she got hysterical, almost screaming that it was  her life and she was going to live it her way."

"That fits, too," Peter said, satisfied he was supporting a just case.  "Dave said he always had to give in to her for the sake of peace, but he  couldn't bear having his son taken from him."

"I think she'll fight it right down to the wire," Erin warned, "I think she's too used to getting her own way not to."

"I don't doubt that. But I've put Dave in the hands of a lawyer who will  ensure appropriate visiting rights and take the custody battle to  court. It won't go all her way."

His confidence clearly piqued her interest. "Why have you involved  yourself, Peter? I mean … Mrs Harper had a point. Why stick your oar in  when it's none of your business?"

"Do you disapprove?"

"No. Not at all. It's just … well … just not what people generally do, taking a stranger on board and doing what you can for him."

She was impressed and intrigued by his generosity. Peter knew he could  capitalise on her admiration but he never felt comfortable when money  was behind it. "When you have all the advantages of great wealth at your  fingertips, it's easy to play The Good Samaritan, Erin," he said  sardonically.

"I guess that's true," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "But this wasn't  just tossing money at him. You gave him your time, as well. Went out of  your way to fix things for him."

"I didn't want him to lose his son. It's not right what happens with  divorce. Too many fathers are cast adrift without their family. I know  if it happened to me I'd fight tooth and nail for my children."



Erin believed him. The hard, ruthless edge in his voice, the brooding  expression on his face, the glint of hell-bent determination in his  eyes-the thought ran through her mind and shivered down her spine-heaven  help the woman who tried to separate Peter Ramsey from his children!  The Viking warrior would go into battle with a vengeance.