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The Final Seduction(7)

By:Sharon Kendrick


Carefully clipped herb bushes lined the gravel path and two bay trees  stood in white boxes on either side of the back door. While at the end,  contrasting beautifully against the dark wooden fence, stood the misty  mauve blur of Michaelmas daisies. For a moment it was like being  transported back in time. Shelley swallowed and tore her over-bright  eyes away-thinking that she might faint if she didn't have a cup of tea  soon.                       
       
           



       

She went into the kitchen, noting how old-fashioned the free-standing  units looked, and how dingy the paint was. How dingy everything was,  really-when she compared it to the homes she had shared with Marco. Then  she turned the tap on.

Nothing.

Shelley blinked at it in consternation. Then tried the tap again.

Still nothing.

Horror at her own stupidity flared up inside her as she clicked on the  light switch, knowing even as she did it that it would prove useless.

She stood there in silence, not noticing the dark shape which had loomed  up outside the plastic insert of the front door until a loud rapping  made her start.

The sheer height of the man registered on her subconscious as she pulled  the door open. But that didn't stop her heart from beating like crazy  when she saw it was Drew-still in navy sweater and jeans, but with no  sign of the dog.

She looked into his face. It wasn't a friendly face, but it was a face  she knew and had once loved. And when you were feeling as vulnerable as  Shelley was, feeling that familiarity was a potent and dangerous  quality.

'Hello, Drew,' she gulped. 'I certainly wasn't expecting you to be my first caller.'

His mouth flattened into a grim sort of smile. 'Believe me, I wasn't planning on being your first visitor.'

'So why are you here?'

'Curiosity, mainly,' he answered slowly. 'And a phone call from my sister. She insisted I come.'

'Which sister?'

'Jennie.'

'Oh.' Shelley wondered if the regret showed in her face. Because she and  Jennie had been the best friends in the world. Until the Marco  incident-when, naturally enough, she had taken her brother's side. They  hadn't seen one another or spoken a word since. 'How did she know I was  here?'

'She's your neighbour. She lives in our old house. And that's next door, in case you've forgotten.'

'Jennie lives next door?'

Was this the same Jennie who had called Milmouth a fading seaside dump  with no soul? Who had called their small houses rabbit hutches and  couldn't wait to get as far away as possible? Shelley's eyes widened  with surprise. 'You mean, with your parents?'

'No, no.' He shook his head impatiently. 'They retired to the Isle of Wight. And Cathy's living in London.'

'So how's Jennie?' she dared ask.

'Well, probably more pleased than I am that you've come crawling back-'

'No, not crawling, Drew. With my head held very high.'

'If you say so.' But his eyes glittered as though he didn't quite believe her.

She took a deep breath. 'Drew?'

He threw her a mocking look. 'Shelley?'

'Do you know who has been responsible for doing the garden?'

There was a pause. 'My sister.'

'Your sister?' Shelley frowned. 'Jennie must have changed quite a bit if she's into gardening.'

He laughed. 'She doesn't do it herself. She gets someone in for a few  hours a week and asked them to keep yours tidy at the same time.' He  turned the corners of his mouth down. 'Otherwise it made the place look  overgrown and derelict.'

'It looks gorgeous,' she said wistfully.

He didn't respond to that, just fixed her with that dazzling blue stare. 'So where's lover-boy?'

'I do wish you wouldn't keep calling him names!' she told him crossly,  then sighed. There was no point in lying. Not to Drew. You only made  that kind of mistake once in a lifetime. 'He isn't here.'

'I know. Do you really think I would have come around if he was lurking around upstairs waiting for you?'

'How could you possibly know that?'

'My sister said there was only one person in the car.'

'So Jennie couldn't wait to bad-mouth my arrival?'

He shook his head. 'Actually, no. She saw your car-only she didn't realise that it was your car-and rang me, just in case-'

'In case of what?' Shelley interrupted angrily. 'In case someone in a  car happened to be visiting a house? Gosh, I'd forgotten all about how  effective the Milmouth mafia could be!'

This seemed to amuse him. 'It depends on how you look at it, surely?  Either you find it a repressive, small-town mentality-in which case I  wonder why you came back at all-or you appreciate the fact that someone  is there looking out for you. If you were a woman, living on her own … as  Jennie is … ' he paused thoughtfully ' … and a car you didn't recognise  stopped outside a house which had been empty for the last two years-then  you'd be pretty dumb not to investigate, wouldn't you? Particularly  if-' and his eyes narrowed with something very like distaste as he half  turned his head in the direction of the gleaming grey car which stood  outside '-the car in question looked glaringly out of place.'                       
       
           



       

'And what's wrong with the car?'

'Nothing's wrong with it,' he shrugged. 'It's just a bit of a cliché, isn't it?'

She knitted her carefully plucked brows at him. 'You're calling one of  the most aerodynamically superior vehicles in the world a cliché?'

'It's nothing but an executive toy,' he said damningly. 'It reeks of  flash and cash, but without much substance. So what was it, Shelley? The  pay-off?'

The most galling thing was that he had shrewdly hit on a nerve. 'Mind your own business!'

'Is it all over between you?' he persisted softly. 'Why isn't he here with you?'

Well, she supposed that it was going to come out sooner or later. 'He isn't here because, yes, it's over.'

'You won't be going back?'

'No.' The word fell heavily, like a stone into a pond.

'So what happened?'

She looked at him in surprise. 'I don't have to answer that.'

'No, you're right.' His eyes glittered. 'You don't. But you might want  to answer this-which is whether you were intending to come back to a  house that hadn't been aired for years, with no running water or  electricity. You can't have a bath. You can't flush the loo. You can't  even heat yourself a can of soup.' He gave her a look of cool mockery.  'That wasn't very clever of you, was it, Shelley?'

'I left Italy in a … hurry.'

'So I see.' His eyes flicked over the crumpled linen suit. 'Kicked you out, did he?'

She turned away, but not before he had seen the tears well up in her  eyes. Tears of fatigue which made her feel like some sad, foolish little  cast-off. She swallowed them down. 'Why are you here, Drew-just to  insult me? To rile me? Because I can do without it at the moment, if you  don't mind.'

'I'll tell you exactly why I'm here,' he told her quietly. 'Because not  only is it Sunday, it is also late October. Now, you may have pushed all  memories of Milmouth away during your three-year absence, so allow me  to remind you that the weather isn't particularly welcoming by the sea  at this time of year. There's no way you can stay here tonight. You'll  freeze. And you won't get water and electricity connected until tomorrow  at the very earliest.'

His cool logic made her want to scream at him-mainly because he was  right. 'If you're expecting me to fall to my knees in front of you and  beg you for help then I'm sorry to disappoint you.'

His eyebrows disappeared into the honey-tipped hair. 'Fall to your knees  in front of me any time you like, kitten,' he said deliberately. 'You  don't even have to beg!'

Her cheeks flared at the sexual insinuation, but she still managed to  meet his gaze with defiance. 'I'll find myself a hotel room for the  night!'

'Have you booked?'

'Oh, yeah, sure!' she smiled sarcastically. 'I just came here first to  go through the whole pantomime of pretending to turn the lights and the  water on, while all the time I knew that I had a lovely, warm hotel room  waiting for me!'

'You sarcastic little bitch,' he whispered softly. 'I don't know why I  came over here with some outdated idea of responsibility. Maybe I should  just leave you here on your own.'

'Well, why don't you?' she challenged.

'Because, Shelley-unlike your previous lover-I happen to have a few  values, that's why! And not only would I steer clear of muscling in on  another man's fiancé-I'd kind of have a problem sleeping easily if I  knew that a woman was spending the night alone in a cold and  inhospitable house. Even if that woman was you.'

Ouch! 'Don't tell me-you're offering me a bed for the night?'

At her words he stilled, and his eyes glittered with dazzling blue  light. 'Oh,' he murmured. 'Is that what you'd like, then, Shelley? A  little body warmth, huh? A little skin on skin? Maybe create a little  friction together-though I wasn't thinking of the boy scout version of  rubbing sticks together-'

'You've been reading too many pornographic magazines!' she suggested tartly.