The Seduction Trap (10 page)

‘I realise that.’ He seemed almost pleased. Tessa put the tray down again. There was something she didn’t understand. ‘I can see you’re protective of the local businesses my mother owes money to, but you actually hate her, don’t you? Did you scare her? Did you threaten her and frighten her away?’ she demanded. ‘I haven’t harmed a hair of her head.’ There was a husky quality about his voice and a stillness to his body which suggested the deadly calm before a storm. He smiled thinly. ‘But I’d like to.’

Tessa found that she’d stopped breathing, and sucked in air to fill her deflated lungs, then pushed out her question sharply. ‘Because? This is something personal, isn’t it? Something more than her debts.’

‘Yes, it’s personal.’ His eyes lashed hers. ‘She destroyed my family.’

In the cold, tight silence which followed, Tessa fought with her desire to turn tail and remain ignorant of the reason for Guy’s hostility. But she knew she’d never rest. She’d have to hear his story and decide on its truth, however painful that might be. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘You’d better explain that, hadn’t you?’

A flicker of pity touched his eyes and then was gone. ‘Your mother came to this village when I was sixteen,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I understand that she’d been working her way through France for almost a year by then. She turned up here and began work in my father’s vineyard. The village men couldn’t keep their eyes off her. She had a rare beauty: something intangible which made her seem fragile and vulnerable and sexy at the same time.’ Tessa stared. Guy’s mouth had become bitter, his eyes hard

with harsh memories. ‘And you?’ she asked. ‘Did you fall for her too? Did she reject you? Is this all about your hurt pride and jealousy-?’

‘Hell, no!’ He focused on her sharply. ‘You haven’t made the connection, have you?’ He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. ‘I didn’t fall head-over-heels in love with her,’ he said softly. ‘My father did. She became his mistress within a week of arrival. And as far as he was concerned neither my mother nor I existed from then on.’

Tessa froze. ‘My mother was your father’s mistress?’ It was unbelievable. What had Guy said? Something about leading his father a dance around the fleshpots of the world. Draining his father dry, causing the village to die slowly from neglect ... ‘No! You’re lying!’ she cried, trying to free herself from his increasingly tight grasp. ‘You want to hurt her—and me for some reason-’

‘I’m not lying. Think about it. I talked about this before I knew for sure who you were. Ask anyone in the village. They’ll confirm my story. Estelle Davis dazzled my father and flaunted their relationship without caring who she hurt in the process. That’s why I loathe her.’

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered, aching with the hurt and embarrassment which rushed up through her body like a tidal wave.

She squeezed her eyes shut in dismay, though the image of Guy’s proud, strained face remained vivid and painful. There was more behind that story. It was plain from the simmering anger behind those bleak and glacial eyes. But she didn’t want to know any details or to learn that her mother was selfish and cruel. And so she dreaded looking at him and seeing the repulsion on his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I understand now why you’re bitter.’ It seemed an inadequate thing to say. With a heavy heart, she bravely opened her eyes and dragged her gaze to his. ‘People can’t help falling in love,’ she ventured miserably. ‘That’s true. They can, however, control how discreet they are-and take steps not to hurt others,’ he pointed out grimly. It was as though the resentment of years had begun to find its way out, and he ploughed on in a harsh and bitter voice.

‘Papa’s affair was the talk of the village. The fact that he’d given your mother three estate cottages as a gift gave rise to meetings with the mayor and escalated into a full-scale row. Whenever Martian or I ventured beyond our gates we were met by sudden embarrassed silences and averted glances, because people did little else but discuss the scandal and they felt sorry for us.’

‘I can understand how you felt,’ she said, knowing what it was like to be the subject of gossip.

Guy’s eyes hardened, showing a glimpse of frighteningly steely anger. ‘Maman and I left. We couldn’t bear it. No teenager wants to find his father-’

‘Please don’t say any more!’ she cried in anguish, her fingers agitatedly twisting the fabric of her long skirt. The images conjured up by Guy’s hard-hitting words had stricken her heart. She couldn’t believe that her mother had been so reckless, so thoughtless. Tessa’s emotions seemed to be in tatters.

‘I was told my mother was wonderful! No one could hold a candle to her... She was beautiful-’

‘Yes.’

‘Irresistible-’

‘Yes!’

‘Not cruel, though!’ she cried, begging him to agree. The ferocity of his expression and the terrible, lacerating contempt made her cringe. Little pearly tears squeezed from the corners of each eye. ‘Oh, G-G-Guy!’ In desperation she tried to rid herself of the awful lump in her throat and the misery which was threatening to swamp her.

Suddenly her arms had been caught in a strong grip. Guy was pulling her towards him, against his chest, tipping up her chin, his expression angry, his body shaking with it, as though the fury and bitterness he’d unleashed needed an outlet. ‘Damn you! Damn you and your mother!’ he growled harshly. Tessa cringed in his arms, afraid of the emotion which consumed him so utterly that it seemed he hardly knew what he was doing. Bereft of speech, she opened her mouth in a helpless, silent protest. And found it crushed by Guy’s savage kiss. There was no time to think. Not that there was anything remotely like thought working in her brain. His mouth demanded her attention, bruising her lips, coaxing them into soft and lush pliability. His hands crushed her to him, sliding up her back so that her cushiony breasts met the hard, resisting surface of his chest. Little shudders of excitement flickered over her flesh, melting her resistance as their mouths blended into a perfect whole-warm, whispering, intoxicatingly sensual. Half in defence, half to steady herself, she raised her hands till her palms rested where they seemed to belong, on the broad shelf of his shoulders. Her breasts lifted as she did so, in a slow and exquisite movement as each swollen nipple dragged teasingly against his thin shirt. And he made a growling noise in his throat which electrified her.

Without any thought going through her head, she set free the sharp pang which had lanced through her body by sighing helplessly into his marauding mouth ...

Her sigh galvanised Guy into a different action. Coming to his senses at last, he thrust her back, the force of the movement making her head snap back and her shining hair fly in all directions while he muttered short, sharp curses under his breath in fluent French.

He’d wanted her with a passion which unnerved him. For the first time in his life he’d acted on pure instinct. He’d wanted her-as his father had wanted Estelle-with a passion so unbearable that he’d had to do something to ease it. And that enslavement to animal need had enraged him. God, how he despised himself for losing control! She had been so damn vulnerable, so beautiful in her distress that he’d wanted to protect her from all harm. When Tessa had cried he had known he should walk away.

Recognising that he couldn’t do so had made him even angrier. He’d longed to comfort her, to gather her in his arms and murmur soothing words to take away the pain of her mother’s betrayal. But that would have led to another, more dangerous situation. It was vital that he stayed detached. His duty was to recover his property, not to complicate his life by getting involved with Estelle’s daughter. He had a mission, and Tessa wasn’t the kind of woman you played around with. She would expect commitment-and that was something not in his power to give. He’d needed to stop Tessa crying before his heart had softened. A few sharp words would have sufficed. Why the hell had he chosen to ease his hunger and kiss her into silence? What malevolent fate had driven him to take out his anger and frustration on her?

Somehow he must convince her that the kiss had meant nothing. Even if he still wanted to kiss her, again and again, till she was breathless. Far from satisfying his hunger, he had only succeeded in fuelling it.

‘Guy!’ she said shakily, still reeling from the violent turmoil rampaging through her entire body. He’d kissed her. And she’d loved it. Wanted more. A lot more. Come to think of it, she’d intensified the contact. The damp black lashes fringing her huge violet eyes fluttered as her pupils contracted with shock. ‘What did you do that for?’ she asked, concealing her panic. He drew in a long, tense breath, and it was several seconds before he let it out in a slow exhalation, almost as though he was counting to ten whilst doing so. ‘How else was I to stop you crying?’ he asked, with breathtaking callousness. ‘Oh! You-you brute!’ she gasped indignantly. His mouth pinched in a fraction. ‘Then he checked whatever he’d intended to say, turned abruptly and walked away to the side gate, hurling icily over his shoulder, ‘It worked, didn’t it?’

‘A few nice words and a handkerchief would have been kinder,’ she mumbled, going brick-red with shame. He studied her for a moment, his expression noncommittal. ‘And wiser,’ he agreed. ‘If I had stopped to think what your reaction might be, I’d never have touched you. I hope you are aware that I have no interest in you as a woman. None at all!’ he said, as though she needed the point ramming home when it was already turning and twisting in her body, opening barely closed wounds.

Tessa felt deeply humiliated. He meant that it had never occurred to him that she’d respond with such breathtaking enthusiasm. ‘I never imagined that you had,’ she replied sharply, her self-esteem on its way to rock-bottom again. The hard slash of his lips twisted and he swore softly under his breath, turning away as though he could bear the sight of her stricken face no longer.

Numbly she watched him fling the gate shut and stride down the little backstreet. And all she could think was that it was like the scene with David all over again. She felt the same squeeze in the pit of her stomach, the same sense of horror.

It had only been a kiss. No great drama, perhaps, to any other woman. But it was to her. She’d vowed never to give her favours freely ever again. That resolution seemed to have flown out of the window with painful ease.

And judging by her abandoned reaction, Guy must think she was desperate for love, comfort, anything re motely affectionate. The scorn he obviously felt for her hit at the root of her security again.

Only when he had disappeared did she sink limply to the ground, her skirts floating about her on the grass. ‘I’m a fool!’ she groaned hopelessly. How could she live with herself after this?

‘Perhaps they make contact lenses for brains,’ she muttered gloomily, trying to buck herself up. ‘God knows, I need something to help me judge men’s motives better.’ Tentatively she touched her soft mouth, exploring its lush, rather overripe curves. Her lips still felt bruised to the touch. The remembered pressure of his magnificent body against hers tortured her mind, stabbing her loins with a spasm of need. She’d loved the power and energy that had surged through every inch of him. Had wanted to share it. It was a terrifying thought that she could be so weak-willed. Why hadn’t she objected at once? Why had she left it to him to be the one who walked away? She knew the answer. He wanted to unsettle her. He had a devious ability to destroy her defences. He kept throwing her off balance by working on her emotions, destroying her defences with worrying facts and shock revelations and then offering the pretence of sympathy. It was a brutal but highly successful method. And she despised him utterly for it.

‘I won’t let him get me down!’ she ground out, jumping up decisively.

She was determined to ease the sickening anger churning in her stomach. The situation seemed bad, but she’d got through similar difficulties before by taking one step at a time. As a start, she began to search for the house documents. They were hidden beneath a pile of papers in a drawer, with a note attached in her mother’s writing which said, ‘Cottages for Tess’. Naturally the deeds were

written in French, which meant she couldn’t understand a word. A French dictionary went on her list of shopping. Checking the map, she saw that Lalinde or Le Bugue looked the most likely towns for that, and also for the other things she’d need. ‘Holidaymakers next,’ she said briskly, attempting to fill the silent, empty building with friendly sound. ‘An assessment of the cottages and then a trip to the shops.’ Tessa finished ticking off the priorities on her fingers. It might even be fun having a friendly chat with the visitors if they were English. Perhaps she’d suggest they meet for a drink in the evening. A little company wouldn’t go amiss. Her tense muscles relaxed a little at the thought. But she recognised what a difficult task she had ahead-and the attitude of Guy and the villagers wouldn’t make it any easier. She remembered his anger, the dark glitter in his scathing eyes. His determination to acquire her cottages was stronger than any sense of fair play. He’d do anything necessary, she felt sure. And she shivered with a predictive fear.

Two days later, Tessa was sitting glumly beneath the covered market in the middle of the village square. The holiday lets had proved to be a nightmare. The furious guests had pounced on her and taken her on an eyeopening tour of each cottage, complaining unceasingly. Unfortunately they had every reason to do so.

She gazed longingly at the bar. It was eleven o’clock and it was open, the drift of a rich coffee aroma tantalising her senses. But yesterday she’d been told to go away in no uncertain terms, and it hadn’t needed any knowledge of the language to understand what the scowls and brusquely waved arms had meant.