Playing at Love. Jennifer Taylor
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Playing at Love - Jennifer Taylor страница 5
‘You don’t really mind me coming, do you, darling?’ Her voice dropped a note, openly seductive now.
‘It might have been better if you’d called, Carling.’ He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes fastening on Louise with a touch of deliberation in the look. ‘It isn’t the most convenient of times for a surprise visit.’
‘Not convenient...?’ The woman’s gaze followed his, her eyes widening when they came to rest on Louise standing by the side of the tumbled bed. In a fast, almost disbelieving curve, they ran across the rumpled satin spread, then over Louise’s body in the pale blue gown and robe, and Louise decided there and then to nip whatever ideas the stranger was getting in the bud.
She pushed her ruffled hair back from her face, forcing a polite smile as she took a step towards the couple, who were standing close together by the door. ‘Hello,’ she said softly. ‘I know this must seem awfully—’
‘Darling, you don’t have to explain. Carling understands about these things.’ The man’s voice was smooth as silk as he moved away from the woman and started back across towards Louise, yet his eyes held a hard glint that robbed Louise of the ability to speak for a moment. Confused, she stared back at him, then gasped as he slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so that she could feel the warmth of his big body all down the side of her breast and hip, smell the clean fragrance of soap that clung to his skin. The sensations made her feel almost giddy by their very unfamiliarity, and he took full advantage of the moment. His hand slid under her chin, warm and firm as he tilted her face and stared into her startled eyes for a moment then bent and kissed her hard on the mouth.
When he raised his head Louise couldn’t have spoken to save her life, too stunned by what he’d done and the effect one kiss could have. She’d been kissed before many times, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling as though her heart was going to beat itself to pulp inside her chest.
She breathed slowly, willing herself to find the strength to handle this unexpected twist, but didn’t have time to utter a single word before the man continued in that same smooth-as-silk tone, ‘I think I should introduce you two ladies, don’t you?’ He laughed softly, intimately, as his arm clasped Louise’s shoulders even tighter. ‘Louise, darling, I’d like you to meet Carling Hutton. Her father owns this hotel and the rest of the chain I’m negotiating to buy at present. Carling...my fiancée, Louise Carter.’
She couldn’t have felt more stunned if he’d hit her! Louise just stared at him, her eyes black with shock, before suddenly coming to her senses. This whole episode was fast turning into one of those Whitehall farces her parents had used to love so much: all it would need now was an irate husband with a shot-gun bursting into the room to complete the scene! But if he thought that she was going along with whatever he was plotting he could think again!
She pulled away from him, her face flushed with colour. ‘Look, I’ve no idea what you think you’re doing, but—’
He smiled as he pressed a long finger against her lips to stern the heated flow of words. ‘I know, I know, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything about our engagement until we’ve had time to tell your parents the marvellous news, but Carling is a trusted friend. She wouldn’t dream of letting the cat out of the bag and spoiling the surprise. Would you, Carling?’
There was a momentary pause, then the woman spoke, a smile pasted to her pink-tinted lips. ‘Of course not, Wyatt. You know I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to spoil your...happiness. Congratulations to you both. I must admit this has come as a bit of a surprise. I don’t know how you managed to keep your...friendship with Miss Carter from the Press, Wyatt. They’re usually keen to keep abreast of what the great Wyatt Lord gets up to.’
There was just the faintest trace of scepticism in the woman’s voice, but Louise was less concerned with that than the fact that not only did she suddenly have a fiancé, but that she hadn’t even known his real name. Wyatt Lord. She rolled the name round and round as she studied his handsome face, the clean-cut lines of his profile, but she couldn’t ever remember hearing of him before.
‘I think the Press have started to give up on me lately.’ He laughed deeply, catching Louise’s hand to twine his fingers with hers. ‘I’ve been a bit of a recluse over recent months, and I have this little lady to thank for that.’
Louise winced at the endearment and tried to snatch her hand away. She was nobody’s ‘little lady’, and especially not his, and it was about time she made that clear! ‘Look, this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? I have no idea what—’
Once again he stopped her, pulling her into his arms to hold her so close that she could barely breathe as he kissed her with punishing hardness, his eyes glittering a warning as he stared down at her. ‘You mustn’t be embarrassed, honey. I know this isn’t the way we planned it to happen, but...’ He shrugged lightly, his arms dropping to loop around the back of her waist and keep her pressed tightly against him as he looked over her head at Carling. Louise could feel every inch of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of her robe and gown, could feel the dampness of the towel that covered his hips, the strength of his thighs where they touched hers, and her mouth went dry at the sheer intimacy of what he was doing. Kisses and a little light lovemaking she’d experienced and could handle, but this...this was something way beyond her limited experience!
She barely heard him when he carried on speaking, too busy trying to cope with the multitude of mixed emotions she was feeling: embarrassment, anger and a strange heady languor, a feeling that she wanted to stay in his arms, pressed against his powerful body, forever...
Her head jerked up, her face flaming at the thought, and she suddenly came to her senses in time to hear him say softly, ‘I’m afraid that nature took care of the rest. We didn’t mean to pre-empt our wedding night, but after all Louise’s tender care last night when I was so ill... I’m sure you understand, Carling, don’t you? And don’t feel that Louise should be feeling embarrassed or ashamed of what happened this morning.’
Oh, enough was enough! She might not have followed the conversation from start to finish, but it didn’t take a genius to work out what he’d been telling the other woman. If he imagined that she was going to allow Carling to leave this room thinking that she and Wyatt Lord had slept together, then he could think again.
Louise tried again to set the record straight, only this time it was Carting who stopped her. She moved across the room, her mouth curved into a smile of understanding that did little to disguise the hatred burning in her green eyes as she stared back at Louise. Close to, she was younger than Louise had imagined she was, the skilful make-up and polished appearance lending her a sophistication more suited to someone in her late twenties. Louise would put her age at less than that—nineteen, possibly twenty, but no more.
‘Of course not! Wyatt’s right, Louise, you shouldn’t feel at all uncomfortable about me coming up here and finding you in his room.’
Why did that bland, polite statement make her feel like squirming? Louise had no idea, just the sure and certain knowledge that that had been Carling Hutton’s intention. Anger raced through her, stealing away the ability to think rationally and weigh up her actions, to see them as the folly they undoubtedly were. ‘Thank you, Carling. I may call you that, I hope?’ She pouted gently, then let her hands trail up Wyatt Lord’s chest, her nails