Living With The Enemy. Laura Martin

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nothing of holding her, nothing of the effect that such a touch could have. ‘But it’s all right; I can get something for myself,’ she added stiltedly. ‘If...if you want to carry on with whatever you were doing. Charles did warn me that you were a workaholic.’

      ‘Did he indeed?’ Dark eyes slid over her face in amusement, sparkling momentarily. Lucy felt her stomach give a little jolt of excitement. ‘No, don’t worry, I’ve had enough for tonight.’ Casually Alex released his hold. ‘I should stop. Besides, it wouldn’t be very hospitable to ask you to eat alone on your first evening here, would it?’

      ‘I wouldn’t mind,’ she assured him quickly, anxious to make amends for her juvenile behaviour. ‘Now I know that you’re ... that I’m not alone,’ she amended swiftly.

      ‘You thought something might have happened to me? Is that why you looked so panic-stricken?’ Alex queried. ‘How...’ he hesitated, searching for the right word ‘...sweet. I glanced out of my study window and saw you running hell for leather across the terrace—I had no idea such frantic activity was on my account.’

      ‘I called your name and you didn’t answer,’ Lucy retorted sharply, annoyed by his amusement. ‘Anything could have happened.’

      ‘Anything?’ The firm mouth curved a little more. ‘What had you in mind?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know!’ She shook her head, irritated with herself for revealing another of her weaknesses. ‘I suffer from a vivid imagination, that’s all!’

      ‘Instant pictures, instant panic?’

      Lucy nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes, that sort of thing. It can make things difficult at times.’ She swallowed and felt the lump in her throat.

      ‘It maybe contributed to your... illness?’

      She hadn’t expected him to bring that up so openly. Emerald eyes flashed in defensive anger. ‘You mean my breakdown?’ she queried defiantly. ‘You can come right out and say the word, you know,’ she added fiercely. ‘It won’t bite!’

      ‘Yes.’ She saw a hint of steel in his eyes. ‘Your breakdown.’

      ‘I...I don’t want to talk about it!’ she flared angrily, aware of the contradiction. ‘I don’t even want to think about it!’

      ‘I wasn’t aware I had suggested you do either,’ Alex drawled with infuriating smoothness. ‘Although, of course, if you feel you want to talk—’

      ‘I won’t!’

      ‘You’re sure about that?’ Stunning eyes disrupted Lucy’s rigid expression. ‘I’m here. I’m willing to listen.’

      ‘No!’ Fear sharpened her voice. ‘Of course I don’t! You think I would want to dwell on my own failings? To talk about intimate, personal things with you?’

      ‘It crossed my mind. Unburdening yourself can be a great relief. No one can be strong all the time.’

      ‘What would you know about it?’ Lucy looked up at him scornfully. She was hiding behind anger again. She hadn’t meant the conversation to take this turn. She hadn’t expected him to be so open, so...forthright.

      ‘Forget dinner!’ she replied. ‘I’ll get myself a sandwich. You go back to your work.’

      Strong, tormenting hands took hold of Lucy’s arm, preventing her from rushing past. ‘Don’t tell me what to do in my own home!’ It was said with absolute calm, but there was an unmistakable inflexion of steel m the deep voice.

      Lucy looked up into the ruggedly attractive face and tried to calm the thudding of her pulse.

      ‘Perhaps now is the time to get one thing straight,’ Alex continued crisply. ‘I expect a degree of courtesy whilst you are a guest here. I realise you have had a rough time, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate bad manners.’

      Lucy’s green eyes widened in shock. She was about to reply, but he continued before she could even open her mouth.

      ‘You’ve been treated with kid gloves by Charles, by the staff at the hospital. That was understandable in the early days, but you cannot expect that sort of treatment indefinitely—’

      ‘I don’t!’ It was humiliating being spoken to like this. Lucy wished that the patio would open up and swallow her whole. ‘It’s just—’

      ‘I don’t want excuses, or even reasons,’ Alex continued with infuriating ease. ‘I’m just stating the way things should be from now on. I want you to have a pleasant stay here. I want our relationship to be civilised—’

      ‘Civilised!’

      A dark brow rose in query. ‘You don’t like my choice of word, Lucy?’

      ‘I don’t think I like you!’ she snapped. ‘How dare you patronise me like this? Charles would be so angry if he knew you were speaking to me this way!’

      ‘Charles is not here.’

      ‘I wish he were! I want to leave!’

      The attractive mouth curved, but the smile held little amusement. A slight narrowing of the deep, dark eyes showed disapproval. ‘Because I dare to question your behaviour? ’

      ‘This isn’t going to work,’ Lucy replied angrily. ‘I can’t stay here with you! It’s a ridiculous idea. I’m going to phone Charles, tell him he has to come and fetch me—’ She twisted sharply and found to her amazement that Alex wasn’t going to let her go.

      ‘Don’t flounce off like a child!’

      She glared up at the handsome face. How could this be happening? A few minutes ago she had actually been concerned for this man’s welfare! ‘I’m not flouncing!’ She gulped a steadying breath. ‘Would you mind letting go of my arm?’ Her voice sounded crisp—so cold that frost was practically dripping off each syllable. Emerald-green eyes clashed with darkest jet, but his hand stayed where it was. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ she asked angrily.

      Alex looked at her. ‘I heard.’

      She moistened her lips. The tension between them was almost tangible. Alex loomed above her, strong and tanned and full of power. She held herself rigid, waiting for the moment to subside. It didn’t. The tension became more powerful, subtly changing—an electrical tension that didn’t have its roots in anything so straightforward as dislike or hostility.

      The strange, almost dangerous silence lengthened. Alex looked down at her. ‘You really are a mixed-up young woman, aren’t you?’ he murmured quietly.

      ‘Quite different from the usual females you encounter?’

      Lucy put unmistakable emphasis on the last word. She had no idea why she said it—no idea at all. Liar! she told herself. Why can’t you admit that what Charles said about Alex Darcy has been on your mind from the first moment you laid eyes on him?

      ‘For “encounter” I should presumably read “meet in bed”,’ he replied smoothly. There was another tense silence. ‘Has Charles been talking?’ Alex drawled dangerously. ‘Maybe you’re right; maybe he

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