An Unwilling Desire. Кэрол Мортимер
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Mocking green eyes were turned on her. ‘Aren't you?’
A delicate blush darkened her cheeks. ‘I've always believed that if a man has to constantly prove himself in bed with a string of different women there's something wrong with him,’ she told him coldly.
‘Such as?’ He was still amused.
‘Such as he really prefers men, he's very shallow, or he's just afraid to fall in love with one woman,’ she said bluntly, looking only at him as she made the statement.
Maxine gave a laugh of pure enjoyment, her air of bored sophistication leaving her for a moment. ‘Well, Zack?’ she gave a gurgle of laughter, looking years younger, a warm glow to her blue eyes.
‘Hm,’ he grimaced. ‘You can safely discount the first, Holly,’ he said dryly. ‘I enjoy and like women too much for that to be true. The second? No, I don't think I'm shallow either. A little cynical, perhaps,’ he admitted thoughtfully. ‘As for being afraid of love …’ he shook his head, ‘I don't think that's true either. What's your excuse?’
She raised startled eyes at the unexpected suddenness of the question. ‘Excuse for what?’ she frowned.
‘For not being married.’
‘I—–’
‘Holly is only twenty-two,’ James defended tautly. ‘Much too young to be married.’
‘I was engaged to you at that age,’ Maxine reminded him sharply.
‘That was different,’ he snapped.
‘Was it?’ Her voice was hard.
‘I think so,’ he nodded grimly.
‘How?’
‘Maxine—–’
‘How was it different, James?’ she persisted.
His eyes were hard as he looked at her. ‘This is not the time to discuss it.’
‘It never is.’ She stood up with a noisy scrape of her chair. ‘Excuse me,’ her tone was brittle, ‘I'm no longer hungry.’
‘Maxine!’ James’ voice thundered across the room, halting her.
She turned slowly to face her husband, very pale beneath her make-up. ‘Yes?’
‘Sit down,’ he ordered abruptly.
‘Go to hell!’ she snapped.
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘I—said—sit—down!’
Maxine's head went back in challenge. ‘Make me.’
James went deathly pale. ‘Bitch!’ he groaned in a pained voice, and threw his napkin down on the table, manoeuvring his chair over to the door, pushing it open with a crash. The room was starkly silent after his exit.
Maxine suddenly gave a choked cry before she too rushed from the room.
HOLLY had sat in horrified silence as Maxine challenged James's disability in that cruel way. Although Maxine was often absent from the house she had never heard the other couple be so hurtful to each other before. It wasn't—–
‘Stay where you are.’
She hadn't even been aware of standing up, just as she had forgotten the presence of Zack Benedict in the dining-room with her. She resented being told what to do by him or anyone else when they had no right to do so! ‘I beg your pardon?’ She looked down at him icily.
‘Leave them alone,’ he advised gently. ‘From the look of them this argument has been a very long time coming.’
‘But—–’
‘I said leave them, Holly.’ He smiled to take the edge off his words. ‘After all, there's no reason for us to miss our dinner too. James and Maxine's marital problems will have to be worked out between them. So sit down and we'll eat.’
‘I—–’
‘I could make you,’ he warned softly.
She knew he could too. Most of the time he was lazily relaxed, almost indolent, and yet beneath the superb cut of his dinner jacket and silk shirt she was aware of the powerful shoulders and arms, had more than once been a witness to the steelier side of his nature, a side he took pains to hide most of the time.
She sank slowly back into her chair, beginning to eat her meal in silence. He might have ‘persuaded’ her to sit down with him, but she didn't have to give him the satisfaction of actually talking to him too.
She should have known the irrepressible Zack Benedict wouldn't be put off so easily. ‘You never did say whether or not you can sing,’ he prompted as they stood up to take their coffee through to the lounge.
‘Not a note,’ she answered absently, wondering if James was all right.
‘Have you ever tried?’
‘No, and I don't want to either! What are you, some sort of pimp for showgirls?’ She made her tone as insulting as possible, still very resentful of his autocratic behaviour earlier.
He smiled his amusement, not at all put out by her insult. ‘Actually, I'm a record producer. Disappointed?’ he mocked close to her ear, sitting annoyingly close to her on the sofa.
‘Not at all,’ she told him abruptly, moving away from him so that the length of his thigh no longer touched hers. ‘I'm sure you get just as much opportunity to show off your prowess there.’
He didn't rise to the taunt as she expected him to, but gave her a considering look. ‘Why is it you don't like me, Holly?’
‘Do I have to?’ She deliberately didn't look at him, aware that he had shifted slightly, that he was too close to her once again, and her hands were beginning to shake because of it.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘You don't have to …’
‘You just aren't accustomed to the novelty of a woman actually disliking you,’ she scorned.
‘Maybe later,’ he drawled. ‘But not usually on sight.’
She didn't need to ask what he meant by ‘later'. His hard good looks and lighthearted flirting might not appeal to her, but she could imagine a lot of women would be reluctant to give him up once they had known him. ‘I must just be the exception,’ she dismissed, standing up to put some distance between them.
‘And maybe you aren't.’ Zack stood up too. ‘Let's see, shall we?’ He moved purposefully towards her.
Her eyes widened in panic, and she stepped back to avoid him. ‘No …!’
‘Yes.’