Playing at Love

‘So he did come, then?’

‘Yes. I take it that you called him?’ He sighed at her nod. ‘There wasn’t any need. He couldn’t give me anything, just told me to drink as much fluid as I could. I just wish I didn’t feel so damned hot.’

‘You’re bound to while your body is still fighting the effects of that squid.’ Automatically she ran a hand down the firm muscles on his upper am, testing the heat of his skin. ‘You could do with sponging down.’

‘If that’s an offer, then I’ll take you up on it.’ He closed his eyes, looking so helpless for a moment that Louise barely stopped to consider what she was doing. She cast one quick glance at him, then hurried through to the bathroom and filled the basin to soak one of the washcloths in cool water. His eyes were still closed when she walked back into the bedroom, but they opened when she started to wipe the cloth over his face and down the strong column of his neck.

‘That feels good,’ he murmured huskily, his pale blue eyes so light and clear in the faint light from the window that they looked like washed silver. ‘You have a marvellous touch, Miss Carter, although I imagine that there have been many men who’ve told you that.’

Her hand stilled for a second, her fingers resting lightly against the base of his neck, where she could feel a pulse tapping steadily. Had there been just the faintest hint of double meaning in that? But if so, what?

‘Surely you’re not shy about carrying on with your ministrations?’

The husky question woke her from the trance and her hand moved on, sliding the damp cloth across his shoulders, back and forth, taking the heat out of his skin. She forced the momentary unsettling thought to the back of her mind, smiling calmly down at him. ‘No, I’m not shy. I must have done this hundreds of times, Mr...’ She laughed faintly, suddenly conscious of how ludicrous the situation was. ‘Do you know that I don’t have any idea what your name is?’

‘No?’ He raised one dark brow in that mocking way she was learning to recognise, if not understand, then slowly his heavy lids lowered and he settled himself deeper into the pillows. ‘Wyatt. That’s my name. Wyatt.’

‘Well, then, Mr Wyatt, just lie still and rest. There’s no need to feel embarrassed about letting me help you. It’s just a sensible precaution to lower that temperature of yours.’

‘Oh, I’m not embarrassed, Miss Carter. Far from it. I’m sure that you are very experienced in this kind of thing. I shall enjoy reaping the benefits of that.’

The conversation was turning into a riddle, twisting and turning backwards and forwards so that she wasn’t certain what he was saying. A frown puckered her brow, but she carried on sponging him down, her hands moving smoothly and confidently as she stroked the damp cloth over his skin time and again until the steady, measured sound of his breathing told her that he had fallen asleep.

She ran a hand lightly over his chest and shoulders, then felt his forehead with the back of her knuckles. He was much cooler now, his skin barely warmer than her own. Obviously it had done the trick, but she was well aware that his temperature could rise again very quickly, undoing all her good work. She’d wait a while to see how he was then.

She tossed the wet cloth on to the bedside table, then went and sat down in the chair by the window and ran a hand wearily over her face as tiredness enveloped her. She yawned then grimaced, fighting to keep her eyes open and not give in to the almost overwhelming desire to fall asleep. There would be time enough for that later, once she was sure that he was all right. She could go back to her room and sleep the clock round...

CHAPTER TWO

THIS time it was a knock at the door that disturbed her. Louise muttered crossly, keeping her eyes tightly closed as she tried to blot out the irritating sound.

‘Can you get that if you’re awake?’

The deeply masculine voice roused her in a trice. She sat bolt upright, then groaned as her head spun with dizziness. For a blank second she stared down at the chair she was sitting in, then looked round the room she’d been using for almost a week now, confused by the strangeness of it all. Why was the door suddenly on the opposite side of the room? And surely that picture above the tall chest of drawers had been of flowers last time she’d looked, not birds?

Puzzled, her eyes moved on, taking stock of the furnishings, the huge double bed... Her heart leapt into her throat, beating so hard that for a moment she was afraid she would suffocate. Slowly, reluctantly, her gaze slid back to the satin bedspread and travelled across it inch by disbelieving inch. There wasn’t a double bed in her room, so where was she?

The question was quickly followed by the answer—approximately six feet of answer, to be precise. For a stunned minute Louise just stared at the man who emerged from the bathroom, a white towel fastened low around his lean hips. Then in a fast, heart-shaking sweep her eyes ran from the top of his damp black hair to the tips of his naked feet before coming back to rest helplessly on his face.

‘The door,’ he repeated slowly, and icily. ‘Do you think you can answer it?’

‘I...’ Louise scrambled to her feet, staring blankly round the room, and heard him mutter something uncomplimentary as he strode past her. She ran a trembling hand over her hot face, trying to make sense of what was happening, and almost groaned aloud as she remembered the events of the previous night. How could she have been so careless as to let herself fall asleep like that?

‘Surprise! Wyatt, darling, I know I should have called first, but I was just dying to see you, so...here I am!’

The breathlessly eager note in the woman’s voice made Louise wince with embarrassment, although she knew that she was in no position to criticise. She took a slow breath and forced herself to turn towards the door, studying the vision of female beauty who stood framed in its opening. Perfect blonde hair, perfect smooth, pale skin, perfect tailored white trousers and navy spotted blouse, everything about the woman was perfect—too perfect, in fact She looked like a mannequin as she stood there, resting one slender pink-tipped hand on the man’s bare shoulder as she smiled up at him.

‘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 tangling in the thick curls of hair as she twisted one slowly and, she hoped, lovingly around her finger as she stared up at him with the most limpidly besotted expression she could muster. ‘It’s good to know that you have such understanding friends, darling. I’m sure Carling and I will find a lot in common once we get to know one another better.’

His eyes were murderous as he grasped her wandering hand and held it so hard that Louise had to bite back a moan of pain. ‘I’m sure you will, my love. However, now isn’t really the time to start building on that friendship. I’m sure Carling will understand if we cut short this meeting.’

‘Of course.’ Carling laughed lightly, a tinkly sound that grated on Louise’s nerves. ‘I’m sure Louise is just dying for me to leave so that she can get showered and changed.’ She shuddered delicately as she smoothed a hand over her perfect blonde mane of hair. ‘There’s nothing worse than being caught out, is there, Louise?’

Up until then Louise had barely spared a thought for her appearance; now she was suddenly achingly conscious of the tumbled state of her dark curls, the naked shine of her bare face, the creases in the blue gown and robe she’d fallen asleep in. She lifted a hand to smooth one stray curl back from her face, then dropped it again as she saw the expression of triumph on the other girl’s face. As Carling swept towards the door she paused in the doorway. ‘So I’ll leave you to get sorted out now. Don’t forget that we’re expecting you tonight, Wyatt. And Louise, of course. Daddy is going to be thrilled when I tell him about your engagement. I’m sure he will want to organise some sort of a party while you’re with us on Paradise. Ciao.’

The door closed softly, the sound echoing almost painfully in the sudden silence. Louise took one long deep breath, then another for good measure, then pushed herself out of Wyatt Lord’s arms.

‘I don’t know what that was all about, Mr Lord,’ she began stormily, twin spots of colour burning angrily in her cheeks, ‘and I don’t think I really want to know! I just want to tell you that I have never...never...been so...so...insulted in the whole of my life!’

‘No?’ He raised a mocking brow, his eyes cold as they skimmed her flushed face. ‘If you carry on living the way you have been, then I’m sure time will remedy that.’

He turned to walk back through to the bathroom, but Louise caught his arm, her fingers leaving white pressure marks against his tanned skin. ‘And what do you mean by that? Look, you’ve done nothing but throw veiled insults at me since we met, but why?’

‘I think this discussion can wait until I’m dressed, don’t you?’

She hung on tightly, her face burning with anger as she glared back at him. ‘It’s not waiting for anything! Understand? I spent the best part of the night here taking care of you, and all I get for my pains is insults, and I want to know why. The same as I want to know what you thought you were doing telling that woman that we...we...’

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words, but he had none of her reservations. ‘Slept together? Come on, why put on this little act? Outraged virginal modesty sits oddly on your shoulders, Louise. Why pretend that we don’t both know what you’re up to here in this hotel?’ He held her gaze for a second, then removed the towel from around his hips, smiling coldly at her shocked gasp as he strode naked as the day he was born to the wardrobe and pulled out underwear and jeans and a pale blue T-shirt.

He stepped into a pair of white boxer shorts, watching her steadily as he drew them up around his slim hips. ‘What, no more maidenly protests? Of course not. You’ve probably seen more men naked than a dozen women would see in their lifetime, isn’t that right? So let’s stop all this play-acting, shall we?’

Too late Louise realised that she’d been standing there staring at him. She spun round, closing her eyes as she tried to compose herself again, but all she could see behind her closed lids was a picture of Wyatt Lord standing there naked, his broad chest tanned under the thick pelt of hair, his hips paler than the rest of his body. She swallowed down a soft moan of protest, then turned round to face him again, knowing that somehow they had to sort this mess out.

‘Yes, I’ve seen men naked before, but that doesn’t mean that I appreciate your acting this way. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this sort of treatment, Mr Lord; I don’t really care. All I want is for you to set the record straight and tell Carling Hutton the truth.’

He zipped the jeans, then pulled the T-shirt over his head, finger-combing the thick, glossy strands of black hair back into place. ‘That is something I have no intention of doing. I’m quite happy to have her think that she interrupted a tender little scene here in this room.’

‘But why?’ Louise ran a shaking hand over the creased folds of the thin blue robe, her fingers worrying the soft fabric. ‘I just don’t understand any of this, not what you told that woman, nor all the horrible things you keep on saying to me.’

‘The truth hurts, eh? It’s easier just to pass off what you’re doing without really thinking about it, isn’t it?’ His eyes traced her slender body with open contempt. ‘You are a beautiful woman, Louise, but you don’t need me to tell you that. You are well aware of your own charms, and use them.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘No? Then explain to me why you are staying in this hotel, a hotel that caters for a clientele far older than you. You must be...what, twenty-three...four?’ At her nod he continued, ‘Are you really here just to enjoy a holiday in luxurious and peaceful surroundings, as the hotel brochure boasts? Or are you here to use that beauty of yours to ensnare some rich old man who’ll provide you with the luxury you want from life?’

‘What? No!’ Horrified, she stared back at him. ‘You’ve got it wrong! I can’t imagine where you got such a ridiculous idea from!’

‘Can’t you? Not so ridiculous when I have seen and heard evidence to back up every word I just said.’

‘What evidence? What are you talking about?’

He folded his arms and leant easily against the wardrobe. ‘You should be more careful, Louise, if you hope to maintain this pretence of innocence. You forget that our rooms adjoin and that sound carries through the walls.’ He raised a dark brow, then continued when she made no attempt to speak. ‘The day I moved into this room I heard you—how shall I put it delicately?—entertaining a gentleman friend. Monday, it was. Then there’s been all the frequent comings and goings to your room at odd hours, coincidentally by a gentleman of advanced years. I heard him talking about you by the pool the other day. It was most enlightening. He was most complimentary about your sensitive hands and your touch like an angel, if I remember his words correctly.’ He shook his head so that the light from the window bounced flashes of blue fire off its raven darkness. ‘I never imagined that it was possible to come up with so many glowing compliments, but he managed it. He seems truly besotted, so all it needs now is for you to choose your time and then get him well and truly hooked.’

Louise stared at him in dumb silence when he stopped speaking, her mind racing in a dozen different directions as it made sense out of what he’d said, but a far different sense than he’d made!

The man he was talking about, a certain Mr Holden, had fallen and cut his leg badly on the way to the airport. Louise had sat next to him and his wife on the flight over and offered to change the dressings when his wife had confessed that she hated the sight of blood! The cut had been healing nicely, thanks to her attentions and the frequent changes of dressings.

It was such an innocent explanation to a far from innocent accusation, leaving only the mystery of her ‘entertaining’ in her room, and that could be explained very simply: Carol and Simon. Louise had found them in the room when she’d got back from a solo sightseeing tour on Monday, and had steadfastly turned a blind eye to their rapturous expressions!

It was all so simple to explain in just a few brief sentences, yet, looking at Wyatt Lord, Louise knew without the shadow of a doubt that he would never believe her. He seemed determined to see her in the worst light possible, although for the life of her she couldn’t understand why.

‘Look, Mr Lord, you seem to have got an entirely wrong impression here.’

‘Wyatt.’ He stood up straight, flexing the heavy muscles in his shoulders. ‘You may as well get used to calling me that right from the start. And to answer your statement, Louise, I don’t think I’ve got anything wrong. On the contrary I can see quite clearly what’s been going on here in this hotel.’

He was so pigheadedly arrogant! He’d formed this ridiculous opinion of her, and nothing, not even the truth, was going to make him change his mind. Louise drew herself up to her full five feet five and glared back at him. ‘I can see it’s pointless trying to talk to you. You’re entitled to your opinions, but it’s just a pity if they are the wrong ones.’ She started to walk past him, stopping abruptly when he caught her arm. ‘Do you mind?’ she demanded haughtily, staring down at his large hand fastened around her forearm. ‘I want to go back to my room. This discussion is over and done with as far as I’m concerned.’

He nodded agreement, but made no attempt to free her. ‘If you mean that you’ve accepted that it’s pointless to keep on with that little pretence of innocence, then that’s correct. However, there are other matters we need to discuss right now, Louise, namely our rather abrupt engagement.’

She froze, her eyes locked on the darkness of his skin against the pale creamy tan of her own before they lifted to meet his. ‘Pardon?’

‘I think you heard me all right.’

‘Oh, I heard, it’s just the understanding I’m having difficulty with.’ She twisted her arm, but achieved little apart from bruising her flesh. Anger rose hot and swift as it rode on the wake of the pain, and she glared at him. ‘Watch my lips, Mister Lord, then perhaps you will understand what I am saying: we are not engaged! I don’t know what sort of a game you were playing just now and I don’t really care. Now let me go.’

‘Not yet. Not until you understand what I am saying.’ He pushed her back so that she sat down abruptly on the bed, towering in front of her as he glared down into her furious face. ‘I have told Carling Hutton that we are engaged, and that is what I intend her to believe. I am in the middle of negotiations to buy this chain of hotels from Carling’s father, and I don’t intend for anything to disrupt that! Unfortunately, though, Carling has been getting ideas that she and I would make the perfect couple, ideas that her father would be only too delighted to go along with. Carling is the apple of his eyes; what she wants she gets, and pity help the man who crosses her. I want these hotels to add to the others I own, and I intend to have them, but I don’t intend to pay the ultimate price by marrying Carling. That’s where you come in.’