The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress

Anger turned his vision bright red. Leaving his parents with Heath, he stalked forward. The doors slid open and cool, dank night air rushed against his face.

The doors hissed closed behind him. Ahead lay the almost-empty car park. Alyssa didn’t spare him a glance.

He drew a deep, steadying breath. “You came with me. How do you propose to leave?”

She brandished a cell phone. “I’ve called a cab—I need to collect my car from your home.”

“You can’t be intending to drive back to Auckland tonight?”

“Don’t worry, there’s not a drop of alcohol in my system.” She gave him a sideways glance. “But, no, I won’t be leaving tonight. I want to stay near Roland.”

He drew another, deeper breath and forced himself not to react. Instead he said as calmly as he could manage, “You must be freezing. Here, take my jacket.” He started to shrug off the black dinner jacket he’d grabbed before they’d left the homestead.

But she said, “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’ve got gooseflesh.” He touched the skin on her upper arms, and she leapt away as if he’d singed her.

“I don’t need it. The taxi will be here in a moment.”

“You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

She stilled. “Okay, thank you.”

He slid the jacket off. It sounded as if it had taken a lot for her to accept his offer of help. Contrary damn woman. Watching her wind the jacket around herself, he relaxed a little as the pale tempting flesh disappeared out of sight.

“Where will you stay?”

Her mouth curled. “Don’t worry, you won’t need to track me down. I’ll return it to you tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

She named a popular hotel in town.

“And you’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Part of him wanted her to leave, never come back. He couldn’t help the ridiculous superstitious stab of dread that her arrival had heralded Roland’s accident. But there was another part of him, the sybaritic pagan part, who wanted to see her again. Touch her again. Kiss her again.

For one reckless instant he considered doing just that. It would be so easy. One tug, and she’d be up against his chest. He’d feel her body warm against his, he’d taste her lips under his mouth. The cold that froze him inside might seep away under her touch … her kisses.

And then he’d despise himself for it. He shook his head to clear it.

Maybe Alyssa Blake was a witch.

“I might leave tomorrow. It depends.” Alyssa gave him a sideways glance.

But Joshua barely heard. He frowned as he took in her red-rimmed eyes, the silvery stains on her cheeks where the wind had already dried the tears. “You’ve been crying.”

Quickly she averted her face.

“Why?”

The look she gave him revealed too little. Secrets, he thought suddenly. He glanced through the glass doors and his gaze landed on Amy, curled up in the chair, her face wearing an expression of intense misery.

His gaze came back to Alyssa and narrowed. Instead of drowning her, his dinner jacket simply increased her upmarket city sexiness. She was gorgeous, stylish, smart. The kind of woman Roland had always dated before he’d become engaged to Amy….

And Amy had been upset earlier this evening—she and Roland had fought, even though it was common knowledge they never fought. The uncertain suspicion coalesced into certainty.

Alyssa had been having an affair with Roland.

She must have confronted Roland during the evening, and Amy had found out.

It wasn’t important, Alyssa had said when Joshua asked her about her conversation with his brother. He’d known from the flicker in her eyes that she’d been lying. The conversation had been very important.

And now Roland was unconscious….

No wonder Alyssa was upset. Did she feel responsible for causing her lover’s accident?

Did she love his brother?

He raked his hands through his hair as unruly thoughts churned round and round in his overwrought brain. “Who invited you to the ball tonight? You weren’t on the list of official guests—it had to be a personal invitation.” From Roland?

“I didn’t have an invitation. I gate-crashed.” There was defiance in her gaze.

Then she turned away. He heard what she had, the sound of the taxi pulling up at the curb.

But all he could think about was that Roland hadn’t invited her. Or she could be lying. Again. “Why? What did you hope to achieve?”

She didn’t answer and started to move away.

“Tell me, dammit.” Without thought, he reached for her. His hands closed over her shoulders covered with the fine fabric of his jacket. He glared down into her blank features, her lashes lying long and dark against her cheeks. “Tell me!”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Had she tried to break up Roland’s engagement? He struggled to read the beautiful, frozen face. “I think it does.”

She didn’t answer. He slid his hands down and circled her wrists, gave them a shake to get her to meet his gaze.

Wrapped in his jacket, she stood unmoving. And strangely that made him even angrier. He wanted her to object to his hold, he wanted her to struggle, to see her eyes spit fire at him; he didn’t like the limp arms in his grasp, the listlessness in her eyes.

So he softened his grasp and said with quiet menace, “What did you want at Saxon’s Folly tonight?”

She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.”

He heard the taxi door open.

“Ma’am, did you book the taxi?”

He looked over her shoulder. “The lady’s not ready to leave yet.”

“But I am,” she murmured.

His brows drew together. “I want an answer before you go. What did you want?”

What had happened between her and Roland? Had Roland sent her away—was that why she’d kissed him out in the garden? To get back at Roland? Was that why she’d landed in his bed?

As revenge against his brother?

He didn’t like that idea at all. Yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to release her arm. The pain in her eyes damn near killed him.

He’d never envied his older brother, but now he did.

Whatever happened, if Roland survived the hours of surgery that lay ahead, Joshua wasn’t going to allow Alyssa to rekindle whatever affair she and Roland had going. He told himself that his resolve had nothing to do with the wild feeling that Alyssa had aroused in him; he had Amy to think about. Sweet Amy who was expecting to marry Roland in two months’ time.

Behind him he heard the doors whisper open.

“Joshua?”

He turned and glared at Heath. “What?”

“Mother wants you.”

Alyssa pulled free. “I’ll get your jacket back to you tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the damn jacket.” Inside he seethed. “This conversation is not finished. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She wouldn’t flee town overnight, not while the outcome of Roland’s surgery was unknown. Secure in that knowledge he turned on his heel and followed his brother back into the hospital.

It was going to be a long night.

The sound of her cell phone ringing shattered Alyssa’s restless sleep. The compressing darkness of the hotel room lay like a heavy blanket around her.

It would be Joshua calling to finish the conversation he’d started outside the emergency room. Alyssa dragged herself upright. She wasn’t ready for this confrontation. Then she spotted the green digital numerals of the clock radio and her heart jolted with fear. Four-thirty in the morning. Too early to be Joshua.

Her hand trembling, she picked up the phone.

“Where are you staying?” Little composure remained in Kay Saxon’s voice.

Alyssa’s heart slammed against her ribs in fear as she automatically gave Kay the information she sought. “Is Roland okay?” she asked shakily.

There was an ominous silence. Then Kay said, “I’ll send a cab. You need to come now.” The phone went dead.

It had to be bad.

With few alternatives—the red dress or a pin-striped business suit—Alyssa threw on the pair of baggy sweats and sweater she’d worn for the drive down to Hawkes Bay and was downstairs in minutes. By the time the lights of the cab cut through the dark gray pre-dawn light she was already out on the sidewalk.

Too soon she’d reached the white hospital building. Inside, everything was quiet. She made for the front desk. “Where will I find Roland Saxon?”

“Are you Alice?” A nurse came around the desk at her silent nod. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”

Sick with anxiety, Alyssa was led through double-seal doors into a unit filled with beeps and a sense of life-and-death gravity. At the sound of hissing as the ventilator rose and fell, fear shafted through Alyssa.

She took in the couple hovering by the bed.

Kay and Phillip Saxon.

On a high bed lay a prone figure wrapped in dressings, attached to the life-support machines, an oxygen mask over his face, so swollen that he was rendered unrecognizable. Only the shock of red hair sticking out from the head dressing revealed that this was Roland.

“You have five minutes,” the nurse whispered. “Only family are supposed to be here—and only two at a time. I’ve already stretched the rules.” Then she was gone in a rustle of starch.

Kay Saxon turned, her eyes puffy. She’d aged in the past few hours. “I’m glad you made it.”

“How is he?”

“He’s unconscious. I’m not sure how much is induced—”

Alyssa said desperately, “But he’s going to be all right.”

He had to be.

Kay took her hands. “The doctors don’t think so. That’s why I called you. I couldn’t live with myself if—” Her voice broke.

Cold dread suffocated Alyssa. “They think he’s going to die?”

Kay hesitated. “They told us to call anyone who might want to see him. They warned us to prepare for the worst.”

Her world crashed in. Alyssa fell to her knees, stretching her hands to touch the heavily bandaged hands of the man in the bed.

Her brother.

Her brother who was dying.

Kay sniffed behind her, but Alyssa was crying so hard she couldn’t think.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to have ended.

She was to see him tomorrow. Today. She’d been looking forward to reuniting with the brother she’d been searching for since she was eighteen.

“Nooo!” It was a wail of anguish.

Then Kay was holding her and murmuring to her not to cry because it might upset Roland. As Alyssa’s tears subsided, Kay pulled away. “Alyssa, the boys are coming, and I don’t want them to find you here. Phillip and I don’t want to have to answer their questions. Please, for our sakes—for Roland’s sake—will you go now?”

Before Alyssa could answer, the nurse was there, waiting to escort her out.

She wanted to beg for more time. Her throat closed. The words didn’t come. Finally, she swallowed and managed to speak. “Give me one minute. To say—” her voice cracked “—goodbye.”

Kay nodded and waved off the nurse.

Alyssa bent forward, her lips colder than ice as they brushed the forehead of the man in the bed. She noticed a drip of liquid on his forehead. Water? Another splash. No—tears, she realised. Her tears.

Closing her eyes she prayed. For Roland. For herself. For a miracle. For all the years they’d missed. Then she kissed him and murmured, “Au revoir.”

Blinded by tears, she turned for the door, the room a blur.

Joshua hurried toward the hospital elevator, Heath and his younger sister, Megan, flanking him on either side. The panel above the elevator doors showed that a car was already descending and Joshua found himself drumming his fingers as they waited for the doors to open. Hurry. Hurry.

The doors opened. A nurse exited. Then Joshua saw Alyssa coming out. “How did you get here?”

“In a cab.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He turned to his brother and sister. “You go ahead, I’ll see you upstairs.”

While he waited for the elevator to depart, he inspected Alyssa’s features, taking in the hollows under her eyes, the lack of makeup and the way her glorious hair had been pulled back from her face, as though she’d gotten ready in a hurry. In the tatty sweats she looked nothing like the sophisticated woman he’d met … was it only last night?

“What are you doing here?”

Her eyes flicked away from his. “I came to find out if there was any news about Roland’s condition.”

Joshua’s mouth tightened; he suspected she was dissembling. The suspicion of earlier was back in full force. “Why are you so upset? What’s Roland to you?”

She shook her head and didn’t answer.

Joshua couldn’t help thinking about Amy, brokenhearted and sedated for shock. “Heath had to give Amy a sleeping tablet. He’s left her at his home, with his housekeeper watching over her. How could you, Alyssa?”

Alyssa let her hands drop and stared at him blankly.

“She and Roland are getting married in two months. Now it’s all gone to hell because you couldn’t stay away from Roland.”

“What?” Her eyes were stretched wide.

Joshua frowned at the shock in her eyes. He’d surprised himself with the outburst. Normally nothing fazed him. He was the boss—people came to him for guidance and advice. Yet right now he felt like raging at her. For sure he was losing it.

And she was the catalyst.

He pushed a hand through his hair. “Why did you have to come to the ball last night and cause trouble? Was it worth it? Was it worth telling Amy about your relationship with Roland?”

“I didn’t tell Amy a thing.”

Joshua relaxed slightly. So Amy didn’t know that Roland and Alyssa were lovers. But surely Amy must have suspected Roland was embroiled in a heated affair with a woman because Joshua certainly had. All the signs had been there. The constant visits to Auckland, the cell calls that his brother took privately while talking in a low, intimate voice. By not denying her clandestine relationship with Roland, Alyssa had confirmed the suspicions he’d had about his brother for months.

“You must know that if Amy found out about you, it would devastate her. Not to say what it would do to my parents to discover that Roland had been two-timing Amy, their goddaughter. Right now they need to think about all the good things he’s achieved.”

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You think—” She broke off.

Joshua waited for her to refute that she’d been attempting to seduce Roland away from Amy. Deep down, he wanted that denial. Even though he knew it would be a lie. Instead she stood shifting from foot to foot, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil.

Raking his hands through his already ruffled hair, he sighed. “It would be better if you left now and returned to Auckland.”

“I haven’t got your jacket here—it’s back in my hotel room.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care about the jacket. I want you gone.”

She said flatly, “I’m not going until—” her throat moved as she swallowed “—until it’s all over. But Amy needn’t worry, I won’t be staying a second more than I have to. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Not wanted? Joshua suppressed the urge to groan. He wanted the woman standing in front of him more than he’d ever desired a woman in his life. But no good could come out of it. Not only had she assassinated his character in print, she’d been his brother’s lover.

And he had no intention of following in Roland’s well-worn footsteps.

Four

Alyssa felt terrible.

Joshua thought she and Roland had been lovers. Worse, he believed she’d come to Saxon’s Folly to steal Roland away from his fiancée. She bit her lip to stop herself blurting out the truth. How could she refute what he believed without revealing the truth about her relationship to Roland?

Yesterday, just before midnight, his parents had demanded that she leave; now Joshua was ordering her to go, too. A sense of hurt settled around her. The sooner she got away from here, the sooner she could retreat to the solitary comfort of her Auckland apartment and lick her wounds in private.

But for now she had to shrug off the hurt. This morning she would hold vigil for as long as necessary. Because this wasn’t about her. It was about her brother.

“Nothing to say?”

The words jerked her attention back to Joshua. He was watching her through dark, suspicious eyes.

“You should go upstairs,” she said quietly. “You don’t want to miss what might be your only chance to say goodbye to Roland because you wasted time arguing with me.” The thought of her brother lying there with little chance of regaining consciousness was unbearable … heartbreaking … and she sniffed back the fresh wave of tears.

“Do you love him very much?” Joshua’s voice held a strange tone.

“Yes, I love him a great deal.” Alyssa didn’t look at him in case he read the depth of the loss and confusion in her eyes. Instead she stared at her feet and noticed that the laces of her left sneaker had come undone. What was a lace? So unimportant in the greater scheme of things.

“He never mentioned you.”

She sighed. How tricky this had all become. Clearly Roland hadn’t wanted his brothers to know that he wasn’t a Saxon by birth. Now, because of her promise to Kay Saxon and out of her respect to her brother, she couldn’t tell Joshua the truth—even though she desperately wanted to. They’d connected on some primal level, she and Joshua. She didn’t like lying to him. Finally she settled for, “We hadn’t known each other very long.”

One brief meeting last night … she’d shaken Roland’s hand. And this morning she’d touched his unconscious body.

From the old cuttings in the town’s archives she knew he’d played rugby as a boy and captained his team to a regional win. She’d shuddered in fear as she’d watched television footage of Roland as a late teen riding his horse over solid fences with a determination that had won him numerous eventing titles. An article in a wine magazine had said Roland joked that he’d liked fast women and good wine. Alyssa had wondered what Amy had thought about that! A recent appearance on a lifestyle television programme hosted by a pretty blonde had revealed that he wore jeans with panache. Every last fact she could glean about him, she had uncovered.

Yet Roland didn’t know her at all.

“Maybe he didn’t say anything because he knew you wouldn’t be pleased with his friendship with Alyssa Blake, despised journalist.” Now, through desperation, she’d cornered herself into an outright lie. Before last night’s meeting, Roland had only known her from the letters and e-mails … written in the name of Alice McKay.

“Friends?”

Joshua looked her up and down in a way that made her regret donning the ancient sweats. A disturbing prickle of awareness followed in the wake of his gaze. She shut it out ruthlessly. “Yes, friends. Why not?”

“I can accept that Roland didn’t want us to know he was sleeping with you.” Joshua’s lip curled. “First, because he knows I think you’re a hack writer and have no respect for you after that hatchet job you did. And sec—”

“Hack?” She glared at him in outrage. “I only did—”

He held up a hand. “Let me finish. Second, I’m sure Roland didn’t mention you because you’re of little importance—certainly not worth losing Amy over.” Joshua gave her a long, hard stare. “Roland was always a bit of a ladies’ man. But I’m not going to let Amy be hurt.”

Alyssa drew a deep, steadying breath and counted silently to three before saying slowly and distinctly, “I have absolutely no intention of hurting Amy.”

“Good. Then we understand each other.” Joshua stabbed the button to summon the elevator. “You’re trouble. As long as you keep far away from Saxon’s Folly, my family—and Amy—everything will be fine!”

“You should go and see Roland,” she said with urgency.

He gave her a snooty look. “My brother has the luck of the devil—he’s a survivor.”

Alyssa prayed to God that he was right. But his words caused a flare of hope. Joshua knew his brother. If he thought Roland might live …

“And when he’s out of here, you stay far away from him.”

No chance.

Joshua blamed her for the argument between Amy and Roland last night. She thought about the pretty TV-show hostess who’d interviewed Roland only a month ago. Alyssa had gone to see her. The woman had giggled that Roland was a great lover—and lamented the fact that he was already taken. Not that it had stopped him, she’d added, giving Alyssa a lascivious smile.

Maybe Amy had quarrelled with him over the hostess, but it wasn’t up to Alyssa to reveal that scandal to Joshua. It might turn her stomach having Joshua accuse her of being Roland’s lover … but no one except she and his parents knew how vile that accusation really was.

She wasn’t the troublemaker Joshua had branded her.

Alyssa started as the elevator pinged beside her and the doors slid open. “Think what you want about me—I don’t care,” she said at last, suppressing the sting of his words.

Joshua strode into the waiting elevator. His gaze swept over her, cool and dismissive. “I’m sure you don’t care about anything except yourself.”

Alyssa decided that it was just as well she could seethe over Joshua’s departing comments while she sat in the hospital café drinking stale coffee. But under her fuming she still fretted about how Roland was faring upstairs in that sterile ward.

Drained of all emotion, Joshua paused in the entrance of the coffee-cum-flower shop in the hospital lobby. His eyes burned. After almost twenty-four hours awake, he needed a shower, a change of clothing and sleep.

But right now there were other things—important things—to which he needed to attend.

His chest expanded as he hauled in a deep breath.

And the first that needed sorting was sitting at a table beside a rack of magazines, staring into a coffee cup, a napkin crumpled in her fist. Some sixth sense must have alerted Alyssa to his presence because her hand tightened around the mangled, once-white napkin and she looked up.

The vulnerability in her eyes vanished the instant she spotted him, replaced by wariness. Okay, so this conversation wasn’t going to be easy. But it couldn’t be delayed. He started forward.

“Alice—” No, not Alice. “Alyssa,” he corrected himself. He’d kissed Alice. He’d never willingly touch Alyssa. “My mother sent me to tell you …” He broke off and swallowed the burning bile at the back of his throat.

She was on her feet, her hand against her mouth. “Roland … is he conscious? Can I see him?”

He shook his head. An appalling sorrow splintered inside his chest. There was frustration and bewilderment, too.

“Why? Just for a few minutes? Please?”

Her eyes were wide, beseeching. As much as he disliked her, it was clear that she loved his brother, that she’d do anything, even beg, to be with him. Damnation! This was more difficult than he’d expected.

His legs carried him to her without his realising it. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Alyssa—”

Her hand touched his sleeve. He flinched, and she jerked it away.

“I won’t make waves. I won’t do anything to cause Amy anxiety. I just want to see my—Roland.” She was frantically shredding what was left of the paper towel.

He caught her flailing hands and tossed the napkin on the table, hating what he had to do. “Alyssa, you don’t understand. Roland is dead.”

“What?” She rocked on her feet, looking as if she was about to faint.

“Steady.” He moved closer, shifting his hold to her shoulders, propping her up with his body.

Her eyes were wide, staring. Shocked. Little flecks of black floated in the unseeing smoky purple irises.

“Alyssa?”

“Is it true?” She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, looking shaken to the soul.

Joshua nodded, swept by a wave of terrible pity. She’d said she loved his brother. Had Roland known the depth of her love? Had he even appreciated it? Joshua doubted it. But he couldn’t afford to relent. Family came first.