Playing at Love Read online

Page 10


  ‘So you want to play games, do you, sweetheart? Well, then, that’s fine by me.’

  The laughter curdled into a hard lump in her throat, and Louise spun round in alarm. ‘I... You shouldn’t have mocked me. It was your own fault, Wyatt. Wyatt!’

  Her voice rose to a shriek as he caught her by the waist and lifted her high above his head then tossed her into the water. Louise struggled back to the surface, coughing and spitting water, then turned and started swimming for the side as she spotted him coming towards her again. ‘No, Wyatt. Stop it!’ Grimly she clung to the slippery rim of the pool, panting as she tried to suck in enough air to lever herself out of the water.

  ‘But you started it, Louise. You were the one who wanted to play water games.’ He swam up beside her, his dark hair slicked to his skull, his eyelashes spiky with water as he grinned wolfishly at her. ‘Don’t tell me you’re giving up already. I thought you had more spunk than that.’

  She glared back at him, kicking her legs to keep afloat, although he was tall enough to stand on the bottom. He should have looked ridiculous with his clothes still on, the blue shirt sticking to his muscular torso, the pale grey trousers swaying in the flow of water, but he looked less ridiculous than dangerous with that glitter in his eyes, and Louise felt a curl of excitement run down her spine, which she tried her hardest to suppress. ‘It isn’t a question of spunk! You don’t play fair.’

  He laughed deeply, a rumble of sound that sent an echoing tingle through her body. ‘And you do? Dragging me in wasn’t what I’d call fair. You saw your chance and took it. Fairness had nothing whatsoever to do with it, as it hasn’t with a lot of things in life. It seems that you and I are alike in many ways.’ He reached out to smooth a wet curl behind her ear, his fingers tracing the delicate curve before sliding slowly down the slender length of her throat to curl around her shoulder and draw her gently to him. ‘I wonder if that’s part of the reason why we are so attracted to one another.’

  ‘No! Stop that, Wyatt.’ His name was on her lips as he suddenly bent and took her mouth in a kiss that seemed too achingly gentle to be real. There was none of the harshness from before, no sense that he was trying to punish her this time. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, in a way that sent a surge of joy racing through her.

  ‘Wyatt.’ She repeated his name like a prayer as he raised his head and stared solemnly down at her, and saw him smile in understanding as he traced the soft, wet curve of her cheek.

  ‘Yes, Louise?’ His fingers were moving across her shoulder now, skimming so lightly yet so devastatingly along the fine bones, before they moved to the soft swell of her breast above the neck of her plain black swimsuit and stopped.

  ‘I...I...’ Deep down in some tiny place where common sense still had a hold, she knew she should stop what was happening now before it went too far, but somehow it seemed impossible to make that decision as he repeated her name in a way that seemed to have a strange kind of magic, a hint of promise that made her yearn for something that could never be. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she stared helplessly back at him and whispered softly, ‘Don’t do this, Wyatt.’

  ‘Don’t do...what?’ He moved closer, his thighs brushing hers as he closed the gap between them, steadying her body with his own against the pull of the water.

  ‘Don’t make me...want you.’ Her voice was so low that it barely carried above the soft sigh of the breeze in the trees, but he must have heard her because he stilled at once, every muscle going rigid. Louise drew in a gulping, sobbing breath and stared down at the water, watching it swirling around her legs, gently moving her against him. She seemed to have lost all control over her emotions, seemed to be drifting back and forth, from side to side, like the water. What happened next was up to him; he held control over her destiny, as he’d held it since the first moment they’d met, she suddenly realised.

  ‘Can I do that? Can I make you want me as much as I want you, Louise?’ There was a harshness to his voice that brought her head up, and she gasped when she saw the naked desire glittering in his eyes. For a moment the whole world seemed to stand still, waiting upon her answer, and Wyatt seemed to sense it too. His jaw clenched, his hands moving up to her shoulders to hold her in front of him as he stared into her widened eyes. ‘Tell me the truth, Louise. Tell me!’

  She didn’t want to tell him how she felt, didn’t want finally to admit to herself that the desire she felt for this man went beyond the bounds of logic or reason. He had used her, treated her abominably, yet she still wanted him, so help her. ‘I...I... Yes!’

  His hands contracted, crushing her flesh until she almost cried out with the pain he was unconsciously inflicting, then his head came down and he took her mouth in a burning kiss that left no room for thoughts of anything other than the desire she could feel surging between them. His mouth plundered hers, demanding a response she was both eager and willing to give as all the pain and frustration welled up and found an outlet in this rawly primitive passion that flared between them.

  ‘Wyatt!’ His name was beautiful on her lips now, the most heady sound she’d ever heard, filling her with a sense of joy. She repeated it again and again, then repeated it silently inside her head as he kissed her again with a drugging tenderness that made the blood throb heavily through her veins. When his tongue slid between her lips to tangle with hers she moaned sharply, helplessly, and felt him still as though in shock. He drew back from her, his pale eyes glittering wildly, his face flushed as he stared into her passion-drugged eyes.

  ‘No. Don’t stop. Please, Wyatt.’ She was barely conscious of what she was saying, her body aching, on fire with desire for him.

  He smiled gently at her, pressing a lingering kiss to her eager, bruised lips before murmuring softly, ‘I’m not going to stop.’

  Swiftly he dragged the wet shirt over his head then drew her to him again and slid the straps of her swimsuit down her arms, baring her breasts to his gaze for a moment before he pulled her against him with a groan of agony. ‘God, you’re beautiful, Louise. So damned beautiful!’ The words seemed to be wrenched from him, as though he didn’t want to say them aloud, and she stiffened as a faint fear uncurled inside her.

  ‘Wyatt, I don’t think—’

  ‘Don’t think, honey. Just feel.’ His breath whispered against her damp skin just a moment before he kissed her again and all her fears melted away. Each slow sweep of his tongue against hers seemed to heal the pain and warm the coldness that had lain like a lump in her heart. When he caught her hands and pressed them to the sleekness of his chest as he held her up in the water she moaned softly. He was satin and velvet, his skin smooth from the water, warm from the flow of blood beneath it, the beat of his heart thumping under her fingertips in a rhythm that nearly drove her wild.

  She moved against him, letting her body float against the hard strength of his, feeling the unmistakable pressure of his arousal surging against her. When his hand slid up to cup her breast and stroke the rigid nipple she trembled. Nothing had ever felt like this before; no one had ever made her feel as though her body were on fire and her soul had gone to heaven. What was happening to her? Was it just desire she felt, or something more?

  Her eyes opened straight into his, wide, shocked, filled with uncertainty, and she heard him curse roughly. ‘Don’t, Louise! Don’t look at me that way.’

  ‘Which way?’ She licked her parched lips, shuddering when she saw the way his eyes hungrily followed the movement of her tongue.

  ‘As though you’re afraid of me.’ He crushed her against him, her soft breasts flattening against the rigid muscles of his chest, making her breath catch at the deliciously disturbing sensations.

  She shook her head, feeling the softly grating brush of his body hair against her nipples as she swayed weightlessly in the warm water. ‘I’m not afraid of you in any physical sense. It’s just that this is wrong, Wyatt. Wrong!’

  She tried to draw away, but he held her fast, his arm locked around her wais
t as he raised her in the water and stared into her troubled face. ‘How can you say it’s wrong? It feels very right to me, Louise.’ His hands smoothed the skin at her waist, his fingers stroking across the soft curve of her hips before moving down to cup the fullness of her bottom and draw her closer. Louise gasped, fighting the pull of passion so that she could cling to the very last vestiges of common sense.

  ‘No. Nothing about this whole situation is right! We’ve been play-acting, Wyatt. It isn’t real... any of it!’

  He bit at her lower lip, teasing, tormenting kisses that made her ache with a wild abandonment which it was hard to control. ‘Is this acting, Louise? Is it pretend? No. What we’re feeling now is very real, and perhaps that’s the trouble. Maybe we need to face up to how we feel about each other.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Her voice was hoarse with desire, her body on fire with need of him, but she didn’t protest when he reluctantly set her from him and drew the bodice of the costume back up with a rough sigh.

  ‘I think you do, honey. I think if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that the only way to handle how we feel is by admitting to it. I want you; you want me. That’s just a simple fact.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting we do about it? Sleep together? Is that what this is all about?’

  He smiled. ‘It’s tempting, isn’t it? I’d be a liar if I said otherwise, but—’

  ‘But what? No, don’t bother. This is just another of your ploys, Lord, isn’t it? Another attempt to get me into your bed and then blame me for it happening.’ Her face was hot with colour and she turned away to lever herself out of the pool, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  ‘No, it isn’t. If it’s anything, it’s an attempt to understand what we’re feeling. Desire is a strange emotion. It can stern from so many different things. We’ve spent every moment since we met fighting, and that can be a stimulation in itself.’

  ‘So what do you suggest? That we call a truce and then see how we feel?’ Her eyes were dark with confusion as they met the glittering brightness of his.

  ‘That’s just what I am suggesting.’ He laughed softly at her gasp of astonishment. ‘Why not, Louise? Why should this be such purgatory for us? Surely we’re both adult enough to enjoy each other’s company for these few days. Let’s agree to end the hostilities, shall we?’

  He had to be mad—stark raving mad—if he thought she’d agree to that! It was bad enough trying to cope when they were fighting, but imagine being subjected to the full force of the Wyatt Lord technique!

  Her eyes flashed as she scrambled out of the water and glared down at him. ‘No way! There is no way on God’s sweet earth that I’m calling any truce with you!’

  He levered himself out of the water and stood beside her, running a hand over his dripping hair to push it away from his face before staring back at her with an expression in his eyes that sent a shiver straight down her backbone. ‘Then if there isn’t to be a truce, honey, it must be warfare.’ He skimmed a glance over her rigid figure, his eyes crinkling at the corners with silent laughter as they moved slowly back to her face. ‘I must admit I can hardly wait for the battle to recommence. You make a very tempting enemy, Louise. Very tempting indeed.’

  There had to be something she could say to squash him, some smart, witty little put-down that would wipe the smile off his arrogant face, but wasn’t it typical that she couldn’t think of it right then when she needed it most? With a haughty toss of her head Louise stalked away, trying her hardest to ignore the mocking sound of his laughter, but it seemed to echo inside her head hours later, a taunting reminder of everything he’d said. Truce or war...what a choice to have to make!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE dress was perfect. Pale grey silk chiffon, lightly sprinkled with tiny white spots, it floated around her slender body like a cloud. She’d paid her cousin only a fraction of the cost its designer label merited and put it aside to wear for some special occasion. It had just never crossed her mind that that special time would be her engagement party.

  Her hand shook as she smoothed the thin straps across her shoulders, and she turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see the anxiety lurking in the depths of her eyes. There was just tonight to get through, then one more day, then she could put all this behind her. She’d managed so far, so she’d manage now to convince the world that she and Wyatt were in love.

  There was a strange heaviness in her heart as she walked back through to her bedroom, but she had no chance to examine the reasons for it as she saw Wyatt standing by the window. Dressed in a white dinner-jacket with black trousers and snowy-white shirt, he looked devastating, and Louise felt her heart start to thump rapidly. Since that strangely unsettling conversation they’d had at the pool she’d done her best to keep the atmosphere between them calm and even, somehow afraid that Wyatt would carry out his threats to start a war if she gave him half a chance. But it was impossible to quell the sudden tension she felt at the sight of him now.

  ‘Haven’t you heard of knocking?’ she demanded sharply, but he merely smiled as he turned from the window to study her rigid figure in a way that made the blood flow a little faster along her veins.

  ‘I did knock, but you mustn’t have heard me. You look lovely, Louise.’ There was genuine appreciation in his deep voice, and Louise felt a shudder of heat work its way slowly, devastatingly down to her toes before she got herself under control.

  ‘Thank you. I thought I should make an effort to convince your friends that I’m the perfect mate for you, so I pulled out all the stops. I’m glad you think you’re getting your money’s worth.’

  His eyes narrowed and he took a few slow steps towards her, stopping far too close for her liking as he studied her softly flushed face. ‘I don’t think we’re going to put on a convincing act if you adopt that attitude, Louise. It’s crucial that you both look and act the part of the loving fiancée tonight.’

  She shrugged slightly, turning away to pick up the small grey leather bag which matched her slim-heeled grey sandals. ‘Sorry, I do apologise. Looking the part is simple enough, but as for acting it...’ She flicked him a perfunctory smile, her eyes shimmering with contempt as they met his. ‘I’m afraid acting the part is becoming increasingly difficult, Wyatt, but I shall do my best, rest assured. Now if you’re ready, shall we go?’

  He shook his head, his face inscrutable as he stood in front of her, blocking her path to the door. ‘Not just yet, not until we’ve ascertained that you really are going to try your hardest, my sweet.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I am. Do you really think I’ve gone through all this to throw it all away now?’ Her heart was going crazy, skipping and leaping inside her chest. It was the way he was watching her, his pale eyes studying her with an intensity that seemed to see right through to her innermost secret places.

  ‘And that’s supposed to reassure me, is it? Your word that you’re going to do your best to pull this off?’

  ‘Yes! What else do you want? A written guarantee?’ She swung away, picked up the pad and pencil lying on the small ornate desk, and wrote in swift, bold strokes,

  I, Louise Carter, do solemnly promise that I shall try my hardest to convince everyone that I am madly in love with Wyatt Lord.

  She ripped the sheet off the pad and thrust it at him, one delicate eyebrow rising in mocking query. ‘Well, does that satisfy you?’

  He read the note and laughed deeply as he crumpled it in his hand and tossed it towards the waste basket. ‘I’m afraid not. I’d be happier with something a bit more...concrete than that.’

  ‘What? Name it, Lord, then maybe we can get on with what we’re supposed to be doing.’

  ‘This.’ He had her in his arms before she could think, his pale eyes glittering laughingly down into her shocked ones. ‘I can’t think of anything more convincing than to have you appear in front of all those people looking loved.’

  ‘No!’ Louise struggled frantically, but
it was impossible to break free of his hold. ‘How dare you? How dar—?’

  He pressed a gentle finger to her mouth, his voice deeply mocking now, yet holding a note that made a shiver ripple in hot waves along her spine. ‘All’s fair in love and war, Louise. And we decided yesterday that it was going to be war, didn’t we?’

  ‘I didn’t decide anything! It was you who made that crazy statement. You, not—’

  The rest of her protests were swallowed up as he kissed her hard and thoroughly, his lips taking hers in a kiss of such devastating expertise that she felt her knees starting to buckle. Grimly she fought to keep control of her reeling senses, keeping her mouth pressed tightly shut against the persuasive pressure of his, but it was a struggle she knew she was destined to lose at any moment unless she managed to stop him. Twisting her head away, she buried her face against his shoulder to stop him from kissing her again, but he did no more than laugh softly as his lips moved to shower a trail of tormenting kisses down her cheek before he started to bite gently at the exposed lobe of her ear.

  Louise shuddered, moaning helplessly as his mouth moved slowly on, the moist tip of his tongue trailing along the cord of her neck, leaving behind a trail of fire that seemed to inflame her senses to an unbearable degree. She shook her head, her voice husky as she whispered a soft plea for him to stop the torment. ‘No...please, Wyatt...please!’

  Deliberately he pretended to misunderstand what she wanted as he caught her chin and turned her face to stare into her eyes. ‘Don’t worry, sweet, I’m not going to stop.’

  ‘I... No!’ She pulled frantically away from him, but he merely laughed as he eased her back against the hardness of his body and bent to kiss her again, slowly and sweetly. Louise moaned in protest, curling her hands into fists against his chest, forcing herself to ignore the traitorous weakness that was turning her limbs to water. She wouldn’t let him use her this way, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of kissing him back!