Lovers' Lies (4 page)

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Authors: Shirley Wine

BOOK: Lovers' Lies
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"Did you imagine you could make capital from a summer fling?" He snapped his fingers, the sound echoed loudly.

A summer fling?
And he's the measure by which I've judged every other man?

What does that say about my judgment?

Bruised, she drew on a cloak of pride, lifted her chin and met his gaze.

"Make capital out of such a dismal and unmemorable experience? Hardly!"

His lips thinned, eyes flashed with fierce emotion—his eyes widened and then narrowed as he met her gaze—pinned her to the spot for one brief instant.

Victoria managed a shaken breath before he hauled her close against his hard body. Too late, she regretted her scorn, her wounding of his masculine pride.
 

"Let me go!" Her struggle was futile.
 

"
Unmemorable? Dismal?
" He snarled, a strong hand lifting her chin.

His mouth settled over hers in unerring possession.
 

She was stunned by the violence she felt in him, the haze of anger swirling around him as he plundered her mouth.

When he lifted his head, her lips were numb and swollen. Her throat ached with unshed tears.
 

He looked at her and his expression changed, softened with guilt and regret.
 

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "That was uncalled for."

His fingers slid along her jaw tilting her face, the gentle touch overwhelming her completely.

Her lashes fluttered up. For one instant, brown eyes met gold, and the air about them shimmered as they looked at each other.
 

She sucked in a quick, shallow breath. In the same instant, he tightened his arms about her, and with a soft imprecation, recaptured her mouth in a kiss so devastating, so tender and with such sweetness, she was lost. The exquisite gentleness of his lips made her melt, forget everything except her need for his touch.

Fire raced through her veins, fizzing and dancing wherever it touched, skipping along remembered pathways.

Her insides liquefied, heat pooled in her belly.

He crushed her against his chest. Hard muscle and sinew crushed the fabric of her gown, abrading nipples pebbled with need.

His arms unlocked and large hands framed her face.

He lifted his head, studied her through half-closed eyelids before dropping tiny, intoxicating kisses all over her face.

"Still the same seductive little witch."

An unmistakable, husky thread of arousal lingered in his whisper as he released his hold.

Shattered by her response, Victoria stared at him, unable to think, react, or do anything but take shallow, ragged breaths.
 

She spun away, covering hot cheeks with trembling hands.

How could she return his kisses with such wanton abandon when he was committed to another woman?

What does that say about me?
 

"Get out of my room, Seth." Her voice trembled, but she refused to look at him, afraid of what she may reveal.

"It’s Keir, sweetheart. And I'm going."

He crossed to the door and paused, hand on the knob. Their gazes met and held as he watched her in the mirror.

Then he was gone.
 

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet her reflection.
 

Damn him!

Alone, with that closet door yanked wide open, filled with an aching need, she could do nothing except pray that all the messy emotions spilling around her feet didn’t trip her up.

A soft, tormented sigh escaped.

Victoria was forced to face the bleak self-knowledge of just why she had so steadfastly refused Logan’s proposals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

A
knock on the door wrenched her from a frozen trance.

"Victoria?"

Logan.

One glance in the mirror at her hectic color and kiss stung lips, and a despairing sigh escaped.

"One moment."
Good grief, is that my sultry rasp?

With a shaking hand, she reapplied lip gloss. Several deep breaths did little to steady her galloping pulse but, knowing she could delay no further, she opened the door.

Logan stared at her in silence for several moments. "You are so beautiful."
 

One swift glance and she understood Keir's disquiet.
Logan's in love with you.

Any serious involvement with his step brother was out of the question. She needed to distance herself from Logan. Fast. With an effort she dredged up a smile. "You don't often see me dressed up, is all."

"Something I intend to change."

"Logan." She stayed him and lifted a hand to his face. "Please don't. I appreciate the honor, but won't change my mind."

And if it was ever an option before I knew my Seth was your stepbrother, it's even less of an option now.

Logan covered her hand with his and for a moment closed his eyes.

"Okay, I've got it. Let's brave the hordes," he quipped and, with a proprietary hand beneath her elbow, escorted her downstairs.
 

The murmur of voices grew louder as they walked down the corridor and entered a high ceilinged room.

Women in rich colors mingled with more soberly, but no less expensively, dressed men in dark suits.

Apart from Logan, Victoria knew no one.

He steered her toward an elderly couple. The man was dressed in a tweed suit that had seen better days, and he certainly stood out in the midst of this glittering crowd.
 

"My uncle and aunt, Dan and Gloria Sinclair." Logan gripped the old man’s gnarled hand and kissed his aunt’s cheek. "Dan is my Dad’s brother."

"I can see the family resemblance." Victoria was pulled into a hug and kissed on the cheek.

The scent of peppermint mingled with mothballs clung to the old man, his smile warm and genuine.

And this is Logan forty years from now
.

"My, my, aren’t you a pretty filly," Dan boomed as he held her at arm's length. "Where did Logan find you?"

"Would you believe in a hospital?" Heat rose in her cheeks but she couldn't help laughing at his audacity.

"How is it that I can never meet a pretty filly like you when I go to hospital?"

"Perhaps you don't look in the right place." Logan chuckled.

"Dan, Logan, both of you behave," Gloria chided. "You know Muriel doesn’t like stable talk."

The old man snorted derisively.

"Muriel’s too uppity by half. Forgotten her roots, she has." He winked at Victoria. "Don’t let her scare you off, girl."

"I don’t scare easily." Charmed, Victoria was still chuckling as Logan turned to greet another couple, his hand on her arm.

"Tori, Keir you’ve met," he said quietly, his hand firm on her arm. "And this is his fiancée, Davina Strathmore."

Her laughter died as she saw the woman at Keir’s side but she was determined to be polite if it killed her.

Davina had no such qualms.

Dressed in a gown of glacial blue, she looked Victoria up and down with a leisurely insolence that set her teeth on edge.
 

"Muriel said Logan was caught up in the toils of gold digger." She touched the tips of her fingers to Victoria's outstretched hand.

The barbed comment had Victoria sucking in an angry breath at the other woman's effrontery.
 

She risked a glance at Keir and found him watching her from beneath eyelids at half mast, his smile cynically amused.

Fury swelled in her breast. This was the man who not half an hour ago was kissing her senseless.
 

 
With studied deliberation, Victoria swept her gaze around the opulently furnished room and then back to Davina. "And, oh my, isn’t there such a lot of gold to dig."

Her voice was low and sweet as, with an effort, she kept her temper severely in check. She longed to slap the supercilious smile clean off Davina's face.

And then do the same to Keir.

"You'll find no easy pickings here, Victoria." It was Keir who responded to her jab.

"You think?" She touched a suggestive finger to her lips, gratified when a dark flush ran up under his tan. With slow deliberation she gave him a studied, insolent once over. "I've never encountered any resistance from you, have I,
Keir?
"

His breath escaped in a hiss from between clenched teeth.

"You wanton little slut," Davina hissed, coins of color staining her cheeks.

Keir gripped Davina's arm and steered her away.

As she watched them move away, apprehension skittered across Victoria’s skin like some nasty eight-legged creature.
 

Logan's grip on her arm tightened as he sucked in an audible breath. A waiter came up to them and he snagged two glasses of champagne, giving one to her.

"Take care, Tori," he murmured in her ear.

"She’s so rude," she muttered still simmering. "Who does she think she is?"

"Davina has a huge sense of self-entitlement and thinks she can say anything she likes when it suits her purpose."

Victoria sipped her champagne. Its tart sweetness exploded on her tongue as she watched him across the rim of the glass.
 
"You don’t like her?"

"She’s a black widow, beautiful to look at but full of venom." He shook his head, watching the engaged pair with a troubled frown. "Yet my mother likes her."
 

Victoria, unsure how to respond to that comment, stayed silent.

She looked past Logan, watching Keir and Davina talking to an elderly couple unable to see any signs of intimacy. No secret touches. No lingering looks.

There was not one solitary sign of the passion she knew Keir possessed. The distance disturbed her.

She stared down at the wine in her glass as the memories she'd locked away, resurfaced.

The man she'd known was always touching, the brush of his fingers on her hair, a touch to the face, a gentle hand on her shoulder.
 

Hell! Half an hour ago his hands were all over me.

What had happened to him in the intervening years to turn him into this cold, hard man? A man prepared to tie himself to a woman cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins.

Not your business, Victoria.
 

Then, she remembered Connor and knew it could very well become her business. Thinking about her son hurt her heart.

Would Keir protect their child from Davina?

A chill goose-stepped across her soul. She never even paused to question her surety that Connor would need protection if Davina married his father.

She glanced up, discomforted to find Logan watching her with disconcerting shrewdness.

"What is it?"

"You look like you've lost your last friend."

She shrugged shaking her head.

Logan had no idea just how big was the can of worms he'd opened.

"Cheer up,"' he said softly. "There's some-one here I'd like you to meet."

He guided her through the chattering throng toward a vivacious redhead. "Piper, this is my friend, Victoria Scanlan."

"Logan’s told me so much about you." Piper gripped her hands, greeting her with a warm, sunny smile.

"Back at you." Victoria found the bubbly redhead's frankly curious smile contagious.

So this was Piper Daintry, the pastoral heiress Logan's family was so eager for him to marry? She wasn't at all what Victoria had expected.

She struggled to hold back a laugh at Logan's suddenly wary expression. She poked a playful elbow in his ribs as she winked at Piper. "Now who's looking apprehensive?"

Piper's musical laugh sounded above the chatter and the clink of wine glasses. "So what's he been telling you about me? Shall we compare notes?"

"Let's."

Logan ran a finger around his shirt collar as if it were suddenly too tight. "Knock it off you two."

Victoria looked at Piper and they both laughed.
 

"Poor man," Piper crooned laying a hand on his arm. She glanced up at Victoria. "Do you mind if I steal him for a few moments?"

"No, go ahead." As they walked across the room to talk to an elderly woman, Victoria watched them.

Something in the way Logan's head tilted toward the redhead screamed of attraction and intimacy.

With a brooding frown and jaundiced eye, she looked down at the decaying bubbles in her glass of wine.

Suddenly uneasy, Victoria questioned why Logan had badgered her into this visit? Even going so far as to dangle the carrot of a huge commission in front of her?
 

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