Notorious (4 page)

His gray-blue eyes glittered with a flicker of anger. “I’m growing a little weary of the charade myself. All right, let’s be frank. You’re here because you’re to occupy my bed for the next six months.”

She gazed at him, stunned. “You’re crazy.”

“No, I believe in the integrity of a deal.” He paused. “Even if you don’t.”

She shook her head dazedly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He frowned impatiently. “My bed. Anyway I want you, for six months.” When she continued to look at him blankly, he turned away with leashed violence. “If you still won’t be honest with me, I can’t force you.” He yanked a bellrope. “I’ll have Nilar take you to your suite. I’ll expect you in the salon in one hour for drinks before dinner. Don’t bother to try to communicate with any of the servants. I made quite sure none of the staff speaks English.”

A small, heavyset woman, dressed in dark green Oriental draperies, appeared in the hall.

Sabin gestured to the woman and said something in a foreign tongue before his gaze shifted to meet Mallory’s. “Your bags will be brought to your suite. I hope you’ll find your accommodations comfortable.”

Mallory shot an involuntary glance at the front door.

“No.” Sabin’s soft voice was layered with steel. “There’s not a village for fifty miles and by the time you reached it, I doubt if you’d be alive. The desert isn’t kind to strangers.”

“Then you have that in common.”

“But we aren’t strangers.” He smiled bitterly. “At least you’re no stranger to me. I’ve wanted you for over three years.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Mallory said wearily. “We have to talk.”

“We have six months. I’m sure we’ll get around to talking some time or other.” His glance was frankly sexual as it moved over her, lingering on the fullness of her breasts.

Mallory felt a wave of heat tingle through her that was as startling as it was intense. Sexual arousal. Stark, raw, and overwhelming.

He nodded slowly as he met her gaze. “I do believe we understand each other. If you please me, you’ll have an easy six months even though I’m still mad as hell. I don’t like being cheated, Mallory.”

“Cheated?” She pulled her gaze away from his and shook her head. “I’m the one who was cheated. Tell me, did that nice Carey Litzke know what you had in mind when he lured me here?”

His lips tightened. “You liked Carey? He liked you too. That’s why I decided to leave him in Marasef. I find myself very possessive where my time with you is concerned.” He inclined his head. “Until dinner.”

“But we need to—” Mallory stopped. Sabin was walking away from her and was already halfway down the long, gleaming corridor.

He glanced back over his shoulder. “Wear a violet dress. I like you in violet.”

He was gone, leaving her standing looking after him in bewilderment.

Nilar tugged at the sleeve of her blouse, and Mallory turned an abstracted gaze toward the woman to see that she was beckoning. Mallory followed, walking behind Nilar, trying to make
some sense of Sabin Wyatt’s words. It was clear she must find the missing pieces to the puzzle before she could understand any of this. Only two facts were clear: Sabin Wyatt believed she had cheated him in some manner; and Ben, as usual, was involved in her misfortune.

The latter shouldn’t have surprised her. Ben had been responsible for most of the unhappiness that had plagued her for the last two years. Why should it stop just because he was dead?

All right, Sabin Wyatt was angry. But he was reputed to be a brilliant man, and she should be able to persuade him there was some kind of misunderstanding.

Brilliant, perhaps, but barbarously, sensually male. She was experienced enough to read that sweeping glance he had given her.

But, according to Ben, Sabin Wyatt changed mistresses as frequently as he did his ties. A man who had his choice among the glamorous women of the world would have little interest in acquiring another one.

Which brought her back to square one and Ben.

Nilar opened the door at the end of the corridor
and gestured for Mallory to precede her. The room was lovely, large, and spacious, with white mosaic tile floors that were in exotic contrast to the turquoise velvet drapes and bed coverlet that provided the only color in the room.

Exotic. Mallory found herself shivering as she realized that word also meant alien. She was very much the alien here and more alone than she had ever been in her life.

The lassitude she had suffered on her ride from the airport had been banished with a vengeance, she thought grimly. She had those blasted shakes again. Damn, they couldn’t have come at a worse time. When she next confronted Sabin, she had to be calm and confident. She
would
be calm. She would just take one of Dr. Blairen’s magic fixer-uppers, and she would be able to face anything.

“You did wear violet.” Sabin rose to his feet as Mallory came into the salon, his gaze traveling over the violet silk lounging pajamas she wore. “I wasn’t sure you’d accommodate me.”

“I thought it foolish to quarrel about such a
small matter. We have more important things to discuss.” Mallory stopped just inside the door. “All of this has something to do with Ben, doesn’t it?”

“It has everything to do with Ben.” Sabin held out his hand. “Come here. Do you realize I’ve never touched you?”

Mallory felt the hot color stain her cheeks. The gesture was as arrogantly, sexually male as the man himself. “Listen, I know you and Ben were brothers but—”

“Stepbrothers.” He poured a cocktail into a glass out of the mixer on the tray beside him and came toward her. “And I’m sure he told you he had no fondness for me.”

“He was jealous of you.”

“Not of me. He was jealous of the money. Ben always wanted the power without the work.” He held the glass out to her.

“You’re too hard on him.” Mallory absently took the glass. “He was like a charming little boy who never grew up.”

He reached out and cupped her throat in his big hand. “You loved him?”

Mallory felt the pulse in her throat jump and
then begin to pound under his warm, callused palm. “At … the start.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “What changed the way you felt?”

“I don’t—” She was oddly breathless. His hand was a sensual manacle around her throat, and she felt chained, joined to him. She had to force herself to concentrate on his words, not his touch. “I thought the little boy was only on the surface and there was a man underneath. I found out I was wrong.”

“You would have left him?” The demand came with sudden hard fierceness. “If he hadn’t been killed, you would have left the bastard?”

“Probably.” Mallory tried to step back but Sabin’s grip immediately tightened about her throat, keeping her immobile. “I don’t know. He needed me.”

“Oh, he needed you, all right.” Sabin smiled crookedly. “You were a very valuable commodity.” His grip tightened. “Or were you a team?”

“Let me go, Sabin,” she said quietly.

His hand slowly fell away from her throat. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” But she still felt branded, manacled to him in some strange way. “I just felt caught.”

“I know the sensation. I’ve felt the same way for a long time.” A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I don’t want to hurt you. There were times when I thought I did, but I want you to come to me willingly, Mallory.”

She stared up at him helplessly. The atmosphere between them was so charged, Mallory found it hard to breathe. She had never felt like this before. The sheer sexual energy of the man was overpowering. She abruptly realized it was the same primitive force he had been exuding in the courtroom that she had mistaken for hatred. That energy was drawing her to him with the dark magnetism that had compelled her during all those fear-filled weeks.

She tore her gaze away and took a step back. “I suppose I should be flattered you’ve formed some sort of attachment to me, but it’s really quite common.” She lifted the glass to her lips and sipped the martini. “Seeing a woman on the movie screen seems to generate a certain amount of unhealthy fascination in some people.” She could
sense him go rigid and hastily took another swallow of her drink. Lord, she was probably saying all the wrong things. Sabin Wyatt wasn’t some neurotic fan who had developed a yen.

She was also doing the wrong things, she noticed suddenly as she looked down at the drink in her hand. She wasn’t supposed to be drinking. The doctor had warned her about mixing those sedatives with alcohol. She immediately set the glass down on the table beside her. “But this isn’t really about me, is it? It’s some dispute you had with Ben that was never resolved.”

“It has a hell of a lot to do with you. Do you mean he never told you how it all began?” He smiled mockingly. “I was in London three years ago when Ben was still working for the firm, and we both attended a royal gala for
Mismatch.”
He saw her stiffen and nodded. “You had a small role in the picture, and we both attended the premiere. I took one look at you, and I felt as if I’d been knocked silly. I never even tried to hide it from Ben. I intended to go backstage and get someone to introduce us, but I was called away from the theater before the picture even started. There was
an emergency situation in Sedikhan that stretched on for months, and in the meantime my charming, little brother was caught with his hand in the till. I bid him a less than cordial adieu. The next communication I had from him was your wedding announcement.”

“You mean you think—No! He wouldn’t do that.” She gazed at him in horror. “He wouldn’t have married me just to take something away from you.”

“Wouldn’t he? Tell me, how did you meet?”

“My agent introduced us. He said Ben had been pestering him for months to—” She shook her head. It was a mistake. The room blacked out for a moment and swayed dizzily around her. What the devil was wrong with her? She took a deep breath and the dizziness receded. She had to think for a minute to remember what they had been talking about. “Ben was irresponsible, but he wasn’t malicious.”

“Think about it.” Sabin’s gaze was fastened on her face. “Lord, you look as if you’re going to faint.”

“I’m fine.” It was a lie. She felt awful. She
couldn’t understand why she was so dizzy and uncoordinated at this moment when she needed to think clearly. She had to tell him what he believed wasn’t true. Ben had displayed sulkiness, even rudeness on occasion, but she had never been aware of any calculated manipulation.

She heard Sabin mutter a curse beneath his breath. “Okay, maybe he loved you in his own twisted way. He told me he did. Now will you stop looking like that?”

She gazed up at him in bewilderment.

“But the bastard
stole
you. He had no right to take you from me.” His voice was low and fierce, his light eyes blazing in his taut face. “And you had no right to play games and then try to cheat me.”

She felt almost numb from exhaustion and the shocks she had received this evening, and that blasted light-headedness had returned. She held her head very still to keep the dizziness at bay. “What … games?”

Anger flared in Sabin’s face as his hand gripped her elbow. “You don’t recall? Perhaps we should refresh your memory.” He propelled her across
the room and down the hall. He threw open a door on the left to reveal the muted richness of a library with wall-to-wall bookshelves, a beige and scarlet Persian carpet, and a six-foot television screen mounted on the wall across the room. “I was saving this for later but now is as good a time as any.” He gestured to a beige leather-cushioned chaise lounge across the room. “Make yourself comfortable. It’s show time.”

He strode across the room and inserted a tape in the video recorder beneath the television screen.

Mallory gazed at him blankly and then moved across the room and sat down on the chaise lounge. That was better. The dizziness faded, leaving only a languid heaviness in its wake. She didn’t want to be here, she thought wearily. She wanted to go back to her room and try to absorb the suspicions Sabin had implanted. Heaven knew, toward the end, her relationship with Ben had deteriorated into something that bore no resemblance to the marriage of her dreams. But now, if she believed Sabin’s words, she was left with nothing at all.

“No, lean back.” Sabin smiled over his shoulder as he reached for the remote control. “Indulge me. It’s a fantasy I’ve had for a long time.”

What did it matter? Mallory slid back on the chaise lounge until her spine was resting against the leather-cushioned back. “What do you want me to see?”

“Something we’ve both seen before … but not together.” He flicked out the light and moved toward the chaise lounge. “And I definitely want to see it
with
you. Scoot over. There’s room for two. I made sure of that when I bought that particular piece of furniture.”

His warm thigh came as a sensual shock against her own as he settled himself beside her within the confines of the lounge. She could hear the sound of his breathing in the darkness, smell the scent of his spicy cologne, feel the warmth of his body through the layers of clothes separating them.

“Are you ready?”

Ready for what? she wondered hazily. She wasn’t ready for the sexual arousal that charged the air with electricity. She wasn’t ready for Sabin
Wyatt’s overpowering presence and vitality. She felt as if he were sapping the strength from her body with every breath he took.

“I assume silence is assent.” He pressed the remote control, and the six-foot TV screen across the room suddenly came to vivid life. “You’ll recall this isn’t the most graphic of the lot, but it’s my own personal favorite. You managed to encompass the entire range of emotion.”

She gasped as she saw her own face on the enormous television screen.

“You recognize it?” Sabin’s big hand began to gently smooth her hair back from her face. “Then you remember what comes after.”

She did remember. How could she forget? After Ben’s death she had burned those tapes. All six of them. But here they were again, haunting her with their futile eroticism. In Sabin Wyatt’s possession. “You … shouldn’t have this,” she said haltingly.

“Why not? I paid for it.” His voice was thick in the darkness. “I imagine I know every curve and hollow of your body better than you do yourself. I’ve watched these tapes so many times I’m surprised they’re not worn out. Half the time I didn’t
even want to watch them. They made me angry and jealous and so damn hard, it was torture. I wanted to go out and find a woman, any woman, to relieve that torture. At first, I did just that. Later, I realized it wasn’t doing any good. I wasn’t going to be satisfied with anyone but you.”