The Seduction Trap (19 page)

‘Not on your life!’ she muttered. ‘I wouldn’t trust him. I’d rather do it myself.’

There was a hiss as Guy’s breath was drawn in sharply. ‘You’re not suggesting I’d deliberately arrange an accident for you, I hope?’ he queried, tight-lipped.

She stood her ground. ‘What am I supposed to think? How could I know? I can’t take the risk. You have to admit that you’d be glad to see the back of me.’

The ensuing pause stretched and stretched uncomfortably, a million thoughts seemingly chasing through Guy’s mind. ‘I will admit that you are a complication I could do without. And that I’ve contemplated ways of making you leave,’ he said eventually.

Her muscles went rigid. In his own, guarded way, he had revealed his complicity in the harassment, even if he hadn’t been personally responsible. Suddenly wanting to howl, she turned her back on him and listened to the slow tread of his feet as he walked to the post office.

She had to pass it on her way to the river. As she did so she noticed that the door was locked, with a notice on it which declared, ‘Service minimum. A cause de la tristesse’. Clear enough, she thought. Through the glass window, she could see Guy’s tall figure, his face solemn, his body in an attitude of sympathy as he listened to a frantically gesturing woman. Suddenly her face crumpled and Guy drew her into his arms, his expression tender and gentle. The scene touched a chord in her, reaching deep into her emotions, and she wanted to cry too.

He cared so much for the people of Turaine. And he saw her as a threat to them. But she wasn’t! How could she make him realise that? She clenched her fists, determined to do so and yearning to be accepted. It wouldn’t be long, she promised herself, once she’d spoken to her mother and learnt the truth.

Before she could move on Guy emerged, looking sad and drained. Tessa felt a lurch in her heart and realised her emotions had been dangerously engaged. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked quickly when he saw her. Hastily she rearranged her face.

‘Only... I saw you in there with a woman,’ she said. ‘Has someone died?’

‘Yes. Her husband. Very suddenly. They’ve been married for forty years. She can’t come to terms with it.’

‘How awful. Poor woman. Does she have family?’ Tessa asked, full of concern.

‘The village is her family. We’ll all support her,’ he answered shortly.

‘It’s upset you, hasn’t it?’ Extraordinarily, she wanted to touch his hand, to offer him her sympathy because he’d taken the woman’s unhappiness to heart, and she struggled with her desire to soothe him.

‘Her husband organised the funeral for my father when he died. He persuaded the villagers to pay their respects, despite the bad feeling, and eventually he traced me m New Orleans. I owe my homecoming to that man. I’m sorry that he hasn’t lived to see my plans for the village fulfilled.’

‘Oh, Guy!’ she sighed. It hurt her-physically hurt in her chest-to see him so upset. And that worried her. Guy’s dark eyes seemed to melt into hers. ‘I don’t like to see people unhappy when I care about them.’ He inhaled and exhaled slowly. ‘Love!’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You can be very kind,’ she said in a small voice. She valued kindness. And she wished he’d be compassionate to her. His jaw tightened. ‘To those who deserve it.’

‘I deserve it,’ she said with quiet insistence. ‘Even if my mother is all the things you claim she is, that’s nothing to do with me. And you can’t condemn me for wanting to provide an income for myself-’

‘I condemn you for your method,’ he said in a hard tone. ‘It was underhand and cruel. You gave me hope where there was none.’

‘I told you why. Besides, that’s no reason for people to break my windows or steal my belongings or ruin my bike,’ she muttered.

He gave her a sharp look, then frowned. ‘I told you you’d get hurt if you stayed here. It was bound to get rocky.’

‘And now you’ve said it will become smooth again,’ she reminded him hopefully.

‘Not smooth,’ he denied. ‘I promised that you wouldn’t be harassed any more. I can’t guarantee you an easy life. You’ve too many problems for that.’

She gave a sigh. ‘Tell me something new!’ She decided that she’d try ringing home. Right now. There was a remote chance that her father might be back. ‘Guy... I need some change for the phone. I wonder if-’

‘Here.’ He thrust into his pocket, took her hand and poured coins into her palm. One or two heavy spots of warm rain fell on his outstretched arm and they both looked up anxiously. ‘I’ll go to the garage now,’ he said abruptly. ‘Are you by any chance trying to contact your mother?’ When she nodded, her eyes huge on his, he hesitated then said very softly, ‘I’ll wait a moment, then.’

She blinked in surprise. ‘Why?’

‘In case you need me.’

The soft warmth of his voice made her breath ragged. But she knew how unwise it would be for her to encourage him. Too much about him pulled at her heartstrings and threatened her protective defences. Every time he came near, her pulses went into overdrive. Her body leapt into life as if opening for him. She

lowered her head and blushed at her thoughts, knowing that she must keep them to herself. ‘No, Guy.’ He’d promised that the vendetta wouldn’t continue. With that out of the way, everything would be fine. With difficulty, she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes, almost wavering when she saw the tenderness lurking there. Why? she thought in panic.

‘Stick to your promise to bring the vendetta to a close and I won’t need you,’ she said quietly. ‘Now or at any time in the future.’

And with that she walked back to the phone box to phone home.

‘Dad!’ she cried in relief, when he answered at long last. ‘It’s me, Tessa! Are you OK?’

‘No, I’m not OK!’ he replied crossly. ‘I’ve been waiting to hear from you. I need some help around here. When’s your mother coming?’

She went ice-cold. ‘She-she’s with you ... isn’t she?’

‘No! Don’t you think I’d have noticed?’ he asked irritably.

‘Oh, Dad, she must be there!’ Tessa gasped. ‘She said she was-she rang me from home and said that you were paying for the call!’

‘Of course she’s not here. I’ve been waiting all this time for news. Some American rang, asking for her.’

‘Guy!’ she muttered.

‘And,’ continued her father, not hearing her, ‘I’m getting in a bit of a state. There are things I can’t manage on my own.’ Guilt swamped her. Her father had been alone all this time! She’d left him with prepared meals and promised it wouldn’t be for long... ‘Oh, Dad! This is awful. I-I didn’t call because I thought Mother was with you and that the two of you had gone away,’ she said faintly. ‘And...’ Her stomach rolled as she remembered what her mother had said, her sense of panic making her voice

rise half an octave. ‘Mum said there wasn’t any point in ringing-’

‘It’s no use giving me excuses. I’m going to Edith’s across the road. I can’t manage on my own any longer,’ her father said grumpily, mentioning a friendly neighbour. He began to speak again but the pips obliterated whatever he was saying. Then the connection went dead. Automatically Tessa replaced the receiver, her face ashen. Her father had been trying to cope on his own. And she’d only felt able to stay away because she’d thought her mother had been with him!

Her mother knew he was disabled. She’d known that Tessa couldn’t leave him for longer than a few days. Appalled, she realised that her mother had deliberately and cheerfully lied. Everything she’d said had been a lie. Everything? Dazed and bewildered, she pushed open the door and stumbled out, unable to grasp what had happened. The shock had disorientated her. She didn’t know what she was doing or where she was going. And then she realised that it was raining heavily and she was already soaked.

Guy’s face loomed into view. ‘She’s not there, is she?’ he asked urgently.

His hair had been flattened to his head in a mass of black jet, the tendrils on his forehead sending rivers of water pouring down his face.

‘No!’ she yelled hysterically against the noise of the hissing rain. ‘Are you glad?’

‘Tessa-Tessa,’ he said gently.

She took one look at his tender expression and the urge to fling herself into the protection of his arms sent her panic-stricken in the opposite direction, running for all she was worth through the deluge.

Half-blind with tears, she slid and slipped on the wet cobbles as she leapt puddles and splashed through swirling streams which tumbled down the steep streets and made them a nightmare to negotiate.

At last she arrived at the end of Rue Boulangerie, sobbing with relief. And skidded to a halt at the sight of the graffiti someone had scrawled across the facade of her house in hideous yellow paint.

‘Oh, God!’ she groaned. This was the last straw! She crumpled against the wall, forlorn and defeated. ‘Mon Dieu!’ came Guy’s harsh voice in her ear. And to her secret delight he pulled her to him protectively, encircling her shoulder with his arm.

This time she didn’t try to escape. She needed him. And she clung to him in gratitude. ‘Guy!’ she whimpered, shaking from head to foot.

His arm tightened and she felt the thrust of anger stiffening his whole body, each muscle group tensing to its limit. He didn’t do it, she thought with relief. And he doesn’t approve. It was some comfort.

‘Come away,’ he growled. ‘I have to see.’

Soaked to the skin, she numbly approached her house, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of control. ‘What does it say?’ she cried hoarsely. When he didn’t answer she lifted her face and screwed up her eyes against the pounding rain. Guy’s expression was grim. Defined by the shimmering rain, his skin stretched tautly over his cheekbones and his eyes glittered with a lethal brilliance. ‘What does it say?’ she yelled. Coal-black eyes met jade. He seemed hurt, as if he’d never imagined anyone would do this. Someone in his beloved village had acted viciously and it disturbed him. Her heart thudded as he crushed her shivering, quivering body closer, still holding her gaze with his.

Suddenly she didn’t care about the graffiti. He’d seen that things had gone too far and he wanted to shield her from further revenge. That was strangely uplifting. ‘It says, ‘Go home, daughter of a whore’,’ he said grimly.

‘Oh, no!’ she gasped, and he hugged her against his chest, his arms protecting her from the rain as far as possible. ‘The rain... come in,’ she ground out shakily.

When she moved, he tugged her back and stared down at her with an intense expression. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You’re coming home with me.’

‘Why?’ She felt scared of him. This new, sympathetic Guy could mould her into any shape he wanted. She struggled, but his grip was too firm, his arms capturing her too securely. ‘Please, Guy!’ She whimpered into his saturated shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin against her lips.

‘I don’t want you to be alone,’ he said roughly. ‘I don’t want you going in there.’ She froze. ‘You think ...?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ he said rapidly, ‘except that I can’t risk your safety. And, for God’s sake, let’s not stand out here getting drenched any longer. I don’t want to leave you here on your own and I’m not staying in your house. Your roof will be inviting in several gallons of water an hour. You’re coming back to the chateau whether you like it or not.’ Suddenly she felt too limp and wet and upset to care or protest, and he must have known that because he hurried her along, taking the safest route to the chateau. The feeling of sanctuary when he slammed the big chateau door behind them was tremendous.

With a sigh of relief, she slid from his grasp and turned grateful eyes on him from between curtains of dripping hair. He too was soaked to the skin, his muscles shaping the now transparent shirt and claiming her hungry gaze.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered shakily.

‘Warmth, food and a drink is what you need,’ he muttered.

Tessa saw where his eyes had strayed and hastily crossed her arms over her body. If his shirt was transparent, so was hers. Already she could feel the cold, hard peaks of her breasts pushing against the sodden material.

‘Someone must hate my mother very much,’ she said unhappily. ‘A creditor, perhaps?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Guy!’ she cried plaintively. ‘I can’t bear to think of someone out there, trying to hurt me! And... the awful thing is that I’m beginning to come to the conclusion that my mother might have been.. . d-d-deceitful,’ she stammered.

‘That’s what I meant when I said you’d get hurt,’ he said gently. ‘I knew you’d find out the truth sooner or later.’

‘You waited outside the phone box because you knew she wouldn’t be where I expected,’ she croaked, licking at the drips falling onto her parted lips. ‘I know her type,’ he said simply.

Tears welled from her eyes and ran down her face, merging with the trickles of rain. ‘That hurts,’ she said helplessly. ‘I trusted her, Guy, I told her that Dad couldn’t be left on his own for long. I’d only cooked enough meals for a certain number of days. We’d arranged that she should go and be with him while I stayed here. She said she was with him when she phoned! She knew he couldn’t fend for himself. How could she do this to Dad?’

‘Or to you.’

Tessa nodded dumbly. Her mother had let her down. She thought of her father, waiting for news, wondering why there was no phone call. She remembered how her mother had insisted that she shouldn’t ring home. That had been cruel. ‘Dad must be very upset,’ she mumbled, ridden with guilt. ‘And you.’