Living With The Enemy. Laura Martin

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      CHAPTER ONE

      LUCY pushed her trolley past the lines of holiday-makers towards the airport exit. She felt anxious. But then, she thought ruefully, when didn’t she?

      Where was he? She stood awkwardly, trying not to look as if she were abandoned, but feeling dreadfully self-conscious amongst the bustle of people who streamed passed her and knew exactly where they were going.

      Lucy’s gaze flicked back and forward. She felt dishevelled and she longed for a cool shower and a good lie-down. No one seemed the least bit interested in her presence. She scanned the crowds for a face that might fit. Charles had been his usual vague self, and she hadn’t thought in the rush of her departure to press for a description. Think, she told herself. What will he look like, this friend of Charles?

      Her imagination did its best, but she had virtually nothing to go on. Most likely he would be of a similar type to her step-brother: heading towards middle age with a vengeance, medium height, medium weight, inclined to a paunch, maybe, from too much good food and not enough exercise.

      I don’t care what he looks like, Lucy thought, as long as he turns up soon and rescues me.

      Worried emerald eyes rested hopefully on a kindly looking man with thinning hair who stood a few feet away. He looked as if he was waiting for someone, maybe... But not me, Lucy thought despondently as a brightly dressed woman and two young children rushed gleefully towards him. Try again.

      Of course, the flight had been delayed and that hadn’t helped the arrangement. Maybe Alex Darcy had got fed up waiting; maybe he had gone home. Maybe she would be standing here for the rest of the afternoon, looking and feeling like a lost soul...

      ‘Lucy Harper?’

      She turned at the sound of the voice. It surprised her: deep and mellow, with an edge of huskiness that sent an unexpected tingle down her spine.

      ‘Yes?’ She looked up, then raised her eyes another foot. Not medium height or medium weight, she thought as she looked into the deepest, darkest eyes that she had ever seen. Not medium anything.

      ‘Hello, I’m Alex.’

      His smile was wide and attractive. For a second Lucy stood bemused, looking up in wonder at her stunning companion. Black, glossy hair, a little longer than the norm, was swept back from a tanned, incredibly stunning face. Straight nose, high cheekbones, spiky lashes framing eyes which seemed to look right into her very soul...

      All in all, it added up to something pretty special.

      Lucy glanced down, disconcerted by Alex Darcy’s direct gaze, saw his outstretched hand and offered her own, feeling a curious sensation as skin touched skin and contact was made. ‘You were looking a little lost,’ he murmured. ‘Sorry I’m late. I went to the bar for a drink.’

      ‘The flight...’ She took a calming breath and managed a smile. ‘It was delayed.’

      ‘Yes.’ Velvet eyes considered her with serious intent for a moment. ‘You look tired. Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s chaos.’

      He carried her bags outside. The warm, Mediterranean air was a welcome change after the cold, wet weather that Lucy had left behind in England, and as they walked across the tarmac to the airport car park she slipped off her knitted oatmeal jacket and draped it over her arm.

      ‘Quite a difference in temperature, I should imagine,’ Alex commented easily as he unlocked the doors of the sleek maroon Jaguar. ‘Are you looking forward to your stay?’

      Should she be honest? Lucy bit down on her bottom lip and decided that it wasn’t the best policy. Not now, not so soon after meeting her host. ‘Yes...’ she murmured awkwardly, ‘I’m sure it’s going to be...very...nice.’

      ‘You didn’t want to come.’ Dark eyes met hers over the sun-baked roof of the car. ‘That’s a pity.’

      So this man, this friend of Charles, liked to be direct. Lucy swallowed and inhaled before replying. ‘My step-brother can be very persuasive,’ she replied abruptly. ‘I’m sure you’re no happier about this arrangement than I am.’

      Broad shoulders were lifted in an easy shrug. The white shirt he wore billowed a little in the warm breeze. It looked good against his bronzed skin, she thought. She felt pasty suddenly, and decidedly unhealthy in comparison with the glowing vitality which exuded from the man opposite.

      ‘I have a large villa, a pool, a great view. You’re welcome to share it with me for a few days,’ he replied easily. ‘Charles said you needed the break.’

      ‘What СКАЧАТЬ