Seducing The Enemy. Emma Darcy

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СКАЧАТЬ to the end. Having been through four husbands, Marlene was enjoying a succession of toy boys and would undoubtedly fancy going out the same way.

      Daniel didn’t anticipate deep grieving from either parent. Vexation and titillation respectively. A sad reflection of Barry’s place in their lives. It wasn’t fair, Daniel thought, as he’d often thought over the years, seeing the careless treatment of Barry by his self-indulgent mother and the cool toleration dealt out to him by his father. It wasn’t Barry’s fault he had been a mistake to both of them. Though there was no denying he’d developed plenty of faults of his own along the way to this final, fatal night.

      Nevertheless, it felt wrong to do nothing when all the vultures would be gathering to pick at the juicy bits attached to Barry’s death. He should be there, at the motel, monitoring what was happening, insisting on some dignity to the proceedings. Death was so damned naked, respecting nothing. Maybe he could do something for the woman, as well. No one deserved to be stripped in public.

      The answering machine beeped an incoming call. Daniel left it to play itself out, striding quickly out of his private library office where he’d been studying the brief for tomorrow’s court appearance. He knew what he needed to know for the line of questioning he’d chosen. Tomorrow’s work could wait upon tomorrow. Tonight he owed to Barry. Someone should care, and there was no one else.

      It was getting on towards midnight by the time Daniel forced his way through the bedlam outside the motel, police cars, television news vans, reporters and photographers pressing for whatever story angles they could grab, not to mention a crowd of curious spectators drawn by the unusual activity. Daniel headed for the police cordon keeping people from the ambulance, which was backed up to a room midway along one of the motel’s residential wings. Having identified himself to one of the officers, he was immediately escorted inside.

      The next ten minutes were a blur. The only thing that really registered was the certain knowledge Barry was truly gone. The life that had made the person he knew so well was not there any more. The ambulance men wheeled the stretcher away, and under Daniel’s watchful eye, a proper decorum was maintained in the immediate vicinity until the departure of the ambulance could be effected.

      The woman had been moved to an adjoining room. Daniel was asked by the police officer in charge if he would like to hear her statement, which was about to be taken. Determined to know the worst and deal with it as best he could, he quickly agreed.

      His heart plummeted when he saw who the woman was. Isabel Mason! The supposedly purer-than-snow wife of the most vocal family-values politician in the current government. Barry was certainly going out with a bang! This scandal would reach epic proportions.

      It amazed him that she looked so composed, sitting calmly at a table, sipping at a cup of tea or coffee. He would have expected her to be in floods of tears, or at least showing some signs of distress. Her hand wasn’t even trembling. A policewoman sat by her, but it seemed to Daniel no comfort was required.

      “Miss Parker?”

      Isabel Mason looked directly at the chief officer, as though it was she being addressed.

      “Are you ready now?”

      She was being addressed! Daniel frowned. Did she think she could get away with giving a false name?

      “Yes.” A crisp consent. She glanced pointedly at Daniel, clearly wanting him identified.

      “The deceased’s brother, Daniel Wolfe,” the police officer obliged. Then with an introductory wave, “Miss Annabel Parker.”

      Annabel Parker? The journalist who’d been snapping at Barry’s heels over his dubious dealings? She was a dead ringer for Isabel Mason!

      Then she looked at him directly, and twin bolts of green fire zapped his brain. It was a fierce mental blast, hurling him off into a far space where he existed only as some infinitesimal speck, too insignificant to claim her attention. Absolutely no help was required by this woman. Having disposed of him, she returned her gaze to the chief police officer and started her account of her meeting with Barry.

      Daniel sat down. She certainly wasn’t Isabel Mason. She had the same glorious red hair, rippling down to swirl around her shoulders. And the same features, though there was something stronger about the bone structure of her face, a cleaner, sharper definition. The most striking difference came from within. This woman’s mind had a brutal force that was light-years removed from the soft, pliable femininity he’d seen emanating from Neil Mason’s wife.

      He watched her mouth as she spoke. Words were shaped with precision, her lips firmly sculptured, not a trace of quivering uncertainty. He listened to what she said, fascinated by the cool, clear logic of her story. Brick by brick, she laid a convincing foundation for her convincing conclusion. It was a formidable performance.

      He’d no sooner thought the word performance than she looked at him again, another stunning blaze that dared him to challenge anything she said. It promised she’d wipe the floor with him.

      Daniel said nothing. He was too intrigued to want to do anything but watch her. She was magnificent. A unique entity. He’d never met anyone like her.

      She wore black, a ribbed sweater that moulded superbly rounded breasts. A short, narrow skirt revealed long, shapely legs, sexily emphasised in black tights. She was tall, a good fit for him. What would it feel like to be entwined with a woman who was fired with an incredible store of secret energy? That could be an adventure worth having.

      He’d like to know the rest of her, too.

      She had everyone else bluffed.

      Barry couldn’t have done it better himself, and he’d been a genius at sliding out of sticky spots. The story was completely sanitised of sex. The only scandal emerging from it would be a political one, and that had been brewing anyway.

      Bravo, Annabel Parker!

      The truth—whatever it was—was successfully skittled.

      Daniel knew she was lying.

      CHAPTER THREE

      FREEDOM...

      Annabel heaved a contented sigh. It was marvellous not to be constantly on guard. She revelled in the sense of tranquillity that flowed from this beautiful place in far north Queensland, thousands of kilometres away from the frenzy of scandals still breaking in Sydney. From this corner of her cabin, where only an insect screen separated her from the primitive splendour on view, she could gaze out over the lush rainforest to the sea and feel blissfully removed from the corrupt touch of mankind.

      It was an illusion, of course. The cabin was part of a wilderness tourist resort built to capitilise on precisely this feeling. Nevertheless, great care had been taken to nestle it into the environment. None of the buildings was intrusive. They didn’t spoil. This was the only place on the planet where two world heritage wonders met—the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree Rainforest—and the Coconut Beach Rainforest Resort offered the experience of both within a context of personal comfort.

      The only sounds were made by birds and animals. No television or telephones in the guest accommodation. No newspapers. Even the people here went about their activities in a quiet and unobtrusive manner. Peace...sheer heaven to Annabel.

      The weeks since Barry Wolfe’s death had been hectic and highly stressful. Thankfully, that was all behind her—the frantic substitution СКАЧАТЬ