Act Of Betrayal. Sara Craven

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ course,’ he said briskly. ‘It’s on the right at the top of the stairs. And I’ll make some coffee.’

      As she made hurried repairs to the ravages which emotion had done to her face, Laura wondered wryly whether Alan had seen she was upset, but been too tactful to enquire about it. On balance, she decided the dimness of the light in the hall had probably been to her advantage, and he hadn’t noticed a thing. She hoped not, anyway. She didn’t want to have to embark on lengthy explanations.

      He was emerging from the kitchen with a tray as she came downstairs, and she followed him into a sizeable, cluttered living room. There was a large desk under the window, and a frankly sagging sofa in front of the empty fireplace, flanked by a couple of easy chairs which had also seen better days.

      But for all that, the room had a cosy welcoming air, which in Laura’s view, the Caswell mansion totally lacked.

      The coffee was good too. Alan was fussy about the blends he chose, and it showed. She accepted the pretty pottery beaker he handed her with a murmured word of thanks.

      He perched on the arm of a chair, smiling eagerly. ‘I’m glad I didn’t ‘phone and find you out. I get the impression your uncle’s housekeeper doesn’t altogether appreciate taking messages from me.’

      Laura smiled rather ruefully. ‘It’s no fault of yours. I’m afraid that she resents me. She’s been with the family for years, and my uncle thought I could take some of the housekeeping burdens off her shoulders, but she doesn’t see it that way at all. Anyway, why did you want to speak to me?’

      ‘I’ve been asked to cover the opening of a brand-new restaurant in Burngate tonight,’ he said. ‘The Echo were going to send Linda Watson from staff, because there’ll be free champagne, but as she’s gone down with some virus they’ve had to fall back on me.’ He gave a self-deprecating grin. ‘I’m allowed to take guests, so I wondered if you’d go with me?’

      In any other circumstances, Laura thought she would probably have made an excuse. It didn’t sound like her sort of junket at all, but tonight the last thing she wanted to do was sit at home and brood.

      She said lightly, ‘It sounds like fun. Pick me up early, and have a drink with us first.’

      His face lit up. ‘I’d really like that.’ He paused. ‘Your family don’t object to you going out with a struggling hack?’

      ‘Is that how you see yourself?’ Laura asked. She gave a faint shrug. ‘Why should they object? I’m not a child anymore. I have my own life to live.’

      ‘I suppose so.’ He spoke slowly, as if measuring his words. ‘But do you live it? I mean—you seem so sheltered sometimes.’

      ‘I assure you I don’t feel it,’ she told him drily. ‘But if you’re nervous of my ivory tower, we could always meet in a bar.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ he denied hastily. ‘I’d like to meet your uncle.’

      He didn’t actually say ‘at long last’ but his tone implied it, and Laura bit her lip. Clearly her attempts to keep their relationship on a strictly casual basis hadn’t been as subtle as she’d hoped, and now Alan was taking her decision to introduce him into the family circle as a step towards a greater intimacy. She could only hope she wasn’t starting something she’d be unable to control.

      She’d never told Alan any details about her personal life. To him, she was just Laura Caswell, and he had no idea there had ever been a Laura Wingard. It had never seemed necessary to tell him, but now it occurred to her that she was going to have to, and she wondered how he would react.

      He said suddenly, ‘Where do you go to, Laura?’

      Her eyes flicked questioningly to his face. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I’m not even sure myself. It’s just sometimes when we’re together, you seem to—vanish—somewhere inside yourself. It makes me wonder.’ He laughed rather awkwardly. ‘Perhaps it’s just that I’m not very exhilarating company.’

      Her glance held compunction. Obviously, he needed reassurance too. ‘It certainly isn’t that,’ she said gently. ‘I don’t think I even realise I’m doing it.’

      There was a pause, then he said, ‘If you’ve got problems, it can help sometimes to share them.’ He sounded tentative, unsure, as if aware he was offering himself in a new role, and she was grateful, even if she couldn’t be sure it was what she wanted from him.

      She drank down her coffee, and rose. ‘If we’re going on the town, then I’d better do something about my appearance. I don’t want to put my fellow revellers off their food.’

      ‘You’d never do that,’ he protested.

      She knew that he wanted to kiss her, and she made herself yield as he took her in his arms, hoping that the touch of his lips would turn her to fire, totally erasing the memory of that other devastating kiss.

      Oh, Alan, forgive me, she thought remorsefully, as her hands slid up to clasp his shoulders in the simulation of passion. She felt his arms tighten round her in response, his mouth move on hers with growing confidence. Laura closed her eyes, waiting, praying for the alchemy to happen. After all, he was young, he was attractive in a quiet way, and she wanted to want him. She wanted another man to kindle the deep flame in her body which Jason had always lit so effortlessly.

      Since their parting, she’d been in a kind of limbo, leading a half-life, but now she wanted to be whole again, and Alan could be the man to make her so.

      But once again, there were no miracles. The kiss was pleasant, but it ignited no fierce, answering excitement within her, and it was a relief when he let her go—reluctantly, but without initiating any further intimacies.

      There was tenderness in his face when he looked at her, and a slight triumph as well, which she supposed was understandable. She’d never invited caresses in the past, and she’d always been the first to draw back.

      He said huskily, ‘Well, I’ll see you later then,’ and Laura tried not flinch at the new possessive note in his voice.

      She said steadily, ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ and wished with all her heart that it could be true.

      Celia was nowhere to be seen when she got back to the house, her lounger in the garden unoccupied, a discarded magazine tossed on the grass beside it, and an empty jug which had once contained orange juice still reposing with its used glass on a wrought iron table nearby. Laura put the lounger away in the summer-house, and carried the other things across the lawn towards the house.

      She was almost at the french windows which opened into the drawing room, when she heard Celia laughing, the low throaty chuckle which meant there was a man about.

      Her cousin was entertaining one of her numerous boyfriends, Laura decided resignedly. If it was Greg Arnold, she could only hope he would save his more risque stories until she was out of the room.

      She was almost tempted to retrace her steps, and go in by the kitchen entrance, but she told herself forcefully not to be so silly.

      She was actually inside the room, with retreat impossible, when she saw the man sharing the wide sofa with Celia was Jason.

      ‘Hello, sweetie,’ СКАЧАТЬ