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An Old Enchantment
AMANDA BROWNING
Marriage on trial!From playboy lover… When gorgeous millionaire Raoul de Chevnair chose Leigh as his bride, it seemed he'd left his flirtatious bachelor days behind for good. But had he? Their marriage had scarcely begun before his playboy habits returned and Leigh found him in the arms of another woman… . … to faithful husband?That was five years ago. Leigh is no longer a naive teenage, bowled over by Raoul's charm. So when he vows to win back her trust, Leigh is determined not to give in that easily! It's all very well for Raoul to sweep her off on an exotic second honeymoon, but Leigh needs a lot of convincing that Raoul has decided to take his marriage vows seriously after all!Helen Brooks creates "rich characters, sparkling interplay and a riveting emotional conflict." - Romantic Times
An Old Enchantment
Amanda Browning
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u062b0b6b-035f-5c56-be0f-52e4976b188e)
CHAPTER TWO (#ubfa7ad2d-ebc4-5e1d-a475-310473c6ba9c)
CHAPTER THREE (#u48fe2a7e-e912-58fe-830b-1ad158830c9f)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub3224025-168e-5c34-881c-76db62cdce90)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
IT HAD been a long drive, particularly for someone who was not yet one hundred per cent fit. Maxi Ambro was tired and more than a little nervous, unprepared for the wave of emotion which rose to block her throat as she halted the car and stared at the lovely old house. Long, elegant fingers curled around the steering-wheel as moisture deepened the navy blue of her eyes. Lord, how she had missed this place, the people in it.
She loved them all, but she had hurt them badly more than once in her twenty-seven years—the last time not without cost to herself. At the memory, the face which had launched a thousand ranges of make-up and perfume, with its dramatically stunning bone-structure, teasing eyes and sensually promising lips, froze into an alien sternness.
Time was supposed to be the healer, and seven years was a long time. Plenty of water had flowed under the bridge since then. Enough, surely, to cleanse the past? A tremulous laugh betrayed her uncertainty. She hoped so, because she was coming home to try and sort out the mess she had made.
As she was about to put the white GTI into gear and continue up to the house, her ear caught the unmistakable roar of an engine coming up behind her. In horror she realised that her precipitate stop had virtually blocked the driveway, and the advancing driver had no idea because his view was limited by the vast spread of rhododendron bushes. Even had she not frozen, there would have been no time to move. At the speed the car was going, it was upon her in seconds, and then Maxi could only admire the skill with which the driver avoided what had seemed an inevitable collision, steering his Porsche through the small gap that was left between her and the shrubbery, and back on to the path with a squealing spray of grit.
Coming out of her daze, Maxi followed more circumspectly, parking behind the now motionless vehicle. The car might have been motionless, but the driver most certainly wasn’t. He climbed out with the precise movements of a man in the grip of a violent rage. Maxi let out a gasp. He certainly was a magnificent brute, and she’d seen enough men in her time to be a good judge. Over six feet tall, he was broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, each muscle outlined by the clinging cut of his jeans and the silk shirt, which revealed tanned forearms beneath rolled-up sleeves and a hint of dark hair at the open collar. She placed him in his thirties, a living, breathing powerhouse of male sexuality—which right that moment was bearing down on her with the express purpose of putting the silly little woman firmly in her place!
Aware she had been at fault, Maxi sought to appease. Dragging a hand through her ebony hair, she formed her features into their most winning smile and climbed out to meet him.
‘That had to be the slickest piece of manoeuvring I’ve ever seen,’ she began, even as her eyes took in the fact that anger in no way lessened the handsome lines of his face. It wouldn’t be a soft face; there was too much strength in it, too much certainty that this man knew exactly who and what he was, and didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Except, perhaps, herself, she realised, catching the glint in those flashing grey eyes.
He stopped a hair’s breadth away, towering over her, though she was by no means small herself, measuring five feet ten in her bare feet. His chest heaved as he drew in a deep breath. ‘So, you think that was slick, do you? Care to give me your impression of this?’ he growled fiercely, and, before she had time to do more than blink, he had caught her around the waist, sat down on one of the ornamental urns which bracketed the steps, and pulled her towards him. Before she knew what was happening his mouth had descended on hers.
Her struggle for freedom availed her not at all. He held her easily without breaking sweat, and released her just as easily, setting her on her feet and watching her sweep the hair out of tearful, angry eyes with evident satisfaction.
‘Well? Nothing to say?’ he mused sardonically.
Nothing to say! So many words were battling for freedom that they choked her! In the end, those that did break free made her cringe in their aftermath, so trite were they. ‘How dare you?’
Attractive lips curved in a sneer. ‘The typical spoilt brat. Be thankful you weren’t a man. I felt like punching you out. What the hell did you think you were playing at? Don’t you know better than to block the road like that?’
Maxi forgot her own admission of guilt. As far as she was concerned, he had forfeited an apology by his caveman tactics! ‘Don’t you know better than to drive around at that speed when you can’t see what’s up ahead?’
With animal grace, he rose to his feet, thumbs hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. ‘This happens to be a private road.’
‘Then why were you on it?’ she shot back swiftly.
Straight black brows lifted. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I was invited. Were you?’
A small frown cut into her brow. Invited to what? Was her mother throwing a party? Of all the bad timing! Yet what did it matter that she hadn’t been invited? This man clearly didn’t know who she was, and she was under no obligation to explain her unannounced arrival to him.
‘It just so happens that I don’t need an invitation,’ she declared with a degree of certainty she was actually far from feeling.
‘Is that so?’ he murmured, and studied her thoughtfully. When he laughed, it was an unpleasant sound that set out to unnerve her. ‘Doubtless it’s more comfortable to think that way when you know you’d never get one.’
The assurance inherent in his statement rattled her nerves. ‘Just what is that supposed to mean?’ she asked shortly, hearing her own tremulousness quite clearly.
Bracing his feet apart, her tormentor crossed his arms and eyed her in icy amusement. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’
Startled, she stared up at him. Should she know him? His features were striking, and she was pretty certain she would have remembered them had they ever met. Yet there was an indefinable something which eluded her attempts to grasp it. She shook her head. No, if their paths had crossed it must have been at one of the innumerable functions she attended. People, especially men, were often inclined to claim friendship from what had been no more than a polite exchange of pleasantries. However, it wasn’t unknown for a man to feel slighted that she’d failed to recognise him. She knew the signs of a bruised male ego well, and his unpleasantness was undoubtedly due to it. Although she wouldn’t have thought a man this attractive would be in that class, she put on a professional smile and prepared to pour oil on troubled waters.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause offence. In my line of business I meet so many people its hard to keep track of names and faces. I’m sure we must have had a very pleasant conversation, and perhaps we can talk it over later, but—’
‘Devereaux.’
His interruption halted her mid-flow, and she blinked up at him in surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’
His smile was icy. ‘There’s no need. Just spare me the bored socialite bit.’
Completely thrown, she could only continue to gawp at him. ‘W-what...?’
‘Devereaux is my name. Kerr Devereaux,’ he went on hardly, his Christian name sounding like the everyday ‘car’. ‘There’s no need to tell me who you are—we have long memories around here. I recognised you at once. Maxi Ambro, the advertiser’s dream. Well, let me tell you something, Maxi, you picked one hell of a time to do your prodigal daughter act. Why don’t you do everyone a great big favour and go back where you came from?’
Maxi went cold to her heart. If a complete stranger felt this way about her, what would the reaction of her family be? Automatically she stiffened her spine in preparation for the confrontation that was coming. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t let this man make her turn tail and run.
‘You’re right, Mr Devereaux, I don’t remember you. But even if I did, you don’t have the right to send me away. Only my family can do that,’ she told him icily.
‘You’d give them the satisfaction of telling you to your face?’ Kerr Devereaux studied her stiff figure once more. ‘You’ve got guts.’
If she hadn’t had, the past seven years would never have been. ‘Isn’t there a local school of thought who consider it’s what I deserve?’ she retorted cynically, allowing a small careless smile to curl her lips.
He didn’t like her reaction, that was for sure. ‘There is, and I’m a founder member of it.’
Maxi laughed. She could have bet money on that. So, he didn’t think she was suitably repentant? Hadn’t paid all her dues? He knew nothing, nor ever would. Nor would he ever see her crawl. ‘Don’t tell me, you’re the local Pooh-Bah, are you? Self-appointed, naturally.’
‘For someone with a brain the size of a pea, you spout a fine line in sarcasm,’ he sniped, straightening.
Her teeth snapped together audibly. ‘You’re not so bad in the insult line yourself,’ she riposted, and caught the flash of his teeth as his smile broadened.
‘Well, honey, I tell you, I just look at you and I’m inspired,’ he drawled, raking a hand through hair that glinted blue-black in the late afternoon sunlight.
Maxi’s patience was becoming dangerously thin. She had been nervous enough without this. Stranger or not, his barbs found their mark. ‘Just who are you, Mr Devereaux?’
‘So it’s true what they say—out of sight, out of mind,’ he mocked.
That was the last straw. ‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this stupid cat-and-mouse game!’ she declared, and, turning, reached into the back of her car for her case and handbag.
Kerr Devereaux eyed the former in acid amusement. ‘A suitcase? I hope you weren’t planning on a long stay; you may be disappointed. Or has fame gone to your head? Didn’t it occur to you that you might not be wanted?’
Lifting her case, she threw him a glare. ‘Mr Devereaux, you are, without doubt, the most obnoxious man it’s ever been my misfortune to meet! You clearly don’t want my company, so let me relieve you of it!’ It was a good line to end on, and with a falsely sweet smile she strode away. Or tried to. Unfortunately her second step brought her on to her left leg. Pain shot through her hip, and with a cry of alarm, she felt it go under her.
Before she could touch the ground though, strong hands caught her under her arms and yanked her upright again. ‘What happened?’
The impartial concern in his voice brought colour to her pale cheeks. How stupid to have forgotten her weakened hip! Now she had him to thank for not landing in an undignified heap on the ground. Why did fate have to be so unkind? Pulling free of his hold, she gritted her teeth.
‘It must have been a stone. I’m OK now.’ Mentally keeping her fingers crossed, she tested her weight on the injured leg and breathed in sharply as it protested.
‘Some stone,’ Kerr observed drily, slipping a hand around her waist and taking her weight.
‘I don’t need your help,’ Maxi protested, to no avail. ‘I can manage!’ This as he relieved her forcibly of her case.
Grey eyes lanced into her. ‘You can manage to crawl. Is that what you want?’
He knew the answer as well as she did. She’d rather die! ‘No,’ she gritted out.
Now his eyes danced as he fended off her daggers. ‘And they tell me you were such an angelic child. Who’d have thought you’d turn out to be such a bitch?’
Lord, he made her blood boil. ‘Haven’t you heard that if you can’t say something nice about somebody, don’t say anything at all?’ she sniped witheringly.
‘There are exceptions to every rule,’ he shot back swiftly. ‘How’s the leg now?’
Swerved from her intention of lobbing a pithy reply, Maxi tested her weight instead. This time there was no shaft of pain, just the well-known dull ache. ‘It’s much better,’ she said, looking up, and added grudgingly, ‘Thanks.’
He watched her take a few experimental, limping steps. ‘So, what happened to your leg?’
Rubbing at the aching joint, Maxi sighed. ‘I was in an accident a couple of months ago. The brakes failed on my car.’
Kerr’s frown of concern was genuine. ‘This one?’ His finger jabbed at the white convertible.
‘Hardly,’ Maxi admitted with a wry laugh. ‘That was a write-off. I was lucky I just hurt my leg.’ Something of an understatement, when it had been broken in several places. ‘I had to get this automatic because I still can’t put too much strain on my leg. As you may have noticed. It plays up when I’ve been sitting or standing too long.’
‘You’re lucky it wasn’t your face,’ he observed, and her smile faded.
‘Wasn’t I?’ she agreed, unaware that her too composed features revealed more than they concealed. All she did know was that nothing happened without a purpose. It had been a kind of short, sharp shock, making her take stock of her life and where she wanted it to go. But before she could go on, the past had to be laid to rest.
Which brought her back sharply to the present. ‘Where is everybody?’ she thought to ask rather belatedly.
‘Out on the terrace, I should imagine,’ Kerr Devereaux offered, setting her case and handbag aside. ‘You’d better leave those here for now. We can go round the side.’
‘You seem to be pretty familiar with the house. And you still haven’t explained who you are,’ Maxi challenged as he took her by the arm and steered her around the building.
‘I’m familiar with it because I’m a frequent visitor here. As for who I am...’ His voice took on an odd inflexion. ‘You’ll find out any minute now. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when the flak starts flying,’ he added cryptically, and said no more.
Maxi’s shoes beat a staccato tattoo on the stone flags as she walked beside him, mind seething with question, but as they came round to the back of the house she stopped wondering who he was and concentrated instead on the group of people on the terrace. If it was a party, then it was a very small one. As yet, none of the four had heard their approach, and she was given a few seconds’ grace to study the three members of her family. Her heart contracted. Her father looked so much older. His hair had turned grey and there were deep lines on his intelligent face. Beside him, her mother looked very little altered, save for two wings of grey at her temples.
Maxi didn’t recognise the good-looking young man who stood with his arm around her sister’s shoulder. Fliss had matured in the last seven years, turning into the beauty she had always promised to be. She was smiling up at the man, and the look in her eyes said it all. So did the look in his. They were in love, and Maxi suddenly felt like bursting into tears. Tears of mingled sadness and joy, because this was what she had one day hoped to see.
However, there was no more time for thought, because their approach had been detected. Four smiling faces turned their way, and three smiles faded instantly. The shocked silence that fell hit Maxi like a blow, even though she had been expecting a strong reaction. It seemed from a very long way away that she heard Kerr Devereaux speaking.
‘Sorry I’m late, everyone, but I found a visitor on your doorstep.’
If he had said he’d found an unexploded bomb, she doubted if the shock to her family could have been greater. Their reaction to that shock varied greatly. Sir John Ambro, after remaining frozen, pointedly turned his back and walked into the house without another word. It was a slap in the face that Maxi had expected years ago, but not now, and she caught her breath sharply. As she watched, her mother ran a distracted hand through her hair and turned anxious eyes on her youngest daughter. As well she might, for Fliss had gone rigid, her whole expression one of utter revulsion.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded coldly.
‘Now, Felicity, darling, that’s no way to talk,’ Lady Ambro reproved, albeit in a shaken tone, watching the once happy gathering disintegrating around her.
Fliss banged down the glass she had been holding. ‘Of course it is. If she’s back, it can only be to cause trouble! Why else would she pick today of all days?’
‘Hush, darling,’ her mother said again, and turned to her other daughter, fixing a shaky smile to her lips. ‘Maxine, you’ve given us all such a surprise.’
Maxi could feel herself begin trembling badly, as much from tiredness as pure reaction to her reception. She knew Kerr Devereaux must feel it too, for he still had hold of her arm. Although she would rather it were anyone else, she welcomed the tightening of his hold in grudging support. ‘I would have telephoned to let you know I was coming, but—’
‘You knew you’d have been told not to bother,’ Fliss interrupted scornfully, and not without a certain amount of truth. ‘Oh, why couldn’t you have just stayed away for good?’
It was a question that reduced everyone to silence. Almost, that was.
‘Would somebody mind telling me what’s going on? I thought this was supposed to be a celebration?’ the young man at Fliss’s side asked in bewilderment.
Fliss, her lips trembling, turned her face into his shoulder. ‘It was, until she arrived.’
Still patently all at sea, he placed a protective arm about her, staring at Maxi. ‘But who is she? She looks familiar. Do I know you?’ This last was a direct question that Kerr Devereaux chose to answer.
‘It seems to me that introductions are in order. Believe it or not, Andy, this is the very same Maxi Ambro you were at school with. Maxi, meet Dr Andrew Devereaux, my little brother and,’ here he consulted the gold watch on his wrist, ‘as of fifteen minutes ago, your future brother-in-law.’
It seemed it was destined to be a day of shocks, for as Maxi stared at the man who as a boy, she now recalled, had bedevilled her early school days, he was gaping at her. Her fame, it seemed, had gone before her.
‘So you’re...’
‘The black sheep of the family,’ Maxi finished for him, finding defence in attack.
To her surprise he shook his head and smiled broadly. ‘Actually I was about to say that you’re the famous model we see everywhere. I never connected the name with the terror I knew in school,’ Andy declared, and reached out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
