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Torn By Desire
Torn By Desire
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Torn By Desire

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‘Neither suggestion is worth wasting words on, Mr Guy Latham, but I’m going to do it nevertheless. Both are an insult, to me and your brother. My God, if I was trapped with the pair of you on a desert island surrounded by shark-infested waters I know who I’d turn to.’

‘You’d go for a swim, sweetheart,’ he mocked. ‘Because I’m not to be trusted by implication, my brother’s not to be trusted because of fact. Remember that when the heat of the Mediterranean keeps you awake at night.’

‘I’m not listening to this—’

He caught her arm as she was about to swing away. He pulled her close to him, knocking the last defiant breath from her lungs. His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her upper arm. He repelled her— so much so that she felt faintness dragging at her.

‘Don’t forget, Kate, I’m on your side.’

‘Who’s taking sides?’ she blurted out, struggling in his grip.

‘You will when the time comes. Take care, sweet-heart,’ he warned. ‘I don’t think you fully realise what you have let yourself in for. Don’t play games with my brother and don’t deny you have something going for him in your heart—’

‘I have not!’ Kate exploded in defence of her heart and her morality. This was ridiculous; Guy Latham was as bad as his gossipy staff back in London. OK, so she sometimes toyed with thoughts of Conrad, little fantasies to prove to herself that she was human and needed what all women needed—a bit of warmth in her life. But they were only fantasies. Not once had she ever opened them up to be ridiculed.

‘I’ve known for a long time,’ he breathed hard against her. ‘I’ve watched you in the office when my brother’s walked in on his monthly calls. I knew for sure when I walked into this room earlier. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and I doubt you registered anything that was said. You talk with your eyes, sweetheart, and my brother is a very capable reader. He’s off limits to a little gold-digger like you so if I were you I’d cool it.’

He let her go then—so suddenly that her arms fell heavily to her sides. She glared at him, her heart stinging, digesting the warning, fighting him inwardly, deeply shocked that he had put that dreadful interpretation on the interest she had shown in Conrad. He had a nerve. Who the devil did he think she was? Some mindless little tramp who only saw the man’s wealth and status? Conrad Latham didn’t play games; he was too mature for that. He was a real man and Guy Latham had no right to judge him by his own standards.

‘If I wasn’t employed by the pair of you I’d walk out of here and catch the next flight home,’ she seethed, her eyes bright and warring with his.

‘If I didn’t need you so badly I’d let you go,’ he grated in return. ‘And don’t get any smart ideas that the feeling is personal. Your bright little brain is needed here and precious little else. Remember that.’

‘I don’t need any such reminders,’ she flamed. She knew she was risking her career by being so outspoken but she wasn’t going to allow him to get away with his insults. ‘I didn’t think for a minute that I was asked down here for decorative purposes and I resent your innuendoes and your warnings and-’

He held his hands up in mock defence and Kate stopped and bit her lower lip. She’d gone too far, way over the top, but he had forced it out of her. She wasn’t one of the girls back in London, pandering to his smooth talk, swooning when he walked through the offices. She wanted a career in his company and she was going the wrong way about it by fighting Guy Latham this way. But what price pride?

‘Shall we stop this right now before it gets out of hand?’ he suggested calmly.

Her eyes fought his for one last time and then her shoulders slumped. She didn’t like him but she had to get on with him if they were to work together.

‘Yes, yes, we’d better,’ she agreed softly.

‘Good. Let’s put personalities aside and get down to some work.’

He moved away from her and went to his desk and she watched him cautiously. He was still angry, his shoulders stiff and unrelenting. It was odd, but in spite of how she felt about him she had to admit that he was nearly as attractive as his brother. He was thicker set and more sporty and in a few years he’d have the elegance and sophistication of Conrad—if he worked at it.

He turned suddenly and caught her watching him and Kate felt her temperature rise. Heaven forbid that he might guess what she was thinking. She lowered her eyes and sank down into her chair and switched her brain to business mode. That was what she was here for and as far as work was concerned she was determined not to give him reason for more displeasure.

They broke for coffee at eleven, a maid bringing a tray of coffee and small pastries into the office and depositing it on Kate’s desk as if she was supposed to serve the lord and master. Kate did, silently, moving across to his desk and putting a cup of coffee down next to him. Lorraine came into the office to break the stillness with her chirpy chatter and Kate left them to go to the toilet.

The modern suite of offices tucked away at the back of the villa intrigued Kate. It was cool and comfortable and the perfect environment to work in away from the heat of the day. She longed for lunchtime, though, so that she could return to that lovely courtyard with its evocative scents and its Andalusian ambience. Already she was seeing it as a sanctuary. A place to gather her thoughts.

Though she had worked hard this morning and tried to block out Guy’s awful warnings, they had broken through at intervals. The fact that Guy had noticed the way she had looked at his brother had deeply shocked her. She hadn’t realised her feelings had shown. In fact she hadn’t realised her feelings were that strong to have shown. She respected Conrad enormously and allowed herself a few fluttering fantasies, but was she really looking for love?

‘How are you settling?’

Kate swung round in the airy, marble-floored corridor that separated the offices and faced Conrad, her heart fluttering again at his kindly query.

‘Just fine.’ She smiled shyly. ‘You’re very well equipped here.’

A dark brow rose with humour at her choice of words and Kate saw the double entendre she had unwittingly uttered. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks and it deepened as his smoky grey eyes locked with hers.

‘Of course,’ he uttered softly. ‘I aim to please whenever possible.’ The words hung in the air till he added, ‘Do feel free to speak up if I can offer you more.’

Kate’s insides lurched and Guy’s warnings thrummed in her head. But no, she was taking this all the wrong way. Conrad was a gentleman and it was because of Guy’s ridiculous suggestions that she was seeing this exchange of words as something it wasn’t. Conrad wasn’t a flirt. Conrad was simply being the perfect boss and the perfect host as usual.

Kate smiled. ‘Everything is lovely. I feel very privileged to be here, Mr Latham—’

‘Conrad, please. The environment is very informal here,’ he told her with a beguiling smile, teeth as sparklingly perfect as his brother’s.

It was Kate’s turn to raise a brow. That wasn’t what Guy had implied earlier and when she had called him Mr Latham on their dinner date he hadn’t insisted on Conrad.

‘Conrad, then,’ she murmured.

‘That’s better. Now don’t forget, any problems come to me. I want your stay here to be as pleasurable as possible. I’m afraid Guy takes life far too seriously at times. Do you swim, Kate?’

The question took her aback for a second. ‘Yes, yes, I do.’

‘Splendid. You must join us by the pool this afternoon, during siesta.’

‘Thank you; I’d like that.’ The thought was already revitalising her stretched nerves. She smiled again and was about to open her mouth to thank him for the guest house when a distant phone ringing diverted Conrad’s attention.

‘Please excuse me.’ He smiled and turned away and Kate nodded.

Her heart was pounding happily and she was stepping on clouds as she went back to her own office. As soon as she opened the door she landed back to earth with a bump. Lorraine had her arms wrapped around Guy and jumped guiltily as Kate entered the room. Guy threw her a dark look which Kate found herself returning with equal black poison. She wouldn’t have cared if they had been writhing in passion on the leather couch against the wall, but what stung her was all those warnings he had meted out to her about this being work and not pleasure.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she uttered, not without sarcasm.

‘Knock in future before you come in, Kate,’ Lorraine scythed at her, and straightening her laceedged top over her narrow pencil skirt, she strode towards the door Kate had left ajar. ‘I’ll be ready at two, Guy.’ The door slammed after her.

Kate sat at her console, punched the keyboard viciously and stared obliquely at the screen.

‘Yes, knock before coming in, Kate.’ Guy repeated into the uncomfortable stillness that had enveloped the room after Lorraine’s brittle exit.

Kate held her lips tightly clamped. She wasn’t going to say one word and she didn’t.

They broke for lunch and siesta at one o’clock, Guy reminding her to be back on duty at four-thirty before leaving the room. Kate nearly stuck her tongue out at the back of the door but resisted the temptation for fear of Guy poking his face round the door and catching her. He already thought her…

What exactly did he think of her? she wondered as she left the office suite, the hot Mediterranean air hitting her, in sharp contrast to the cool of the air-conditioned office. He thought she had a good brain for one thing; not much else, though. Oh, she’d forgotten, a gold-digger. Huh! She should care.

The perfumed courtyard was a welcome refuge. After the morning’s idiosyncrasies she couldn’t face a swim, even with the thought of joining the man she so admired. She understood why everyone broke off for a siesta in the afternoon; fatigue was dragging at her very bones.

‘Charo?’ she called out as she stepped into the coolness of the stone-floored guest house.

Silence. Kate was relieved. She didn’t want to talk or even breathe in this heat. Her head was enough to cope with. She changed into a cool sarong over her lacy underwear, made herself a coffee and cut a chunk of crispy bread and a slice of goat’s cheese, sat in the shade of the vines to eat it, and then shifted to the tiny garden that led off an archway from the courtyard.

‘Heaven,’ she breathed as she collapsed into a cushioned cane lounger under a knobbly old olive tree. Her eyes were heavy as she gazed up at the clumps of fat green olives amidst the spiky silvery leaves. Virgin oil, she mused, and it was her last thought.

‘You idiot!’

Kate woke with a start, blinked fearfully and tried to sit up. She was alone and yet she could have sworn someone had shouted her awake.

‘Oh, no!’ she breathed in agony, and gazed down at her left leg. Her sarong was gaping open, right up to her thigh, and the whole of one long, shapely leg was exposed to the punishing rays of the sun. The top of her leg was worse than the rest, the more tender skin red with inflammation.

‘Stay still,’ Guy Latham growled as he came through the archway to the secret garden, his hands full of stiff, spiky green…cactus!

Kate squealed in alarm as Guy came towards her with them.

‘What the hell—?’

‘Yes, well you might cry hell, sweetheart,’ he growled again as he dropped the spikes at her feet and in one deft movement hauled her, in the chair, further under the shade of the olive tree. ‘Don’t you know never to sunbathe at this time of day in Andalusia?’

‘I wasn’t sunbathing,’ Kate defended herself angrily, and then winced painfully as she tried to move her stiffened leg. It felt as if her skin had shrunk and was too small for her bones. ‘I…I must have fallen asleep. The sun moved,’ she bleated weakly.

‘Well, it does that,’ he grated sarcastically, and proceeded to split open the succulent, spiny leaves he had brought with him.

‘What on earth are you doing with those?’ she cried, shrinking away from him.

He sat on the edge of the lounger and grasped her ankle firmly with one hand and with the other scooped out a pale jelly-like substance from the insides of the spines.

‘No!’ Kate cried, and then instantly let out a small cry of relief as he slapped the cooling jelly over the worst of her raw thigh. ‘Oh, I don’t believe it!’ she gasped, and slumped back against the lounger and sighed deeply. It was bliss, sheer heaven as he gently patted the jelly over her fiery skin to cool it.

She opened her eyes when the crisis was over and stared at his fingers as they smoothed over her thigh. Then she was in crisis again as one delicious sensation moved over for another. His touch was so sensuous—astonishing, coming from him. Her whole body tensed and she wanted him to stop but he wasn’t about to. More cooling jelly was applied till she thought she couldn’t stand the wondrous feeling a second longer. She tried to pull her leg back out of his reach but he held onto her ankle firmly.

‘Keep still,’ he ordered quietly.

Kate said a silent prayer of thanks that it was only her thigh that was affected. Supposing it was her chest that had been so painfully exposed to the sun’s rays? A hot flush engulfed her and she let out a small cry at the thought. What on earth was happening to her?

‘Don’t,’ she pleaded weakly. ‘That’s enough.’

‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he uttered under his breath.

There was a sliver of stinging skin on her inner thigh that had caught the sun as well, and he turned her ankle to gain access to it.

Kate pulled away, shrank back from him, her eyes wide with terror, her heart nearly seizing. Guy held on more firmly. He looked up to catch the panic in her eyes. He frowned.

‘I wonder if you would be quite so reticent with my brother if it was he tending your sunburn?’

Kate kicked out at that nasty suggestion, jerked her legs so sharply that the pain shot through the whole of her body.

‘Stop being so touchy and keep still. I’m doing this for your benefit, not mine,’ he growled.

‘Huh,’ she huffed angrily. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you were getting anything out of it for yourself, though you’re certainly taking your time about it! Give it to me!’ She snatched at the thick succulent and instantly cried out again as one of the sharp spines dug into her thumb. ‘Ouch!’

Guy tutted impatiently and grabbed at her hand. To Kate’s complete horror he stuck her thumb in his mouth and sucked at it. Eyes so wide that they hurt, Kate watched as he drew sensuously on her thumb, tenderly running his tongue over the spot the spine had jabbed. His eyes, hooded and oh, so dark, held hers as he did it.

Kate gasped with the shock of what he was doing and the way it was affecting her. Her insides twisted alarmingly. She wrenched her thumb, her thigh, her whole being out of his reach. She was on her feet in a trice, pain shooting down her leg at the sudden movement and rocking her with the horror of it all.

‘What are you, for heaven’s sake—some blood-starved vampire?’ she screeched.

She didn’t wait for an answer but hobbled painfully out of the garden, through the courtyard and into the house. She stood trembling at the kitchen sink, running the cold-water tap and trying in vain to catch her ragged breath. She felt sick, horribly so. She fought it, though, because she didn’t want to embarrass herself even more by fainting or actually being sick in front of him. Oh, misery. Why had she fallen asleep so carelessly?

She heard movement behind her, bottles in the fridge clinking.

‘Don’t drink the tap water; here—take this.’

She swung angrily to face him, afraid she was going to burst into tears. Her thigh ached miserably, her thumb stung, her head was about to split and she was going to be sick. She grasped at the tumbler of bottled water he held out for her and drank thirstily. It was just what she needed to bring her equilibrium back.

She sank the empty glass into the sink. ‘Anything else?’ she questioned fiercely. ‘It seems when you are around I can do nothing right!’

He looked at her and shrugged. ‘Your personal life does have a knack of going awry when I’m not around.’

‘You think?’ she retorted.

‘I know,’ he responded firmly. ‘You need wet-nursing.’

‘I need nothing of the sort. So I’ve made a few mistakes—missed dinner, overslept, dressed inappropriately, looked at your brother the wrong way, fallen asleep in the sun—crumbs, none of them certifiable!’

‘So why are you making so much fuss about them?’

‘I’m not! You are the one…the one…’

‘The one what?’

All the breath went from her then and she lifted her trembling fingers to knead her hot brow. What was happening here? He threw her all the time. Made her feel gauche and so terribly out of it. This assignment was going all wrong and he was at the root of it all.

‘I’m going up to shower,’ she uttered helplessly, and went to turn away.

He caught her arm and spun her back to face him.

‘No, you’re not, sweetheart. You haven’t time. Another faux pas. It’s nearly four-thirty and you only have time to get out of that scrap of cotton and into something decent before you are back on the job. Standards and all that,’ he mocked.

Wide-eyed, Kate glared at him. She couldn’t win with him whatever she did. Her eyes dropped contemptuously to his fingers gripping her wrist and then she gasped in horror.

‘I’m bleeding!’ There was blood on her arm where he was holding it.

He looked down and as he let her go he said impatiently, ‘You’re not but I am.’

He held his hand up and Kate was filled with remorse when she saw where the flow of blood was coming from. The tips of his fingers were cut where he had ripped open the spiny cactus leaves. Her sun-scorched thigh didn’t sting any more because of his quick, healing treatment. He hadn’t given a thought to himself, just torn those leaves apart to relieve her pain.

Without further thought she took his hand and thrust it under the still dribbling tap.

‘Who needs wet-nursing now?’ she breathed.

‘This is turning into a real kitchen-sink drama.’ he said as she held his fingers under the cooling water.

For the very first time in nine months Kate smiled at him. He was quite amusing when he dropped his arrogance.