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Living With The Enemy
Laura Martin
Fiancé or foe?When Lucy Harper reluctantly agreed to use writer Alex Darcy's villa in Majorca to get over her late husband, she had one condition–that the host would keep well out of her way. But Alex had other ideas. Assuming the role of a guardian angel, he helped Lucy out of her despair–and into his bed….And, it seemed, into his trap. For Alex hid a secret–a secret that, when she finally did learn the shocking truth, made Lucy wonder if she had been living with the enemy all along!
Alex was breaking her heart (#u5c2b2b52-d44e-56bf-83cb-7ab9e08c0e12)About the Author (#u7d8b9c07-77c4-5433-8f31-1d47bacf9ef1)Title Page (#u17dca716-d460-5fff-9513-6e289adaf9a4)CHAPTER ONE (#u00b6e7ab-8074-57f2-bb67-27f2dc17d2aa)CHAPTER TWO (#u489f07de-5a3a-530a-bf03-df9988fa0b5f)CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)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)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Alex was breaking her heart
“I just want to go home,” Lucy said quietly. “Away from this place. Back to England—”
“Away from me?”
She forced herself to look into his eyes. She couldn’t go on like this. There was no future in this crazy relationship; deep down she knew that. Men like Alex Darcy didn’t make commitments to girls like her.
“Yes,” she replied firmly. “Away from you.” She squared her shoulders and held herself upright. “Now, if you’d let go of my arm...”
Laura Martin lives in a small Gloucestershire village in England with her husband, two young children and a lively sheepdog! Laura has a great love of interior design and, together with her husband, has recently completed the renovation of their Victorian cottage. Her hobbies include gardening, the theater, music and reading, and she finds great pleasure and inspiration from walking daily in the beautiful countryside around her home
Living with the Enemy
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
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 else did he say?’ Lucy’s voice was sharp. She couldn’t help it. Anxiety was always there, lying just beneath the surface, waiting to engulf her.
‘Nothing much.’ His voice was infuriatingly smooth. He looked at her without difficulty or embarrassment. ‘I know that your husband died a couple of months ago and you need a change of scene.’ He glanced around the car park and his mouth twisted into a smile. ‘And here you are.’
Lucy’s eyes rested on the shimmering concrete and the cars and the masses of people surrounding them. ‘Yes,’ she replied flatly. ‘Here I am.’
She saw his look, a slight narrowing of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, not until they were in their seats and Lucy was fastening her seat belt.
‘I live in the north. In the hills. You won’t find fish and chip bars and high-rise hotels there,’ he told her. ‘It won’t be like this.’
Wide emerald eyes met his gaze. Lucy didn’t bother to hide her disbelief. ‘Won’t it?’
‘No.’ He thrust the car into gear and manoeuvred it out of the space. ‘Be patient. You’ll see.’
They travelled in silence for a long while. After an hour, the scenery changed to lush green trees and dusty tracks, to whitewashed houses nestling in valleys and clinging precariously to hillsides, and her heavy heart began to lift a little.
‘Oh, it’s so...so different!’ she exclaimed, looking about her.
‘There’s still quite a way to go,’ Alex informed her, refraining from the obvious comment of ‘I told you so’. ‘Do you want to stop for a while and stretch your legs? I have some cool drinks in the back.’
Lucy nodded. She had been feeling dreadfully thirsty for the last few miles and her legs felt old and unused. ‘Yes,’ she replied, grateful for the thoughtfulness of her companion. ‘That would be nice.’
He clearly knew the area well. Alex drove the car to a quiet spot shaded from the afternoon sun by the branches of cooling trees. It was a wonderful relief to be able to get out and stretch and walk and just enjoy the fresh, clear air.
He handed her a drink from a cool-box in the boot and Lucy raised the cold bottle of cola to her mouth and drank thirstily.
‘Tastes good?’
She lowered the bottle from her lips. ‘Like nectar,’ she replied shyly.
‘You’ll find that Majorca sharpens all your senses: sight, smell, taste... Take a deep breath,’ he instructed. ‘Wonderful, isn’t it? So clear and fresh; sweet and sharp all at the same time.’
‘And warm.’ Lucy, conscious of Alex Darcy’s gaze, turned to look at the view. The valley stretched endlessly ahead of them, with green terraces that glinted in the sun. In the distance the sea shimmered invitingly.
When Charles had first mentioned that she should go to Majorca to rest and recuperate Lucy had been aghast. He had talked her into it, as he always did, though, and now she could understand why. It was a magnificent part of the world.
Just a shame that this man ... this stranger was part of the package. She would have much preferred to stay here alone. But Charles had been adamant about that...
‘I need to know there’s someone around—someone I can trust to look after you,’ he had insisted firmly. ‘Alex has certain...’ he had hesitated a moment and then said ‘... qualities. Qualities that I feel I can rely on. I know you’re well on the road to recovery, but—’
‘You think it’s fine for me to spend time in a house miles from anywhere, alone with a man I’ve never met before?’ Lucy had asked from her wicker chair in the hospital garden. She’d shaken her head in disbelief. ‘I’m really surprised that you should even make this suggestion!’
‘Look, Alex is a good man. Anyway, he’s a workaholic!’ Charles told her reassuringly. ‘His writing is his life now. Honestly, he’ll be sat in his study for hours on end, so you’ll get all the peace and quiet you want. He’ll be around—that’s the main thing. I don’t want you to feel abandoned. Alex has promised me he’s perfectly happy for you to stay for a few days, just until I get this last-minute hitch sorted out. He’ll understand.’ He paused a moment. ‘He might even be able to help you.’
‘I doubt that!’ Lucy threw the rug from her knees and stood up. ‘And anyway, why should he want to? Not that I need help,’ she amended swiftly. ‘I feel fine. I don’t want to stay with some man I’ve never met before. He could be ... well, you know.’
Charles frowned and looked perplexed. ‘Could be what? What do you mean?’
Lucy exhaled. ‘Oh, Charles, you’re so worldly in some ways and so totally naïve in others! I’ll be alone, out in the middle of nowhere, with a man I’ve never met before—’
‘Good gracious, Lucy! You really are clutching at straws!’ Charles laughed. ‘Is that the best reason you can give for not going?’
I’m nervous, Lucy wanted to say. I’m feeling fragile and I won’t know him.
‘Look, believe me,’ Charles continued, ‘you have nothing to worry about. Alex is a normal, red-blooded male who on occasion enjoys the company of women, but he’s intelligent and humorous and totally absorbed in his work. Anyway,’ he added tactlessly, ‘they’re never your type.’
‘Who aren’t?’ She gazed down at her step-brother, puzzlement clouding her features. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Alex’s women,’ Charles replied. ‘I’m just trying to put your mind at rest; he doesn’t go for your...’ He saw Lucy’s expression and his voice trailed away.
‘And what exactly is my type?’ she enquired, eyebrows raised.
‘Oh, you know...’ Charles waved a negligent hand.
‘No, actually I don’t!’ she replied sharply. ‘I’ve never met the man before, or had you forgotten?’
‘Alex goes for glamour with a capital G. His women are usually six feet tall with hair the colour of corn,’ he added wistfully.
‘And as I’m a short five feet five inches, with a sprinkling of freckles and long, wavy red hair I’m safe—is that what you’re saying?’ Lucy shook her head. ‘You know, for a diplomat you have a pitiful amount of tact!’
Charles looked uncomfortable. ‘Now don’t get worked up about it,’ he added hastily. ‘You’re supposed to be keeping calm.’
‘I am calm, you idiot!’ she replied flatly. The edges of her mouth curved a little. ‘I’m just disappointed that you won’t be around. I see little enough of you as it is.’
Poor Charles, Lucy thought now, and wiped her moist forehead with the back of her hand. She loved him dearly, though. He was the best stepbrother in the world. The only relation close enough to matter. But she did, on occasions, give him a hard time. She heaved a steadying sigh. She wished he were here...
Her head was beginning to hurt. What was the last thing the doctor had said to her on her discharge from the hospital? What had Charles said to her at Gatwick when he had kissed her goodbye? ‘Relax. Take it easy.’
‘Are you feeling OK?’
Lucy looked up to find Alex close beside her. She took a step away, saw him frown and replied hastily, ‘Yes...yes, I’m fine!’
‘You don’t look it.’
‘I’m fine!’ There it was again—that sharp, high-pitched tone that revealed her uncertainties and worries so effectively.
‘You know, Charles really only has your best interests at heart. It will do you good to stay here a while.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Lucy raised her brows enquiringly. ‘And you would know, would you?’ She saw the firming of his mouth, wondered despondently what on earth was making her so disagreeable.
‘I think so, yes.’ His voice was crisp and well defined.
Lucy focused on the view. ‘I didn’t ask to come here. If I had had my way I would have gone straight home from the...the...’
‘Hospital? You can say the word, you know,’ Alex drawled. ‘It won’t bite.’
‘I’d...I’d prefer to put all that behind me,’ she replied stiffly, glancing across at him. ‘If you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’ The rich dark eyes held her gaze. ‘You know, Lucy, there’s no need to feel awkward about anything, or uptight. You’re supposed to look upon your stay here as a holiday,’ he continued with infuriating ease, ‘not as some sort of incarceration.’
‘I didn’t want to come!’ she said stonily. She glanced down and saw that her linen trousers looked grubby and crumpled. She smoothed the fabric against her legs with shaking fingers, conscious that the humiliation of tears wasn’t far away.
‘You preferred the idea of returning to your cramped little bedsit in the heart of London?’ Dark brows were raised with an infuriating lack of sympathy. ‘A rather depressing area by all accounts. You know that Charles wishes you’d find somewhere better? He thinks—’
‘I know what he thinks!’ she cut in. ‘He’s told me enough times.’ She turned away angrily and stared out across the lush green valley. She felt hot and irritable and unreasonably defensive. Charles, it seemed, had told Alex more than she had imagined. ‘Anyway, my “cramped little bedsit” suits me fine!’ she added tightly. ‘Besides, it’s all that we could—that I can afford!’ she corrected herself swiftly. ‘I’m not into charity,’ she continued, hardening her voice and her heart, pushing away the dull thud of misery which threatened to take a hold all over again whenever she thought of the mess that had been her marriage. ‘I want to be independent. I was going to be independent, until Charles foisted me off onto you! He’s just salving his conscience! ’ she continued. ‘Charles is too busy to spare me any of his precious time and so he’s come up with this ridiculous idea!’
There was an uneasy silence. Lucy raised a hand to her head and smoothed slender fingers across her aching brow. She knew that she would regret this later, this petulant outburst. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting so dreadfully?
‘Tell me something.’
She glanced across, pushing a heavy strand of bronze-coloured hair out of her eyes, watching the handsome contours of Alex Darcy’s face warily. ‘What?’
‘Are you always this ungrateful?’ His voice was clipped and cool. There was almost a hint of dislike in his tone. Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Charles is doing the best he can,’ he continued evenly. ‘You know better than I how important his job is. He has commitments that cannot be broken. He’s been working hard on the details of this summit for several months, hasn’t he?’
‘For about a year,’ she replied flatly, knowing deep down that her stepbrother was doing his best, knowing that she was being difficult merely to cover her unease at being in this new situation with a man who was everything she hadn’t expected.
‘Well, then, surely you can understand his predicament?’ Alex continued. ‘He told me you were incredibly proud of his achievements. Not many men or women reach such a position so early in their career. Don’t you think it’s time you considered the difficulties Charles has to deal with, instead of thinking only of yourself?’
It was a shock to be put in her place. So many people had been treating her with kid gloves for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of someone’s displeasure... almost.
‘Thinking of myself—?’ Lucy began. She caught sight of the watchful expression and released a weary sigh. ‘OK, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to take any of this out on you.’ It took a huge effort to keep her voice steady and calm. ‘I just feel that Charles has treated me like a child. There was practically no discussion about my coming here,’ she continued. ‘One minute I’m in the hospital; the next I’m being informed that I’m to travel to Majorca to recuperate with an old friend who just happens to be a man, who just happens to be someone I’ve never met before.’ She narrowed her emerald eyes. ‘How would you feel?’
‘A little disorientated, maybe, but essentially glad.’
‘Glad?’ She shook her head in disbelief.
‘You liked hospital?’ Alex enquired bluntly.
