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She knew her cheeks were burning and wished with all her heart that she was one of the sophisticated, blasé, worldly-wise women he was used to, women who would have a light amusing comment on their tongue to defuse such a situation without any awkwardness—but she wasn’t. And then, as Lucas reached behind him and placed his empty glass on a shelf running along the length of the wall, he moved her into the circle of his arms, his hands resting possessively on her waist.
‘Incredible woman,’ he whispered softly against her forehead, his warm lips caressing her as he spoke. ‘Defiant and angry one minute, shy and bewildered the next. I don’t know one other woman who blushes like you do. Sensual and all woman in my arms and then as cold as a beautiful ice sculpture. You fascinate me, Kim. Do you know that?’
‘I don’t want to fascinate you,’ she said desperately, whilst knowing—with a feeling of overwhelming panic—that that wasn’t quite the truth. Which made her crazy, insane, because getting involved with Lucas would mean emotional suicide for sure.
‘Perhaps that’s part of what drew me at first,’ Lucas murmured thoughtfully, almost to himself, as he leant back slightly in order to hold her drowning eyes. ‘The world is full of gold-diggers, Kim, or men and women who chose their partners for the kudos reflected on them. Esteem, renown, furthering one’s reputation or career—it’s the name of the game.’
‘Not my game.’ She tried to extricate herself from his arms but he didn’t seem to notice, and then, as she broke eye contact, she looked at his mouth and her heart seemed to stand still. It was a hard, faintly stern mouth—even when he was being gentle, the way he was now—and devastatingly sexy.
‘No, I know that.’ His brow creased in a quizzical ruffle. ‘Sometimes you seem as young as Melody, and yet the very fact of her existence proves you are not what you seem. You’ve been married, borne a child. You’re a mother, a single parent who provides for her family.’ There was a faintly whimsical note to his voice, as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying, and although she felt she should feel insulted Kim couldn’t summon up the necessary anger.
‘Lots of people are different underneath,’ she managed evasively, vitally aware of his hands idly caressing her slender waist and the massiveness of his shoulders and broad chest. They were creating a whole host of feelings she could well have done without.
‘Maybe, but usually for the worst,’ Lucas responded drily.
‘That might be the case with me.’ She had spoken lightly but the root was in her fragile self-esteem, and instead of the witty or cynical answer she was expecting Lucas said nothing for a few moments, his eyes narrowing on her lovely face.
‘If he wasn’t dead, I’d want to kill him.’
It was like a punch in the chest and tension shot through every part of her body at the look in his eyes. She froze, becoming stiff and unyielding in his arms, and Lucas swore silently to himself for going too fast.
But then she slowly relaxed again, brushing a wisp of hair from her thick fringe out of her eyes as she said, very quietly, so quietly he had to lower his head slightly to hear her, ‘He used to say that to me, that he wanted to kill me, towards the end. He knew I wanted to leave him and he used to threaten—’
‘What?’ Lucas was amazed she was talking like this and scared to say anything in case it drove her back in her shell.
‘He used to say he would kill Melody first, then me. That he would find me wherever I went, hunt us down. He…he was unbalanced when he was drinking, violent, capable of anything. And then other times, when he was sober, he would take Melody to the park and act like a normal father. But I could never relax. One time he went out sober and came back and I could smell the drink on his breath. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d been drinking when he was supposed to be looking after her.’
She raised agonised eyes to his horrified face as he expelled a long hard breath.
‘I wouldn’t let him go out alone with her after that; I wouldn’t let her out of my sight for a minute. He was becoming too unpred
ictable,’ Kim said flatly.
‘Did he go anywhere for help, professional help?’ Lucas asked softly.
Kim shook her head, her eyes cloudy and dark. ‘Graham wouldn’t acknowledge he’d got a problem,’ she said bitterly. ‘It was me who was at fault, according to him. I was boring, a kill-joy; he used to—’ She stopped abruptly, suddenly aware she was saying too much. There were some things, secret things, she had sworn she would never tell a living soul.
‘He used to?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She was retreating from him but there was nothing he could do about it in the middle of a theatre bar, Lucas told himself silently.
‘Could I have another glass of wine?’ Kim finished the last of the clear white liquid in one gulp and held the glass out to him with a brittle smile. She didn’t really want another drink but she had to do something to break the curiously intimate bubble his arms had woven round her, a bubble that had made her reveal far more than she had intended.
In the last few minutes before the bell rang for the second half Lucas kept the conversation light and amusing, and Kim tried to respond in kind, but inwardly she was as tight as a coiled spring.
Now that the spell his nearness had evoked was broken she couldn’t believe how she had spoken to him—him, Lucas, the one person in all the world she needed to keep at a distance. She didn’t want him to know anything about her life—past or present—she told herself feverishly. He had power enough over her as it was.
In spite of all her misgivings and self-recrimination, Kim found herself enjoying the second half. And then the lights rose and they were making their way out to the car, the damp chilly air after the hot-house warmth of the theatre making Kim shiver on the steps of the building.
‘Cold?’ Lucas didn’t wait for an answer, drawing her into his side with a practised ease that seemed perfectly natural and which made Kim feel she would be overly crass if she objected to the arm round her shoulders. But it was too cosy, too ‘coupleish’ to be anything but acutely disturbing.
The meal, at a wonderful little Italian restaurant a short drive from the theatre, was delicious, and contrary to all her expectations Kim found herself relaxing enough to enjoy the excellent food.
Lucas seemed to have metamorphosed into yet another of his many selves and this one, a convivial and charming dinner companion, was sufficiently non-threatening to be, if not quite comfortable, then certainly agreeable.
He didn’t mention her disclosure from their talk at the theatre during the meal, nor yet on the drive home, and Kim felt too emotionally drained to bring up the original purpose of their dinner date. Anxious as she was to set their relationship on the right footing again, any further discussion about it was beyond her for the moment.
She stared out into the dark night as the Aston Martin purred through misty, deserted streets.
