A Seductive Revenge Read online

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a lift…?’ The sardonic quirk of one dark brow brought a rush of colour; it was clearly visible even through Tom Channing’s carefully nurtured designer stubble, which was meant to underline, along with the single gold ring in one ear and the scuffed shoes, his hard-man street credibility. It narked him no end that this big guy had buckets of the stuff and he didn’t even try. ‘That’s a no, I take it,’ he concluded bitterly.

  Flora had to bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning as she watched the burly figure flounce off to his car muttering—carefully not loud enough for her companion to hear—under his breath.

  ‘I think you hurt his feelings.’ It was hard not to gloat so she gave up trying; she was due a bit of gloating. ‘You’re not meant to drive with a flat tyre, are you?’ she added innocently as the red car bumpily drew away.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I thought not.’ Flora gave a contented sigh.

  ‘Daddy!’

  This time the urgent tugging at his trouser leg got Josh’s attention.

  ‘What is it, champ?’

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick!’

  Stunned at the speed with which this prediction came true, Flora stared in fascinated horror down at the unpleasant mess congealing over her pale biscuit trousers and favourite soft, handmade loafers.

  ‘I feel better now.’ Liam sighed and looked up happily at his father.

  Josh smiled back, silently congratulating his son on his unerring aim. He produced a tissue to wipe the toddler’s mouth and glanced surreptitiously towards the tall, willowy blonde, fully expecting her to be close to a state of complete collapse by now.

  In his experience women like her, the sort who never ventured out into public without the full works—make-up, smooth, impossibly shiny hair and the season’s latest in designer gear—had a problem with the less picturesque aspects of life. And a kid throwing up fell safely into that category! He had to concede that a kid throwing up so comprehensively over you would have been enough to throw even those women of his acquaintance not totally preoccupied with their own appearance.

  ‘I’m glad you feel better. I must say I feel rather yucky!’

  Josh gave a disgruntled frown. There was a rueful twinkle in Flora’s eyes as she smiled sweetly at his son. Damn woman, he didn’t much like having to throw his script out of the window.

  ‘You smell,’ Liam told her frankly.

  Flora’s nose wrinkled. ‘I’d noticed that too,’ she admitted drily.

  ‘You need a bath. Doesn’t she, Daddy?’

  Josh gave a noncommittal grunt. He suddenly had a very clear picture in his head of water sliding over satiny skin, gliding slowly down the slim, supple line of a naked female back. Her buttocks would be high and tight, you could tell by the way—his head snapped up so sharply a jarring pain shot all the way down his stiff spine. Hell! What a time for his libido to come out of hibernation.

  But it wasn’t the content of his lustful thoughts that made his guts tighten with a guilty repugnance, it was the person responsible for inciting those lustful thoughts. The whole situation suggested to him that someone up there had one twisted sense of humour!

  A warm bubble of humour escaped from Flora’s throat. ‘Or, failing that, a change of clothes,’ she agreed solemnly. She shifted her weight and her shoes squelched rather disgustingly. ‘Also I have a pack of Wet Wipes—a large pack.’

  Josh scooped his talkative son up into his arms. ‘I’m sorry about this, Miss…?’

  He fixed on his best guileless-stroke-helpless smile. It was the one that had females of all ages stampeding to help him with his son and he wasn’t above using it if the occasion warranted it. He’d gone past the period when he’d needed to prove he could cope alone; now he wasn’t so averse to making life easier.

  She sighed—blessed anonymity! ‘Flora,’ she supplied, meeting the tall stranger’s eyes and feeling inexplicably shy.

  ‘I’m Josh, Josh Prentice, and this is Liam who, as you have probably gathered, isn’t the world’s best traveller.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘You must bill me for the clothes.’

  Flora grimaced and wriggled her less-than-clean fingers a safe distance away. ‘For your safety I think we should pass on that one. As for the clothes, I’d say we’re even.’ She gave a sigh as she contemplated the sticky situation he’d rescued her from. ‘When I’m around creeps like that I really wish I were a man. Don’t get me wrong,’ she added swiftly, just in case he imagined she was a bit of a wimp, ‘I can handle men like that. You just have to be more subtle,’ she explained to her rather startled-looking audience.

  She’d learnt early on that men could be intimidated by the combination of cut-glass beauty and brains, and sometimes that combination allied with a cutting tongue was the only weapon she had or needed—usually.

  Friends who knew she was a bit of a softy thought it a hoot when they saw her turn on the ‘deep freeze’ but this ability had come in really handy recently when, traumatised deeply by the unkind public scrutiny, not to mention the fact the father she’d worshipped all her life had been exposed as a drug addict—life really was stranger than fiction—she’d retreated behind a mask of aloof disdain.

  Firmly repressing the troublesome urge to continue to stare up at him, she transferred her gaze to a far less complex pair of grey eyes fringed by lashes just as preposterously long as in the older version.

  ‘Ever tried ginger biscuits for travel sickness, Liam?’ The kiddy looked predictably interested at the mention of food. ‘They work for me. In fact, I’ve probably got some in my car. They might help settle his tummy…?’ she suggested tentatively to Josh.

  Some people donned dark glasses and wig to escape notice; it seemed Miss Graham donned a different personality—she was behaving like a girl guide! Still, he’d be around when she showed her true colours. At that moment she swept off her hat and he saw the disguise didn’t stop there!

  The long, waist-length shimmering mane of silvery blonde hair was gone, replaced by a short feathery cap that followed the elegant shape of her skull. The style might lack the impact of long, swishy blonde tresses, but the gamin cut did make her eyes look bigger, her patrician features more delicate, and emphasised the long, graceful curve of her neck. Let’s face it, with bones like hers the girl could shave off her hair and still look stunning!

  Flora lifted her hand to her head and felt an instant’s surprise when her fingers made contact with the short, wavy strands. Just contemplating how much Paul would dislike it made her feel cheerful about her rebellious gesture. Her ex-fiancé had once confided, in one of his rare moments of honesty—did all politicians lie?—that he thought women with short hair were unfeminine, and probably a bit confused about their sexuality.

  Now she could see what had been blindingly obvious all the time: he hadn’t been joking; this comment was typical of the man; Paul was a first-class narrow-minded bigot! And I was going to bear his children! She shook her head slightly as she considered her criminal lack of judgement when it came to men.

  ‘Have you got far to travel, Flora?’ Josh hoped not—another half-hour in the car with Liam and he might go completely gaga. It had afforded him dark amusement when the car following Flora had been so busy trying not to be noticed that the driver had failed to suspect that someone else had the same quarry in mind.

  It had made his own task easier, but not that easy. Liam’s low boredom threshold and dislike of car journeys were two things he foolishly hadn’t taken into account when he’d set out to follow Flora Graham out of town.

  Flora got a nice warm glow as she watched Josh jiggle the little boy from one narrow hip to the other, absently kissing the toddler’s nose as he did so. He seemed not to notice that the child’s grubby hands had comprehensively mussed up his glossy dark hair. After Paul, who had been almost pathological about neatness—and still was, no doubt—it was quite a contrast.

  She was off men permanently, because they we
re more trouble than they were worth, but she couldn’t help thinking… Her eyes moved covetously over his long, lean frame. This other woman’s husband was so spectacularly delicious, and great with the kiddy. Nice, incredible-looking and oozing daddy appeal—why don’t I ever meet men like that? she wondered indignantly.

  He wouldn’t have to be that good-looking. In fact, perhaps it might be better if he wasn’t, she concluded wryly, then hungry single women wouldn’t be lusting after him when my back was turned. Women like me! A guilty flush mounted her cheeks and she replied a little stiltedly.

  ‘A friend has a holiday cottage not far from here.’ She named the little village. ‘Do you know it?’ The stranger inclined his dark head in confirmation and she blithely chattered on. After being forced by circumstances to be discreet to the point of dumbness in front of strangers, it was something of a relief to talk normally—well, not totally normally, she felt impelled to admit.

  The man was just too damned gorgeous to be able to do anything in front of him totally unselfconsciously. She was ruefully aware that a very unsolicitor-like girly giggle—the one she had to repress if she didn’t want him to think she was a brainless bimbo—was only a heartbeat away.

  ‘That is not far; but far enough to make a change of clothes a must.’ Her nose twitched in an attempt to avoid the sour smell emanating from her person. ‘I need to change. I don’t suppose you could…?’ She stopped mid-request with a self-conscious grimace. ‘No, of course you couldn’t…’

  ‘It has been known for me to answer for myself.’

  She grinned. ‘I bet it has,’ she responded, examining his determined angular jawline; doting dad or not, he looked like the opinionated type to her. ‘Actually I was hoping you could act as lookout for me whilst I change. It could be a bit embarrassing if I’m stripped off down to my undies when some family pulls up complete with picnic basket…’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d have been more concerned about lone males, but I was forgetting you can handle men…subtly…’

  Was there a strand of mockery in his deep voice? Flora felt vaguely uneasy as she watched him put down the child and brush his hands against his strong, muscular thighs. There was nothing remotely sexual about the gesture—the sex, she told herself sternly, was all in her own mind—but that didn’t stop her body temperature hiking up several notches. This entire weird overreaction was probably all part of the winding-down process. After the last few months that wasn’t going to be an overnight thing.

  ‘Realistically I don’t suppose there’s much chance of anyone coming along here.’ A cooling-off period was urgently required, so she allowed her eyes to drift around the rather bleak landscape before coming to rest once more on his face.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘It’s probably lucky for me you did.’ She didn’t think she’d been in any actual physical danger from the journalist, just the sort of unpleasant scene which she would much rather avoid.

  Lamb to the slaughter, Josh marvelled as she looked up at him oozing trust and lack of suspicion. He ought to be feeling pretty pleased with how things were going, but somehow her trusting disposition was irritating the hell out of him.

  ‘I wouldn’t want you to risk indecent exposure charges.’

  Flora’s eyes widened, a hard laugh was wrenched from her throat. ‘Wouldn’t they have loved that!’

  ‘Pardon…?’

  Flora gathered her wits. Small wonder he was looking at her blankly. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘And none of my business.’

  Flora flushed, aware that at the first hint of the conversation growing remotely personal she had automatically reverted to cool disdain. ‘Actually it’s not something I want to talk about.’

  ‘And I’m a stranger.’

  ‘But a very kind one,’ she told him warmly. She couldn’t understand why his handsome face hardened.

  ‘And if I wasn’t—if I was a dangerous, marauding lone male with evil intentions—you could deal with me…right?’

  Flora laughed a little uneasily and tried not to notice the way her stomach lurched when she visualised how it might feel if that horrifying scenario were true.

  ‘But you’re not alone, you’re with Liam…you’re a father.’

  ‘And being a father places me above suspicion…and temptation?’ He silently reviewed the lists of world-class baddies who’d been doting dads, but resisted the impulse to point out the obvious flaws in her argument. ‘I must admit I’ve never quite looked at it in that way before. I’m overcome by the confidence you place in me.’

  Flora didn’t think he sounded overcome, just irked. Perhaps even happily married men preferred to think they could still be considered dangerous.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with being domesticated,’ she told him kindly. Actually she didn’t think half a dozen kids could make this particular specimen appear domesticated. She was a sensible, mature woman—mostly—with her feet firmly on the ground, and even her stomach showed a dangerous tendency to go all squidgy when she looked into those hooded silvery eyes.

  ‘And it’s nothing to do with paternity as such.’ She frowned earnestly. ‘Don’t you ever just get a gut feeling with some people that you can trust them?’ She closed her mouth with an audible snap…where the hell did that come from?

  Squirming with humiliation, she gazed at the dark colour that stained the sharp, high angle of his achingly perfect cheekbones. Now I’ve embarrassed him—small wonder! You don’t go around telling total strangers you have gut feelings about them—gut feelings suggest a degree of intimacy! He probably thinks I’m making a pass at him or something. It was true about the gut feeling, though…

  Josh broke the awkward silence. ‘Liam’s been cramped in the car all morning; he needs a chance to stretch his legs.’ To her relief he was acting as if she’d said nothing out of the ordinary. ‘If you want to change I’ll keep an eye out for coach parties.’

  ‘Well, if you’re…thanks…’

  Josh kept one eye on his son who was building a tower with the stray rocks he’d gathered and the other on the wing mirror of his four-wheel drive, which kept him up to date with the state of play of Flora’s contortions in the back seat of her small car.

  Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about the general scumminess of such behaviour. He couldn’t afford the luxury of scruples if he was going to make Graham pay. He was going to hit him where it hurt and Graham’s Achilles’ heel was his daughter—he adored her. The moment Josh had seen the interview of the two of them together he’d known that this was the way to make him pay. As for the girl, she hadn’t even been willing to admit her father had done anything wrong. As always when he needed reminding of why he was doing this, he brought the picture of Bridie’s sweet, laughing face to mind—or he would have if what was going on in the car hadn’t distracted him.

  Any travellers seeking a respite from their journey at that moment wouldn’t have been treated to the sight of Flora’s underwear. She wasn’t wearing any—at least not from the waist up, which was the bit he could see. Her breasts were fairly small, pointed and high. They bounced energetically as she stretched upwards, pulling a thin cashmere polo shirt over her head. With a muffled curse of self-disgust Josh tore his eyes away.

  Who was he kidding? This had nothing to do with revenge; it was pure voyeurism. That was bad, but not so bad if all he’d wanted to do was look!

  He heard the sound of her feet on the rough ground but didn’t turn around. He watched as Liam carefully selected a stick and knocked down the tower of rocks he’d so lovingly constructed.

  ‘I worry about his aggressive instincts sometimes.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, it’s perfectly normal,’ Flora comforted. She smiled as the youngster laughed out loud before he started to rebuild his destroyed creation. ‘I’m sure you did the same.’

  ‘No, my brother Jake built them and I knocked them down, then he knocked me down. These days people pay him a lot of money to build things and nobody kno
cks them down.’

  ‘He’s a builder?’

  ‘No, an architect.’

  ‘And what do you do?’ She bit her lip. ‘You don’t have to answer that—once I get into interrogation mode there’s no stopping me,’ she babbled in embarrassment.

  ‘So what does that make you?’ He responded to Liam’s pouting plea by producing a sweet from his pocket. ‘Only one,’ he warned before handing it over. ‘A police woman…?’ he suggested, straightening up from his crouched pose and brushing his hands against the seat of his well-worn denims.

  ‘No, a solicitor.’

  ‘Pity…’

  She looked enquiringly at him.

  ‘I’ve always had a soft spot for a girl in uniform.’

  His smile and the way her heart started to beat wildly filled her with panic. ‘Is Liam an only child?’ A swift diplomatic change of subject was urgently required.

  Josh didn’t reply straight away; when he did his grey eyes held a shadowy expression that disturbed her. Was she imagining the tenseness in his greyhound-lean body?

  ‘Yes, he is.’

  He was young, maybe thirty; he and his wife could produce a lot more children all as enchanting as Liam. Flora, who had never been aware of any strong maternal instincts, felt a surge of envy and a deepening sense of dissatisfaction with where her life was going.

  ‘So am I.’

  A nerve throbbed in Josh’s lean cheek. ‘That must make you all the more precious to your parents.’ His eyes were curiously intent on her face.

  ‘Father; my mum died five years ago.’

  He touched her hand—hardly even a touch, more a brushing of her skin; the gesture seemed unpremeditated. Flora didn’t move. She continued to stare at the busy, happy child, aware all the time of an invisible web of nerve-endings she hadn’t even known existed surge to zinging life all over her body. Her skin felt so alive it hurt—pleasure bordering on pain. She found herself completely unprepared for this raw, sensual awakening.