Betrayed. Part 17

'The man you ran away from in the first place?' suggested Perry shrewdly, and she cast him a startled look over her shoulder before deciding there was no point in prevaricating, and nodded her head. 'I see.'

There was silence for a while, as Perry retrieved his drink and savoured the sharp flavour of the gin, and Olivia did her best to recover her composure. It had been quite a shock to realise she was so transparent, though she was grateful not to have to labour her point. Still, Perry's att.i.tude had made her feel better, and when she turned and found him looking at her she only hesitated a moment before going to him.

'You know,' she said, reaching up to bestow a warm kiss on his cheek, 'you really are one of the nicest men I've ever---'

And it was as her lips touched Perry's dry skin that she saw Matthew. He was standing, motionless, in the doorway that led from the foyer of the apartment, and she realised, belatedly, that she hadn't locked the door. But even so, the doorman downstairs would not have let anyone come up unannounced unless she had warned him she was expecting them. So, although instinct caused her to draw back from Perry, her common sense told her she had to be hallucinating. Matthew couldn't be here; not in New York; not in her apartment. What she was seeing was a figment of her imagination, and it was her imagination that was painting that savage expression on his face. His image was the one she most wanted to see, and his anger was her way of justifying his presence.

Even so, his image was so real, she couldn't help but respond to it. She actually felt the guilt she would have felt had Matthew found her in this situation. Putting up a hand to her head, she felt the perspiration beading on her forehead, and she swayed a little unsteadily as the colour drained from her face.

Perry, ever vigilant of her feelings, gazed at her with some concern. 'My dear,' he exclaimed. 'What's wrong. You look as if you've just seen a ghost!'

'Not a ghost, I'm afraid,' remarked Matthew flatly, stepping reluctantly into the room. 'Just the skeleton at the feast.'

And Olivia fainted.

It was daylight when she opened her eyes; still daylight, she amended, as with an aching head she pushed herself up against the pillows. But not just any pillows, she realised, recognising the bedspread, but her pillows, the pillows on her bed, where someone must have deposited her, after she lost consciousness.

But who?

The sickening recollection of what had happened swept over her. But even now she wasn't precisely sure what was real and what wasn't. She had seen Matthew. She remembered that. But whether he had actually been here or she had simply conjured him up was part of the nightmare. She remembered Perry asking her if she was all right. She remembered feeling ill. But whether Matthew had actually said what she thought he said, before the floor came up and hit her, was something she had yet to deal with.

A shadow moved against the half-drawn blinds at the window, and she jerked her head round to see what it was. The action caused her head to throb, but she ignored the discomfort.

A man was standing with his back to the light, and it took all her concentration to guess his ident.i.ty.

'P-Perry?' she whispered faintly, even though the size and bulk of the man belied her tremulous a.s.sumption. But, even now, she found it difficult to believe that Matthew might be here, particularly as she remembered how angry he had looked.

'He's gone,' the man said, moving towards the bed, and she caught her breath at the realisation that it really was Matthew.

He had shed the jacket he had been wearing when she'd first seen him in the foyer of the apartment, and his hands were tucked into the pockets of his grey trousers. A cream silk shirt completed his outfit, at present unfastened at the neck, the cuffs turned back over his forearms. He looked cool, and casual, but also excessively weary, the lines around his eyes an indication of his exhaustion.

'Gone?' Olivia said now, as he halted beside the bed, his knees brushing the silk coverlet. It was the only thing she could think of to say, and Matthew inclined his head, before turning to sit down beside her.

'Gone,' he agreed, without taking his hands out of his pockets, giving her an intense appraisal. 'So? How are you feeling? It's the first time I've had that effect on a woman.'

She realised he was trying to lighten the situation, but she couldn't respond. 'Where"where has Perry gone?' she persisted, remembering the savage look on Matthew's face when he had seen them together. What had happened after she 'dropped out'

of the situation? What had they said to one another. Oh, G.o.d, she hoped there had been no violence. There was no evidence in Matthew's features, but he was a much stronger man.

'Home, I guess,' Matthew was saying now, taking one hand out of his pocket, and smoothing his palm against the coverlet.

'Or out to dinner. That was where he was planning to take you, wasn't it? I'm sorry if you wanted to join him. But he understood that we have to talk.'

'Did he?' Olivia looked at him with wide anxious eyes. 'Did he understand? Wh-what did you say to him, Matthew? How"how did you persuade him to go?'

'Well, I didn't chuck him out of the window, if that's what you're afraid of,' responded Matthew drily. 'Although, I must admit, when I got here I wanted to. But"old Perry and I"we had an"illuminating conversation. I guess you could say we understand one another now. Which is more than you and I ever did.'

Olivia blinked, and pushed herself further up the bed. She was still wearing the georgette culotte suit, and the wide legs of the trousers caught against the silk, and exposed a tempting length of thigh as she wriggled back. But she managed to push them down again, avoiding Matthew's eyes as she did so. In spite of what he had said, she still had a feeling of unreality in all this, and she wondered if she was still unconscious, and dreaming the whole thing.

'Are you all right?' Matthew asked now, and she was aware of his brown hand on the coverlet, only inches from her ankle.

Had those hands picked her up and carried her into the bedroom?

she wondered. Somehow she couldn't see Perry lifting her up off the floor.

'I'm fine,' she answered at last, pushing back her hair with a nervous hand. 'Honestly I am. I don't know why I fainted like that. It's never happened before.'

'I guess it was something of a shock to see me,' Matthew offered, his lips twisting sardonically. 'Particularly as I interrupted you. What exactly were you doing?' he asked mildly.

Olivia gasped. 'I beg your pardon?' she exclaimed, as a belated awareness of the significance of Matthew's being here a.s.saulted her. Until now, she had been having a hard time believing that he had been civil to Perry. But suddenly, the consequence of his having crossed the Atlantic to see her reminded her of the reasons why he shouldn't be here, and she clasped her hands uneasily.

'I said---' he began again, but Olivia moved her head back and forth in an agitated gesture.

'I"I know what you said,' she got out unsteadily. 'But"you have no right to ask me. And"and no right to send Perry away either. This"this isn't Lower Mychett, Matt. This is New York.'

'I know where it is,' Matthew told her, in a rough voice, and then, before she could do anything to save herself, he reached out and grasped her ankle, jerking her down the bed until her head was flat against the coverlet. 'But don't tell me what I can or can't do where you're concerned,' he added, leaning across her to put one hand on either side of her head. 'Right now, I'm in no mood to make the distinction.'

'Matt---' she protested weakly, making a desperate effort to straighten the legs of her culottes once again, but he wasn't listening to her. He was looking into her eyes, and she felt herself drowning in their liquid, sensual depths. And, when he lowered his head to hers, the realisation that she had no real moral need to stop him overrode her will to resist him.

His mouth was hot and hungry, seizing her lips in a burning kiss that defied any lingering inhibitions. And, although he was still supporting himself with his hands, his chest was brushing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, inspiring the need to have him even closer. She moaned, deep in her throat, and then she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, his weight the final rea.s.surance that this was no dream.

His mouth hardened then, the kiss deepening and lengthening, and his tongue slipped between her teeth. It invaded her mouth possessively, wet and demanding, and when it slid along the length of hers her senses swam. She sank into a dark sea of sensation, without any desire to save herself.

'You want me,' he said huskily, his low, impa.s.sioned voice sc.r.a.ping every sensitised nerve in her body, and she lifted one leg to wind it about him.

'Mmm,' she breathed, gripping the hair at his nape to bring his mouth back to hers, and Matthew was not proof against that helpless admission.

His hands slid down her back, urging her body up to his, so that she was made insistently aware of his arousal, and fire sped along her veins, igniting everywhere it touched. Whenever Matthew touched her, it was always like this, she thought achingly, her hands invading the neck of his shirt to stroke the moist skin of his shoulders. His body was so familiar to her, and she split the b.u.t.tons of his shirt to press her lips to his chest.

'G.o.d, Liv,' he groaned, brushing the pleated lapels of her jacket aside to expose the creamy flesh of her throat. 'When I came in here tonight and saw you kissing" kissing"well, I wanted to kill him! I wanted to kill both of you!' He buried his face in the dusky hollow between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and she felt his tongue against her skin. 'I guess it was just as well you fainted. It brought me to my senses.'

'Oh, Matt!' Olivia didn't feel much like talking at that moment, but she had to explain. 'Perry and I weren't" kissing.

Well, not in the way you mean, anyway,' she added, sliding her palms against his cheeks. I"I'd just told him I loved someone else----'

'You had?' Now, when Olivia tried to draw him down to her again, Matthew resisted. His eyes darkened. 'Tell me about it.'

Olivia sighed. 'Not now, Matt----'

'Yes, now.' Matthew used his hands again to put some s.p.a.ce between them. 'Tell me who this"someone is.'

Olivia groaned. 'You know!'

'Do I?' For a man who had just been given the answer he had previously professed to want, Matthew was acting very strangely, and Olivia stared at him.

'Of course you do,' she exclaimed. 'It's you!'

'Is it?'

He pushed himself up into a sitting position now, and Olivia gazed at him in dismayed confusion. 'What's the matter?' she cried. 'What's wrong? I"I thought that was what you wanted to hear.'

Matthew's mouth compressed. 'Then why did you leave England a second time?' he demanded harshly. 'Come on, Liv. I want to hear.'

Olivia swallowed now and sat up, resting her elbows on her knees and propping her head in her hands. 'You know why,' she said heavily. 'You're married.'

'And that's the only reason?' he questioned grimly, and she nodded.

'What else could there be?' she asked him wearily. 'You know I love you. There's never been any doubt of that.'

'Hasn't there?' Matthew gripped her shoulders now, shaking her, so that her head tipped back on the slender column of her neck, and she looked at him uncomprehendingly.

'No.'

'Then why did you leave me ten years ago?' he grated. 'I wasn't married then.'

'Oh---' Olivia's head sagged forward again, and she felt the sharp brush of tears behind her eyes, as he let her go. For a few moments there, she had allowed herself to forget the past, but she should have known better. The past was all bound up with the present, and she couldn't ignore either. But, for a brief spell, she had escaped, and now she had to face the consequences. 'I had my reasons.'

'What reasons?'

Matthew was persistent, and she couldn't honestly blame him.

But it was not her story to tell. It never had been. And what was the point of raking it all up now, when Helen still stood between them? - 'It's a long story,' she said, as she had said to Perry earlier. 'It doesn't concern us. And I'd rather not go into it.'

'And if I want to?' he insisted, and her eyes encountered his in wary protest.

'Why should you?' she cried. 'It doesn't alter the situation.

You are still married---' A desperate thought occurred to her.

'Aren't you?' But her hopes were dashed by his barely perceptible nod. 'We can't change what happened now. It's"too late.'

'Maybe not.' Matthew's words were low, but she heard them, and her head jerked up again.

'What do you mean?'

I mean it might not be too late for us,' said Matthew quietly, and she stared at him in disbelief.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

'But"Helen! The stables----'

'The stables have gone,' said Matthew, without emphasis.

'They burned down over two weeks ago. It was quite an inferno.

Several horses were killed.'

Olivia was staggered. 'I can't believe it.'

'Nevertheless, it's true.'

Olivia shook her head. 'But how"I mean"did you---?'

'I had nothing to do with it,' exclaimed Matthew indignantly.

'Christ, what an opinion you have of me!'

'I didn't mean that.' Olivia didn't really know what she meant.

Her mind was too busy, buzzing with all the possibilities this might create, but for the moment, she had to be pragmatic.

'Helen didn't----?'

'Helen's fine,' said Matthew flatly, and Olivia felt a reluctant sense of relief. Although the other woman's death would have given Matthew his freedom, that was not the way she would have wished it to be.

'So"how---?'

Matthew shrugged. 'It was arson,' he said flatly.

'Arson? But who---?'

'The police think it was Helen,' he replied without expression, and Olivia caught her breath.

'Surely they must be wrong?'

'I don't think so.' Matthew paused, and then went on, 'It wasn't a very professional job, you see. As far as anyone can gather, it was started in the disused barn, adjoining the stables, and it's pretty obvious it wasn't intended to destroy the animals.

Helen would never have done anything that might hurt her horses. But it all got out of hand.'

Olivia shook her head. 'But why would she do it?' 'Why do you think? For the insurance money, of course. Although anyone else would have realised that the insurance company were going to find two hefty claims from the same individual pretty hard to stomach.' He sighed. 'But Helen was never entirely rational when it came to her horses, and I suppose she was desperate.'

Olivia frowned. 'But she must have intended to get the horses out.'

'Oh, yes. That would have been her intention. But old Ben Taylor, who was a kind of odd job man around the place, had bought some creosote the day before, and he'd left it in the barn overnight.'

'My G.o.d!'

'Yes.' Matthew acknowledged her horror. 'It was pretty terrible. The place went up like a Roman candle, and if we hadn't held Helen back she'd have died with her horses.'

Olivia didn't know what to say now, except, 'I"I'm sorry.'