Deceit Of A Pagan. Кэрол Мортимер
‘Ah, now that is different. I too know many women who like to sit quietly, but that does not mean that you cannot see they have plenty they would like to say. As to my not knowing many women, I can assure you that I have not lived for thirty-six years without coming to know the complexities of women very well. I, like you, have had many—acquaintances, shall we say?’
‘I understand, Mr Marcose. I understand perfectly!’
‘No, you do not. But it is unimportant that you do,’ he glanced sideways at her. ‘And my name is Leon—use it.’
She bit her lips to stop them trembling. All her efforts to never see this man again had been futile. She should have realised that a man of his arrogance and bearing would not let an insignificant nonentity like herself stop him from getting what he wanted. Well, perhaps she wasn’t completely insignificant, she was Keri’s mother after all.
‘I can’t call you Leon,’ she said finally when she had her emotions under better control. ‘You may be Keri’s uncle, but that doesn’t give you any special privileges where I’m concerned. If you’re anything like her father then I would rather not have met you at all. My meeting with Alex was born out of necessity rather than choice.’
‘And does the fact that he is dead and unable to help you make your need any less important?’ he snapped harshly. ‘Or are you willing to carry on as you have been doing, barely managing to support the two of you and having to accept your employer’s pawing in an effort to hold on to your job?’
There could be no doubt about it, Leondro Marcose was furiously angry. Up until now Templar had seen him condescending, arrogant, chillingly cool, and just downright rude, but never angry. In anger his eyes became a steely grey and his face gained an animation she found fascinating. But no, this man was made out of the same mould as his brother, taking his pleasures where he could and leaving the woman involved without a second thought, if indeed he had had first ones.
‘I would welcome your pawing even less,’ she told him vehemently.
‘You will never be given the opportunity to welcome or reject my touch.’ His eyes flickered over her insolently, from the auburn glory of her hair, over her make-upless face, and slowly down over her naturally slender body. She heaved a sigh of relief when the traffic lights changed to green, his attention once again centred on the road. ‘You do not attract me in the slightest,’ he added cruelly.
‘You can be assured that the feeling is reciprocated!’
‘Good,’ he said with some satisfaction. ‘And now that we have disposed of that little matter perhaps we can attempt an unemotional conversation. I would like to know what you think you have achieved by changing your address?’
‘Nothing, obviously.’
‘You hoped to evade making a decision one way or the other?’ Leondro Marcose queried mildly. ‘But surely you did not think that once I knew of Keri’s existence I would calmly leave you to make your choice? But no! You have a noticeably stubborn streak in your nature, Templar Newman, and I guessed you might attempt something of this nature. You have been closely watched since we last spoke together.’
‘I’ve been what?’
‘You have been watched,’ he repeated calmly.
She looked at him sharply. ‘So you’ve been checking up on me? And how many men were reported to have visited my flat?’ she asked sneeringly.
‘Only one. And apparently he did not look too pleased when he left the premises.’
‘Really? Oh dear, I must be slipping. My men usually go away satisfied,’ she told him shrilly.
‘Templar!’ he snapped, looking at her darkly. ‘You will not talk in this way.’
‘Why not? It’s what you expect of me, isn’t it, that men come to see me for one reason only?’ Her green eyes flashed her anger.
‘I have not said so,’ he replied stiffly.
‘No, but you’ve implied it.’
He shook his dark head. ‘Not in the way that you are saying it. If I thought that you went to bed with every man you met then Keri’s future would already have been settled—I would simply have taken her away from you. No, I believe that you have a certain amount of affection for the men you—please, otherwise you would not still have Keri in your care. I would have removed her straight away.’
‘Well, thank you very much for your faith in my morals, Mr Marcose, but I don’t need it. What you do or do not think doesn’t make any difference to me. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’
‘Not even for the baby?’ he asked softly.
‘Not even for her!’
With a tightening of his mouth he made no comment and Templar saw, thankfully, that they were nearing her flat. What would he do now? Would he simply take Keri away from her or would he not carry out his threat to do so? Somehow Templar knew he was a man of his word, and that her agreement to his plans wasn’t necessary to him. She hadn’t meant it just now when she had said she wouldn’t marry him to keep Keri, it just wasn’t true. She had been willing to marry Ken to keep her, and she was just as willing to marry this cold hard stranger for the same reason.
Without being given directions he had driven straight to her tiny flat, following her into the house where she collected Keri from a smiling Mrs Street and carried the gurgling baby up to her own room. This was the time of day she loved best with the baby, when she could play with her for an hour or so, give her her bath, feed her, and then tuck her sleepily into her little cot. If she had carried on with her modelling career all this would have been left to a nanny, with her snatching the odd day with the baby in between travelling to assignments. Much as she loved this daily ritual with Keri it would have to wait a while this evening. Rather annoyingly Keri seemed to have taken a liking to the tall man with her ‘Mama’, holding out her arms to him to be held. Templar thrust her into his arms, turning away tearfully as Keri gave him her angelic smile and received a softening of those harsh features in return.
‘Excuse me,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll just go and put the kettle on.’ She fled into the kitchen before she made an absolute fool of herself. Close together like that there had been little doubt about their family likeness, and in a way Templar thought it unfair that Keri should have none of her mother’s fair looks at all. Poor Tiffany, who had given her life for that small precious bundle of fun gurgling so happily in the arms of her aunt’s greatest enemy.
Oh God, how she cursed herself for ever writing that letter! She should have waited for a few months, seen if things improved in any way. Instead her impetuous nature had led her into even greater unhappiness.
‘Templar?’
She didn’t turn, trying unsuccessfully to erase the tears from her cheeks. She felt herself gently turned round and she shivered slightly at the touch of his firm brown hands on her shoulders. Instantly they were removed. She looked at him through a sea of tears, flinching at the grim look in his now slate-grey eyes.
He forced up her chin. ‘Now stop this, Templar, it is unnecessary. And it spoils your beauty.’
She gave a tremulous smile at his gentle tone. ‘I thought that had already been spoilt.’
He turned away. ‘I have never denied your beauty, as I have never denied that Keri is like you in every way. Keri?’ he queried sharply. ‘Is this not a strange name?’
‘It’s short for Kerina,’ Templar explained, although she thought this an even more unusual name. Tiffany had chosen it herself during the few hours of life she had left to her after the birth of her daughter. Templar had never questioned it, but in the way that often happens the name had soon become shortened to Keri, and now she couldn’t imagine that little squirming mass of fun being called anything else.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked shortly.
‘Of