Knight to the Rescue Read online

  ‘You really are a knight in shining armour, aren’t you?’ she said, a tender light shining in her eyes as she gazed at him.

  The compliment clearly rattled him for a moment.

  ‘But you don’t have to keep on rescuing me, Mr Knight,’ she went on shakily. ‘You’ve already done enough. I’m...very grateful to you.’ She bit her bottom lip when tears suddenly pricked at her eyes.

  ‘Come on...’ He took her hand and slid out of the booth, pulling her with him. ‘You’re coming home with me for a while and that’s final. I don’t live far.’

  ‘Oh, but I can’t, Mr Knight. I...I...’

  ‘Don’t argue with me, Audrey. This is for your own good. And for pity’s sake, call me Elliot! And before you ask, no, I’m not married. Neither do I have a girlfriend who might get the wrong idea. Does that settle all your doubts?’

  Audrey might have resisted but in all truth she didn’t want to go back to the office. Neither did she think Elliot had any dark sexual motive for taking her home. Not with her!

  It wasn’t till she was led over to the black Saab Cabriolet parked outside that she ground to a halt, wrenching her hand away from Elliot’s solid grasp. ‘This is your car?’ she asked, an instant quavering in her voice.

  He frowned first at her, then at the car. ‘Yes? Something wrong with it?’

  ‘No...no, I suppose not,’ she agreed stiffly, and with grim determination climbed into the sporty car. Nevertheless, an automatic tension took hold of her once the car started round the narrow winding cliff road that led from Newport to Avalon Beach, and Audrey wondered grimly if she’d ever get over this phobia.

  She thought she managed to hide it quite well for the short trip, though she felt real relief when Elliot directed the car from the main road up a steep driveway. When he zoomed into an electronically operated garage underneath an impressively large ocean-view home and finally turned off the engine she let out a ragged, long-held breath.

  He shot her a curious look and turned to pick up a newspaper that was lying on the back seat. ‘You’re a very nervous passenger.’

  ‘Yes, I...speed makes me nervous,’ she admitted. ‘Men who own sports cars usually drive fast. You don’t, though. But then...you’re different from most men.’

  ‘Really?’ He laughed drily. ‘I doubt that, Audrey. I doubt that very much.’ And lanced her with the oddest look before abruptly turning away from her to alight.

  Her forehead puckered into a puzzled frown as he guided her up the internal spiral staircase to emerge on the lowest level of the split-level dwelling. What had he meant by that remark, and that look? That he was no better than Russell? That he might consider seducing an heiress, even if she wasn’t all that attractive?

  Even though she couldn’t believe her shining knight would do such a thing, Audrey’s newly cynical self still went on the alert.

  But the sight of the huge living-room with its high raked ceilings and wood-panelled walls reassured her again, as did the furniture and rugs—all valuable antiques. People didn’t rent homes full of such treasures, she decided logically. They owned them.

  ‘You must be very well off, Elliot,’ she said, relieved eyes sweeping around in a full circle. Goodness, if she wasn’t mistaken that was a Renoir on the wall. And a Gauguin! They didn’t look like prints, either.

  ‘Very,’ he agreed, striding across the room to throw the newspaper on an ornate Edwardian coffee table. ‘Make yourself at home.’ He waved towards the brown leather studded sofa that faced the fireplace.

  ‘What exactly do you do?’ she asked as she sat down.

  Elliot had moved over to the cold hearth of the marble fireplace when she threw this question at him. He sent her a wry glance over his shoulder then bent to put a firestarter into the dead ashes before arranging some kindling and firewood in a criss-cross pattern. ‘What do I do?’ he drawled as he struck a match. ‘Let’s see, now...’

  He stood up and turned to face her, a sardonic smile on his face. ‘Actually I haven’t been doing much at all lately. I went skiing a fortnight back. Yesterday, I read a fairly good book. Tomorrow I’m going to try my hand at betting on the races.’

  ‘Don’t you work?’

  ‘Shall we say, I have no need to unless I want to? And I haven’t been wanting to this year.’

  ‘Goodness,’ she exclaimed, totally intrigued by him now. ‘Were you born rich?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Elliot proceeded over to his built-in bar. ‘What do you fancy? Gin? Vodka? A glass of white wine?’

  ‘Oh—er—yes, white wine.’

  He turned and extracted a bottle of Riesling from a wall fridge, opening it like a man who’d had a lot of practice. Pouring a glass each, he carried them over to the sofa.

  Fascinated, her eyes followed his every move. He was so unconsciously graceful, yet so...masculine.

  ‘The truth is,’ he said as he handed over her glass and sat down in front of the crackling fire, ‘I was once married to a rich woman.’

  Shock sent her wine glass trembling, and wide eyes flashing to his. ‘You mean you married a woman for her money?’

  His self-irritation was obvious by the expression on his face. ‘No, of course not. Please don’t think that. I was merely explaining where a lot of my money came from. Moira died, you see. Late last year. Viral pneumonia,’ he finished tersely before she could ask.

  Audrey was taken aback that a person could die of pneumonia in the modern-day world of antibiotics. And said so.

  ‘My wife suffered from multiple sclerosis for some time,’ he elaborated reluctantly, ‘and had developed an aversion to doctors. I was away from home when she came down with what she thought was flu. Friends tell me she refused to call in a doctor. When I arrived home she was very ill. I raced her to hospital but she died within hours.’

  ‘Oh, how awful for you, Elliot,’ Audrey murmured.

  He looked uncomfortable with her sympathy, his fingers tightening around his glass. ‘Yes,’ he said gruffly. ‘Yes, it was.’

  For her part, Audrey could not get out of her mind how devastating such a situation must have been. To have one’s wife, or husband, snatched away so...unexpectedly young. But then, sudden death was always devastating. Nothing could ever prepare you for the gaping hole left in one’s life when a loved one was wrenched away abruptly.

  Audrey knew she was going to cry if she kept thinking on that subject. With an enormous strength of will, she pulled herself together, straightening her shoulders and taking a steadying breath. Only then did she notice Elliot was watching her very closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. Quite quickly she lifted her drink and took a sip, feeling embarrassed by his intense scrutiny.

  ‘You...didn’t have any children?’ she asked.

  The muscles in his jaw clenched down tightly. ‘No. Moira couldn’t have any. Can we change the subject?’ he demanded brusquely.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course.’ She felt guilty for having been so insensitive. Clearly he had loved this Moira very much. And was missing her terribly. Audrey fell awkwardly silent.

  ‘Tell me about Russell,’ he said at last.

  A shudder went through her. ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he stated matter-of-factly. ‘Perhaps I can give you a different perspective on the man, show him up for what he is. Someone not worthy of any heartache.’

  ‘Believe me, I can see that already.’

  ‘What about your father?’

  She frowned. ‘My father?’

  ‘Did he know you were going out with this Russell fellow?’

  Her chest tightened. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And he approved?’

  She shrugged in an effort to ease her instant inner tension. ‘He seemed pleased a man was taking some interest in me at last. My father is one of those men who thinks women are nothing if not married. He considers me prime spinster material,’ she finished with a bitter laugh.

  ‘That’s rubbish on all counts! Women don’t hav
e to marry early these days. Or at all, for that matter. Either way, you’re only a spring chicken.’

  ‘I’m twenty-one next week.’

  His laughter was dry. ‘Positively ancient.’

  ‘It is if you look the way I do. Lavinia always says that with money even the plainest girls can look good when they’re young, but after a certain age it’s downhill all the way.’

  Audrey was startled by the look of sheer fury that flashed into his eyes.

  ‘And who,’ he ground out, ‘is Lavinia?’

  ‘My stepmother.’

  ‘Your stepmother...’ One of his dark brows lifted in a sardonic fashion. ‘And your stepmother told you you were plain?’

  Audrey saw what he was thinking now. That Lavinia was the hackneyed wicked witch of a stepmother. ‘No, no, Lavinia wouldn’t be that cruel. She’s very nice to me. She tries awfully hard to help me with my hair and my clothes. But I’m a lost cause. Nothing seems to suit me.’

  All the while she was talking, Audrey could see Elliot was not convinced.

  ‘And how old is this stepmother of yours?’ he probed, eyes unreadable as they flicked over her. ‘The one who helps you with your hair and clothes.’

  ‘She’s in her late thirties. But she looks younger. She’s very beautiful, and very confident in herself.’

  An envious sigh escaped Audrey’s lips before she could prevent it. But she did so wish sometimes that she could look even half as gorgeous as Lavinia could.

  ‘I don’t know where you got the idea you weren’t attractive, Audrey,’ Elliot pronounced.

  An angry resentment flared within her. ‘Please don’t keep flattering me, Elliot. It’s not necessary. I know what I am and I know what I look like.’

  Suddenly there was no stopping the tears that had threatened all afternoon. They came with a rush, flooding her eyes, spilling down over her pale cheeks. Appalled at herself, she tried to choke back the sounds, to smother them by putting her wine glass down and dropping her face into her hands. And she succeeded. But her shoulders still shook uncontrollably, and she had no idea how heart-wrenching the sight of her was, huddled there, crying silent bitter despairing tears.

  ‘Audrey, don’t,’ Elliot groaned, and, putting his own glass down, gathered her into his arms. Quite automatically, her arms went round his securely solid chest to hug him with a desperate tightness.

  When one of his hands lifted to stroke her hair, Audrey’s response took her by surprise. Despite her distress, she thrilled to his touch and when he whispered sweet words of comfort she quivered with secret delight.

  ‘You are nice-looking, Audrey. I haven’t been flattering you...’

  How did it happen, that moment when he tipped her tear-stained face up and bent his mouth to hers? Audrey froze for a second, but his lips were soft, soothing. Instruments of sweetness and sympathy. She sighed into them, her own parting, her arms creeping up to slide around his neck.

  It was then that the kiss changed, that Elliot’s mouth abruptly turned hard and demanding, his hands tightening around her. He forced her lips widely apart and his tongue drove deep.

  A quiver of shock ran through Audrey’s body and she began to struggle against him, her hands beating at his chest in a wildly flowering panic.

  When he finally reefed backwards, her big brown eyes lanced his with shock and confusion.

  He shook his head, his face filling with self-disgust. ‘Oh, God...I’m sorry, Audrey. Terribly sorry.’ His shrug was as weary and frustrated as his voice. ‘I got carried away.’

  ‘But...but why?’ she choked out, staring at him. ‘I mean...’

  A black, sardonic grimace twisted his mouth. ‘There’s one more lesson you must learn today about men, Audrey,’ he growled. ‘When it comes to sex they’re basically animals. Sometimes, they want what they want when they want it, and who they’re having it with doesn’t figure largely in their minds. I’ve been celibate now for nearly a year. Judging by what just happened, I think my monastic existence is about to come to an end.

  ‘But not with you, my dear young girl,’ he added, slicing her with a rueful look. ‘Not with you... Come on. I’m taking you home.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  MONDAY morning found Audrey in a turmoil. She didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to face a sniggering Diane or a sulkily hostile Russell, didn’t want to spend the day pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

  Slumping down on the side of her bed, she buried her face in her hands. But there were no tears left to be spilled. She’d cried herself out last Friday night, cried and cried till she was drained of tears, drained of energy, drained of all emotion.

  Saturday she had spent in a deep dark depression, Sunday in an apathetic gloom.

  Now, the working week was beginning and her life was going on, whether she wanted it to or not. She had no alternative but to pull herself together and get on with living. But before she could do that she had to face, once and for all, the truth behind what had happened last Friday.

  Her head lifted from her hands, a confusing pain squeezing at her heart. Which had hurt her the most? she puzzled. Russell’s betrayal? Or Elliot Knight’s speedy defection?

  She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything any more. All she knew was what she had always known—or suspected—about herself. That she was a complete failure where men were concerned. Russell’s only reason for making love to her had been greed, Elliot’s pity. Not that his brief kiss could be termed ‘making love’.

  She would never forget his shock at his own behaviour. What on earth was he doing, he’d obviously thought, kissing this silly little nincompoop? And then getting carried away. No doubt he had to have been very frustrated at the time, Audrey decided bitterly. Nothing else could possibly explain a man like him turning uncontrollably passionate with someone like her. Russell had spelt it out. She had about as much sex appeal as a squashed frog!

  Russell...

  She could hardly bear to think of him, to think of what he had done. Or, more to the point, what she had allowed him to do. She was a fool—a stupid, naïve, plain, insecure little fool!

  More desolation was about to sweep in when Elliot’s compliments filtered back to her mind, the ones he’d insisted were sincere. He had said she had lovely skin, nice eyes and a very kissable mouth. Had he been merely flattering her, trying to make her feel better? Or could it be true? Her heart lifted a fraction. Even Russell had said she wasn’t that bad looking.

  She stood up and walked hesitantly over to the cheval mirror in the corner, her hand lifting to trace over her face and mouth as she stared into the mirror. In her opinion, her skin always looked too pale, her eyes too big, her mouth too little girlish. But yes...she supposed she wasn’t really ugly. Merely colourless.

  Her gaze lifted to her hair and she shuddered. Nothing colourless there.

  Russell’s hurtful comment about her clothes being ghastly jumped back into her mind and her eyes dropped to the hot pink suit she was wearing. A frown creased her brow as she accepted that, while it wasn’t exactly ghastly, it certainly didn’t look good. Odd, because Lavinia had a similar suit—in red—and it looked great on her. Audrey knew her figure was not as spectacular as her stepmother’s but it was still quite good. Slender, with enough curves in all the right places.

  Her frown deepened in frustration. If only she had some fashion sense of her own, some confidence in her own judgement.

  But she didn’t. She never had had. She wished there were someone other than Lavinia whose opinion she could ask, someone mature and objective who would be totally honest with her. It worried Audrey that perhaps Lavinia was saying things looked nice on her simply because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Her mind slid, for the umpteenth time since last Friday evening, to Elliot Knight.

  Elliot would tell her how it was. Elliot was honest, to the point of being blunt. Elliot...

  He had driven her home in grim silence, depositing her on her doorstep w
ith some very strong parting words.

  ‘I refuse to apologise again for what happened, Audrey,’ he said sharply. ‘You must take some of the responsibility. You’re a grown woman, and it’s about time you started acting and thinking like one. Firstly, in future don’t go letting any personable stranger talk you into going back to his place as you did with me this afternoon. It’s naïve and dangerous. Secondly, don’t go to bed with any man unless you, yourself, want to go to bed with him. Thirdly, be your own person in every way. Form your own opinions about who you are and where you’re going. You only have one life, Audrey. In the end, you’re the one who has to live with your decisions. Make sure they are yours.’

  He had gone to leave her, then added over his shoulder, ‘I won’t be calling you, Audrey. Don’t take this personally. Any continuing friendship with me at this point in time is not in your best interests. Of course, if you’re ever in any real trouble, please don’t hesitate to ring and I’ll help in any way I can.’

  Audrey sank down on the end of her bed with a sigh. She had to admit that wanting some advice about fashion hardly constituted real trouble. Not that she would dare ring him anyway. Quite frankly, she wouldn’t have the nerve. Just thinking about Elliot answering in that unswervingly direct voice of his made her quiver. In fact, thinking about Elliot at all was proving unnerving.

  Her stomach curled as she recalled how it had felt when he’d kissed her, when his tongue had thrust deep into her mouth. Her heart had leapt madly, and the blood had roared around her head for a few seconds. At the time, she had been stunned by the raw sexual desire that had flared within her. She had never felt anything like it with Russell. Even now, just thinking about it sent her into a spin. She kept wondering what would have happened if her shock hadn’t made her struggle, if Elliot hadn’t stopped.

  The thought started her heart racing. Audrey strongly suspected that it was these intense physical reactions Elliot could evoke in her—not so much Russell’s treachery—that had caused her such distress on Friday night. She’d been upset because she had not wanted Elliot to take her home. She had wanted him to take her to bed. There! She had admitted it. In fact, if she didn’t know better she might believe she had fallen out of love with one man and fallen in love with another in a single afternoon! Which was crazy!