A Kiss To Remember Read online

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he muttered darkly. ‘I can think of someone I’d like to strangle at this very moment.’

  ‘Really?’ she mocked. ‘Yet only a moment ago you wanted to dance with me?’

  His glare was savage, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Who said I was talking about you?’ he ground out. ‘Let’s go, lover.’

  Any protest at this last tag was obliterated when Lance roughly repossessed her hand and hauled her downstairs. Neither did she object when he dragged her into a room where dance music was playing, and yanked her hard against him.

  Their mutual anger lent a perverse edge to the unwanted desire that was still pulsating through Angie’s veins. Soon, the throbbing beat of the music plus the heat of Lance’s skin had her senses all awhirl, any common sense routed. Stupidly, she wound her arms up around his neck and sank against the body she’d always coveted, the body of the man she’d always loved.

  But it was desire, not love, which was ruling her at that moment. It seemed to be ruling Lance as well.

  Their eyes clashed—his hooded, hers widening. For she could feel his stark arousal pressing into her silk-covered stomach. Yet it was her own raw and highly primitive response to that arousal which surprised her the most. God, but she wanted him. And she wanted him now!

  ‘Lance,’ she breathed shakily.

  ‘What?’ he bit out, pulling back from her a little.

  ‘I...I...’

  ‘So here you are!’ Bud broke in, his hand clamping on Lance’s shoulder and spinning him away from a flushed Angie. Luckily the room was dimly lit, with disco-style lights flashing. That, plus the many other dancing couples, precluded Bud noticing too much. Thank heavens.

  ‘I looked upstairs but couldn’t find either of you,’ Bud raved on heartily. ‘For a second there, I thought you’d run off together.’ Bud laughed, and so did Lance. Drily.

  Privately Angie thought that her running off with Lance somewhere was a distinct possibility. Right now, she would do whatever he wanted.

  It was a mortifying realisation, and one which brought her real personal pain. How could she possibly counsel other people on matters of life when her own could spin out of all control so quickly? She should have more will-power, more self-respect. Twenty-four years old and she was acting like an immature, hormone-filled teenager!

  Angie would have been quite happy about being reduced to a state of mindless passion if Lance had cared about her.

  But he didn’t.

  At best, he was physically attracted to her. At worst, he was using her as a way of getting back at his wife. Either way his desire for her was a very casual and fleeting thing, to be indulged in this one night and forgotten in the morning.

  Angie, however, would not forget it in the morning. She could see herself now—torn by remorse and regret, plunged into despair and self-disgust. Lance would go off on his merry way, leaving her again to die another thousand deaths in the wake of his empty charm and superficial sex-appeal.

  But, oh...how his charm could charm—and how his sex appeal appealed ...

  Even now, all she wanted was for Bud to get the hell out of here and let Lance take her in his arms once more.

  Exasperation came to her rescue. If the man affects you physically like this, she lectured herself valiantly, then stay away from him, for goodness’ sake. Don’t look at him anymore. Don’t dance with him. Don’t go anywhere near him!

  In fact, go home!

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said swiftly, before she could change her mind. ‘I... I have to go and see Loretta about something. You and Lance must have loads of things to talk about. I’ll catch up with you later, Lance.’

  Angie fled without looking back, surging past various gyrating couples and heading straight for the cupboard under the stairs where she’d put her jacket and bag.

  Retrieving them both, she draped the black jacket over her shoulders, then closed the cupboard door and hurried towards the front door, opening her handbag as she went. It was a largish black patent leather number, with a zipper running along the top and one roomy cavernous area inside, filled to the brim with all sorts of female paraphernalia. Make-up. Tissues. Perfume. A nail file. Nail clippers. Bobby-pins. Safety pins. Comb. A mirror.

  Plus her car keys.

  Somewhere...

  Angie ground to a halt, swearing under her breath as she blindly rifled through the mess with her hand. She encountered everything but her keys.

  God, but that was so typical! Whenever one wanted to find something desperately, one never could. Speed was of the essence too. Any moment, Loretta or Lance or Bud might appear, wondering what she was doing and where she was going. Her brother would be annoyed with her for leaving his party so early but she would survive his disapproval. She might not survive something else if she stayed.

  ‘Lord, where are those damned keys!’ she groaned aloud.

  Frustrated, she raced over and tipped the entire contents out on to the hall console; the keys were the last thing to clatter on to the marble surface.

  ‘Looking for this?’

  Angie gasped when Lance materialised to reach over her shoulder and pick up the condom Vanessa had mischievously dropped into her bag and which lay with garish clarity among her make-up and other possessions.

  Whirling, she went to snatch it back, but he was too quick for her, slipping it into his trouser pocket. Angie glared at him. No way was she going to try to retrieve it from there!

  Her cheeks burning, she spun back to the console and scooped everything but the keys into her still open bag. Picking up the keys, she dangled them in the mirror on the wall for him to see. ‘These are what I was looking for. But do keep the condom, Lance, No doubt you’ll be needing it before the night is out. A superstud like yourself won’t have any problem finding some pretty little thing to oblige you.’

  ‘Do you always carry condoms around with you?’ he asked as she zipped up her bag and rammed it under her arm.

  Angie turned to glare at him, livid at the look of hypocritical reproach on his face. ‘Why not?’ she flung at him, her defiant expression reminding her of Debbie that afternoon. ‘A girl never knows when she’s going to get lucky, after all.’ Rather enjoying his ongoing air of shock, Angie lifted her chin proudly, then hurried down the hall and out through the front door.

  The sight of a sleek black car parked behind hers in the driveway, barring her escape, brought a groan of dismay to her lips.

  ‘Blast,’ she muttered. ‘Someone parked their damned car behind me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t think you should be driving anywhere,’ Lance said quietly from behind her. ‘You’re obviously drunk.’

  Now she really lost her temper. ‘And why, exactly, must I be drunk?’ she fumed, spinning round and planting furious hands on her hips. ‘It wouldn’t be because I’ve chosen to leave your not so salubrious company, would it? Or because I’ve decided to be the exception and not surrender to your oh, so irresistible charm this evening?’

  ‘No,’ he returned calmly. ‘It’s because I’ve finally realised you’ve been acting totally out of character ever since I arrived. Now, why would that be, I’m beginning to wonder?’

  Her slow handclap reeked of sarcasm. ‘Bravo, Lance. You’ve had virtually nothing to do with me for nine years and you claim to know what my usual character is. Believe it or not, old friend, a girl changes somewhat between fifteen and twenty-four. This is me these days, Lance,’ she said, scooping off her covering jacket with one hand, clasping her bag in the other then twirling round so that he could see every inch of her provocative dress. ‘It wouldn’t be that you can’t cope with your “sweet Angie” being sexually active, would it? Even nice girls do, Lance. And I do—quite often, in fact!’

  The moment the lie was out she regretted it. Crazy as it was, she hated seeing the disappointment in Lance’s face.

  Or was it something else she glimpsed behind those suddenly clouded eyes of his? Maybe it was... defeat?

  Th
e idea of Lance feeling anything like defeat bewildered Angie. Yet his shoulders were beginning to sag and there was an air of wretchedness about his slightly slumped form.

  Maybe, she conceded with great difficulty, maybe he was more upset about his marriage break-up than she’d believed. Maybe he’d really been in love with his wife...

  As much as Angie hated that idea, it showed that Lance was capable of feeling deeply about a woman. Bud had had little to do with his friend since their marriages, so his old opinion of Lance’s character might be totally out of date. Angie herself had just made the point that people changed. Well, maybe Lance had changed as well.

  She’d no sooner starting thinking sympathetic thoughts about him than he snapped out of his dejected demeanour, straightening up and throwing her a ruefully sexy smile.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m being somewhat of a hypocrite. You’re only young once, and you’re just as entitled to sow your wild oats as anyone else. Any reason why you can’t sow some of them with me?’

  Angie just shook her head. So much for Lance having changed.

  ‘Nope?’ he mocked. ‘Oh, well, can’t blame a guy for trying. Come for a drive with me, then?’

  Angie stamped her foot in total exasperation. ‘What is it with you? Can’t you see I don’t want to go anywhere with you? I just want to go home. If I knew who owned that damned car I’d get him to move it and—’

  She broke off when Lance smiled a smug smile.

  ‘It’s your car, isn’t it?’ she said frustratedly.

  ‘Sure is. Actually, Bud asked me to go buy some more beer from the local grog shop. He said you’d show me where to go. I’m sure he had no idea you were thinking of going home. Why are you, anyway? The night’s still young. Who knows? You might get lucky, after all.’

  Angie chose to ignore Lance’s last remarks. ‘Why doesn’t Bud go get the beer himself?’

  ‘Because he’s finally cornered a very important potential client. You know what advertising people are like, Angie. Much the same as insurance salesmen. They’re always working.’

  Angie felt that underneath his light-hearted attitude Lance was denigrating her brother’s profession. ‘Well, at least Bud works,’ she bit out.

  Lance looked taken aback. ‘You think I don’t?’

  Angie shrugged, aware that she’d been abominably rude to Lance tonight. Whether or not he deserved her contempt was not the point.

  ‘One day,’ he grated, taking her elbow, ‘I’m going to sit you down and tell you some cold, hard facts about my life. You have a very jaundiced view of it. But not tonight,’ he added as he shepherded her down the steep driveway past her small red Lancer and over to the passenger door of his car. ‘Tonight is Bud’s birthday party, some more beer is needed, and his sweet sister is going to show me where to get it!’

  ‘I will, provided there’s no funny business,’ she stated firmly at the passenger door. ‘No passes. No suggestive remarks. No nothing. Just down to the grog shop and back again. Then I get to take my car home.’

  ‘Scout’s honour,’ Lance said, and crossed his heart.

  ‘Hmph!’ Angie grunted. ‘I doubt you were ever a Boy Scout, Lance Sterling.’ And she wrenched open the car door.

  She didn’t recognise the make and didn’t much care. It was a rich man’s car, which smelt of real leather and had probably cost a fortune. She climbed in and belted herself properly, determined not to make a single complimentary remark. Let him think that she often rode around in rich men’s cars! Let him think whatever he damned well liked about her, as long as he kept his hands off!

  ‘Second street on the right,’ she told him sharply, once he’d reversed out and was heading in the right direction. ‘There’s a drive-in bottle shop a couple of hundred yards down on the left.’

  There certainly was, but its driveway was crammed with cars. Lance parked in the street, growling, ‘Be back in a minute,’ before he alighted and strode off to get the beer.

  Butterflies invaded her stomach as she waited for him to return. She wasn’t sure why. Was it that she didn’t trust Lance—or herself? Sitting there quietly in the car was certainly not conducive to sensible thinking. It allowed that devil’s voice back into her mind, the one which told her not to let Lance get away a second time, to take what was on offer, even if it was only sex. After all, it wouldn’t be just sex on her part, would it? It would be making love as well.

  Yeah, right, she argued back silently. And what do you think would happen as soon as he found out you were a virgin? A man of his experience would know for sure. You wouldn’t be able to pull the wool over Lance’s eyes. Too bad you’re not the free spirit you’ve been painting yourself to be all evening, then there wouldn’t be any trouble.

  What irony, Angie conceded bleakly. Who would have believed that her old-fashioned morality would cost her what she had always wanted most, besides Lance’s love?

  Still, her thoughts had calmed her agitation somewhat, and had made her see that to run off home like a frightened rabbit was totally unnecessary. Recalling her virginal state had strengthened her earlier resolve not to do anything with Lance. She would rather die than be on the end of his mockery!

  He came striding back, smiling wryly over at her as he climbed into the car. ‘You stayed,’ he said somewhat drily. ‘I thought you might run away again.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m done with running away for tonight.’

  ‘And what, precisely, does that mean?’ he demanded to know.

  ‘It means, Lance, that I’ve decided not to go home after all.’

  ‘You never did explain why you were leaving in the first place.’

  ‘I guess I was worried you were lining me up as another notch on your gun.’

  ‘Ah. Back to Casanova, are we?’ He shook his head as he restarted the car. ‘I can see I have no hope of changing your opinion of me. It’s fixed in concrete in your mind. Still, maybe I can chip away at that concrete over time...’

  Glancing over his right shoulder, he executed a perfect U-turn and accelerated back up the road, neither of them saying another word till he swung his car into Bud’s driveway and braked barely an inch from Angie’s bumper-bar.

  ‘Very impressive,’ she muttered caustically.

  Lance laughed. ‘Glad to see I’ve impressed you in some small way. There was a time, though, when I impressed you in just about every way, wasn’t there? I could have said the world was flat and you would have believed me. I could have asked you to walk on water and you would have tried.’

  Angie twisted to stare at him with pained eyes. ‘That...that time is long gone,’ she said, shaken by his words.

  ‘True,’ he bit out. ‘But there is one way where I suspect I still make an impression. And that’s this way,’ he rasped, snapping off his seat belt and leaning over to capture her startled mouth with his before she could do a damned thing to stop him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Shock held Angie compliant for a few seconds, giving Lance the opportunity to kiss her very thoroughly, and to very good effect. But, despite her pounding heart and swirling senses, Angie was just mustering her courage to bite his marauding tongue when it withdrew.

  Unfortunately, Lance misinterpreted her moan of dismay.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he whispered, raining soft wet kisses all over her face. ‘I feel the same. This had to happen one day. You know it as well as I do.’

  ‘No!’ she gasped. Or was it groaned?

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he insisted, then kissed her again, as if to prove it. She did her best to ward him off, moving her head from side to side while her hands pushed at his shoulders, but both gestures proved futile.

  ‘Don’t be such a little hypocrite,’ he muttered, grabbing her hands and pressing them into the leather seat on either side of her twisting head. ‘You want me to make love to you. That’s why you’ve been calling me names all night, because underneath you despise yourself for wanting me. That’s why you tried to run away back there, b
ecause you were afraid to stay—afraid of what I might do.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she spat at him.

  ‘Then what is it you’re afraid of?’ he taunted. ‘Surely not the consequences of our making love? Have you forgotten I’ve got your very own protection in my pocket?’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten a thing.’

  ‘Which, of course, is the main thrust of your dilemma. I’m still being punished for what I did nine years ago. Would you believe me if I said I did what I did back then for you, sweet Angie? Would it be unthinkable to attribute me with some honour?’

  ‘Honour?’ she repeated in blank amazement.

  ‘Well, maybe not honour,’ he said drily. ‘You always did produce dishonourable thoughts in me. But I tried to do the right thing in the end.’

  Which just showed how much she had meant to him that summer. The only feelings she had inspired in him back then had been lust. Nothing more.

  ‘And now, Lance?’ she asked derisively. ‘Are you trying to do the right thing now?’

  ‘Hell, no, Angie. I can see this is my one and only chance to have what I’ve always wanted—in a fashion—and I aim to take that chance by fair means or foul.’

  ‘Bud will throttle you if he comes out and sees us together like this,’ she warned him.

  ‘No one can see into this car. It has specially tinted glass. Besides, Bud isn’t going to come out.’

  ‘Wh-why not?’

  ‘Because he’s very, very busy with that potential client of his. On top of that, he has no idea we’re out here.’

  ‘But-but...’

  ‘Bud didn’t ask me to buy any beer. I made that up on the spur of the moment to get you alone.’

  ‘Why, you... you... If you kiss me again,’ she hissed, ‘I’ll bite your damned tongue off.’

  ‘Thanks you for the warning, lover,’ he murmured through a menacing smile. ‘I’ll make sure I keep away from those pearly white teeth of yours, in that case.’

  His mouth landed at the base of her throat, and Angie drew in a sharp breath when he started to suck on the fluttering flesh he found there.