Seducing The Enemy

“No. But I don’t necessarily like what people do with it, Mr. Wolfe.”

“Call me Daniel. I have a passion for truth. I do hope you share it.”

He was dangerous. He could turn on a pin, dodge and weave and strike with devastating cunning and speed. The barrister who could turn black into white.

“I’m not sure I want to share anything with you, Mr Wolfe. I don’t know you.”

“At this point, you only need to know one thing about me. If one path is blocked, I find another.”

He was threatening her with going to Isabel. She sensed the ruthlessness behind the teasing challenge in his eyes. Would he care what he trampled on in going down that path? Isabel’s guilty conscience would make her an easy target for him. Then what damage would be done?

“Have dinner with me.” He flashed another disarming grin. “It’s always better to know the enemy.”

Annabel ignored the flutter in her heart and bluntly asked, “Are you my enemy?”

The grin turned into a whimsical smile. “Lovers would be more to my liking.”

It took Annabel’s breath away. This was no whimsy. He meant it. She could feel it, his desire—will—to peel back every layer of her until nothing was unknown to him.

Well, two could play at that game, she thought with reckless determination. As long as he was engaged with her, he would leave Isabel alone. But becoming lovers? A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. Daniel Wolfe was not the kind of man who would be satisfied with anything less than everything. All the same, she would give him a hard run to the line he’d drawn, and maybe he’d back off in the end.

“I don’t take lovers lightly,” she warned.

“Neither do I.”

“Dinner I’ll accept.”

“It’s always exciting, embarking on a journey of discovery.”

“Yes.” Her eyes taunted his confidence. “A pity the reality rarely lives up to the anticipation, but the food is good here. I’m sure we’ll find something to enjoy.”

With an adrenaline rush at the thought of pitting wits with him over the next couple of hours, Annabel strode ahead, disdaining any fear of him. What was more, she would eat a good dinner even if she choked on every bite. She would not let Daniel Wolfe spoil anything!

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNABEL sipped the pina colada, enjoying the sweet creaminess of the tropical cocktail and the energy lift it gave her. She needed to be sparking on all cylinders in Daniel Wolfe’s company. Nevertheless, her primary aim was to appear relaxed and completely unruffled by the situation.

She had deliberately requested a table on the wooden deck by the pool. The atmosphere was more intimate but she preferred to be distanced from the busy comings and goings inside the Long House, where the main dining room catered for a large crowd of guests. The light out here was dimmer, provided only by small table lamps. Her need for a sense of privacy overrode any sense of intimacy Daniel Wolfe might draw from her choice.

With the business of studying menus and making their meal selections over and the waiters gone elsewhere, Annabel let her gaze drift idly around the exotic plants that provided a lush setting for the artistically curved swimming pool. This was Daniel Wolfe’s party. It was up to him to set the conversational ball rolling. In projecting the air of pleasing herself, she denied any anxiety or apprehension over his intrusion on the scene.

Silence didn’t worry her. The longer it went on the better, as far as she was concerned. She knew he was scrutinising her, trying to burrow under her skin, but that didn’t worry her, either. He could study her as much as he liked. With her face in shadow and turned away from him, he wouldn’t see much.

“You remind me very strongly of the young Katharine Hepburn,” he said bemusedly.

Other people had made the same comment. Annabel supposed she should be flattered by it, since she was not as fine-featured nor as beautiful as the famous actress. It was the wavy red hair, green eyes, high cheekbones and wide mouth that made the comparison inevitable. Secretly she wished simply to be herself. Sometimes, although she deeply loved her sister, being a twin made her feel she wouldn’t ever be a whole person in her own right.

She slowly slanted a sardonic smile at Daniel Wolfe. “Do you have the same aim as Spencer Tracy when he first met Katharine Hepburn?”

“What was it?”

“I believe she made a comment about him being too short for her. He reportedly replied he would soon cut her down to size.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It doesn’t apply.”

“Because you’re tall?”

“No. I wouldn’t like to see you diminished in any way.”

Her eyes mocked him. “What do you think you’ve been doing?”

It gave him pause for thought.

“Come, Mr. Wolfe. A man with a passion for truth should realise what he’s saying and how it will impact on the other person.”

“In what way have I offended you?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Diminished, not offended. Let’s be precise. In matters of truth, one must be precise.”

She enjoyed tossing his purpose in his face, making him examine his attitudes and behaviour before setting himself up as a judge. Besides, there were always so many interpretations of truth. It was often a highly personal thing. Even facts and figures could be twisted to suit someone’s preferred vision. Precision was not easily achieved.

He relaxed and smiled, and she thought he was enjoying the mental tussle she was provoking. “Tell me my crime,” he encouraged.

He really was extremely attractive when his expression lightened. For one wayward moment, Annabel imagined waking up in the morning with his smiling face on the pillow beside her. It had a strong appeal.

“Let’s try this scenario,” she invited, leaning forward to engage his concentration. “You take a woman you fancy to bed. There you are, all fired up with desire, and she says you’re the spitting image of your brother. Then she says you remind her strongly of Met Gibson, except your eyes are grey instead of blue. Are you still feeling good about having this woman beside you?”

“No. She’s not focused on the person I am.”

She grinned at him. “Feeling somewhat diminished, Daniel?”

He gave a wry laugh. “Guilty on two counts,” he agreed, conceding the argument to her.

She sat back, ridiculously pleased he had caught her point so quickly. Her eyes flirted with him. She was taking wicked pleasure in putting him on the spot. “I wouldn’t like a lover who didn’t make me feel uniquely special to him.”

Heart-tripping desire flashed out at her. “You are unique. Superficial likenesses are irrelevant to the person you are inside.”

She shook her head, trying to quell the treacherous response he evoked as she rebutted his opinion. “They’re not really irrelevant, you know. In some ways they shape the inner person.” Her mouth twisted ruefully. “Who knows how I would have developed if I hadn’t been a twin?”

“The strength of mind and inner fire would still be there,” he said with certainty.

“Is that what you see?”

“More like feel. I’d no sooner laid eyes on you than it hit me like a sledgehammer. I’ve never experienced so much concentrated mental and emotional power. A totally annihilating blast. It made me wonder if you were telepathic.”

Had it made him suspicious?

Annabel silently fretted over what might have been a telling overreaction to him that night at the motel. She had been under intense pressure to keep alert and make all the right responses, leaving no crack in her credibility. When he had stepped into the room, she’d been wound up tight, having already fielded a host of questions from the motel people, the ambulance officers, the police. Someone had tipped off the media, as well, and reporters were baying for blood outside.