Passion & Pleasure: Savage Awakening / For Pleasure...Or Marriage? / Taken for His Pleasure

Diane nodded. ‘And Fliss didn’t know the kid had left the rabbit here?’

‘Diane…’

Matt’s tone warned her not to proceed, but she spread her hands defensively. ‘I just want to know,’ she said innocently. ‘I suppose Amy still regards this place as her second home.’

Matt swung round then, a frown drawing his brows together. ‘What are you talking about?’

Diane looked smug now. ‘I thought you were sick of talking about it,’ she mocked, and then, realising she was pushing her luck, she gave in. ‘Fliss used to work for the old man who owned this place,’ she explained. ‘I’ve heard she used to bring the kid with her.’

‘What work did she do?’

‘What do drop-outs usually do?’ asked Diane contemptuously. ‘She was his housekeeper, of course. When she wasn’t working in the pub, that is.’

Matt poured coffee into two mugs and handed one to her. ‘For someone who claims not to have seen the woman for God knows how long, you seem to know a lot about her,’ he said, sinking gratefully onto one of the two stools he’d brought down from London. He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, feeling the reassuring kick of caffeine invading his system. ‘Are you a snob, Diane?’

‘No!’ She was indignant. ‘But I can’t help it if I think she was a fool to throw away a decent education to be a single mother.’

Matt arched a dark brow. ‘Is that what she did?’

‘Yes.’ Diane scowled. ‘I mean, she was sixteen, for God’s sake. She must have been crazy.’

‘Obviously she didn’t think so.’

Diane shrugged. ‘More fool her.’ She shook her head. ‘It was the talk of the village.’

‘I bet.’

‘Well, it was so stupid. She could have had an abortion. No one need have known anything about it. It wasn’t as if the boy wanted to marry her. Mummy thinks her mother never really got over it.’

‘Ah.’ Matt was beginning to understand. ‘So you get your information from your mother.’

Diane looked offended. ‘There’s no need to take that attitude. Mummy thought I’d be interested. After all, Fliss and I used to be friends.’ She grimaced. ‘To think, I used to be like her!’

Matt was not prepared to get into that one. Instead, he concentrated on his coffee, knowing that sooner or later Diane would remember what they’d been talking about before the other woman had knocked at the door.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that doesn’t matter now. You were telling me what you intend to do with this place. I mean, look around you, darling. It’s going to take a fortune to make it anything like habitable.’

‘A small fortune, perhaps,’ he allowed, with a wry smile. ‘And I don’t intend to do it all at once. Just the main bedroom and a couple of reception rooms. Most of the changes are cosmetic, anyway. According to Joe Francis, the building’s sound enough.’

‘But what does it matter?’ protested Diane, setting down her mug with hardly controlled frustration. ‘Matt, you’re not going to stay here. You may kid yourself that this is what you want, but that’s just a passing phase. As soon as you’re feeling yourself again, you’ll realise that you can’t live anywhere but London. Your job’s there; your friends are there. You don’t know anyone in Mallon’s End. Except Mummy and Daddy, of course, and you don’t really care for them. Admit it.’

‘I know Mrs—Miss Taylor,’ remarked Matt, knowing it would annoy her. But dammit, she was annoying him right now. ‘And you don’t know what I want, Diane. What you’re talking about is what you want. How do you know my priorities haven’t changed?’

‘Because I do know you!’ she exclaimed fiercely. ‘You’ll soon get bored doing nothing. Even if you don’t need the money.’

Matt shrugged. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Oh!’ Diane’s exclamation was impatient. ‘All right, what about me? Have you thought about me at all? I can’t live here. My job’s in London.’

‘I know that.’

‘And?’

Matt bent his head, rubbing palms that were suddenly slick with sweat over the knees of his pants. ‘And—I think it would be a good idea if we cooled it for a while—’

‘No!’

‘Yes.’ Matt knew he was being harsh but he really didn’t have a choice. Not in the circumstances. ‘Help me on this, Diane. I need some time on my own; time to get my head straight.’ He paused, considering his words. ‘Pretending things are the way they used to be isn’t going to do it.’

‘It could.’ Diane quickly crossed the room to kneel at his feet. ‘Darling, don’t do this to me. To us. We’re so good together.’

We were, thought Matt flatly, making no attempt to touch her. ‘Diane—’

‘No, listen to me.’ She looked up at him appealingly, her heart-shaped face alight with enthusiasm, grey eyes entreating now, eager to persuade him she was right. ‘I can help you, darling. You know I can. But not if you send me away.’

‘Dammit, I’m not sending you away,’ he muttered grimly, but she wasn’t listening to him.

Moving his hands aside, she replaced them with her own. For a moment, she was still. And then, watching him with an almost avid concentration, she slid her hands along his thighs to the apex of his legs. Her intention was clear. When she licked her lips, he could see her anticipation. Then, she spread his legs and came between them…

Matt couldn’t let her go on. With a surge of revulsion, he thrust her aside and sprang to his feet. Somehow he managed to put the width of the room between them, his pulse racing, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. But it wasn’t a good feeling. He felt sick, and sickened, by what she’d tried to do, and he could hardly bear to look at her now.

‘Well…’ Diane got to her feet, bitterness and disappointment etched sharply on her flushed face. ‘You had only to say no, Matt. There was no need to practically knock me over in your eagerness to get away from me.’

Matt groaned. ‘Diane, please—’

‘At least I know where I stand,’ she went on, patting down her skirt, brushing a thread of cotton from the silk jersey. ‘What happened in Abuqara, Matt? Did you suddenly acquire a taste for different flesh from mine? Or was it something even more extreme? A change of sex, perhaps?’

Matt’s hands balled into fists at his sides. ‘I think you’d better go, Diane,’ he said harshly. ‘Before I forget I was brought up to be a gentleman.’

She stared at him for a moment, and then her face crumpled, the coldness in her expression giving way to a woeful defeat. ‘Oh, Matt,’ she breathed, scrubbing at the tears that were now pouring down her cheeks, ‘you know I didn’t mean that. I love you. I’d never do anything—say anything to hurt you.’

Matt felt weariness envelop him. It was all too much. Diane was too much. She had no idea how he was feeling and he didn’t have the urge—or the patience—to deal with her histrionics.

That was why he’d bought this house in the first place. He’d known Diane would not be able to accompany him and he’d persuaded himself that she’d come to see it was the best solution for both of them. He still cared about her, of course he did. But she had to understand that his attitude had changed, his aspirations had changed. He was not the man he used to be.

God help him!

‘Look,’ he said at last, crossing his arms against any attempt she might make to touch him again, ‘I know this has been hard for you, Diane. It’s been hard for both of us. And I don’t expect you to give up your life in London and move down here.’

Diane sniffed. ‘So what? You’re giving me the brush-off.’

‘No.’ Matt gave an inward groan. ‘I’m not saying I never want to see you again—’

‘Is that supposed to reassure me?’ Diane pushed back her silvery cap of hair with a restless hand. ‘Matt, I thought you loved me; I thought that one day we might—well, you know, make it legal.’

‘And I’m not saying we won’t. One day,’ said Matt steadily. ‘Come on, Diane, you know I’m right. It’s just not working right now.’