She half shook her head. ‘Even it that were true, the world’s full of beautiful women.’
One in particular.
‘In the past I’ve had my share of beautiful women. But I find that, after you, none of them will do. It’s you I want in my bed and in my life.’
‘I don’t understand why,’ she cried desperately.
His voice cold as steel, he said, ‘For one thing, there’s a score to settle. You owe me.’
CHAPTER TWO
WHITE to the lips, she whispered, ‘A score to settle?’
‘Why should that surprise you? You must have known that leaving me as you did would make me look a complete and utter fool?’
She couldn’t even deny it. Part of her had wanted to pay him back. Wanted to wound him as much as he’d wounded her. Wanted to destroy his world, as he’d destroyed hers.
Afraid that he might read it in her eyes, she looked away, watching a small boy in a blue T-shirt and red shorts run towards the lake. He was clutching a shining new toy yacht, obviously a birthday present, and a stick.
As he knelt on the low parapet to launch the vessel into the water, his mother, who was wheeling a baby in a pushchair, called, ‘Be careful, Thomas. Don’t fall in. The water’s deep.’
When—his will was proving stronger than hers—Virginia’s eyes were drawn irresistibly back to Ryan’s, he pursued. ‘Apart from that, when you just disappeared and I had no idea where you were or what had happened to you, I nearly went out of my mind with worry. Since then I’ve spent two-and-a-half years and a small fortune looking for you.
‘Now I’ve found you, I want you in my bed. I want to make love to you until you’re begging for mercy and I’m sated. Then I want to start all over again. Does the thought of being made love to until you’re begging for mercy turn you on?’
Heat running through her, she said thickly, ‘No! I can’t bear the thought of you touching me.’
His handsome eyes gleamed. ‘Knowing that will give me great satisfaction, and add immeasurably to my pleasure—’
A simultaneous yelp of fright, a splash, and a high-pitched scream cut through his words.
Ryan was on his feet in an instant and running towards the lake as the woman with the pushchair continued to scream hysterically.
He said something short and sharp to her that stopped the screaming, and a second later he had cleared the parapet and had plunged into the water.
Rooted to the spot, Virginia watched him haul the small dripping figure from the lake and set him on his shoulders. Judging by the roars of fright the child was letting forth, he was mercifully uninjured.
The water was somewhere in the region of three-and-a-half feet deep, and came past Ryan’s waist, as he waded a few steps to rescue the capsized yacht.
Letting go of the pushchair, the woman, now sobbing loudly with relief, hovered, arms outstretched ready to embrace her son.
Belatedly, Virginia’s brain kicked into action, and realising that no real harm had been done, she grabbed her bag and leaving Ryan to cope, bolted.
Hurrying as fast as she could to the nearest of the park’s side entrances, she made her way between the ornate metal bollards and out onto busy Kenelm Road.
A black cab was cruising past and, hailing it, she pulled open the door and jumped in, breathing hard, her heart racing.
‘Where to, lady?’
‘Sixteen Usher Street.’
Sinking back, drenched in perspiration, she glanced in the direction of the park. There was no sign of pursuit and, starting to tremble in every limb, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. She’d escaped.
But for how long?
Ryan knew all about her. Where she worked, where she lived, her movements… He had said he wanted her back, and he wasn’t a man to give up.
Just seeing him again had shaken her to the core, but the knowledge that he wanted her back had been even more traumatic.
It had been so entirely unexpected. Never once had she considered the possibility that he might want her back again.
It was unthinkable. The very idea made her blood turn to ice in her veins. All he wanted was revenge. He didn’t even love her.
If he’d loved her, it might have been different…
But if he’d loved her she would never have left him in the first place…
Her hectic thoughts were interrupted by the taxi turning into Usher Street and coming to a halt in front of number sixteen.
It was a quiet street of cream-stuccoed town houses with basements guarded by black wrought-iron railings, and steps leading up to elegant front doors with fluted fanlights.
Charles had inherited the house from his parents, some five years previously. A confirmed bachelor, at least until Virginia had come along, he’d talked about moving somewhere smaller, easier to manage. But in truth he was comfortable there, and it was reasonably close to the gallery.
Recalling agitatedly what Ryan had said about his detective following her, Virginia suddenly felt uncomfortable.
She scrambled out of the taxi and, having reached through the window to pay the driver, ran up the steps to let herself in.
Feeling invisible eyes boring into her back, her palms grew clammy, and pointing the truth of the saying, more haste less speed, it took several attempts to turn the key in the lock.
Her heart throwing itself against her ribs, she dropped the key into her purse, slammed the door behind her, and hurried through the hall and into a large attractively furnished living-room with long windows.
Dropping her bag on the couch she crossed the room and peered cautiously from behind the curtains, half expecting to see a strange man opposite, lurking behind a newspaper.
Apart from a woman walking past whom she recognised as a neighbour, the sunny, tree-lined street was deserted.
With a feeling of anticlimax, Virginia told herself satirically that she was either getting paranoid, or had been watching too many detective series on the television.
But her attempt to josh herself out of it failed dismally. The threat to her new-found security was chillingly real and couldn’t be laughed away.
Becoming aware that her head was now throbbing fiercely, she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and swallow a couple of painkillers.
Then, uncomfortably hot and sticky, she decided to have a shower and wash her hair. Physically, at least, that should make her feel better.
She stripped off her clothes and, removing the pins from her hair, shook it loose before stepping beneath the jet of warm water.
As she reached for the shampoo, she found herself wondering about Ryan. He must have been saturated…
Had he walked back to his hotel? Or braved it out and hailed a taxi? Was he at this precise minute also taking a shower?