Not a Marrying Man

‘We’re all worried about you, Amber, living with that heartless man. Kate was especially worried. I have a suspicion she knew she didn’t have long to live, and changed her will in your favour to throw you a lifeline, so to speak. At least you’ll have a home and a job when that man’s finished with you. Which, if he runs true to form, will be any day now.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Amber threw at her mother before she could think better of it.

‘That’s where you’re wrong, dear. I know quite a lot about Warwick Kincaid and none of it’s very complimentary. He might be successful in his business dealings, but his personal life is another matter. It’s a case of like father, like son.’

‘Meaning?’

‘His father was a notorious womaniser who hung himself after losing millions at a casino, according to the inquest.’

Amber was truly shocked. Warwick had told her that his father had died unexpectedly at fifty-one, but she’d just assumed it was from a heart attack or a stroke. He’d said nothing about suicide.

‘His wife divorced him soon after their only child was born,’ her mother rattled on, ‘the price of her freedom being that she had to give up custody of her son. At the time, James Kincaid was one of the richest bankers in England with lots of power and influence. It’s all there to read on the Internet if you ever want to look it up.’

‘I don’t have to, Mum. I know all about Warwick’s family background.’ Which was an exaggeration of the highest order. Warwick was a man who lived in the here and now. He rarely talked about his past life. Neither did he ask her about hers. He’d told her a few brief details just before Christmas last year when she’d enquired about his family. She did know about the divorce and that his mother—from whom Warwick remained estranged—was an actress of sorts. She knew his mother had never remarried, so he didn’t have any half-brothers or -sisters. She knew nothing of his father’s womanising, or his suicide.

‘Then you must know that your boyfriend’s a womaniser as well,’ her mother swept on waspishly. ‘With a mistress left behind in every country he’s lived in. It’s a different country each year: France, Spain, Italy, Turkey, Egypt, India, China, Vietnam … And now Australia. Next year he’ll probably hop over to New Zealand, then on to the Americas. He’s an adventurer, Amber. And a gambler, just like his father. Maybe not at cards or roulette, but with his life. He does dangerous things.’

‘Yes, I do know that, Mum,’ Amber said ruefully. Bungee-jumping and heli-skiing weren’t her lover’s only thrill-seeking activities. Warwick liked to drive fast cars and boats. He liked everything that smacked of speed and risk. ‘Please, can we stop this conversation right now? You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.’ Okay, so she hadn’t known the detailed itinerary of his past love life, but she’d been warned about his womanising reputation right from the start, both by Jill and Warwick himself.

‘And still, you stay with him,’ her mother said with incredulity in her voice.

‘I love him, Mum.’

It was the first time Amber had said the words out loud to anyone other than herself.

‘I very much doubt it,’ her mother snapped. ‘You’re just infatuated with his looks and his lifestyle.’

‘You’re wrong, Mum. I do love him,’ Amber insisted hotly. ‘And I won’t leave him. Not unless he asks me to.’

Her mother sighed. ‘There’s nothing more to be said on that subject, then. So what are you going to do about Kate’s place? You can’t just leave it empty indefinitely. You’ll have to do something with it.’

‘Could I rent it out, do you think? I mean … as a holiday house?’ She didn’t want to sell it. Not straight away.

‘I suppose so. But you’ll have to find yourself a reliable agent. And soon. Your father went up there last weekend and mowed the lawns and watered the garden but you can’t expect him to keep on doing that. The place is your responsibility now.’

Amber’s heart jumped when she heard the familiar sound of the front door being opened. Warwick was home at last. Thank heavens! She was beginning to worry that he might have had an accident.

‘Mum, I’m sorry, but I have to go now. I’ll come over tomorrow and pick up the keys. Will you be home?’

‘Yes. But only till twelve. I have a hairdressing appointment at twelve-thirty.’

‘I’ll be there before then. Bye.’

Amber tossed the phone back down on the granite counter-top and hurried out of the kitchen, her heart thudding behind her ribs in a maddening mixture of excitement and annoyance.

Just the sight of him tipped her emotions more towards excitement. Warwick was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen, with a strongly masculine face, a well-shaped head, sexy blue eyes, and an even sexier mouth. Combine that with a body to die for and an English accent that could cut glass and you had a man who’d give James Bond a run for his money. In fact, he would make an excellent James Bond in Amber’s opinion, his suave man-about-town fa?ade hiding a ruthless inner core. He wasn’t totally heartless, as her mother had said. But he was extremely formidable.

It took courage to confront Warwick with anything, even his tardiness. Normally, Amber forgave his tendency to be late for things.

But not this time.

‘Where on earth have you been?’ she demanded to know. ‘You knew I was cooking a special dinner for us tonight. Why didn’t you call me? I left enough messages on that damned phone of yours!’

CHAPTER TWO

WARWICK closed the front door behind him, slipping the security chain into place before turning his attention back to his understandably upset girlfriend.

How exquisitely beautiful she looked in that glorious pink dress! Beautiful and desirable. Not that it was a sexy garment, by any means. There was no provocative dеcolletage on display. The neckline was modestly scooped, and the simple flowing style skimmed rather than clung to her curves, the handkerchief hemline reaching down past her knees.

But never before had a girl turned Warwick on the way Amber could—so damned effortlessly. She didn’t have to flirt, or do any of the boldly seductive things his previous women had done. She only had to be in the same room and his hormones jumped to attention.

Suddenly, Warwick wasn’t sure if he could continue with the plan he’d started putting into action recently, the one where he showed himself to be the ruthless man he actually was. Much easier to give up on that idea—however perversely noble it was—apologise profusely for being late and do what his body was urging him to do: ravish her all night long.

The temptation was powerful. But so—as Warwick kept discovering to his surprise—was his conscience. For some time now it had troubled him deeply. Thanks to that wretched aunt of Amber’s.

Of course, he himself had known right from the start that it had been wrong to take a girl like Amber to his bed. She’d been too young, too sweet and too sensitive.

But he just hadn’t been able to resist her. The chemistry between them had been electric, right from the first moment they’d set eyes on each other.

Just one night, he’d told himself at the time. To see how it would feel to make love to someone wholesome. Someone who blushed when you looked deep into her eyes; someone whose attraction for him shocked her enough to make her resign.

Well, he’d found out what it was like and, come the next morning, he hadn’t been able to let her go.

But now the time had come for him to do so.

Time to be cruel to be kind.

‘Please don’t start sounding like a wife, Amber,’ he said coldly as he strode into the room, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt as he headed for the built-in bar in the corner. ‘I texted you that I’d be late,’ he threw at her after selecting a glass and reaching for the whisky decanter. ‘For pity’s sake, woman, don’t nag.’

‘I … I don’t think it’s nagging to demand politeness,’ she returned in a small, almost crushed voice.

He should not have glanced up at her, not then. Not when her soft blue eyes looked so wounded.

Hell on earth, he couldn’t do this. Not tonight. That would be just too cruel.

‘You’re right,’ he said more gently. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. I’m a bit wound up. Had to sort out a few problems with one of the building contractors. That’s who I was with all this time,’ he lied. He’d actually been sitting in a bar in town all by himself, nursing a whisky for two long hours till he was rudely late. ‘What say I go shower and change into something more comfortable whilst you rustle up dinner?’ he suggested. ‘It’s not spoiled, is it?’

‘No.’ Immediately, her dulled eyes glowed with happiness, sending a dagger of guilt plunging into his own wretchedly dark heart.

Oh, Warwick, Warwick, he thought almost despairingly. How are you going to get yourself out of this mess? The girl loves you. Can’t you see that?

Yes, of course I can see it, came a frustrated voice from within.

It wasn’t the first time this realisation had jumped into Warwick’s head. That day he’d gone bunjee-jumping, for instance, when the damned rope had gone awry and he hadn’t been killed. More was the pity. Amber’s feelings had been written all over her face. She’d been trembling with shock and relief when he was brought back up, unharmed.

Unfortunately, being loved the way Amber loved him—with such sweet sincerity—was as powerful as the most addictive drug. Giving up the way she made him feel was going to take a massive act of will, one that Warwick didn’t think he was capable of this evening. Knowing she wanted him to make love to her after dinner was weakening his resolve to end their relationship.

Maybe it was time to tell her the truth about himself, to force Amber to face the fact that there was no future with him.