An Old Enchantment. AMANDA BROWNING

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Название An Old Enchantment
Автор произведения AMANDA BROWNING
Жанр Современные любовные романы
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Издательство Современные любовные романы
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shown signs of a violent temper, was suspected of taking drugs, and was rumoured to carve a notch on his bedpost for every new conquest.

      Her worst fears realised, Maxi had done her best to persuade Fliss to break off with him, but Fliss had absolutely refused to believe anything against him. Colin wasn’t like that. Maxi was only jealous because she, Fliss, had taken away one of her admirers. The argument that had followed was destructive, and Fliss’s wilfulness shocked Maxi. She had never realised quite how jealous and inferior her sister had felt. Maxi had never been vain of her beauty, nor of the way men had always run after her, but it had been salt in the wound for Fliss. Now, having at last put one over on her sister, Fliss had been determined not to lose her victory.

      When a discreet visit to the police had failed, because there was nothing they could do, no charge they could bring, she had seen only one thing to do. She had to stop the marriage, and there was only one sure way of doing it and making sure that Fliss fell out of love with Colin at the same time. With no help to be gained from outside, she had had to rely on herself. Her sister’s happiness meant more to her than her own, and, though she knew Fliss would hate her for what she was about to do, she had hoped that in time she would come to understand and forgive her.

      So she had set out deliberately to lure Colin away. He had responded to her flirting and teasing with alacrity, because he understood what it meant. Maxi felt nothing but disgust for him, but had discovered an unsuspected talent for acting. To universal condemnation, she had refused to stop, although pretty soon she was the talk of the neighbourhood. She had steeled herself to ignore Fliss’s tears, her father’s angry disapproval and her mother’s anxiety and confusion. The only way was to carry on regardless, even though it had broken her heart to see the way she was hurting the people she loved best in the world.

      Unfortunately, her plan had had two parts, one to get Colin away from Fliss, then to free herself. The first part had worked easily, but not the second. Colin had refused to let her out of his sight until she married him. She had thought of running away, but he had told her the threat to her sister hadn’t vanished, and wouldn’t until the wedding. She had known herself to be trapped, but she hadn’t knuckled under, even though less than a week after her sister’s eighteenth birthday the pair of them had gone to America together and were married.

      Maxi shuddered and drained the last drops of now cold tea from her cup. Some marriages were made in heaven, but hers had not been, and it had proved impossible to walk away unscathed from that kind of marriage. The scars might not show, but they were there, and she had vowed to herself that she would rather spend the rest of her life alone than ever risk adding to them.

      One thing alone cheered her: she might be scarred, but she had had her victory too. More than that, the proof of how right she had been to do what she had was in this engagement. Fliss had achieved the happiness she had always wanted for her. And that put a smile on her lips as she closed her eyes.

      CHAPTER THREE

      AT SEVEN-THIRTY that evening, Maxi descended to the ground floor and made her way to the lounge. She had dressed with care out of sheer habit, although the prospect of the evening to come would have made her don any armour she possessed. All she had was her make-up and the manufactured smile that any good model soon learnt to project. Fortunately clothes were never a problem. Unprepared as she was for the celebration, it was still second nature to pack at least one good dress in her case.

      There was a certain unintentional amusement in the fact that the said dress happened to be scarlet. Freud would probably have had a field day, but the truth was that it was her latest buy. The fitted bodice needed no straps and clung lovingly to a bust that was a little fuller than was usual in a model. The skirt was full, ending a couple of inches above her knees. Around her neck she wore a simple gold rope and on her feet were moderate stilettos in the same shade of red.

      Feeling that she at least looked ready for anything, she braced herself to meet the family. Walking through the door, however, she found only one person there, and that a most unwelcome one. Kerr turned from the painting he had been studying and ran a lazy eye over her. Normally that would have irritated her, but his appearance was such a surprise that she found herself doing the same.

      Tonight he was dressed formally in a black dinner suit, complete with bow-tie and cummerbund. The change was startling, as her senses registered instantly. The raw power he had exhibited in casual dress was now leashed, and all the more potent for it. This man is dangerous, was the message her brain received. Not in any life-threatening way—this went deeper, to the core of her, by far more subversive means, and, as if recognising a potentially superior foe, her defences rose instantly.

      ‘Are we to assume you’re playing the scarlet woman tonight?’ Kerr enquired sardonically, raising his eyes to hers, and there it was again, that infinitesimal moment of pure rage. Instantly masked, it was replaced by a gleam that raised the fine hairs on her flesh, causing her to shiver.

      Not liking at all the wilful way her senses were reacting to him in spite of her volition, she produced an insouciant smile. ‘Why not? Everyone will be thinking it, so why disappoint the public?’ she quipped, turning away from him and wandering to the open terrace doors, because once again she was suddenly finding it necessary to have air. Nerves, she told herself irritably, and faced him again. ‘What are you doing here?’

      He grinned. ‘The way you say that, I get the impression I’m not wanted. But you know what they say—you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your relations.’

      Maxi widened her eyes. ‘But we aren’t related,’ she pointed out with a certain satisfaction—something she knew he’d noted by the way his grey eyes gleamed.

      ‘Yet,’ he reminded her succinctly, and indicated the tray of drinks on the sideboard. ‘Can I get you something?’

      Deciding she’d feel more comfortable if her hands had something to do, Maxi nodded. ‘I’ll have a Baileys, thanks.’

      Pouring her one, and a whisky for himself, he came to join her. ‘You don’t have to watch your diet?’

      ‘Thankfully not.’ Taking the glass, she couldn’t help but touch him, and felt a frisson of electricity shimmer up her arm. She only just managed to hold back a gasp of pure shock. It was peculiar how the silence which fell then made her tense up, although it was barely measurable. Feeling unnaturally gauche, she knew she had to break it, and hastily cleared her throat. ‘I’ve been trying to remember Andy at school, but I can’t.’

      Of course, she had to look at him then, and there was a faint smile hovering about his lips, almost as if he knew exactly how she had been feeling—a realisation calculated to bring warmth to her cheeks, although she refused to look away.

      ‘That’s not surprising. He wasn’t the handsome devil he is now. He had glasses in those days, a jacket that was too big for him, and permanently grazed knees.’

      His description brought his brother to life so clearly that Maxi gave a gurgling laugh. ‘Now I remember. He used to call me “Beanpole”, and I used to hit him.’

      Kerr’s smile was wiped from his face. ‘So he told me. He remembered you all right. Apparently he had quite a crush on you at one time,’ he said flatly.

      Maxi sobered instantly. ‘Don’t blame me for that. All children have crushes. Even you.’

      ‘I’ll admit to a certain salacious interest in my old gym mistress. She was a large lady, as I recall. But as I got older, my tastes changed. In fact, I tend towards women closer to my own height—like you,’ he finished softly, and took malicious delight in the way her colour fluctuated wildly.

      ‘You’re joking!’ The thought made her stomach lurch painfully, but not, she was ashamed to admit, from fear.

      ‘As it happens, I’m not. But don’t worry, I also feel a need to respect the women I take out, so you fail on at least one count.’ He waited until he was sure the hit had gone home before continuing. ‘No, what worries me right now is the thought that there might be some lingering