Название | His Pretend Wife |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Lucy Gordon |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472080004 |
‘Dunno,’ she replied truthfully. ‘It’s a party.’
‘So because it’s a party you have to pour filthy rubbish down your throat and make a fool of yourself?’ he said scathingly.
‘Who are you calling a fool?’
‘You, because you act like one.’
‘Push off,’ she said belligerently. The scene wasn’t going at all as it should. ‘I can take care of myself.’
‘Oh, yeah!’ he said, not even trying to be polite. ‘I’ve seen children who can take better care of themselves than you. Come on.’
He’d taken a firm hold of her, but not in the way that other young men tried to. More like a man clearing out the rubbish. Ellie found herself being propelled firmly to the door.
‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ she demanded.
‘Taking you home.’
‘I don’t want to go home.’ She tried to struggle but he had his hand firmly around her waist. ‘Let go!’
‘Don’t waste your energy,’ he advised her kindly. ‘I’m a lot stronger than you.’
‘Help!’ she yelled. ‘Abduction! Kidnap! Help!’
That made them sit up, she was glad to see. Heads turned. Pete appeared, blocking their path.
‘Where are you taking my girl?’ he said belligerently.
‘Who said I was your girl?’ she demanded, briefly diverted. ‘I never—’
‘Shut up, the pair of you,’ Andrew said without heat. ‘She’s not your girl because you don’t know how to look after her. And you—’ he tightened his grip on Ellie as she tried to make a bolt for it ‘—you aren’t old enough to be anybody’s girl. You’re just a daft little kid who puts on fancy clothes and her mother’s make-up and thinks she’s grown up. Now, let’s get out of here.’
‘I don’t want to get out of here.’
‘Did I ask what you wanted?’ he enquired indifferently.
‘You’ll be sorry you did this.’
‘Not half as sorry as you’ll be if I don’t.’
She redoubled her efforts to escape, but he simply lifted her off the floor and left her kicking helplessly as he pushed Pete aside and strode on. Her head was swimming from the cider and her limbs were growing heavy, but through the gathering mist of tipsiness she could see her friends sniggering at her plight.
But then—relief! Johnny appeared, also trying to block their path.
‘Put her down,’ he said. ‘She’s my girl.’
‘Another one?’ Andrew said ironically. ‘Listen, Johnny, I’ll deal with you later. Just now I’m taking Ellie home where she’ll be safe. What’s her address, by the way?’
‘Don’t tell him,’ she raged.
But Johnny had seen his elder brother’s face and decided on discretion. He gave Andrew the information with a meekness that made Ellie disgusted with him. Before she could tell him so she found she was being carried out of the room. As the door swung to she was sure she could hear a burst of laughter, and it increased her rage.
Outside the house stood the most disgusting old van she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe he actually meant her to travel in that, but he was opening the door and shovelling her into the passenger seat. Shovelling was the only word for it. She immediately tried to break out and he slammed the door shut again.
‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,’ he said through the half-open window. ‘The easy way is for you to sit here quietly. The hard way is for me to chuck you in the back, lock the rear doors and keep you there until we reach the other end.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
He grinned. ‘Even you’re not stupid enough to believe that.’
‘Whaddaya mean? Even me?’
‘Work it out.’
As he went around to the driver’s seat she sat in sullen silence, partly because she knew he meant what he said, and partly because it was becoming hard to move. She leant her head against the back of the seat, just for a moment.
CHAPTER TWO
‘ARE you all right, darling?’ Mrs Foster’s face came into focus.
‘Mum? What—?’
Somehow the van had turned into her own bed in her own room. Her head was throbbing and her mother was smiling at her anxiously.
‘How did I—? Oh, goodness!’
She bounded out of bed and just reached the bathroom before the storm broke. When it was over and she was feeling a little better she noticed something for the first time.
She was wearing only a bra and panties. They were peach-coloured, flimsy lace, and might as well not have existed for all they concealed. Her golden dress and her tights had been removed.
When? Where? How?
She made her way carefully back to her room, and mercifully her mother was there with strong tea.
‘Did you have too much to drink last night, dear? Andrew said you’d come over faint and asked him to bring you home, but I couldn’t help wondering—well, not to worry. I could see he’s a really nice young man.’
Oh, sure, he’s a nice young man. He stripped me almost naked while I was unconscious. And he had the unspeakable nerve to hang my dress up neatly on a hanger.
It was there, on the wardrobe, hung and straightened by skilled hands. Its very perfection was an outrage.
‘What did he tell you?’ she mumbled into her tea.
‘He brought you home, and when you got here you went straight to bed, and he sat downstairs waiting for us so that he could explain that you were already here, and we needn’t wait up.’
‘He’s Johnny’s elder brother.’
‘He told us. Apparently he’s a doctor. I always thought you liked young men to be a bit more colourful than that.’
‘He’s not a boyfriend. I only met him last night.’
‘But he’s the one you turned to when you needed help, so he must have made a big impression on you.’
‘He did that, all right,’ she muttered.
‘It’s nice to know that you’re getting so discerning now you’re growing up.’
That was the final insult. ‘Mum!’
‘What, dear?’
‘I’m seventeen. It’ll be years before I’m interested in a boring doctor. He just happened to have a car.’
‘You mean that revolting van? You must be really smitten if you liked him for that.’
‘I’m not feeling well,’ she said hastily. ‘I think I’ll go back to sleep.’
Her mother tactfully left her and Ellie snuggled down, feeling like a wrung-out rag. As she drifted off she remembered the stranger who’d tried to drag her away. She might have passed out with him instead of with Andrew, and instinct told her that he wouldn’t have simply brought her home and put her to bed.
Try as she might she couldn’t recall Andrew removing her clothes and putting her to bed. He was rude and insufferable, but he’d saved her from a nasty fate. What was more, he’d seen her almost naked, which none of her boyfriends had. It was maddening to think that he might have looked at her with admiration, and she hadn’t