DECEIT OF A PAGAN Read online

  She forced a smile on her face as she heard Lucy approaching with Keri. She and Leon had tried to keep their antipathy from everyone but themselves, acting as much like a normal married couple in front of others as they were able to, although this proved difficult at times. And this was one of those times.

  Lucy came in, all smiles, holding Keri who was chuckling happily as usual. Dressed in her tiny bathing costume, plus diaper, and a flowered sun hat, she was all ready to go down to the beach.

  'Hello, darling!' Templar took the willing Keri into her arms. 'It looks as if we'll have to go down on our own, poppet, Daddy's gone out today.'

  'Oh.' Lucy looked uncertain. 'Would you—would you like me to come down with you?'

  'No. It's your day off. You're going into the village, aren't you?'

  'Just to have a look around,' Lucy shrugged. ‘I can

  put it off if you would rather I '

  'Certainly not.' Templar chucked Keri under the chin. 'We can manage on our own for one day, you take your day off. This is partly your holiday too.'

  'Well... if you're sure?'

  'I'm sure. And thank you for getting Keri ready.'

  It was already warm on the beach, and she placed Keri on the spread blanket before sitting down herself. It was a beautiful beach, totally private, with none of the noise and chatter one usually associated with a holiday beach. But then this was no ordinary holiday beach, this was owned and used exclusively by Leon's family or guests.

  Templar watched Keri playing for several long minutes, conscious of how happy and less fretful her niece had become. Leon had erected a make-do play­pen for Keri on the beach and they usually put her in there while they swam, which she did now. Keri didn't mind the playpen at all, and as it was over an hour since she had eaten her little piece of breakfast she thought it quite safe for her to swim.

  Templar lay on her back lazing in the clear blue water, gazing at the completely cloudless sky above her. She was missing Leon today, strange, but true. They had been together so much the last few days that she had come to expect it, desire his company even. But where was her pride, that stiff-necked independence that had taken her through so much in the past year? It appeared that she was slowly losing the desire to be independent, that she in fact enjoying relying on Leon. Somehow it had happened without her being aware of it.

  Something touched her ankle, breaking her mood and throwing her into a confused panic. She came up spluttering, her hair plastered to her forehead, and glared furiously into a pair of laughing brown eyes. 'Just what do you think you're doing?' she demanded angrily.

  The man trod water beside her, grinning widely. 'Until a few seconds ago I was swimming along quite happily, and then this mermaid with glorious red hair wandered into my view. Of course, I had to investigate.'

  'Oh, of course. But what do you mean by startling me like that? You frightened the life out of me!' She was still trying to get some of the strands of hair out of her eyes.

  He looked at her reproachfully. 'It wasn't exactly my fault. I did speak to you first, but you didn't seem to hear me.'

  'Oh.' She grudgingly admitted that he was a nice-looking man, of about thirty. Out of the water he was probably quite tall, at least six foot, she would say. He had the over-long styled hair that was fashionable nowadays, good-looking features, even white teeth, and a tanned muscled body. 'And what are you doing here?'

  'Here precisely, or here France?'

  'Here precisely,' she smiled reluctantly.

  He laughed. 'Would you believe, swimming?'

  Templar looked about them impatiently. 'Look, can we go back to the beach? I have a feeling my baby might be getting fretful.'

  'Sure.'

  Once ashore she towelled her hair dry, offering the

  stranger her spare towel, which he gratefully accepted.

  Keri had fallen asleep in the bottom of the playpen and

  wasn't fretful at all. .

  'I'm Neil Adams, by the way.' He slumped down on to the golden sand beside her.

  'Templar Marcose,' she supplied self-consciously, still not quite sure of her newly acquired surname.

  'That's a nice baby you have there.'

  'Thank you, I think so too.'

  'And so does your husband. I've seen him from a distance playing with her a couple of times.' His eyes narrowed in the glare of the sun.

  'My husband?' she questioned sharply. 'When did you see him?'

  'The last couple of days. I've seen all three of you together on the beach. Your husband isn't with you today?' He laid the damp towel out in the sun to dry.

  She averted her eyes. 'Not today.'

  Neil Adams was watching her closely. 'I feel I should know you,' he remarked quizzically. 'And that isn't a line, I genuinely believe I should recognise you.'

  Templar knew it wasn't a line because she had had the same feeling about him for the last couple of min­utes. Everything about him seemed familiar. ‘Do you live in London?' she asked.

  He shook his head. 'I live here. But London used to be my home. I have the next villa up the coast to this one, that's why I've seen so much of you.' His brow cleared suddenly. 'Templar!' he burst out. 'Of course, Templar Newman! I wondered what had happened to you. I'm a photographer,' he explained, 'and a couple of months ago I decided I wanted you for one of my assignments. I called round all the agencies, but all they could tell me was that you were no longer on their books.'

  'I've given up modelling,' she said quietly.

  'So I gathered. But isn't it strange that you were just a few minutes away from me all the time?'

  'I doubt if I was at the time.' She rubbed oil into her sensitive skin. 'We've only been here a week.' She looked at him sharply. 'When you say Neil Adams, do you mean the Neil Adams?'

  'Depends what you mean by the? he said bashfully.

  'The famous and exclusive photographer.'

  'I suppose I could be,' he admitted.

  Templar's eyes glowed. 'There's no suppose about it, it is you. And you wanted me for some photographs?'

  'I still do. Only you have the exact colour hair that I wanted for some sunset pictures I intend taking. I don't suppose you would consider coming out of retire­ment for a few days?'

  She shook her head, well aware of Leon's opinion on that. 'I'm afraid not. But there must be plenty of models about with my colour hair, I can't believe it's unique.'

  'It isn't, if I wanted it out of a bottle. I don't. I would stake my reputation on your hair being natural.'

  'It is,' she admitted blushingly.

  'It's a damned shame you're out of circulation, you're just what I wanted.' He looked disappointed.

  'Well, I can't say I'm not flattered. I mean, you're Neil Adams! It would have been the height of my career to be photographed by you.' Templar couldn't hide her disappointment. Once photographed by this man she would have been made careerwise.

  'Wouldn't your husband let you do just this one assignment? If I can't use you I'm going to scrap the idea.' He sat up, watching her closely.

  Templar looked regretful. 'Leon doesn't approve of working wives.'

  Neil frowned. 'Leon? You're married to Leon Marcose?'

  'Do you know him?'

  He shrugged. 'Not exactly know him, we've met a couple of times, that's all. I knew his brother better.'

  'Alex?' she asked sharply, still much too sensitive where Keri's father was concerned. 'You knew Alex?'

  'Mm,' he narrowed his eyes as he looked out to sea. 'I was sorry to hear of his death. I should think Leon was devastated, they were very close.'

  'Yes,' she agreed quietly.

  Neil turned to smile gently at her. 'At least he had you to help him through it all. There's nothing worse than being on your own when something like that hap­pens.'

  'Oh, I wasn't married to Leon at the time,' she answered without thinking.

  She inwardly cringed as she saw him look from year-old Keri and back to herself, making a quick calcula­tion and coming t
o the wrong conclusion. 'I see.' He looked embarrassed. 'Well, at least he has you now.'

  'It isn't what you think, you know,' she began. 'I

  wish I could explain, but-'

  'You don't have to explain anything to me. Why should I care when the two of you got married, it's none of my business. Are you here on holiday?' he changed the subject.

  'For a couple of weeks, although it seems that Leon also has some business to take care of too.' And after saying he wouldn't be working!

  Neil stood up. 'I must say I didn't even recognise him, but then I only saw him from out there,' he in­dicated the sea. 'Perhaps I can see you tomorrow? I have to get back to the villa right now, I have guests staying. Is it all right if I drop over tomorrow?'

  She looked up at him. 'I suppose so, but I-' she hesitated about explaining her uncertainty.

  He grinned down at her. 'Don't worry, Templar. I know I've only met Leon a couple of times, but I think it was enough to tell me what sort of a husband he would make. And looking at you I wouldn't blame him.'

  'Thank you. And thank you for understanding. It's just that Leon wouldn't tike to think of me meeting you like this. He's very possessive.' Suspicious was the word she would have liked to have used. Leon was suspicious of her every move.

  'Right. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

  'That would be lovely.' She watched regretfully as he entered the sea again and set out towards his home with firm even strokes.

  She wasn't given much time to dwell on her new acquaintance or think what it would have meant for her to be photographed by the famous Neil Adams, for at that moment Keri woke up and made it impossible for her to think of anything but her. She soon stopped crying, but after that decided she wanted to paddle in the shallow water.

  Consequently Templar didn't even get a moment to herself until she was changing for dinner. Keri was fast asleep in the room that had been converted into a nursery for her, after an uproarious bathtime, and Lucy was keeping an ear cocked in case she stirred, not that she very often did nowadays. As far as Templar was aware Leon hadn't yet returned from his business meet­ing, but she changed for dinner anyway.

  She had finished dinner and was having coffee in the lounge when he returned. She made an effort to look cool, although she had been quite worried about him. She watched below lowered lids as he poured himself a whisky and came to stand in front of the sofa she was sitting on.

  'Good evening,' came his stiff greeting.

  'I've already eaten,' she replied coolly, ignoring the social pleasantries.

  'So have I, I ate in town.' He sipped his whisky.

  'Really? Didn't it occur to you to let me know? I had no idea you didn't intend returning for dinner.'

  'Neither did I. The—business meeting went on for longer than I intended.'

  Her look sharpened at his hesitation. 'Really?'

  His glass landed on the coffee-table with a crash and she was surprised it showed no signs of breakage. She looked up to meet the angry glitter of steely grey eyes. 'What are you implying now? That I have not been to a business meeting? That I have perhaps been seeing another woman?'

  Templar was taken aback by his attack. He was cer­tainly angry, but he looked very attractive in his anger. He wasn't dressed for a business meeting, the dazzling white shirt and trousers emphasising the darkness of his skin, his hair brushed back casually so that a few strands lay over his forehead. His lips were pressed to­gether angrily and there were fine lines either side of that firm mouth and nose, his grey-blue eyes narrowed furiously.

  'Well, I——' she began uncertainly.

  He picked up the glass and drank the remaining whisky in one gulp. 'You sound like a jealous wife— my wife!'

  She stood up, as angry as he now. 'I'm not jealous, Leon. I wasn't anything until you came in. What on earth's the matter with you that you come home in this mood?'

  'There is nothing wrong with me that a little less suspicion on your part would not cure.'

  'I wasn't suspicious!' She felt like stamping her foot childishly in anger. 'But I am now,' she amended. 'Why are you on the defensive?'

  'I am not!' He marched purposefully towards the door. 'I am going to my bedroom.'

  'But, Leon, it's only early yet. And I haven't seen you all day,* she pouted sulkily.

  'I have some business papers to sort through,' he said haughtily.

  'I thought you said you wouldn't be working on this holiday,' she reminded him.

  'I did not think I would be, but these things turn up unexpectedly. I will be out tomorrow too,' he informed her.

  'Oh, Leon!' Her disappointment was obvious. 'Do you have to?'

  The look in his eyes could only be described as one of torment. He wrenched open the door. 'I have to.' He closed the door quietly behind him.

  Templar was left staring at the closed door. It was only nine-thirty, what could she do for the rest of the evening? What was there for her to do but go to her room and either read a book or go to bed, which she did unwillingly. Some holiday this was turning out to be!

  She read until almost eleven o'clock, finally putting the book down with a sigh. It was a romance and only reminded her of what she hadn't got herself. Leon was acting more unreachable than ever. The new aware­ness that had sprung up between them wasn't helping either, because no matter how much he denied it, Leon was very much aware of her as a woman. And she was aware of him with every atom of her being, aware of his lean muscular body, of his eyes that could be deeply blue with passion, passion she had aroused in him, of the sensuality of his full lower lip, she was just aware of everything about him. He had only to walk into a room and she felt the electricity of him.

  All this was some admission coming from the one person who should hate and despise him. And it was an admission she didn't want to probe too deeply.

  She sat propped up against the fluffed-up pillows, biting her lower lip thoughtfully, the only illumination in the room coming from her bedside lamp which she was as yet too lazy to turn out. Besides, she wasn't even remotely tired—how could she be when she had done nothing all day except sit back and take it easy? Keri was very well cared for and didn't really need her twenty-four hours a day any more, which left her with a lot of free time on her hands, free time which Leon didn't seem willing to help her occupy. If only——

  She turned sharply as she heard her bedroom door open and close, searching the shadows for her noc­turnal visitor. 'Lucy?' She sat up worriedly.

  'No,' came the taut reply. 'It is not Lucy.' Leon moved into the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a silk dressing-gown worn over black pyjama trousers, the bareness of his chest pointing to him not wearing the matching jacket. It was so hot here that Templar was surprised he wore anything at all. But perhaps he didn't in the privacy of his own room.

  She should have realised it was Leon, he had entered through the communicating door and not the corridor door. It was just that she had never thought he would come into her room like this.

  She was very conscious of her limited attire, the thin silk nightdress outlining her firm uptilted breasts. She sank beneath the sheet, although this being silk too really didn't afford her much protection. She looked longingly down at the blanket folded neatly at the bot­tom of the bed, wishing now that she hadn't felt hof enough to remove it.

  'Leon,' she said huskily, gulping nervously.

  His eyes gleamed mockingly. 'Obviously.' His face sobered. 'I have come to apologise.'

  'A—apologise?' She looked at him apprehensively.

  'For my churlish behaviour earlier. I should not have taken out my anger on you, you had done nothing wrong.' He looked haughty, and not in the least repent­ant.

  It felt very strange to be talking to him like this in the intimacy of her bedroom, and yet he had a perfect right to be here. He was her husband, and a husband was perfectly within his rights to visit his wife's bed­room.

  She shrugged now. 'You were angry about some­thing. Who better than me to vent your an
ger on?'

  Leon smiled slightly, a softening of his harsh features that was totally unexpected. 'If you are trying to make me feel guilty I think it only fair to tell you that you have succeeded.'

  Templar felt some of the tension begin to leave her body. 'I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. I just wanted you to know that I understood your wish to strike out at someone. I'm the obvious person, as you would be in my case.'

  He was watching her closely. 'You can be so serious for one so young,' he remarked calmly. 'I forget at times just how young you are. You always appear cool and composed, always perfectly groomed in every way.'

  She put up a rueful hand to her ruffled auburn hair, conscious of her face completely free of make-up. 'Not right now I'm not,' she said shyly.

  His eyes widened as he looked at her. 'You appear no less beautiful,' his voice was deep and husky. He moved closer to her. 'You are very attractive, Templar—too. attractive for my peace of mind. How am I supposed to sleep with you in bed in the next room to mine?' The last came out in a groan. He came to sit on the bed, one hand moving up to caress her creamy cheek. 'Like a flame you draw me ever so close, like a child I fall for your fascination, uncaring if I get burnt.'

  Templar reacted to the tremor of his voice, her body feeling like an aching void that needed Leon's posses­sion of her to make her complete. It was as if the last five days had never been, as if they were once again on the beach, their bodies drawn together despite the fevered dictates of their brains. She made an involun­tary move towards him and that was their undoing.

  Her capitulation was all Leon needed to make him lose control, his arms reaching out to pull her against the hardness of his muscular chest. For long agonising moments he gazed into her passion-filled eyes, until at last, with a deep shuddering groan, he moved down to possess her lips.

  He had never kissed her before and Templar wasn't quite sure what it would be like. But as could be ex­pected, Leon took complete control, gently prising her lips apart with the tip of his tongue, the kiss deepening, the feelings he aroused in her almost too much to bear.