Foolish Deceiver Read online

  FOOLISH DECEIVER

  Sandra K Rhoades

  Allie knew blondes didn't have more fun

  She'd spent so much of her life working on high-powered scientific projects that she didn't have much time for play. And perhaps it was hardly surprising that her first love affair ended in disaster..

  With her confidence badly shaken, spending the summer with her friend Claire seemed like a good idea. Until Linc Summerville came on the scene.

  Arrogant, but undeniably attractive, he disliked Allie on sight. And the feeling was mutual. So why should Allie care that he believed she really was a dumb blonde?

  To Susan Bates, with many thanks for all her help and advice.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lost in thought, Allie Smith didn't notice the slowing of the car until it had nearly come to a halt.

  Consequently, it was too late for her to steer it to the side of the road and it stalled in the traffic lane. Fortunately there were few cars travelling along this winding back road on Vancouver Island.

  A quick survey of the dials before her revealed nothing amiss. She occasionally forgot about stopping for petrol, but she could see she still had a quarter of a tank. Dismissing that possibility as the reason for her unexpected halt, Allie left the car to inspect the engine.

  It started to rain.

  Swearing softly to herself, she braced herself against the door while she studied the boxes and suitcases jammed into the back seat and tried to remember which one held her raincoat. She finally recalled that it was in her overnight case in the trunk. Slamming the car door with some violence—rain was starting to trickle down her neck—she walked two paces towards the back of the car, then stopped. Her keys were still in the ignition. She turned back and pulled the handle on the driver's side door. Nothing happened, and she saw that the knob for the door-lock was depressed. She must have pushed it down without noticing when she clambered from the car.

  The other door was locked as well.

  Pursing her lips in frustration, she treated the vehicle to a dirty look, then went to look at the engine before working out how she was going to get back into the car. It didn't matter whether she wore a slicker now, anyway. She was already soaked.

  With the bonnet raised, Allie stared down at the conglomeration of metal that made up the motor of the car. Internal combustion engines were not difficult to understand, and she knew that automobiles operated on a simple four-stroke cycle. However, the schematic drawings she was familiar with didn't seem to have much in common with all the hoses, belts and lumps of steel that confronted her.

  Allie almost didn't hear the sound of the approaching vehicle over the sound of the rain battering on the metal bonnet of the car. When she did hear it, she straightened and saw a dark Ford sedan rounding the curve. Lifting her arm to wave, Allie moved around the car to stand by the driver's side door. There was a squeal of tyres on wet tarmac as the approaching driver slammed on the brakes.

  The black Ford Granada skidded to a halt a hair's breadth from the rear of her Pontiac 6000. Before Allie could react, its door was thrust open and a big, dark-haired man emerged.

  He stalked up to her. 'You picked a hell of a place to park, lady! You're damn lucky I didn't plough into the back end of you!'

  Allie blinked up at him through the rain. His face had a curious grey cast to it, though as she met the murderous glare of his dark eyes it was being washed away by his flush of anger.

  She moistened her lips. 'There was room to go around my car,' she offered in defence.

  'Sure,' he retorted sarcastically, 'with you standing in the middle of the road ready to dash out in front of me!'

  Although she'd been standing on the traffic side of her parked car, it had hardly been the middle of the road! She was tempted to argue, then decided against it on taking further note of his expression. To put it mildly, he didn't seem to be in a very good mood.

  'My car stalled,' she said, bringing the conversation around to the problem at hand.

  He didn't reply, although he glanced at the stationary grey coupe. He then looked pointedly to the side of the road, before turning back to her. There was a wide grassy shoulder along this section of road, wide enough to park two cars abreast and still be off the road.

  Allie opened her mouth to offer an explanation, then closed it again without speaking. Until quite recently, she'd been barely aware of her habit of letting her mind wander along more interesting paths while mechanically performing routine tasks. She was aware that it was an inconvenience, of course. Her meals were frequently overcooked, her clothes didn't always match, she missed appointments. However, she wasn't your common-or-garden variety day-dreamer. Given the calibre of her thoughts, the ideas she had developed when ostensibly involved in something else, a few annoyances had seemed a small price to pay.

  Although, in this instance, she had been merely wool-gathering, she realised. Her thoughts had been of Kevin, of that last meeting with him ...

  An impatient movement from the man before her recalled Allie to her present predicament. 'I don't know what's wrong with it,' she told him, gesturing to the stationary Pontiac.

  'Have you got fuel?' He didn't have to be so sarcastic! she thought, finally goaded into temper. However, it had been quite some time since her car had stopped, and his had been the only vehicle to come along. It probably wouldn't be too wise to send him off with a flea in his ear when he might be able to help her.

  She nodded curtly. 'I checked that. I was just having a look under the bonnet when ...'

  'I'll have a look,' he interrupted her abruptly, and she caught her breath on an angry invective. He wasn't just sarcastic, he was downright boorish! 'We'd better get these vehicles off the road first. I'll pull mine off, then we'll push yours over to the side.'

  Without waiting for her response, he strode back to his car and got in. Allie drew a deep breath, dampening her irritation. He was going to assist her, so she guessed she shouldn't complain. It would have been nice, though, if her knight in shining armour hadn't turned out to be about as personable as a constipated wolverine.

  She watched him deftly reverse his Granada, then wheel it on to the road shoulder to park well away from the edge of the road. When he climbed out and paused for a moment to push a sodden lock of hair back off his forehead, Allie felt a stab of compunction. He had a right to be annoyed at being forced to stop and help her. He was dressed in a well-tailored business suit, its light grey gabardine turning black across his wide shoulders as the rain soaked it. Allie winced as he skidded slightly in the mud along the side of the road and dark goo curled up the sides of his expensive-looking leather dress-shoes. And he'd promised to look at her greasy engine!

  She offered him an apologetic smile as he joined her, but he ignored it. 'You get in and steer while I push your car,' he ordered, moving to the rear bumper and bracing himself against it in the position to push. When he saw that Allie hadn't moved, he straightened. 'Surely you can manage that much? I can't do both.'

  Allie swallowed, aware that embarrassed crimson was starting to creep up her face. As he continued to regard her with undisguised impatience, she knew she might as well come out with it. 'I ... er ... accidentally locked the keys in. I can't open the door.'

  For a long minute, he simply stared. at her in amazement. Allie bravely met his gaze, although she longed for the earth to open and swallow her. His eyes weren't the dark brown she had first thought, but a deep navy blue, and she realised that he was a very good-looking man. His features were deeply etched into the bronze of his face, giving him a slightly forbidding countenance that was none the less compelling. Her heart began to beat faster with an odd excitement, and she found herself smiling tentatively at him.

  'You can't have b
een that stupid,' he said at last, squashing her smile. He leaned over to look through the car window, his eyes skipping over the chaos in the back seat to come to rest on the keys dangling from the ignition. Finally, he looked to Allie again. 'You can't have been that stupid,' he reiterated.

  'Well, I'm sorry, but I was,' Allie retorted, her hard tones masking the hurt she was feeling. Nature had endowed her with a brain that could grasp the most complex and abstract thoughts conceived by man; however, when it came to the trivialities of everyday life ... 'I couldn't help it.'

  The stranger gave her a look of impatience, then swung away from her and started walking back to his car, shaking his head slightly as he went.

  Panic swept through her. He couldn't just leave her here! She charged after him, slipping and sliding in the mud as she went. She had nearly caught up with him when her feet shot out from under her and she sprawled face-down into the mud.

  He heard her cry out and turned back. 'Good lord, what are you up to now?' he exclaimed, coming back to help her up. 'Why didn't you stay over on the road by the car?' Grasping her forearm, he hauled her to her feet.

  'I thought you were going to leave me here,' Allie admitted, brushing gingerly at the mud clinging to the front of her dress. Her palms stung from the harsh contact with the rocky soil, and one knee was starting to throb.

  'I wasn't leaving. I was just going to see if I could find a length of wire I could use to open your car door.'

  'Oh,' Allie mumbled, feeling foolish for having panicked. His anger seemed to have fled, though, even if he still wasn't exactly friendly. He had retained his hold on her arm, and suddenly she was acutely aware of his touch. She edged slightly away from him and his hand fell away. For some reason, the loss of that warm contact made her conscious of how cold and wet she was. She shivered.

  She heard him mutter something under his breath, then he was shrugging off his suit-jacket and holding it out to her. 'Here, put this on before you freeze to death.'

  'Oh, I couldn't. I'm all dirty and you ...'

  'Just put it on and don't stand here arguing in the rain,' he grated, thrusting it at her. Allie glanced up and, seeing his expression, clamped her lower lip between her teeth. Meekly accepting the jacket, she shrugged into it as he moved on to the rear of his car and started rummaging in its trunk.

  About fifteen minutes later, Allie was seated behind the wheel of her car, steering it to the side of the road while her rescuer, pushed it. She had offered to help when he was manoeuvring the wire along the edge of the window to catch the knob on the door-lock, but he'd told her not to bother. Since he seemed in a slightly better mood, she hadn't argued, although she suspected she could have accomplished the feat with less effort—and less swearing. After all, she'd had practice. This wasn't the first time she'd locked herself out of her car.

  While the stranger tinkered with the engine, Allie remained behind the wheel, ready to try the ignition whenever he called out to her. As the minutes ticked by, Allie grew restless. The man didn't seem to be making much progress getting the car running, and every once in a while she could hear him muttering to himself.

  If only something simple had been wrong with it, she thought restively, she could have been on her way by now. Glancing over the dials in front of her again, she sought a clue to the car's misbehaviour. The gauge still read a quarter of a tank of petrol. She tapped the glass front of the dial thoughtfully. The needle quivered, then to her amazement fell over to below the 'E'.

  She stared at it for a moment, then looked up to see the man coming towards her. He was wiping his soiled hands on a rag as he came. His white shirt was soaked, plastering his well-muscled torso in a semi-transparent film. A dark smear of grease decorated one sleeve. Guiltily, Allie laced her fingers together in her lap.

  He leaned over to speak to her through the open window. 'We'll have to have it towed to a garage. I can't figure out what the trouble is, and if we keep on trying to start it we'll just end up draining the battery.'

  'Well.. . actually, I've just found out it was the fuel all along ... er—there isn't any.' She could see his features hardening and rushed on, 'The gauge must have been stuck. I tapped it and the needle went to empty. See?' She pointed to the gauge.

  When she looked back to him, there was a flush along the top of his cheekbones. His hands were clenched around the rag he'd been using, twisting it together. She had the distinct impression he was wishing it was her neck.

  'I'm really sorry about this. I ...'

  'Don't apologise!' he snapped, and she jumped slightly. He gazed down into her wide grey eyes, which were shadowed with guilt, and took a deep, calming breath. A moment passed before it had any effect, then his hands slowly eased their stranglehold on the rag. His expression of anger softened to one of mere exasperation. 'Don't bother with excuses, either,' he advised in a milder tone that was oddly bitter. 'As you pointed out before, you can't help it.'

  Allie felt some of the tension easing out of her. 'Well, no, I didn't think to check the gauge ...'

  'No, I'd guessed that blonde hair was natural,' he interposed drily.

  She gave him a puzzled glance. She had meant to say she hadn't thought to check to see if the gauge was working properly. His comment didn't seem apropos to that, though. It was almost as if—the light dawned. 'I'm not making excuses! The gauge was broken. When I looked at it earlier, it showed a quarter of a tank!' Allie declared hotly.

  He smiled down at her, gently but with a flavour of mockery. 'Look, don't let it bother you. There's not much anyone can do but accept the limitations they were born with. At least you're beautiful enough not to need too many brain cells to get by on. Stop apologising.'

  Allie stared at him as the full import of his words sank in, her lips parting as her jaw dropped. He really thought she was stupid—a dumb blonde! Ignoring her flabbergasted expression, he continued, 'I've got a hose in the trunk of my car. I'll see if it will work to syphon some fuel from my tank for you—enough to get you to a petrol station, anyway.'

  Allie stared at his back as he walked away, dumbfounded by his conclusions about her. Although she was absent-minded about day-to-day affairs, she had never been expected to pay much attention to the mundane details of life. She had been five years old when testing had discovered she possessed an IQ of a hundred and ninety-four. Since that time, her entire life had been geared towards exploiting the potential of that incredible brainpower. She'd received her doctorate at the age of seventeen, the youngest Ph.D. in her university's history. Now, at twenty-four, she was one of the world's most respected experts in the field of computer mathematics.

  Only Kevin had ever tackled her about her eccentricities, and then only obliquely. He'd called her a clinging vine because she relied on others to keep her life running on smoothly oiled wheels—and he didn't want the job. However, he hadn't accused her of lacking in intelligence because of her lapses.

  She reached for the door-handle to let herself out of the car. Perhaps she ought to explain to this fellow just exactly who she was. However, her hand froze on the handle as she recalled what else he'd said.

  He'd called her beautiful!

  For a moment, Allie sat, stunned, then unconsciously released her grip on the door-handle. She shifted in her seat so that she could see herself in the rear-view mirror. A heart-shaped face; large grey eyes fringed by dark lashes; a small nose that turned up slightly at the end; a wide, full-lipped mouth—she supposed the inventory didn't add up to too bad a picture, but people just didn't tell Dr Allison Jennings Smith she was beautiful! They told her she'd made some very salient points in that last article she'd published, or asked her opinion on the latest theory on whatever—but no one ever told her she was beautiful!

  'There's fuel in your tank now—enough to get you to the petrol station that's three or four miles further along this road. Don't push your luck, though. Stop and fill up there.' The man had returned to her side without her being aware of him, and Allie was startled away from the co
ntemplation of her reflection. Swinging her eyes to him, she gave him a wondering look. He'd actually told her she was beautiful, recognised her as a woman—maybe a stupid one, but a woman none the less. That seldom happened in her life. She was a highly developed brain, a supercomputer that interfaced with the lesser models she worked on.

  'You shouldn't have any trouble finding the service station,' he supplied when Allie remained staring at him in silence. He was frowning impatiently as he gestured to the road in front of them. 'You just stay right on this road and you can't miss it. I'd follow you to make sure you get there all right, but frankly I'd like to be on my way.'

  'Oh, yes, of course,' Allie said quickly. 'It was good of you to stop and help me in the first place. I'm sorry for any inconvenience I've caused you. I ...'

  'If I could just have my jacket back?' he asked, damming the flow of her gratitude.

  She'd completely forgotten she was still wearing it. Flustered, she fumbled with the door-handle, then thrust the car door open and scrambled out. As she clumsily shrugged out of the jacket to hand it over, she could feel the heat burning in her face, acutely aware that he was waiting impatiently for the return of his property.

  However, when she'd handed it over, he didn't move away immediately. She dared an upward glance into his face, her own burning even hotter when she read his look. The jacket had moulded the damp bodice of her dress to her full breasts, and she could feel her nipples hardening in the sudden chill of air. The man's deep navy eyes rested on them, admiring and speculative.

  'Well, sorry to have delayed you,' Allie stammered, swinging about and diving back into her car. The ignition fired at a twist of the key, and she slipped the Pontiac into gear. Her rescuer was forced to jump hastily out of her path as she put her foot down on the accelerator.

  'I really appreciate your letting me invite myself for a visit,' Allie said. In her dressing-gown, she was curled up on the bed in Clare Evans's guest-room, sipping a mug of steaming hot chocolate as she talked with her hostess. A hot bath had washed away the mud and rain-chill left over from her adventures earlier in the day, and she felt warmer and more relaxed than she had in weeks.