Foolish Deceiver Read online

  Allie only took a few paces into the cabin before shock halted her. The interior was almost unrecognisable from her previous visit. It even smelled different. The dank, musky odour she had noticed before was replaced by the clean, 'new' smell of carpeting, paint and sawdust. The walls and ceilings had been finished and colour-washed in off-white, and soft dove-grey carpeting covered the previously bare floor. As for the old furniture she had been expecting ... there was a suspiciously new-looking sofa in dusky rose and a pair of wing chairs patterned with flowers in the same colour. Polished mahogany end-tables were scattered about the room, holding up bright brass table-lamps.

  Allie looked over to Linc, feeling dazed. It was incredible to think that he had done all this for her. Maybe he didn't dislike her as much as she thought. Maybe now she could admit to herself that she didn't dislike him either.

  Allie moistened her lips. 'I... er ... I don't know what to say. It's lovely. You must have gone ...'

  'It's no big deal,' he cut her off, shrugging in irritation. He seemed embarrassed and discomfited by her gratitude. 'The place needed to be fixed up before it was let, anyway. It'll be easier to find someone else to take it over after you leave if I have it furnished.'

  Allie bit her lip as she watched him walk away from her towards the kitchen. Of course, he hadn't done all' this just for her. It was rather foolish of her to think that he might have. Still ... her eyes rested on the spot where the crude wooden counter had stood. It had been torn out and replaced by modern oak cabinets topped with formica. Beyond it, she could see that the entire kitchen had been remodelled. He had gone to so much trouble!

  'I still want to thank you. It wouldn't have bothered me to live in it the way if was, but this is really fantastic!'

  He gave her a look of faint exasperation, then said drily, 'Well, I'm glad you like it. Come look over the rest of it,' he suggested, beckoning her into the kitchen.

  Even though she knew she was annoying him, Allie couldn't prevent little murmurs of appreciation escaping as they toured the rest of the house. The kitchen was a dream, compact but convenient, with gleaming counter-tops and appliances. The bathroom had been completely refitted with ivory fixtures and a modern shower-cabinet.

  By the time they reached the bedroom, Linc was looking quite put-out with her. Allie's eyes lit up when she saw the exquisite broderie anglaise quilt gracing the divan bed and the matching curtains at the window. She turned to Linc, her mouth opening to comment, but he spoke first.

  'I know, it's gorgeous,' he said sardonically.

  Allie blushed, coming down to earth with a thud as she caught his mocking expression. Now she was the one who was embarrassed. It was one thing to show appreciation, but she'd been spewing out praise for half an hour, rendering it meaningless. 'I'm sorry I got carried away. It's just that everything is so ...' She shrugged, unable to complete the sentence.

  'You finally ran out of adjectives,' Linc said with mock relief.

  Avoiding his eyes, Allie looked away and her gaze fell on to the bed. A tiny shiver rippled down her spine as she looked at it, imagining ... She hadn't even thought about their being alone together in the bedroom until that moment.

  Suddenly, she was uncomfortable. The saliva left her mouth and she swallowed hard.

  When she looked back over to Linc, he was eyeing her consideringly, a faint gleam lighting his navy eyes. She had a feeling he knew exactly what she had been thinking. He said, 'There is a better way of showing me how much you like what I've had done to the cabin than just telling me.'

  Deliberately obtuse, Allie gave him a puzzled look, frowning slightly as he moved to stand directly in front of her. Of course, he was only joking.

  'A better way,' he reiterated. His hands moved to her shoulders before she had a chance to move away, and he tugged her forwards. 'A much, much better way,' he murmured as his head lowered and his mouth covered hers.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FOR A moment Allie stood perfectly still within Linc's arms, uncertain what to do. Had his kiss been forceful, demanding, she would have bolted, wrenching from his embrace and probably kicking him in the shins for good measure. But it wasn't like that. His mouth was cool and passionless over hers, his embrace steady and almost impersonal. It was a friendly, perfunctory kiss, nothing more. It was a silly game he was playing with her.

  Knowing that, despite that, she felt a tantalising warmth slowly begin to trickle through her, thawing her inhibitions. She had been kissed before, with passion, with desire, and yet those kisses had never sparked this slow, burning urgency that she was feeling now.

  As the heat built within her, Allie relaxed against him, moving her body closer to his as her arms lifted to encircle his neck. Her lips parted to invite his pillage, and she sensed his hesitation, as though he might at any moment withdraw. Her arms tightened unconsciously, holding him to her as she moved against him, thigh against thigh, her breasts flattening against his chest. Suddenly it was the most important thing in the world that he should not release her, cast her from him. In a deep, elemental part of her, she felt she might die from the blow if he did.

  She felt his shudder, the low groan somewhere deep within his throat, and knew that he would not leave her. The hands that had been on her shoulders stroked down her back to her waist, confident and firm as they drew her closer. His lips searched hers, his tongue probing the softness of her inner lips. Melting in his embrace, Allie's hands caressed his shoulders, her fingertips delighting in the hard strength of him.

  Easing a space between them, Linc slipped his hand over her throbbing breast and kneaded the swollen globe. A dart of pure ecstasy shot through Allie, liquefying her bones so that she was forced to cling to him. His mouth trailed a path of flames along her cheek to her jaw, then down her throat. He moved his hand to release the top button of her blouse, his fingertips brushing the smooth satin of her skin. At the same time, he turned her, gently easing her towards the bed.

  'Allie!'

  Like children playing statues, they froze at the sound of Clare's voice coming from the living-room.

  'Allie! Where are you?'

  At the second call, Allie pushed herself free of Linc's arms and stood staring at him with wide, appalled eyes. 'Oh!' she whispered, the reality of the situation crashing in on her. She'd been a hair's breadth from going to bed with Linc. If Clare's voice hadn't interrupted ...

  Linc's eyes held hers, but he also looked shaken. Then Allie saw him take a deep breath, and a mask seemed to drop over his features, leaving them expressionless. 'We're in here,' he called out in a steady voice. 'I was just showing Allie around.'

  As he stepped around her towards the door, he said in a harsh undertone, 'Straighten your clothes.'

  Allie's hand went to the front of her blouse. The top buttons were open, exposing the swell of her breasts, inadequately concealed by the fragile lace of her bra. Fingers shaking, she clumsily did up the buttons, aware of Linc waiting for her by the door.

  At last the task was finished, and she looked over to him. Although his features were still impassive, she could sense anger simmering within him. 'Linc?' she questioned timidly, seeking reassurance.

  His gaze slowly drifted down her form, then beyond her to the bed. Finally he met her eyes. There was no masking the contempt in his dark blue eyes now. 'Are you ready to go?'

  'You started it,' Allie accused, ignoring his question. ' You kissed me.' Anger raised her chin to a proud angle, but inside she felt sick with humiliation.

  Linc shrugged. 'I did it as a joke. Too bad Clare showed up. We were just getting to the punch-line.' He smiled, and the set of his lips was cruel.

  Allie paled, her grey eyes stricken. He couldn't have hurt her more if he had slapped her. Linc's smile faded on seeing her expression, the harsh set of his features fading. He took a step forward, holding his hand out to her. 'I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.'

  'Go to hell,' Allie rasped, pushing past him to reach the door.

  When Allie left th
e bedroom, she found Clare in the sitting-room. Fortunately, the older woman was too engrossed in admiring the redecoration of the cabin to notice Allie's somewhat distraite air. By the time it came for them to unload the bits and pieces of domestic paraphernalia loaded into Clare's station-wagon, Allie had regained her composure. She was helped considerably in this by Linc's departure. He was too much of a gentleman not to offer to help with the unpacking, but he accepted Allie's refusal of his help without argument. She suspected he didn't want to be around her any more than she wanted to be in his company.

  Clare left as soon as her car was unloaded. Her next batch of house-guests was arriving that day, and she had to meet them at Departure Bay in Nanaimo where the ferry from Vancouver docked. Leaving the boxes of dishes, cooking utensils, bedding, etcetera stacked in the centre of the kitchen floor, Allie worked to get her own car unloaded. She only had a couple of suitcases for her clothes, but there were, numerous boxes of books, papers, computer disks, and, of course, Harold, which needed to be unloaded.

  The crude ladder to the loft had been replaced by a narrow staircase of wrought iron with wooden steps, and Allie decided to use the upper floor as an office. Linc hadn't furnished it, probably assuming she had no use for the space, but it was carpeted and freshly painted. Once she got a desk and chair, it would make an ideal work area—besides, she wasn't as enamoured with the downstairs as she had been when she'd first seen it.

  It was rather silly, actually, but she couldn't control her feelings. When they'd come out of the bedroom, Linc had stayed for a few minutes talking to Clare. Naturally, the other woman's comments had centred on the transformation of the cabin. It was then that Linc had mentioned that Elaine had had a hand in choosing the decorations.

  It shouldn't have made a difference, but it was after hearing Linc tell Clare that, that Allie began having second thoughts about the cabin's interior. Of course, Elaine's role in the proceedings probably had nothing to do with it. She certainly wasn't jealous of the other woman. How could she be? Allie didn't even like Linc, so the woman was welcome to him. It was probably just that, after the initial surprise had worn off, she'd had a better chance to assess the changes. Grey and rose for the living-room seemed muted and a bit bland once she thought about it. As for the broderie anglaise in the bedroom, it gave the room an aura of sickly-sweet femininity that might be cute in a little girl's sanctum, but was hardly suitable for a grown woman.

  Once she had carried everything upstairs to the loft, Allie spent a few minutes unpacking Harold, then decided to do a brief systems check on him. He'd been stowed away in his crate since she'd left the Institute, and she wanted to be sure that he hadn't sustained any damage during her trip out to the coast.

  It was a mistake. Once she'd seated herself cross-legged on the floor in front of the computer screen, Allie was lost to the real world. The hours of the day melted away, and it wasn't until her stomach rumbled persistently that she returned to the realities of life. She'd forgotten all about lunch, and it was almost time for the evening meal.

  Downstairs, the kitchen looked as if a cardboard box factory had exploded in it. All the cartons that she and Clare had unloaded from her friend's car were strewn around exactly where they had dumped them. Allie grimaced at the chaos, then did a futile check of the empty cupboards and fridge. She'd forgotten all about buying groceries.

  'Whatya doin'?'

  Startled by the voice, Allie jumped, knocking several wads of crumpled newspaper packing from the carton she'd been rummaging through and on to the floor. Turning towards the sound, she saw a small boy staring at her. The back door of the cabin, which had been closed, was standing wide open, and as she watched the boy stepped through and into the kitchen.

  He studied her for several moments with undisguised curiosity, then looked around the kitchen. He wrinkled his nose. After being shut up all day, the cabin smelt strongly of the new carpeting, although it wasn't a particularly objectionable odour. However, the boy said, 'It smells yukky in here.' He kicked at a newspaper wad lying at his feet and sent it scudding across the floor to rest under the kitchen table.

  In general, Allie liked children, although she'd never had much to do with them. However, all things considered, this one seemed to be a rather rude little boy, Allie assessed. Hadn't he ever heard of knocking? He wasn't exactly ready to go visiting, either. Dressed in a grubby T-shirt and short trousers, his face was streaked with dirt, his untidy mop of dark hair crying out for a good brush.

  Before she could suggest he leave, though, he repeated his question. 'Whatya doin'?'

  'I'm looking for something to eat,' Allie admitted curtly. 'Maybe you ought to go on home and let me get on with it.'

  He ignored her suggestion, coming forward to peer into the box she had been ransacking. He then moved over to the refrigerator, and without invitation pulled open its door and peered into its bare interior. As he turned back to Allie, he slammed the door shut behind him. 'How come you don't keep your food in the 'frigerator like we do?'

  Allie really wondered why she felt compelled to offer any explanations to him, but she found herself saying, 'I do normally, there and in the cupboard. But I haven't had time to go shopping yet. I was looking in there to see if my friend might have slipped in a packet of cookies when she packed the carton.'

  He looked up at her, his dark eyes lighting up. 'I like cookies.'

  Allie's mouth twitched. He was a pushy little twerp, but there was something appealing about him. 'Do you?' she replied drily.

  'I like cookies real good.' He looked down at the carton, his gaze lingering as though he were contemplating a treasure chest filled with jewels. He raised his eyes back to her. 'I'm a real good cookie-finder. I found the cookies even when Mrs Dorcus hid them way, way up in the back of the cupboard over the 'frigerator.'

  Suddenly, the boy delved into the carton, chucking out the newspaper with gay abandon and endangering the glasses and dinnerware that it had been protecting.

  'Jason! Just what do you think you're doing?'

  Allie turned and saw Linc Summerville standing in the doorway. That mornings she had felt that if she never saw him again it would be too soon. Right now, though, she viewed his appearance as a godsend. She hadn't a clue as to how she was supposed to handle this little monster that had invaded her kitchen.

  The little monster looked up and regarded the newcomer unconcernedly. 'Hi, Dad,' he greeted Linc nonchalantly before burrowing back into the box, nearly tipping over into it headfirst.

  While Allie digested the knowledge that this brat was Linc's son, he strode across the room and pulled the child out of the box by the waistband of his shorts. Setting the child on his feet, he looked down at him. There was a steely glint in Linc's eyes and a tight set to his mouth that didn't bode well for his son. 'I asked you what you were doing over here. I told you to stay in the yard and play until supper was ready.'

  Unimpressed by his father's obvious wrath, Jason answered easily, 'I was looking for this lady's cookies.' He made a movement as though to return to his search, but Linc's hard hands on his shoulders held him where he was.

  Linc frowned slightly, glancing over to Allie. She didn't have an opportunity to explain before Jason pre-empted her. 'She said they were in this box, but I think she was lying. I couldn't find them and I looked and looked.' He kicked the box disgustedly with the toe of his shoe, causing the crockery inside to rattle ominously. 'You know, she doesn't have anything at all in her 'frigerator?' he told his father in an appalled tone. 'She said she had cookies, but I couldn't find them!'

  Linc gave her an odd look and Allie averted her face. She wondered if Linc would even recognise her if her cheeks weren't beet-red. She'd never been a blusher, but since meeting him she seemed to do little else. The man had an absolute talent for catching her in embarrassing situations.

  'I didn't have time to go shopping,' she finally mumbled when the lengthening silence became unbearable.

  'I see,' Linc said. His gaze swept o
ver the chaotic room. She could read his thoughts. It was only too obvious that she hadn't spent her time unpacking. With dread, she waited for him to ask her just exactly what she had been doing all day—frantically wondering how she would answer. However, the question never came, as Jason lunged back into the conversation.

  'I'm hungry. Is supper ready yet?'

  'It is,' Linc said grimly, turning his attention back to his son. 'Maybe you should be sent to bed without it, though. I told you to stay around the house and not come over here bothering Miss Smith. You disobeyed me, and you're going to have to be punished.'

  'Ah, Dad,' Jason wailed. 'I'll starve if you don't let me have supper.' He clutched his stomach and groaned dramatically. 'Without any food I'll be deaded and ... and ... you'll have to bury me and put flowers on my grave.' With his arms still wrapped about his stomach, he gave another pathetic groan and stared up mutely at his father's stern countenance. 'Please, Daddy, I don't want to be deaded like Mommy.' A single sad tear trailed slowly down the babyish curve of his cheek, 'I miss my mommy.' Wresting free of his father's hold, he flung himself at Allie, burying his head in her mid-section and sobbing pitifully.

  It was a scene that would melt a heart of stone, but when Allie looked over to Linc she saw his expression had grown even harder, his jaw clenched in silent anger, his eyes glacier-cold.

  He walked over to the boy and firmly disengaged his arms from around Allie. Holding him before him, he said sternly, 'Jason, I want you to get home right now. I'll expect you to be bathed, in your pyjamas and in bed by the time I get there. Do you understand?'

  The child's eyes were pools of anguish, his little boy mouth quivering with hurt. 'Yes, Dad,' Jason muttered. Head bent, he shuffled obediently out of the door.

  Allie stared after the child in amazement. She had harboured no great opinion of Linc Summerville before, but she had never imagined that he ... that anyone ... could be so utterly cruel and heartless to a poor, defenceless, motherless child. Why, he was a monster!