Foolish Deceiver Read online

  And, as if that heartbreaking little scene had never occurred, Linc said matter-of-factly, 'Since you haven't had a chance to get in any foodstuff, you can have dinner with me. Mrs Dorcus always makes plenty.'

  Allie gaped at him. 'I don't ... couldn't eat with you—you—sadist! I'd choke. What do you do for recreation ... pull the wings off flies?' She whirled around and stared mutely down at the floor. Her hands were trembling and she laced them in front of her to still their movement. She'd been appallingly rude. His face had told her that. But he deserved it.

  Heavy silence lay over the kitchen, broken only by the dull throbbing of her pulse in her ears. Finally she heard Linc turn away, and she released the breath she had been unconsciously holding.

  Linc didn't leave, though. Although he moved a few paces towards the door, he stopped and turned back to her. 'I don't really owe you any explanations, but if you're going to be around here all summer you'll undoubtedly be coming into contact with my son occasionally. You'd better understand that he does a lot of things purely for effect.'

  She didn't want to hear his excuses; there was no excuse for him.

  When she didn't react, Linc snapped, 'For Pete's sake, turn around. I have no intention of standing here carrying on a conversation with your back!'

  Although she had had no intention of accommodating him, she found herself turning to face him. 'Jason wasn't carrying on for effect! His grief was very real.'

  Linc treated her to a look of exasperation. 'It wasn't.'

  'Clare told me that you were a widower. Are you denying that Jason's mother is dead?'

  'I'm not denying it,' he said heavily. 'But Natalie has nothing to do with that little scene. That was pure television.'

  'What are you talking about?'

  'Jason's mother died when he was two. That was nearly five years ago. When a child loses a parent at that age, that long ago, he or she retains very little memory of them. It's just a sad fact of life, and Jason is no exception. He isn't hurting for his mother; he doesn't even remember her. Even I seldom think of her any more.' Allie gave him a keen glance. While he might be a harassed parent, he didn't really look like a grieving widower. For no reason at all, she felt a sudden relaxation of tension.

  Linc continued, 'Jason has, however, quite recently discovered the emotional appeal of being a "poor motherless little boy". His heartbreaking little speech was quite frankly lifted almost word for word from a programme he recently saw on television. He saw it over at one of his friend's houses. Unfortunately, the boy's mother inadvertently drew his attention to the parallel between the character on the programme, who had lost his mother, albeit at an older age and much more recently, and himself. I believe he managed to coax an extra dessert out of her by playing it up. Since then, he has tried it out on just about every new person he meets.'

  Allie regarded him uncertainly. His explanation did seem plausible; she didn't even know why she was wavering. It wasn't as though she'd even liked the little boy when he had been here. And yet ... 'Are you really sending him to bed without supper?'

  'It's what he deserves for flaunting my instructions, but ...' Linc shrugged. 'I'm afraid my housekeeper would never allow it. She'll fix him something on a tray, probably his favourite dishes, and give it to him in his room whatever I say. Jason has Mrs Dorcus firmly wrapped around his little finger.'

  'I see.' She didn't know quite what else to say beyond that. Suddenly she felt incredibly awkward in his presence. Distractedly, she reached down and picked up one of the newspaper balls littering the floor, and slowly began smoothing the wrinkles from it.

  'And what about your supper?' Linc asked.

  'My supper?'

  'I invited you to have dinner with me, remember?'

  'Oh ... oh, yes, of course.'

  'Will you come?'

  Allie gave him an unsure look. One part of her very desperately wanted to share the meal with him, and it had nothing to do with the pangs of hunger assaulting her stomach. It made no sense, though. She felt awkward and ill at ease in his company. Besides, she didn't want a repeat of that scene this morning. She sent him a surreptitious glance from beneath her lashes. She didn't want him kissing her like that again, did she?

  'This place is a mess. I should stay here and clean it up.'

  'It won't run away, and you still need to eat. You haven't any food in the house ... my sons tells me not even cookies.' The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

  'That's true,' Allie admitted. However, there were a couple of small grocery stores in the Cedar area. It would only take a few minutes in the car to get to one and pick up some supplies. A quick bowl of soup and she could get down to putting all this stuff away.

  She was going to explain all that to him, but the words dried on her lips as she saw his expression of gentle coaxing. 'Come have dinner with me, Allie,' he ordered softly.

  'I'd have to change.'

  'I'll wait for you,' Linc said easily.

  She smiled suddenly. 'It won't take me long to get ready.'

  Linc's home was nestled at the base of the bluff on which the cabin was sited. A steep pathway led through the trees, linking the two dwellings. As Allie gingerly negotiated her way down it, she wondered if changing into a full-skirted sundress and pumps was such a good idea. It was one of the outfits Clare had helped her buy, feminine and a little sexy. Why she was wasting her 'man-bait' on Linc was a mystery. He already had a girlfriend and, even if he hadn't had, he'd only kissed her for a joke. Besides, it looked as if it was going to be a toss-up as to whether her dress would be torn to shreds by the blackberry brambles before or after she broke her ankle on the rock-strewn path.

  When Linc clasped her hand to help her negotiate the uneven footing, though, she forgot all about what she was wearing. Something about his warm touch addled her brain, driving all other thoughts and sensations from her head. Even after he released her hand at the foot of the path, she was slow to recover her wits. She only received the barest impression of the outside of his house, a modern cedar and glass edifice, before he led her inside.

  In the foyer he said, 'Wait for me in the living-room while I let Mrs Dorcus know that I've brought you back for dinner.' He gestured to the archway behind Allie.

  'Sure,' Allie agreed, watching him go down the hall that led off in the opposite direction before turning to enter the sitting-room.

  It was dominated by the view from the wide window-wall on the ocean side of the house. There was a panoramic seascape of water and islands gleaming in the early evening sunlight. Although it beckoned to her, Allie resisted the temptation to savour the view. It matched that from the cabin, only from a slightly different aspect. She was frankly more interested in inspecting Linc's living-room, looking for clues to his personality.

  The room had an air of rustic elegance with a masculine flavour. Western red cedar panelled the walls, the warm richness of the wood carried through in the luxurious gold plush carpeting. A long sofa, covered in buttery soft leather, faced the natural stone fireplace at the far end of the room. Occasional chairs and tables were scattered about in cosy, conversational groups. Allie was immediately drawn to the chessboard set up on a low table in front of the fireplace. One set of men were carved from dark green jade, the other from pale green milky jade. The squares of the board were made from the same material.

  Fascinated, Allie reached out to inspect one of the pieces more closely.

  'Daddy'll smack you if you touch his chess-set.'

  Allie looked behind her to find a pyjama-clad Jason staring at her disapprovingly.

  'Do you think he would?' she asked, smiling at the little boy. He looked a lot cuter when he was clean, she decided ... well, not so clean, she amended, taking a closer look at him. There was a small patch of red on his chin and a much larger one on the front of his pyjama tops. It looked like ketchup, or perhaps spaghetti sauce. Whatever it was, it didn't look as though Jason had been forced to forgo his dinner.

 
In response to her question, the child nodded solemnly. 'He spanked me.'

  Allie's eyebrows shot up, then she frowned slightly. She was no expert on children, but she didn't think parents should have to resort to physical punishment to discipline their offspring. Surely there was a more civilised way of handling the situation?

  She looked back at the chess-set and the boy came over to join her. 'That's the king,' he said, pointing with his finger, but keeping it a discreet quarter of an inch from the piece.

  It was the strangest thing. Although her eyes were on the boy, she knew the moment Linc entered the room, even though his footfalls were silenced by the thick carpeting. Allie glanced away from the board and looked over to him. He was smiling as he walked over to them, his strides long and panther-like. A frisson of pleasure danced down her spine. What was it about him that made him so much more attractive than the other men Clare had introduced her to? Allie had accepted several invitations from the various men she'd met at Clare's barbecue, had enjoyed her outings with them, and yet ... In the back of her mind, hadn't she wished that it had been Linc who had asked her out, had spent the evening with her, had kissed her goodnight?

  Before Linc reached them, Jason commanded Allie's attention again by tugging at her arm. He'd succumbed to temptation and was holding one of the chess-men. 'This looks like a horse, but it's called a night. Isn't that stupid?' He giggled. 'Ta-ta-lum-ta-ta-lumpt.' He galloped the little figurine across the palm of his hand and up his arm.

  When he looked up and saw his father, his game ceased abruptly. His fingers curled around the chessman in an attempt to conceal it within his palm as he met Linc's stern gaze with a sullen face. There was a tense silence that seemed to stretch for hours, then the man said in a low, dangerous voice, 'Put that back where you found it.'

  The boy's mouth set in a mutinous line. 'I was just showing it to the lady,' he said sulkily, setting the knight back on to its square with a clatter.

  Allie saw Linc flinch and slid her gaze to the board, making a furtive inspection of the chess-piece. It didn't appear to have been damaged, but she did notice that one or two of the other pieces had fine cracks bisecting them. They appeared to have been broken and glued back together. So it wasn't just a dictatorial whim that had made Linc place the chess-set out of bounds to his son.

  However, his tone was conversational as he asked the boy, 'Aren't you supposed to be in your room?'

  'I was bored. There's nothing to do in there.'

  Linc threw Allie a wry glance. 'He makes it sound like Siberia. The toy department at Eaton's during Christmas would be a better description.'

  'I don't have hardly any toys!' Jason protested in outrage. 'I don't have a "Snake Mountain" like Darryl does. And he has ‑'

  'You have enough,' his father cut him off abruptly. 'It's time you were back in your room, son. In case you forgot, you were supposed to stay in there because you didn't keep near the house this afternoon as you were told to.'

  'Ah, Dad,' he whined. 'Can't I stay up? My favourite programme's coming on. I want to watch TV.'

  'No TV tonight. It's almost bedtime anyway, so off you get.'

  Jason glared up at his father stubbornly. Allie could almost see him digging his heels in for a confrontation. Hastily, she intervened, 'How would it be if I read Jason a story in his room? You wouldn't mind, would you, Linc?'

  Before he could answer, his son pre-empted him, shouting, 'I don't want a story! I hate books! They're stupid. I want to watch TV!'

  'That's it, Jason!' Linc roared. 'You'll apologise to Miss Smith for being rude, and then you're going straight to your room.'

  'I won't!' the boy retorted. 'I won't 'pologise! I want to watch TV!' he wailed.

  He was nearly hysterical, his breath coming in jerky, hiccuping sobs. Quickly scooping Jason off his feet, Linc started to carry him from the room. Over his shoulder, he said to Allie, 'I'll be back in a few minutes.' The child was struggling in his arms, twisting and flailing his limbs, but Linc managed to retain his hold as he bore him away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS over half an hour before Linc returned to the living-room. As he walked in, Allie rose from the sofa where she had been idly flipping through a magazine, asking, 'Is he all right?'

  Linc nodded. 'He's dropped off to sleep now.' There was a brooding air about him, his face was slightly pale and he looked older, somehow. Allie felt her heart go out to him. She'd done a lot of thinking about him while he'd been out of the room settling his son down. In the past few weeks, Clare had let drop quite a few titbits about Linc's life. On the surface, he seemed to lead a charmed existence, the sort that would incite envy in other men and conceit within himself. He owned a successful computer programming firm in Vancouver, had this beautiful waterfront home. From the windows of the living-room she'd glimpsed a cabin cruiser moored below the house, and a single-engine float-plane. Clare had told her that he used them to commute between the island and his business in downtown Vancouver.

  And it wasn't just materially that Linc had been blessed, Allie thought, looking over to him now. He was probably the most attractive man she'd ever encountered: lean, sexy, charming when he wanted to be. As an eligible bachelor, he could have his pick of women.

  'I really want to apologise to you for that scene,' he said, breaking into her thoughts. He ran his hand through the dark pelt of his hair.

  'Please, don't worry about it,' Allie said quickly. 'I'm just glad everything is OK.' It was a stupid comment. Of course everything wasn't OK. In many ways Jason was an appealing child, but he obviously had some problems, too. It couldn't be easy for Linc to cope with him. His life wasn't the bed of roses a casual observer might think it was.

  For a moment it looked as though Linc might continue with the topic of Jason, but then he shrugged, looking away from Allie briefly. When he looked back, he asked, 'Look, I know this has kind of delayed dinner, but would you care to have a drink before we go into the dining-room? I should have asked you before.'

  The truth was that Allie was famished. Her stomach was getting quite cranky from neglect. If she fed it alcohol now, it would probably send it straight to her head in a fit of pique.

  On the other hand, if ever a man looked as if he needed a drink, it was Linc. Moving to resume her seat on the sofa, she said, 'That would be very nice. I wouldn't mind a glass of white wine.'

  He nodded and moved to the drinks cabinet in the corner. Its polished wood doors concealed a small bar-fridge, and he retrieved ice and a bottle of wine from its recesses. After pouring Allie's glass of wine and handing it to her, he fixed his own drink: a generous splash of Canadian Club on the rocks. Taking a tiny sip of her own drink, Allie watched Linc take a hefty swallow of his before seating himself at the other end of the couch.

  They sat in silence: Linc moodily savouring his whiskey, Allie taking minute swallows of wine in hopes that it would keep her stomach from rumbling.

  After several minutes had elapsed, Linc roused himself. The magazine Allie had been thumbing through was lying on the sofa cushion that separated them. He picked it up and looked at it, then looked at Allie.

  'Was this all you could find to read? I'm sorry about that. You must have found it boring.'

  The magazine was the New Scientist. Although she had never subscribed to the British publication, she did read it occasionally, enjoying its articles on the latest happenings in the world of science.

  She looked over to Linc, a small frown pleating her forehead. It was far from boring. She was about to tell him so when he looked up from the cover of the magazine and over to her. 'Mrs Dorcus usually has some fashion magazines lying around. I guess she must have put them away.'

  'Oh ...' She'd almost forgotten! She wasn't supposed to be the kind of girl who read even mildly intellectual publications. She wouldn't enjoy them and certainly wouldn't understand what they were about. 'The magazine was fine. I read the cartoons and looked through the pictures,' Allie said quickly.

  Mrs Dorcus serv
ed them a delicious chicken casserole in the dining-room, and as Allie sent it down to her grateful tummy she wondered why she had been so hasty to reinforce Linc's delusions about the level of her intelligence. On moving out of Clare's home, she had half decided to drop her act of the dumb blonde. It had worked in the sense that her social life had never been so active. On the other hand, her dates would have been considerably more enjoyable if she hadn't had to restrict her comments to the totally insipid. The inevitable result had been that her escorts had been careful to gear their conversation to what they considered her level of understanding to be, and most of them had ended up boring her. While Allie hadn't exactly planned to advertise the fact that she had her doctorate in computer mathematics, she had decided that there must be some middle ground between that and appearing mentally deficient.

  Allie glanced briefly over to Linc. He hadn't said much to her since they had sat down to the meal. Maybe it was only that he was preoccupied with thoughts concerning his son, but it could be that he could think of no common ground between them on which to base a conversation.

  But Allie knew that there was a lot they could talk about. She loved to play chess ... there was the magazine article she had been reading earlier, and of course Linc's business. He was even in the same field as she was! They had a lot in common, if only Linc knew it.

  Maybe it was time that she let him know it. As Allie cleared her plate, she pondered the best way to open a conversation with him. She could hardly blurt out, 'Gee, Linc, I'm really smart, so you can talk to me about anything you want and I'll be able to understand it.' She needed to be a little more subtle than that!

  'Shall we have our coffee out on the veranda?' Linc asked, breaking into her reverie.

  'Yes, that would be lovely,' Allie agreed readily. It would also give her a few more minutes to think up a brilliant conversational gambit.

  Allie never had been very successful in social exchanges, though, and the extra time only meant that she was able to formulate and reject several opening statements without coming up with one she was happy with. They had been on the veranda sipping cups of hot coffee for several minutes when, in desperation, she finally decided to just open her mouth and see what came out.