His Mistress Proposal?. Trish Wylie
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the water from her hair and face as she turned to face the invader. In spite of Melanie’s open invitation she had tried to avoid coming down to the pool when she knew the adult members of the family were using it, several times having backed off after glimpsing Luc cutting smoothly through the water on a seemingly endless series of laps, barely creating a ripple with his streamlined stroke.
Expecting a sleek, seal-dark head to break the water after the dive, followed by a pair of lean, tawny shoulders, she felt a stab of disappointment as she saw Ross Bentley’s chiselled features bob up at the far end of the pool. To her dismay he flashed a smile at her expectant face and began to swim back towards her, head down, his solid arms and legs attacking the water with more aggression than grace.
Uncaring that it might seem rude, Veronica headed for the wide, curving stairs at the near end of the pool, but before she could get there Ross circled around in front of her, one hand reaching up to grip the tiled edge of the pool and pull himself upright, barring her way with his thick body, bronzed to an unlikely tan by the exclusive Melbourne sun-bed clinic Ashley had boasted they had both attended to prepare for the holiday.
‘What’s your hurry?’ he said, with a smug grin. ‘I saw you swimming earlier—you’re not too bad, for a woman. What say we have a race? I was a surf life-saving champ for years, so to make it fair I’ll let you have a good head start.’
He managed to incorporate some reference to his own superior attributes into almost every statement he made, thought Veronica, aware that to argue would invite more of his unwanted attention. She had offended his ego by ignoring him at their first meeting and he was determined to make her regret it, but she was extremely wary of his over-friendliness and constant preening, sensing that it was less to do with her than with his competitive need to assert his masculinity in front of an Alpha male. Unfortunately, he had all of Luc’s arrogance but none of his insight or critical self-awareness, and his inability to laugh at himself was a serious handicap to his charm.
On the second night of her stay, Veronica had allowed herself to be gently bullied into having dinner with the Reeds when they had some friends over, thinking it would give her the excuse to politely refuse future invitations. The extra company of strangers had provided some welcome camouflage, but she had spent an uncomfortable part of the evening trying to steer clear of Ross’s roving eyes and hands, and since then had taken care not to be left alone with him.
Now she was in precisely the kind of situation she had tried to avoid. Clad only in a skimpy, halter-necked tankini, she was acutely aware of her vulnerability.
‘I think I’ve been in long enough already—my skin is starting to get waterlogged.’ She laughed lightly to cover her unease, lifting a hand out of the water to waggle her slightly wrinkled fingers at him.
He grabbed her wrist, holding it playfully tight as he crabbed closer. ‘Oh, c’mon, you don’t really want to get out,’
he told her confidently. ‘Didn’t I see you playing pool tag yesterday with Sophie—how about a game of that with me?’
‘Sounds a bit too strenuous right now,’ she responded, her skin crawling at the thought. ‘I only came in to cool off. Um, where’s Ashley?’ she asked brightly, looking hopefully past him to the pathway that led from the house.
Her heart sank when his beefy, wet shoulders shrugged. ‘Who knows? She’s in one of her pets because it was her turn to help Zoe around the house.’ His mouth twisted in derision. ‘Can you believe that even after what happened to Melanie they don’t have a full-time housekeeper, just a cleaner who comes in a couple of times a week?’
‘Well, this is a family holiday home, not a full-service hotel,’ Veronica pointed out, using the distraction to twist her arm so that it slid out of his wet grasp. ‘Enjoy your swim!’ she added, attempting to dive around him without waiting for a reply.
But her triumphant relief was short-lived when he threw his body sideways so that she bumped into him, laughing as she surfaced, spluttering.
‘I thought you didn’t want to play,’ he said, starting to rough-house in earnest, taking an almost sadistic pleasure in the unevenness of the contest, his legs tangling with hers as his hands tried to drag her under.
‘I don’t—’ she said, threshing away from him, the back of her neck hitting the tiled edge of the pool, too intent on her furious defence to notice Sophie briefly appear from between the flowering oleanders and drop her towel as she turned to race back towards the house. ‘Go and find Ashley if you want a playmate—’
‘Aw, don’t be like that!’ He chased after her, still laughing, caging her with both arms against the plastered side of the pool. ‘You looked bored floating around by yourself. I just thought a big girl like you might be up for a little bit of fun—’
‘Not with you—’ Too late she realised the revulsion that had leaked into her voice was a direct attack on his vanity.
His laughter congealed into an ugly grin. ‘You suddenly got something better to do? Or should I say someone? You looked keen enough when you saw me dive in. Maybe you thought I was lover-boy—’
Something must have flickered in her eyes because his expression turned malicious as he realised his random spite had hit a mark. ‘You did!’ he crowed, thrusting his face aggressively towards hers to jeer: ‘You can stop acting holier than thou about Ashley and me if that’s what you’re up to. But you’re kidding yourself if you think a freckle-faced hick like you is anything special to him. He’s had more beautiful women than you’ve had hot dinners. Your sister, for one—’
Veronica went rigid. ‘That’s not true!’
‘Oh, yeah? Ask Ash! Melanie emailed her some pictures on their last visit to London, and they show Karen draped all over Ryder at some fancy dinner he took them to … You’re not going to tell me a guy like him is going to turn down a looker like your sister when she climbs into his lap to play kissy-face—’
‘It really isn’t any of my business,’ she said through stiff lips, but Ross had scented blood in the water and ripped into her with a shark-like tenacity.
‘It is if he’s trying to get into your pants as well,’ he snickered. ‘Maybe he gets a kick out of doing sisters. And then there’s that hot-and-heavy ménage à trois he’s got going in London that we’re all supposed to ignore. I don’t suppose he’s dished up all the dirty details to you about that …’ His sneering contempt was mixed with undercurrents of lustful envy.
It took all her control to maintain her frigid front. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
But her coolness only goaded him to greater excess. ‘If he’s such a hot stud you’d think that he wouldn’t have to sniff around after other men’s wives … or run away like a snivelling coward when he got caught, instead of standing up for himself like a real man—’
Veronica had had enough. He thought he could smear her with his vile thoughts with impunity, because she would be too ashamed to repeat them. Perhaps he was right, but that didn’t mean she had to meekly listen to his abuse.
She went to duck under one of his arms, only to have him lower it and say with nauseating menace, ‘Where do you think you’re going, honey?’
She was debating how effective a sharp knee in the groin would be, fearing the water resistance would be too great to land a telling blow, when she heard the slap of feet on the paving.
She looked up to see Luc and Sophie walking around the pool towards them, Sophie pink and slightly breathless in her bright blue swimsuit, Luc in cut-off jeans, shedding his patterned shirt and sunglasses onto one of the stone benches, revealing a sweaty torso and dust streaks on his face as he took a flat, shallow dive directly over their heads, arrowing to the other side and back under the water before popping up beside them with a lazy smile.
‘Hi, you two. What’s going on?’
‘Nothing much,’ said Ross, who had hastily dropped