Dangerous Discovery

CHAPTER ONE

ESTELLE lowered the branch a fraction and peered cautiously through the lush green leaves. The voices had made her curious, and despite the thudding of her heart and the sick, nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach she had found herself hopping over the debris of the crumbling red brick wall, and carefully, oh, so carefully, picking her way through the tangle of undergrowth to gaze at the scene ahead.

It was like something out of a film; shimmering candles, sparkling evening dresses on glamorous women, offset handsomely by the luxurious darkness of the men’s dinner-jackets and the deep green of the shrubbery that clothed the walls of the ancient old manor house behind. Another world, another lifestyle. Light-years away from all that Estelle had ever experienced.

Instinctively she knew who Hunter Deveraux was; Connie’s brief but passionate description could apply to no one else. Tall and dark, with a brooding, imposing presence that arrested Estelle’s attention, that made her own breath catch automatically in her throat, made her stomach turn a weird and inexplicable somersault...

He sat at the head of the long table on the terrace, his fingers curled expansively around a glass, surveying the sophisticated ensemble before him with a cool, almost detached eye.

He was more handsome than she had expected— more handsome than any man she had ever set eyes on; in his late twenties, she guessed, black hair, a bone-structure that could be called nothing less than superb, broad, muscular shoulders... Estelle gulped a breath and found herself conscious of the fact that there was more to his physical presence than simply stunning good looks. Even from this distance, she could sense some indefinable quality, an aura of superiority and authority that was evident in every slight inclination of his head, every murmured word and slow; lazy smile.

I hate him. The utter certainty of the statement, of the knowledge, shocked Estelle as it flew unbidden into her head. She had allowed herself no feelings on the subject of Hunter up to this point. She had valiantly refused to apportion blame. His was just a name in a diary, a name that now she wished she had not discovered. Her sister Connie, she imagined, had chosen the way she wanted things to be, had decided to keep his identity secret for reasons best known only to herself. But now, being here, this close, feeling, seeing, knowing the sort of man he was, detecting the open arrogance and the smouldering vitality...

Estelle shook her head a little and released a slow, steadying breath. I must not get emotional, she told herself. I must not jump to conclusions. I must stay calm and detached and think everything through properly.

She gazed down at the soft downy head as it stirred against her chest, carefully adjusting the baby sling, which was useful but becoming far too small for such a thriving, bouncing baby, to a more comfortable position, and knew with all her heart that that was impossible. The resemblance was there, of course: the startling coal-black eyes and uniquely shaped mouth that were so often commented on by friends and smiling women in the street,

She heaved a tense sigh and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Innocent, sleeping Joseph was irrevocably tied to the dynamic vision of the man that now sat less than thirty feet from her. Hunter, the father of this helpless baby—no wonder Connie had remained silent.

‘I won’t have that sort of talk at my table, Josh! You’re speaking out of turn and you know it!’

Estelle’s eyes flew back towards the house. Hunter had risen from his seat. Both hands were placed square on the table, every sharp line of his body portraying anger as he leaned forward and pinioned some poor devil with an expression that caused Estelle to catch her breath and shake in her shoes even at this distance.

‘Well? Do I get an apology?’

That voice. Estelle bit nervously at her bottom lip. So raw, so harsh and unforgiving. I must go, she thought swiftly, wrappng her arms protectively around Joseph’s plump body. I shouldn’t be here. If he finds me... The thought didn’t bear thinking about but still she lingered, watching, transfixed by the atmosphere, mesmerised by this man’s dominance over his guests, aware of startled faces, hastily apologetic words from the man who, for one reason or another, had caused so much displeasure from his host.

And then Hunter was picking up his glass, throwing his dark head back to down the amber-coloured liquid in one savage gulp, scraping his chair roughly out of the way and... Estelle’s eyes grew wide with horror, her body stiffening with complete shock...and then marching across the smooth impeccable green expanse of lawn towards the little copse of trees. Towards her.

She turned sharply away, ducking under the low branches, cursing silently as her foot caught on a protruding root, causing her to stumble awkwardly through the carpet of dead leaves and old moss-covered logs. She was going too fast, making too much noise. Her footsteps had been slow before, picking their path carefully. Now they fumbled their way through, clumsily cracking first one and then another twig beneath her feet so that the noise sounded like gunshots in the still evening air.

And then, worst of all, Joseph’s startled wail, sounding like a siren as she stumbled again, turning Estelle cold with panic as she hastily scrabbled through the undergrowth towards the broken-down brick wall.

‘Hold it right there!’

She pulled up sharply at the sound of the commanding voice, rigid with anxiety, and waited, not daring to turn around, but knowing with all certainty that this deep, forceful bark could only belong to one man.

Hunter Deveraux.

‘Now turn around.’

Estelle hesitated, closing her eyes in despair, wondering if she dared defy him, dared run on jellied legs to her bicycle which was parked down at the roadside and only a few tantalising feet away.

She didn’t. With a thudding heart and a protective squeeze of Joseph’s warm body, she turned and prepared herself to meet the full force of Hunter’s gaze.

His eyes were like deepest night, dark and impenetrable, fixing her to the spot with cool dislike. He surveyed her with an expression that revealed open suspicion, his glance slowly taking in every inch of her face, her slim, lithe figure, scanning her tousled auburn locks and creamy complexion, causing a hot flush of panic and fear as his eyes rested fleetingly on Joseph’s plump body.

At last he deigned to speak and his voice was as cold and as hard as she had expected. ‘You do know you’re trespassing on private property, I presume?’

Estelle took a shaky breath and then gave a brief nod.

‘For what purpose?’

She swallowed, licking at her lips in a totally nervous gesture, fully aware of the disruptive, mind-numbing force of his presence. She found her eyes wandering of their own accord over the sharp, crisp outline of his suit, lingering on the stunning eyes, the hard, tight line of his mouth...she found herself wondering how it had been between this man and Connie, how the seemingly impossible had come about...

‘Did you hear what I said?’

Estelle jumped at the insistent tone, backing away a little towards the wall. He looked angry, standing there, so menacing and forceful. ‘I...I...’ She struggled to think with a mind that refused to work. What could she say? What would appease this man and get her off his property and out of his sight in the shortest possible time?

Swiftly she decided that the truth, or at least the beginnings of the truth, were her best and only bet. ‘I...I just saw the gap in the wall, heard the voices...’ Her pitifully small voice, husky with tension, trailed to a feeble halt. Did she really expect a man like Hunter to be satisfied with so inadequate an explanation?

.‘And that’s the best you can do?’

She saw the derisive curl of his mouth, heard the disbelieving tone. ‘I...I just wanted to see—’

‘So you were watching us through the trees?’ His voice was like a razor, cutting her dead. The dark brows drew together suspiciously. ‘Come on! Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’

Estelle scuffed her feet awkwardly on the ground. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.’ She gulped a breath. ‘Now...please, I...I really think I should be getting back—’ On shaking legs she turned determinedly towards the crumbling wall and began to step over the fallen branch but immediately found her arm gripped firmly by a hand that was large and strong and totally immovable.

‘Not so fast, young lady. You’re going to give me a better explanation than that!’ He brought his other free hand around and tilted Estelle’s chin up, so that she had no choice other than to look straight into the dark, disconcerting eyes. ‘Now tell me what exactly is going on here.’

His fingers were cool and firm against her skin and yet heat surged through her body at an alarming rate as he held Estelle’s face captive. He had, she noted absently, the most luxuriant black lashes, a tiny scar just visible on his brow-bone, fine lines around the corners of his eyes that surely could never in this world have been caused by laughter...

‘Well? Answer me!’

’N-nothing!‘ Estelle’s voice gave away her desperation as she tore her frantic eyes from his face. ‘Nothing at all! Please, if you’ll just let me go—’

‘I think not,’ he replied tersely. ‘You may imagine playing the innocent will get you out of this situation, but fluttering your eyelashes and acting the startled little girl isn’t going to work with me.’

‘Will you let go of me this instant?’ Estelle cried despairingly, unable to endure the close and telling appraisal a moment longer. ‘You have no right to treat me like this! No right at all!’

‘I have every right,’ came the clipped reply, ‘and don’t you forget it. Privacy in my own home, above everything else, is sacrosanct, and I take a very dim view of anyone who enters my property without permission. Do I make myself clear?’

Estelle concentrated hard on the ground at her feet and nodded dumbly.

‘Look at me!’ The command was quiet and menacing and she jerked her head up sharply to find jet eyes boring into her. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

‘Look, I never meant any harm—’ Estelle began.

‘And how am I to know that that is the truth?’ he enquired sharply. ‘You may look like a sweet, innocent young female, but you’re as nervous as hell and you have an expression that looks as if it has something to hide!’ He paused a second and his eyes fell on the route Estelle had used to get in. ‘That’s quite a steep climb up here from the road below; it must have been difficult with a baby in tow. You were quite determined to get up here, weren’t you? Weren’t you?’ he repeated insistently, pulling Estelle firmly away from the wall.

‘I...I told you before, I was just curious.’

‘To see what? Come on!’ he added irritably. ‘Start talking. Tell me what it was that interested you so much you had to scrabble up a bank and battle your way over a wall, through fallen-down trees—’

‘I’ve told you!’ Estelle’s voice sounded shaky. Joseph wasn’t crying any more—indeed she suspected he had seemingly done the impossible and gone back to sleep—but she felt near to tears herself. ‘Now please! I just want to go home.’

‘And you will do,’ Hunter replied with a coolness that made Estelle shiver, ‘once you tell me why you were spying on myself and my guests.’

‘I was not spyingl’ she cried swiftly. ‘That sounds so...so dreadful.’

‘What would you call it, then?’

The flush- on Estelle’s face grew hotter and more intense. She was shocked by the hard determination in his expression and stared open-mouthed for several seconds as words and explanations were considered and disregarded at speed. ‘Stop bullying me!’ she cried frantically. ‘Just because you’ve had an argument with one of your guests and you’re in a bad mood—’

It was not the best thing to say. Estelle realised that as soon as she saw Hunter’s grim expression. ‘Right, that’s it!’ he barked. ‘This way.’

Estelle jerked sharply as his fingers scorched the skin of her bare arm in a determined grasp. ‘Take your hands off me! You can’t do this!’

‘I’m doing it,’ he informed her flatly. ‘Now come with me. You’ve managed to arouse my worst instincts. I think it’s best if perhaps the police take an interest in what you do or rather don’t have to say.’

‘You...you wouldn’t! You can’t be serious?’ Estelle’s eyes widened, portraying all of her anxiety and horror.

‘Why not?’ he replied coolly. ‘After all there have been a spate of break-ins and burglaries in this area. How am I to know that you’re not part of some organised gang on a recce of the premises?’

Estelle snorted and threw him a look that showed all of her disbelief. ‘But that’s absolutely ridiculous!’ she cried. ‘I’ve got a baby with me and I came on a bicycle—they’re hardly the hallmarks of a successful thief, are they? And...and anyway,’ she continued angrily, ‘how dare you insinuate that I’m anything other than honest? It’s...it’s preposterous!’ She felt her eyes, wide with outright anger now, filling with tears and hastily lowered her head so that Hunter wouldn’t detect her weakness.

‘Come on back to the house!’ His voice was firm. ‘And you can stop crying! Turning on the waterworks isn’t going to make the slightest bit of difference to me. I’m a hard bastard at the best of times, and as you so rightly pointed out I’m already in a foul mood, so—’

‘I am not crying!’ Estelle snapped furiously, raising her face to his. ‘I’m angry. I’m disgusted. I can’t believe you’re treating me like this. But I’m not crying.’

‘Good!’ he retorted crisply, his dark eyes fiashing. ‘Because I can’t stand women who start snivelling at the drop of a hat.’

‘You have no right to do this to me!’ Estelle declared frantically, totally at a loss as to how to stop him leading her firmly in the direction of the house, apart from resorting to drastic measures like screaming and kicking. ‘No right at all!’

‘Be quiet,’ he commanded, ‘and follow me! You knowingly trespassed on my property and now you are going to have to face the consequences.’

Estelle despaired as the eyes of his many guests turned and burned into her fragile figure as she was escorted across the lawn towards the terrace. They had, she detected through lowered lashes, risen from the long, crystal-laden table and were now standing or sitting in various informal groups watching her. with expressions that ranged from