She looked at him, her golden eyes troubled as doubts about his integrity flooded through her mind. “Why did you do it, Blaize?” she asked quietly.
He went very still, the dark eyes scouring hers. “Does it upset you?”
She turned away and went on brushing her hair, not wanting to lie to him. It did upset her. Yet, in another sense, if he hadn’t done it, they wouldn’t be where they were now. The problem was, she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
In a fast fluid movement, Blaize was off the bed and taking the brush from her hand. He dropped it on the dressing table and turned her towards him, drawing her into a gentle embrace. The dark eyes burned into hers, demanding that she listen, demanding belief.
“Tessa, you weren’t married to him,” he said softly. “I wanted you with me, not with some other man.” He grimaced in rueful self-mockery. “I wanted to be with you...to know what it was like to be close to you. That first night I wasn’t playing around. I hadn’t planned it. It...just happened.”
He frowned. “Tension. It was the tension that decided it. And you didn’t reject me. I’m sensitive to people...to vibrations. You may not think so, but I am. That’s why I’m successful at doing what I do. But if you had made one move to stop me, Tessa, I would have stopped.”
Would he have stopped? The doubt still lingered in her mind. Blaize went after what he wanted. He had told her so. What the truth of this was, she couldn’t tell. “So it was all my fault?” she asked, trying to read his mind.
“No, my darling.” He sighed, his eyes appealing for her understanding. “It was my need. I made all the moves. The fault was... is all mine. When I felt there was a chance for me, no way was I going to pass it up without trying. I wanted you, Tessa. And I knew, you see, that the tension wasn’t all mine.”
“No. It wasn’t all yours,” Tessa conceded. “The intimacy of the cottage... it was unnerving. And you...”
“What about me?” he asked, his eyes sharpening, probing with urgent intensity.
She felt the sudden rise in his tension but didn’t understand the cause of it. She smiled to take it away. “Well, I don’t want to boost your ego, but the plain truth is, you are my fantasy-lover material, Blaize.”
For some reason her reply increased his tension instead of abating it. His face tightened into a grim expression. However, before he made any response to her explanatory comment, the doorbell rang.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked tersely.
Tessa shrugged ignorance. “Might be a neighbour wanting to borrow something,” she said, and went to answer the summons, quite relieved to have a breathing space to sort through what was happening with Blaize.
It wasn’t a neighbour.
It was Grant Durham.
He pushed past her, thrust a page of newspaper in her face and burst into outraged speech. “Is this some horrible joke?” he demanded furiously, eyes glaring suspicion and accusation. “I give you time to cool down and come to your senses, and—”
“Who is this man, Tessa?”
Blaize Callagan’s voice whipped down the living room and curled Grant Durham around to face him. Grant gaped at him. As well he might. If looks could kill, Grant would have been slain on the spot.
“My ex-fiancé,” Tessa said briefly, extremely conscious of the explosive tension emanating from her new fiancé.
“Tessa is mine!” Grant burst out belligerently. “She’s been mine for years!”
Blaize started walking towards him, deadly intent in every step. He was bigger, taller, more robust and powerful than Grant.
“She is not yours anymore,” Blaize said very quietly. “You treated her badly. Beyond contempt. You don’t deserve her, you filthy gutter scum. You denigrated her. You upset her. You despised what you had.”
Grant lifted a hand in protest. “Now hold on a—”
Blaize grabbed the lapels of Grant’s suit coat and lifted him off his feet. “If you ever come near her again, I’ll smash your head in. And a few other parts, as well. Do you understand that, you slime bucket?”
“Look! You don’t understand!” Grant squawked. “I’ve got a new therapist—”
The expression on Blaize’s face, the violence emanating from him in black waves was frightening enough to Tessa, let alone his target. “You worm,” he raged. “You heap of green-tinged garbage. I’m going to—”
Tessa had to do something to stop it. There was no doubt what Blaize was going to do, and it was going to hurt Grant a great deal.
“Put him down, Blaize,” she appealed hastily.
“Why?” he growled.
“I don’t want you to hurt him.”
He stabbed a sharp look at her, saw her anxious concern, then with great reluctance set Grant on his feet.
“That’s better,” said Grant, pretending not to be more than ruffled. “Much more natural...”
“Please go, Grant,” Tessa slid in quickly. It was plain stupid of Grant to think he could twig a tiger by the tail. She could feel the coiled tension in Blaize. He was all set to pounce again. The dark eyes were black with barely repressed passions.
Grant perversely tried his luck again, his green eyes projecting the full blast of his lying charm. “I love you, Tessa.”
“Truly?” she tested coldly.
“Yes. Above everything else... I’d do anything for you.”
“Do you want me to be happy, Grant?”
“Yes. Of course I do, Tessa,” he said with vehement fervour.
“Then I’m sorry, Grant, but I don’t love you. And I’m happy with this man. I’m going to marry him. So if you truly want me to be happy...”
“But we’ve been together so long,” Grant argued passionately. “How can you be happy with someone else?”
Blaize growled a warning.
Grant threw a wary glance at him then quickly concentrated on Tessa again. “What am I going to do?”
“See your new therapist,” she advised.
“You’re going to need a lot of therapy if you don’t start moving,” Blaize promised him threateningly.
“Yes. I suppose that is the best thing,” Grant said nervously. He moved away from Blaize, reached the door, then looked at Tessa, pained bewilderment on his face. “You’re really going to be happy with him, Tessa?”
“I’m happy now, Grant,” she stated pointedly.