Virtue's Thief

By Nancy Henshaw

Lyle Rujas is arrogant, insulting, hot-tempered, and expects to be obeyed in all things. It will take more than his devilish good looks and vast fortune to make an intelligent professional woman like Hope Stanley tumble into his bed.

Why is this obnoxious man wasting his time on her? Why the interest in her father's business woes? Why the obsession with compact personal transport?

A stirring tale of love, environmentalism, financial irregularities and folding bicycles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9780244690496

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Virtue's Thief

Virtue's Thief

Nancy Henshaw

Copyright © 2018 by Nancy Henshaw

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

Chapter 1.

Hope Stanley knew she would be ostracised when she went to Elsa and Gerard Golding's party. Everybody at Abbotsmill believed that Hope's father had been running a scheme defrauding pensioners of their savings. And now he had disappeared

Hope was right. All Elsa's guests were treating her disdainfully. Except for one, and he was the one every woman in the house was trying to attract: a South American visitor; tall, darkly handsome Lyle Rujas with his haughty looks and reputation for romantic heroism.

Why was he pretending to know Hope so well, insisting they would be leaving the party together? She knew it was inviting danger, going home with the only man who had ever engulfed her in emotional turbulence every time she received a look from his hard black eyes.

Outside Elsa's house Hope was amazed and indignant to find that Lyle expecting her to drive him to his temporary home at Alderbury Bryan.

'I do not have a car,' he said with a contemptuous sneer.

'But you don't mind cadging a lift home,' said Hope scornfully, trying to despise this devastatingly attractive but unbelievably arrogant man. 'How did you get to Abbotsmill in the first place? Alderbury Bryan must be twenty miles away.'

'I do not have a gas guzzler,' he announced with a contemptuous sneer, giving Hope's sport car a disparaging look. 'I came by bicycle.'

For the first time she noticed the bicycle. If Lyle expect Hope to load the greasy thing into her pristine Chimera he could get a lift from some woman a lot more besotted than she was. However he seemed quite content to leave it propped against Elsa's balustrade.

Hope was determined to show how a car ought to be driven. Foxes and hedgehogs had to take their chance as she sped through the night as fast as she could.

'Oops, a badger,' remarked Lyle reprovingly, settling himself comfortably into the upholstery as she accelerated uphill in a burst of noisy but effective speed.

'I've never in my life killed or injured anything on the road  - human or animal,' said Hope, setting her jaw in determination. 'My reactions are abnormally fast.'

'Mine also,' he said with a sinister laugh.

They had arrived at a large thatched house, ominously silhouetted in the bright moonlight. Lyle needn't think she was going inside with him. He looked lethally virile as he swung himself out of the car.

'You are to meet my grandmother,' he proclaimed. 'She is Lady Graham.'

'A real live ladyship! Am I supposed to be thrilled?' Hope enquired sarcastically.

'Don't be spiteful,' he snarled. 'She hasn't long to live.'

How could Hope refuse to meet a dying woman?

Bad-temperedly she followed Lyle into the house and slammed her car keys on to the hall table, feeling she had walked into a woman-trap as the door snapped shut behind her.

Will Hope be forced to spend the night with this frighteningly exciting man? How will he retrieve his bicycle from Abbotsmill?

Chapter 2.

Hope Stanley is amazed that devastingly attractive Lyle Rujas hasn't got a car, only a bicycle. Against her better judgement she has driven him to the house where he is staying with his grandmother.

Hope couldn't help enjoying her meeting with Lyle's grandmother although the old lady was obviously very frail. It was plain that Lady Graham adored him although that didn't prevent her from telling him off for making Hope drive him home.

'Why don't you get yourself a decent car instead of tearing about on those ridiculous bicycles?' she scolded. 'When I was young it was your grandfather's Lamborghini that first attracted me to him.'

'You're quite right, Lady Graham,' said Hope, sneaking a look at Lyle's handsome profile. 'Bicycles are only suitable for stupid little boys who ride on pavements getting in everybody's way.'

'My women love me for myself alone,' pronounced Lyle, shooting a look at Hope that turned her insides into melted jelly. 'I'll take you upstairs now, grandmother, and let Alison put you to bed.'

Who was Alison? Hope felt a sharp pang she had never experienced before. Could it be jealousy?

Lyle lifted Lady Graham in his strong arms and carried her carefully from the room. How gentle he was with his sick, elderly grandmother. He would never treat a young woman like that. Masterful and tough as whipcord, he thought he was irresistible. Luckily Hope already detested him and wasn't going to stay in this house a moment longer.

Thank goodness she had her own transport. But when she went into the hall she found with horror that her car keys had disappeared. She waited in growing fury for Lyle to come downstairs.

'Give me back my keys, you despicable thief,' she hissed as he descended the stairs.

'They are under my grandmother's pillow,' he retorted with the smoothness of a deadly poisonous black snake.' He gave a wicked laugh. 'She enjoys a joke and thought it was an excellent idea to make sure you spent the night here. Tomorrow you will drive me to Abbotsmill to collect my bicycle.'

'I won't drive you a yard in any direction and if I see you and your bicycle again I'll wrap it round your neck,' declared Hope.

Lyle took her chin in his hand. 'You are one of the loveliest women I have ever seen, but don't worry. Tonight I don't need you with me. There will be other times.'

Irrationally Hope was disappointed. Naturally, nothing would have induced her to yield to this preposterous man's thinly veiled desire but she would have relished a really cracking row with him.

'Go upstairs,' he said, stroking her cheek with a brown hand that felt as hard as his powerful cyclist's thighs looked in their beautifully fitting trousers. 'First door on the left. I will send Alison to wake you early tomorrow morning.'

Hope rushed upstairs to the bedroom and slammed the door. Of course the lecherous beast was going to spend the night with Alison. She flung off her clothes and had a quick shower in the adjoining bathroom. The mirror showed how pretty she was with her cloud of dark curls, luminous blue eyes and creamy skin. No doubt Alison went cycling with Lyle when she wasn't wallowing with lustful abandon in his bed and Hope could just imagine what she looked like: a weatherbeaten face, great muscular legs and a really huge bottom. Most likely she sweated a lot and didn't use a deodorant.

Hope snuggled down in bed, her mind wide awake, remembering Lady Graham saying, 'Those bicycles.' Surely Lyle didn't have more than one. It was an absurd mode of transport for a man in his thirties, whether careering round the countryside or weaving in and out of town traffic endangering other road users.

When she