Master of Comus

by Charlotte Lamb

  Paul handed her a flat oval of pitta and a scoop of curdy goats' cheese pushed down inside the split bread. She gave him a polite little smile. 'Thank you.'

  He almost winced, his blue eyes stormy. 'For God's sake, Leonie! Stop looking at me as if I were the wolf and you were Little Red Riding Hood. I've said I'm sorry about last night. I know an apology is hardly sufficient, but what else can I say or do? We can't go on like this. I'm not a patient man. I couldn't stand this state of warfare for long.'

  'You can hardly blame me for feeling uneasy,' she pointed out, her voice husky.

  'You provoked me into that outburst last night! I would never have behaved like that Otherwise.'

  She had to accept the truth of this accusation. Had she never lost her head because she jumped to conclusions he would not have lost his head in his turn. She sighed. 'I know I behaved very foolishly, but I was feeling nervous. The house is so isolated, and I was strung up after the wedding...'

  'I realise that now,' he said gently.

  'I'm sorry it happened,' she said.

  'We both made fools of ourselves,' 'Paul murmured. 'Your mistake was more forgivable than mine, I realise.' He shot her a sidelong glance. 'Did I frighten you very much?'

  Her lids lowered to hide the expression of her eyes. 'You were rather overpowering.'

  He gave a harsh crack of laughter. 'Delightful English understatement! I take note of the implied irony.'

  A smile twitched reluctantly at her lips.

  Paul put out a slim brown hand. 'Pax?'

  She slowly laid her fingers on top of his. 'Yes. Pax.'

  'And we're friends again?'

  'Were we friends?"she asked drily."

  'Oh, Leonie,' he murmured reproachfully. 'Let us at least be friends! Surely we can be friends?'

  His blue glance made her laugh. 'You think you're irresistible, don't you, Paul?'

  He grinned lazily. 'Is that your considered opinion?'

  'My considered opinion is that you're very spoilt,' she told him. 'Too much money, too many women ...'

  His blue eyes teased. 'You resent the women?'

  She flushed. 'Your life is your own affair.' And she remembered angrily how she had surrendered last night and how he had said that he was Only teaching her a lesson, showing her that she was no different from all the other women in his life, that he could take her if he wished and she would be a willing victim. Beneath her calm exterior burned a desire for revenge on him for the shame he had inflicted on her. Never again, she vowed to herself, would he win that particular battle. She would die rather than lose her head again over him.

  They sat eating their food in the shade for a while, then Paul rose, stretching his long limbs. 'Time we moved on, I'm afraid. Up here the sun becomes unbearable once noon is past. We must get back down to the house.'

  The climb down was just as exhausting. Several times her feet slid from under her, and Paul's strong right arm came into service to catch and hold her. Each time she felt her heart stop at his touch, and each time she hated herself for her weakness.

  They reached the house under the full glare of the afternoon sun. Heat bounced back from the rocks, dazzling her eyes. The sun hung overhead like a great brass coin. Pain throbbed at the back of her neck and she longed for the darkness and shade of the house.

  'In Greece we find it most sensible to have a siesta in the afternoon,' he told her. 'Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap?'

  'What a delightful idea,' she groaned, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. 'Headache?' he said.

  'Mmm ...' she nodded, wincing with pain.

  He came behind her and drew her head back with his hands. She stiffened, but relaxed as he began gently massaging the back of her neck, his long slender fingers deftly manipulating her muscles, unlocking them from their painful rigidity. She felt the iron grip of the pain unfold link by link, the throbbing in her head decrease and the red glare behind her eyes die slowly away. A deep sigh wrenched at her. 'Oh, that's lovely ...'

  'I'm glad you like it, he whispered against her hair, his fingers still moving, but now with an intimate caressing movement which sent a wave of warm weakness down her spine.

  She hurriedly stepped away from him. 'Thank you. her tone was stiff. 'My headache has gone now. I'll go up and take that nap.'

  He watched her slender body move towards the stairs. Leonie glanced back once.. and caught a strangely serious look on his handsome face.

  The shutters were up over the little windows in the bedroom. The room was dark and slightly stuffy, but much cooler than the sun-ravaged hillside.

  She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. A few moments later Paul materialised beside her with a cup of tea. He grinned as he put it down beside her. 'I thought this would make you feel more at home!'

  She was touched. 'Oh, thank you! That's wonderful! Just what I need!'

  He nodded and went out. Leonie sipped the tea gratefully, letting the refreshing flavour circulate around her mouth which was dry and filled with the dust of the hillside.

  Moments later she was asleep, curled on her side like a child, one hand beneath her flushed cheek.

  She woke with a start, feeling something touch her skin. Her eyes flew open. Paul stood beside her, an amused look on his face.

  'You've slept like the dead. I've made our evening meal. Have a wash and come down to eat.' He indicated a tin bowl of steaming water standing on the little table beside her. 'I thought you might like some warm water, so I boiled the kettle for you.'

  'You're very thoughtful,' she said. 'Thank you.' Glancing at her watch, she was astounded by the time. 'Goodness! I have slept well!'

  'I shouldn't have taken you for such a long walk,' he said. 'You were exhausted, poor child.'

  He went back downstairs. Leonie slid off the bed, stripped off her clothes and washed slowly and enjoyably, her skin delighting in the warm caress of the water.

  Standing in her bra and panties, she hunted out a dress to wear, then a sound made her turn. Paul stood behind her, his eyes fixed on her. She flushed and instinctively pulled a dress down to cover herself with, bringing a faint smile to his mouth.

  'I've seen you in a bikini, remember,' he said sardonically. 'You are no less unclothed now.'

  'Would you please get out while I dress?'

  'I came to ask you to hurry. The meat will spoil if we don't eat soon.'

  'I won't be a moment.'

  He nodded, turned, then halted and said over his shoulder, 'You have an enchanting body, Leonie.'

  She flushed wordlessly. Then he was gone. Hastily she put on the dress, the only one Clyte had packed, a simple linen sleeveless dress she had made herself. The style suited her and she loved the gay lemon yellow colour, but she had had it for months and she wished she had something more exciting to wear tonight.

  Paul had cooked kebabs over the charcoal range; skewers of rosemary-flavoured lamb served on a bed of salad with boiled rice. Leonie congratulated him on his cooking and he grinned. 'Glad you like it.'

  There was the usual retsina with the meal. She was beginning to like the wine how. The unusual flavour was growing on her. After her third glass Paul hesitated, the bottle poised. 'Sure you want another? It's deceptively mild, you know.'

  'I'm totally unaffected by it,' she said cheerfully, holding up her glass. She wanted to chase away the faint depression which was threatening her, and Paul's suggestion that she might find the wine too strong irritated her.

  He shrugged and poured her another glass. Then he got up and produced a cassette player powered by batteries. A moment later dreamy music filtered through the room and Leonie sighed with pleasure.

  'That's nice.'

  Paul pulled her up out of the chair. 'Dance with me,' he murmured, his arms sliding round her.

  They moved slowly round the dark little room. The glow of the candles and the faint red of the fire showed them where they were going, but Leonie found the heat and stuffiness of the room making her drowsy once mor
e. She sleepily let her head fall against Paul's broad shoulder, her arms locked round his neck. His thighs moved against her, his hands pressing her closer.

  'This is nice, she murmured drowsily.

  'Isn't it?' said Paul, his mouth against her hair, one hand slowly stroking her back.

  'You dance very well,' she said.

  He laughed softly. 'Do I? Your hair smells of sunshine and grass.'

  'That's nice, she mumbled, her face pressed against his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin material of his shirt.

  'Leonie, you're not falling asleep, are you?' he asked close to her ear, bending forward.

  'No , certainly not, she said indignantly, her knees slowly bending beneath her.

  Paul laughed as she slid downwards, and scooped her up into his arms, lifting her like a doll, her black head thrown back. 'My God, you're drunk! That wine was too much for you.'

  'Nonsense,' she said faintly. The room was dizzily spinning around her as Paul carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He paused, holding her, looking down at her flushed and sleepy face.

  'Two glasses of retsina are your limit, I suspect,' he said with amusement.

  'I am not drunk,' she said with great dignity.

  His face was very close, the blue eyes brilliant beneath their fair brows. 'No?'

  His mouth brushed hers lightly, the teasing flick of a butterfly kiss. Invaded by a warm pleasure, Leonie closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his mouth again, but he bent and laid her on the bed instead.

  She locked her arms around his neck. 'Paul,' she whispered invitingly. 'Kiss me goodnight...'

  He hesitated, then slowly lowered his mouth. Their mouths clung, passion flaring between them. Paul lay down beside her and began to kiss her more intently, his mouth parting her lips and sending shivers of weak delight down her spine.

  'Darling,' he whispered against her neck. 'Oh, darling ...' His hands wandered caressingly over her limp, relaxed limbs from breast to thigh while he kissed her mouth again then began to kiss her throat and shoulders. Leonie's eyes closed. She sighed once or twice, pleasurably.

  Paul raised himself to look down at her, groaning. 'You shouldn't have drunk all that retsina. Have you forgotten we took a vow of non-consummation? Darling, I'm not made of stone. You're so sweet and desirable, and I...' He broke off abruptly at a sound from her. 'What the—? Leonie?' He peered closer, turning her head towards his eyes, then swore softly under his breath. 'Asleep! My God! I shall go out of my mind if this goes on...'

  He lifted her heavy body with one arm while he stripped off her dress, then slid her under the sheet. She turned over in the bed so that her face burrowed into the pillow, her arms going up to clasp it confidingly. Paul touched the sleek black hair gently, then moved towards the stairs, a frustrated grimace on his face. Downstairs he stared at the unfinished retsina, then, with a groan, picked it up and drained it into a glass and swallowed it. Moments later silence fell over the whole house as they both slept.

  Leonie woke next morning with a feeling of happy contentment. She had slept deeply all night, and she had a distinct impression that her dreams had been delightful ones, although she could not actually remember any of them.

  She stretched, yawning, then stiffened as she realised she was only wearing her bra and pants.

  Frowning, she sat up and looked round the room. Her dress was hung neatly over a chair. Yet she could not remember undressing last night. She thought back carefully. The last thing she could positively recall was dancing with Paul in the dark.

  What had happened after that? She shuddered to imagine. Surely Paul would not have taken advantage of the fact that she had drunk too much?

  She dressed in jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs. Paul was still asleep, rolled in the woven bedspread beside the fire, his honey-smooth blond hair just visible. Leonie went out to the stream with the coffee pot and a towel. After washing briskly, she hurried back and put the coffee on while she sliced some bread. While she was asleep yesterday, Paul had fed the hens and retrieved their eggs, so she decided to boil some of the eggs for breakfast. They were tiny brown speckled eggs and looked inviting when they were ready in their yellow eggcups. The coffee ready, the table laid, she went over to arouse Paul.

  He did not move when she said his name, so she bent over him to rouse him and found herself being pulled down on top of him.

  'Paul!' she spluttered crossly. 'Let me go!'

  His lips sought hers, and weakly, hating herself, she yielded. Warm, friendly, undemanding, the kiss was certainly pleasant, but she was alarmed to consider the implications lying behind it. What exactly had happened last night? Obviously, something had taken place, or why should he believe his kiss would be accepted?

  She pushed him away, sat up, irritably tidying her hair, which had become unravelled during their little tussle. 'Breakfast is ready. Why don't you go and wash?'

  He grinned. 'I'll do that, honey. Don't start without me.'

  She sat at the table, sipping her steaming coffee. Paul was back a few moments later, fully dressed, his face glowing from the cool stream water. He dropped a light kiss on her head as he passed.

  'Good morning again, darling.'

  'Don't call me that!' she snapped.

  He slid a sidelong look at her, brows raised ironically. 'Sorry, I didn't know you objected.'

  'I dislike the use of endearments except when they're sincerely meant.'

  'What makes you think I'm not sincere?'

  She regarded him drily. 'Need you ask?'

  'Oh, my reputation! You're like the elephant, aren't you? You never forget.' Then a smile danced along his handsome mouth. 'Except under Very special circumstances.'

  Hot colour burned in her cheeks. 'What happened last night?' she demanded huskily.

  The blue eyes were amused. 'You don't remember?'

  'Would I ask if I did?'

  'Well now, that rather depends on whether you wanted to remember, doesn't it?'

  'Why shouldn't I want to remember?' she asked, appalled.

  He shrugged, one blue eye watching her secretly. 'How do I know?' He began to eat his breakfast, slicing off the top of his egg with one dexterous blow in a way which made her shiver. He was altogether too pleased with himself this morning. She had to know what really happened.

  Slowly, she said, 'Well, I only remember dancing with you.'

  He lifted her hand to his lips with a practised little bow. 'What came after that was much more enjoyable. What a pity you don't remember it!'

  Grimly, she asked, 'Paul, for the last time, what did happen?'

  He tasted his coffee and gave a sigh of pleasure. 'Mm ... quite delicious. You make good coffee. I'm glad about that. I' m a coffee addict and I..

  'Paul!' Her nerves at snapping point, she broke in angrily.

  He looked at her innocently. 'What's the matter?'

  'Last night,' she repeated.

  'You were enchanting,' he said.

  She took a deep breath, her passionate face stormy. Her fingers curled around the coffee pot handle. Paul watched apprehensively.

  'You aren't going to throw that, are you, darling?'

  'If you don't get to the point ... yes!'

  'You want the details?' He pretended to be doubtful. 'All the details?'

  'Every single damned detail!'

  'Well, we danced for a while...'

  'I remember that. Get on with it.'

  'I warned you about the retsina, you know. I'm afraid you were too headstrong. You were, to put it politely, just the tiniest bit tight.'

  Grimly she nodded. 'That much is obvious.'

  'Your legs gave way suddenly and I carried you up to bed. But you were very affectionate.' He gave her one of his sidelong, teasing, smiles. 'I must remember that retsina makes you so very warm and loving.'

  'Devil!' she exploded. 'So you took advantage of...'

  'Darling girl,' he protested. 'You wouldn't let me

  go.'
/>   Scarlet, she bit her lip. 'And so?' she asked hoarsely.

  'So ...' his voice was smooth, 'I kissed you and so on.'

  'The "and so on" bit interests me,' she said tautly.

  He grinned. 'I thought it might.' He laughed. 'Your face! No, Leonie, I did not consummate our marriage last night, tempted though I certainly was by your delightful invitation ...'

  'Why, you ...' she bit back the words hovering on her tongue. Relief flooded her—relief and a certain secret feeling of pique. He said she had been inviting. Why then had he resisted the invitation? Presumably because he had not wanted her. Well, she was relieved and delighted, of course. Of course...

  Paul was drinking his coffee. She glanced at him. 'I'm sorry I embarrassed you,' she said tightly. 'Obviously I was too drunk to know what I was doing.'

  'You didn't embarrass me,' he said lightly.

  'Good of you to say so ,' she retorted.

  'You were rather sleepy, very friendly and entirely delightful,' he said easily. 'If you want the absolute truth, I would have stayed and made love to you all night if you hadn't fallen asleep about five minutes after I started kissing you.'

  'Oh.' Her fingers trembled. 'I fell asleep?'

  'Out like a light.' He gave her an amused smile. 'I may say it nearly drove me mad. There you were in my arms, as soft as a kitten, and all I could do was tiptoe away.'

  She pushed her coffee cup away with an abrupt motion. 'Paul, this can't go on. It was a mistake to come up here. We're too isolated. We should have gone to Paris, after all.'

  'Too late now,' he said lightly.

  'We could say we'd changed our minds, take the next plane to Paris.'

  'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'It would cause too much comment if we suddenly came back from here. We have to stay for the full week.'

  'I can't!' She almost wailed.

  'Just stay off the retsina,' he advised gravely.

  Leonie gave an outraged gasp and stood up. 'You ... you ... God grant me patience with you!'