by Lynne Graham
He swept her deftly out of the older man’s grasp. ‘Your hostess will soon be spitting tacks.’
‘She ought to put a spiked collar and chain on him, but I could have coped without the rescue party,’ Kitty said acidly.
‘I’d noticed that Heaven was in the ascendant this evening. Drew doesn’t know how to put a cap on a volcano. Where is he, by the way?’
She tore her hungry eyes from the dark splendour of his features and knew, knew with the bitter certainty of complete self-knowledge, that this moment was what she had been waiting for all evening. ‘He’s gone to get me a drink. I didn’t see you earlier.’
‘Paula and I were late arrivals. Tell me, do you usually dance a foot away from your partner?’ A lean hand settled to her hip, urging her closer, forcing her hands up to his broad shoulders. It was a taste of heaven and hell in one go, the thin fabric of her gown no protection against the virile thrust of his hard thighs. A searing, irradiating heat sent a shaft of lust through her in a hot, ungovernable force that swept her with dizzying weakness. The pagan beat of hunger was in her veins, shattering all self-control, melding her to him in an anguish of desire.
The music ended and he severed her cruelly from the source of that unbearable need. She blinked rapidly, her pupils unfocused, her breath a feathery insufficiency to her lungs. Even so, sixth sense warned her that many eyes were watching them. With a sparkling smile she moved blindly away from him.
Isabel was waiting for her. ‘Drew’s been called out to some pedigree pig, of all things!’ She giggled. ‘He said he should be back in an hour. Poor Drew. Nothing ever goes right for him. He always pulls the short straw.’
‘Does he?’ Kitty wasn’t listening. Paula, vibrant in scarlet that enhanced her lush, dark colouring, was dancing with Jake. Exuding animation, she wound her arms possessively round his neck and reached up to press her mouth briefly to his, flinging her head back again afterwards with an air of almost defiant triumph.
Kitty snatched a glass from a passing waiter’s tray, the sick bile of jealousy like a thousand knives in her stomach.
‘Drew’s my cousin, you know.’ Isabel leant confidentially closer. ‘He’s nuts about Paula but he doesn’t have a chance at the moment. Paula’s hunting for bigger game, and in her place I guess I would too. Jake is so incredibly sexy,’ she savoured. ‘All that brooding intensity matched to that don’t-give-a-damn air and those stunning looks of his make him an irresistible challenge to our sex. Paula’s no wiser than the rest of us.’
Kitty met Isabel’s faintly malicious stare levelly. ‘Jake and I are old friends.’
‘If George had a friendship like that, I’d claw her eyes out. You leave Paula at the starting-line.’ Isabel laughed. ‘I could feel the heat from here, but then Jake prefers blondes. Liz was a blonde, small, rather like you at first glance.’
The words hung in the air and a tiny pulse flickered betrayal at the base of Kitty’s throat. ‘Really?’
Isabel studied her intently. ‘Yes, it was the oddest marriage. She would have tied herself to the railway track for him but she couldn’t handle that aloof quality of his. She tried to make him jealous and he didn’t bat a magnificent eyelash. Women have been known to dash themselves to pieces against that brand of bedrock self-assurance. Jake is not a pussycat you stroke unwarily.’
Isabel’s brother, Mike, crashed the one-sided conversation to ask Kitty to dance. She assented with relief and it was another hour before she was able to evade a constant stream of eager partners. She freshened up in a bathroom with grotesque gold dolphin taps, and on the way back to the party wandered into the cool, inviting depths of greenery in the conservatory off the hall.
The champagne had gone flat in her bloodstream. Her head felt dull, heavy. She practised an increasingly weary smile that meant nothing. Rather like you…rather like you. Her teeth clenched. Oh, sweet lord, was she never to be free of this ceaseless craving?
‘God may have created woman…’
Kitty spun. Jake emerged from the shadowy tangle of jungle vines obscuring the door. ‘But Maxwell created Kitty,’ he concluded softly.
‘Yes.’ It was an answering taunt. ‘He taught me how to walk, he taught me how to talk, he even taught me how to dress— ‘
‘Maxwell’s little doll,’ he incised pityingly.
‘I don’t think that’s funny!’
He released his breath slowly. ‘It’s not funny, it’s very sad. Do you enjoy yourself when you’re acting your heart out? Of course, they’re loving it in there. Larger than life is what the audience wanted and got, but I don’t appreciate the show even if it was all put on for my benefit.’
‘Your benefit?’ she railed tempestuously.
He smiled at her slowly. ‘Don’t kid yourself, Kitty. Heaven could sink a knife into me and laugh but you’d lunge for the Band-aid,’ he murmured. ‘I think it’s time we called a truce.’
Her mouth twitched against her volition. ‘I wasn’t aware we were fighting.’
He captured her easily with one powerful hand, his other catching a handful of hair that shimmered like a river of silver over his long fingers. The tawny glow of his eyes mesmerised her. ‘You can’t fight yourself, Kitty. You’ll only tear yourself in two. And if you fight me, you’ll lose, because I’ll always be stronger than you are.’ He lowered his head, the tip of his tongue tracing the tremulous curve of her lower lip with teasing provocation. ‘I’ll take you riding tomorrow afternoon. Heaven doesn’t ride, does she?’
His mouth was a tantalising whisper from hers and she shivered violently. ‘No.’
He released her. ‘Thank God for that. Tell me, do you think George plays out his Tarzan fantasies in here on these vines?’
She burst out laughing.
‘We really ought to go and look for our respective partners.’ He gave her a wolfish grin and her world tilted on its axis.
Drew was in the hall, chatting to George. He spent the entire drive home apologising. ‘Let me treat you to lunch on Friday,’ he urged, and he had such a hangdog look that she agreed.
It took her forever to fall asleep, and when she did she had a dream filled with such explicit imagery that she awoke in a tangle of bedclothes, moist-skinned and shaken. She would have tied herself to a railway track for him. Kitty squeezed her eyes tight shut, racked by hatred of her own weakness. It was almost noon when she awoke again.
She had just finished lunch when her car was delivered back. The mechanic thrust her keys into her hands. ‘It’s running fine now, Miss Colgan. It wasn’t a big job.’
‘How much do I owe you?’
He looked at her in surprise. ‘Jake Tarrant took care of that this morning.’
Her skin flamed. That would be a titbit to be savoured in the post office. How dared he do that? She stalked out to her car. A heavy night of rain had banished the snow and she drove over to Torbeck in record time.
Jake strode out of the stables, clad in a pair of tight, disreputable jeans and a shirt. ‘I was going to pick you up in half an hour.’
‘I’m not over here to go anywhere with you,’ Kitty assured him vehemently. ‘I’m only here to settle my garage bill.’ She slapped her cheque-book down on the bonnet of her car. ‘What do I owe you?’
He dug a brown hand carelessly into the pocket of his jeans. ‘You can start with an apology.’
‘An apology?’ she mocked coldly.
‘Hanvey won’t release a car until the bill is paid. I saved you the hassle of going to the garage and you got your car back quicker. The receipt’s still in the surgery and I can’t recall the amount offhand,’ he advanced curtly.
She put her cheque-book away. ‘It seems I misunderstood.’
‘Something you excel at.’ He cast her a grim glance and disappeared back into the stables.
Kitty hesitated, reached for her car door and then hovered. She walked into the stables. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Do you really have to seize on every excuse to pick an argument and keep m
e at a distance? Or is it just something you can’t help?’ he shot at her.
She moved forward, suddenly desperately uncertain of herself. ‘I said I was sorry.’
He surveyed her reflectively and then straightened from the black mare he was saddling up. ‘I should make you do this for yourself.’
‘Jake, I can’t stay,’ she muttered.
He studied her with unyielding calm and she started to try and justify her announcement. ‘I haven’t got any boots.’
‘Try the tack-room,’ he advised gently.
‘You’re not any tidier than you used to be,’ she called as she rustled through the dusty collection of riding boots, and all the time, I shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t be doing this was racing through her brain.
‘How long is it since you’ve been riding?’
She swallowed. ‘Grant has a ranch in Texas. We usually go there in the spring.’
Jake led a big grey stallion out of the stable and swung gracefully up into the saddle. The little mare pranced skittishly and Kitty tightened the reins. ‘What do you call her?’
‘Misty.’
‘Is she Merrill’s?’
His firm mouth twisted. ‘She sometimes rides her, but I bought her for Liz.’
Once they left the fields behind, Jake gave the stallion his head and Kitty followed suit, as confident in the saddle as he had taught her to be. Misty responded with an enthusiastic gallop which still failed to keep her anywhere near the powerful stallion. Out on the moor, Jake reined in and waited for them. ‘It’s going to rain. We should turn back.’
‘No, I’m enjoying myself,’ she protested.
‘All right, we’ll head for the Tor.’ He indicated the overhanging rocks that had transformed the brow of the hill into a cliffside. ‘We’ll get some shelter there.’
‘How’s Tina doing?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yesterday she was down with a twenty-four-hour flu bug, but she’s fine this morning,’ he told her, interpreting her anxious glance.
‘She’s very…shy,’ Kitty selected carefully.
He dealt her a perceptive scrutiny. ‘Liz wasn’t much of a mother. Once the novelty of a baby wore off, she found child-rearing a drag. Tina was only two when Liz walked out. It made her very insecure.’
Kitty’s head was swimming. The assumption of years were taking a beating. ‘Liz left you?’
‘Liz was a spoilt and very demanding only child. When we married I was up to my eyes in work and responsibilities.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t have the time to give her the attention she wanted so she looked for it elsewhere. Her flirtations were intended to make me sit up and take more notice of her but I’m afraid I’m not one of Pavlov’s dogs.’
Kitty bent her head. ‘No,’ she acknowledged.
He smiled grimly. ‘I was twenty-three years old and I didn’t have a lot of patience. There just wasn’t enough of me to go round. Liz raved about the country life until she experienced the reality and then she wanted me to sell up and move. At the time I couldn’t have afforded to do that. I worked an eighteen-hour day and I came home to hysterical scenes. At some stage I stopped listening to her. I switched off.’
‘I don’t think you can blame yourself for that,’ she whispered ruefully.
His nostrils flared. ‘Can’t I? Liz lived on the periphery of my life and she knew it. Having Tina was a last-ditch attempt at a reconciliation. It didn’t work,’ he confessed harshly. ‘Liz felt trapped by Tina and she had an affair. To tell you the truth, I didn’t give a damn when I found her out.’
Kitty paled under the fierce challenge of his dark eyes as he continued, ‘Sometimes I hated her for the way she treated Tina. When she left, she never once came back to visit her. Tina was devastated. I started divorce proceedings. Liz phoned me up in a passion to tell me that she was leaving the man she was with and coming back. She was heading for Torbeck when she crashed her car.’
‘That wasn’t your fault,’ Kitty argued. ‘It takes two to mess up a relationship.’
His golden gaze narrowed. ‘It also takes two to make one work again.’
She evaded that look. Ominous drops of rain were dampening her cheeks. ‘I think we need that shelter now fast,’ she teased.
She reached the Tor a minute behind him. He lifted her down out of the saddle. ‘Hell, you’re soaked!’ he grated angrily.
The rain lashed down a few feet away, streaming off the weathered canopy of rock above. She shivered in the clammy embrace of her thick wool sweater and blinked the moisture out of her eyes. Jake stripped off his weatherproof jacket. ‘Take it off.’
‘I’ve got nothing on underneath it!’
An earthy grin slashed his damp features and her heartbeat accelerated. ‘I’m not about to offer to stand out in the rain.’
‘It’ll dry on me,’ she muttered, folding her arms.
‘Tease,’ he whispered, draping his jacket round her shoulders.
‘I think this is on for the day. There’s no point in hanging on here.’ Rounding breathlessly, Kitty was trapped in the circle of his arms. The stroking caress of his thumb laid her lips apart. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said jerkily. ‘I hate it when you touch me.’
‘God, what a liar you are,’ he murmured appreciatively and the hot, hard seizure of his mouth annihilated her response with a savage demand that both tortured and triumphed over her. She went up in flames, heat burning between her thighs, her hands clinging to him, tugging him feverishly closer, wanting to be absorbed into his flesh.
A few feet away Misty snickered restively and Kitty reared back from him, wildeyed. He reached for her again. ‘Relax.’
Kitty backed off. ‘No! I won’t let you do this to me!’
Mahogany eyes fastened on to her in an almost physical current. ‘Do you ever intend to take responsibility for your own sexual urges? Or are you always going to be the victim of elements and circumstances nobody could possibly expect you to control for yourself?’ he derided.
‘I’m going home. I should never have come here,’ she gasped strickenly.
The rain was slackening off and she vaulted back on to Misty in a surge of frantic energy. He would destroy her if she let him. Well, she wasn’t about to let him do that to her again. Fearfully she repressed the knowledge that when he had talked to her about Liz out on the moor, she had felt the strengthening of bonds she had long denied, drawn forth by his blazing candour.
In the yard at Torbeck, she dismounted and headed straight for her car.
‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’
Arrested by the invitation, she swung round, trembling. Her lips framed an answer they didn’t want to frame. ‘No.’
The aggressive set of his jawline hardened. ‘I won’t ask you again.’
Kitty laughed but it didn’t come out right. She was closer to tears. ‘I just wanted you to ask me once.’
She crunched the gears driving off, and at the foot of the lane she crammed her knuckles against her wobbly mouth. Something she had wanted and dreamt about and been ready to die for eight years ago had finally been offered to her when it was too late.
Drew arrived promptly the next day to take her to lunch. She got ready in a mad scramble. She had completely forgotten about him. For twenty-four hours her thoughts had been scampering round like mice on a treadwheel, never reaching a destination, never resting for a moment.
The fire in the lowlit lounge of the Bardsley Inn put out a welcoming blaze. The barman brought over their drinks quickly. Drew grinned at her. ‘That was snappy service. I’m sure it wasn’t for my benefit.’
They had the bar to themselves. Kitty stretched out her legs and slowly sank lower in her comfortable wing-chair. Drew’s easy banter unwound her tightened nerves. When a burst of voices announced new arrivals, he lifted a hand in acknowledgement of whoever had entered and continued talking.
‘Not quite your usual lunchtime haunt, Drew.’ It was unmistakably Jake’s husky drawl, mocking in tone. Kitty’s hand jerked
in reflex response. She almost spilt her drink.
Jake saw her at the last possible moment. The high-backed chair had hidden her from view. His hard-boned features clenched, his eyes narrowing to glittering shards. He held on to his smile with difficulty.
‘It makes for a change.’ Drew laughed, seemingly impervious to the sardonic twist of Jake’s mouth. ‘And, given the company and the weather, I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself.’
‘Drew’s been telling me some very funny stories.’ Maintaining her attitude of total relaxation, Kitty treated Jake to a languorous smile.
He looked spectacular in a fine dark tailored suit, one hand thrust in the pocket of well-cut trousers that accentuated his narrow hips and long, lean thighs. He ignored her conversational opener. His hooded gaze smouldered down the length of her carelessly extended body. Wicked little tongues of flame scorched wherever his dark intent scrutiny lingered. Her mouth ran dry. He couldn’t control that need to stare. He sent her a single electrifying glance of damped-down fury, his eyes damning her to hell and back for the effect she was having on him.
Only at that point did she consciously appreciate what she was doing. She drained her drink in one gulp, shamed by the recognition of her own instinctively provocative behaviour. With one glance she could freeze a polar bear at sixty paces, but when Jake looked at her she burned.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Jake drawled softly. He strode down the room and joined two older men at a table.
‘I see he’s not with Paula,’ Drew commented.
‘Did you think he would be?’ Kitty prompted. ‘Is that why you brought me here today?’
His pleasant features were drenched by a slow tide of colour. Her curiosity satisfied, Kitty decided to let him off the hook. ‘Have they been together long?’
He studied his glass. The pink was only retreating from the tips of his ears. ‘Paula only moved up here last autumn. She had just come through a rather messy divorce. At the time I didn’t think she was looking for a serious involvement, but I suspect her feelings have changed,’ he said more evenly. ‘And I don’t believe that Jake’s even aware that Paula’s in the same room when you’re in his vicinity. She would be better off without him.’