'Jermaine, I...' Ash began, turning to her as he halted the Range Rover at the top of the drive.
'Forget it. Ash,' she cut him off. She didn't think she was cross with him any longer—just plain weary of the whole messy business. With that, feeling down, she left Ash to garage the vehicle and walked over the drive and indoors.
What she didn't need in the mood she was in was to have Lukas Tavinor come out of his study just as she was passing the door. If he'd been watching for her from the windows, he couldn't have timed it better.
But one glance at his unfriendly expression was all Jermaine needed to know that their meeting was accidental—her sister's efforts in her absence didn't appear to have put him in the sunniest of moods, Jermaine observed. She began to feel more cheerful.
She had intended to walk by him without a word, but then discovered she had been wrong in her belief that, likewise, Tavinor had nothing he wanted to say to her either. Because, before she had taken more than two steps, his right hand suddenly snaked out and caught hold of her right arm—and the next she knew she found he had pulled her into his study and slammed the door shut.
Jermaine was gasping at how fast it had happened, but as he let go her arm it wasn't very long before she gained her second wind and was ready to pitch into him in no uncertain terms.
Before she could, though, he was going for her main artery. 'The reason you're here is for your sister's benefit, not my brother's!' he clipped aggressively.
Jermaine's jaw fell open from the shock of this onslaught. 'You obviously didn't care to play nursemaid in my absence!' she slammed straight back.
'Ash is your sister's boyfriend!' Lukas reminded her grimly.
So he'd noticed? 'She's welcome to him!' Jermaine retorted—what in blazes was all this about?
'You're not moving in with him?'
She stared at him thunderstruck. 'Because I've been to see a property with him?' she questioned, astounded.
'There's more going on with the two of you than that!' Lukas gritted aggressively. 'I saw the way he greeted you when you arrived. Yesterday he was all over you, and you haven't hurried back today, so don't tell me there's nothing between you...'
'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Jermaine exploded. 'What is it with this family?'
Lukas stared at her—and Jermaine knew she had said more than was wise. He was clever, was Lukas Tavinor—he'd work it out. 'You've had a spat with Ash?' he questioned, right on target.
'He—annoyed me,' she admitted.
'How?'
Jermaine glared at Lukas Tavinor. He cared not but waited, determined, it seemed, to have an answer. She went to sidestep him and open the door—he was there first.
'So, what's with you and Ash?' he demanded.
She sent him a seething look of dislike, but could tell he wasn't going to let up until she told him. 'If you must know,' she snapped, 'Ash was my boyfriend to start with.'
It was humiliating to have to confess that. But, when she had been expecting something sarcastic in the line of 'either you've got it or you haven't' in relation to Ash dumping her in favour of her sister, Lukas said nothing remotely like it, but rendering Jermaine very near speechless, his look toughened, and it was harshly that he gritted, 'You're saying Ash had you between the sheets first?'
'I'm...' She was flabbergasted. 'Well, that would be the way your mind works!'
'He didn't?'
'Look here...' she began angrily, feeling sorely like bashing his head in. 'It...'
'How long were you and Ash going out?' he cut in, staying with his theme to challenge.
'Three months!' she answered furiously— then, remembering the last two weeks of her and Ash, 'Maybe a little less, but...'
'And in all that time you and he never...?' he began sceptically. But Jermaine had had enough.
'Look here, you!' she flared, 'Not all women do.' That made him raise his eyebrows.
'You—don't?' he questioned disbelievingly.
'I don't!' she flared. 'Honestly!' she huffed. 'I don't know why I'm still standing here having this conversation with...'
'Well—I'll be... You—haven't—ever?' he double-checked.
'I didn't know it was compulsory!' she answered furiously.
He continued to stare at her for a few seconds. And then, unbelievably, she saw his expression soften. 'You're scared?' he probed gently.
She didn't want him gentle—it undermined her anger. 'I haven't met the right man yet!' she tossed at Lukas airily—and saw him smile.
'Oh, get thee behind me, Satan,' he said softly, his meaning obvious—he saw her answer as a challenge!
'fat chance!' Jermaine scorned, and, giving him a disgusted look, went to push him out of the way of the door. But only to find, when he caught a hold of her and her heart started to beat erratically, that he wasn't ready to let her go yet. But as she looked into his eyes, her heart started thundering. There was mischief there, and teasing, and, staggeringly, his head was coming closer. She panicked.
'You're as bad as your brother!' she railed—that sent the teasing look on its way.
'Did Ash kiss you while you were out?' Lukas demanded stonily.
'Tried!' Jermaine snapped. "Tried" being the operative word—it landed on my cheek.'
For no reason she could think of, his good humour appeared to be restored. 'Oh, naughty Jermaine,' he teased. 'Did you give him a set-down.'
Her lips twitched at the old-fashioned expression. She didn't want to laugh. No way did she want to laugh. But there was just something about this wretched man that had her doing things she didn't want to.
His glance went to her mouth. 'You're lovely,' he said. 'And even lovelier when you laugh,' he added, and, leaning down, he gently kissed her.
Something was trying to tell her that she shouldn't be standing there allowing him to kiss her. But as his lips touched hers and a tingling kind of sensation washed through her, right down to her toes, so her senses seemed to go absolutely haywire. She was still standing there when Lukas pulled back and looked into her eyes. She looked back, feeling mesmerised—what a wonderful, tender, absolutely sensational mouth he had.
How long she would have stayed there, just standing there staring at him, had he not been the first to move and break the spell she was under, Jermaine had no idea. But he did move, to kiss her again, and, even while a pounding started in her ears, Jermaine somehow managed to get herself more of one piece.
'I— er...' she mumbled, drawing back out of reach and voicing the first excuse she could think of—though why she should need an excuse she had no idea. 'I'm —er—going for a shower,' she mumbled.
His hand went down to the door handle, but she didn't miss the sudden wicked light in his eyes when, just before he opened the door he enquired nicely, 'Want company?'
'Our requirements are different,' she answered as coolly as she could. I'm for a hot shower—I suggest you take a cold one!' His laugh followed her from the room.
Her lips twitched too, so she was glad she had her back to him as she crossed the hall and sailed up the stairs—but she was still staggered. What was it about the man? He seemed to be doing most peculiar things to her.
Up in her room she convinced herself that she didn't find him in the least bit funny. She was not amused. What she was, was stuck here—stranded—and he had a vehicle that would get her out. Against that, of course, there was pride. She wouldn't ask him, she'd be hanged if she would. And, anyway, why was she getting so stewed up? She would need her own vehicle to get her to work on Monday. Just supposing she did leave here in the four-wheel drive, she would only have to make a special trip back to collect her car.
Chafing against force of circumstance, Jermaine joined Edwina and the Tavinor brothers for lunch—and grew more and more embarrassed at Edwina's less than subtle attempts to ensnare Lukas. True, both he and Ash were polite to Edwina as she twittered breathlessly away. But, from
Jermaine's point of view, if it was a fact that Ash had switched his allegiance back to her, then he most probably no longer wanted Edwina in his brother's home.
Which made it all rather splendid, didn't it? Lukas wanted neither of them here at Highfield, and the same went for Ash. Intolerable? It was beyond that. With her pride battered, Jermaine glanced at Lukas, her gaze falling on his splendid mouth. So, okay, he hadn't made a meal of it, but he had kissed her and... Her heart missed a crazy beat at the memory of his tender, gentle kiss.
She flicked her glance upwards—and to her consternation saw that Lukas was watching her. She went scarlet when, every bit as if he could read her mind and knew her every thought, Lukas Tavinor smiled.
Jermaine was back to hating him again and was silently calling him a swine. She was glad that he wasn't at dinner that night, and had fresh reason to hate him that he—he with his transport—could go out, leave the house whenever he chose. No doubt he was out somewhere, wining and dining with Beverley!
Jermaine did not sleep well that night and was showered and dressed early. As soon as it was light enough to see outside she was off down the stairs. As soon as she was able, she was leaving.
Her first port of call, however, was the kitchen, where she found the housekeeper having her first cup of tea of the day. 'Will you join me?' Mrs Dobson invited, heading for the teapot.
'Not just now, Mrs Dobson.' Jermaine smiled. 'But if you've a pair of Wellingtons I may borrow to take a look around?'
Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of Wellingtons and an over-large, heavy topcoat, which the housekeeper was certain Jermaine would 'catch her death' without, Jermaine was going quickly down the drive to take a look at the road beyond.
There was still plenty of water about, she observed, but not so much. Good—she was going to risk it. Strangely, Jermaine felt a most decided pang at the thought of leaving Highfield. Then wondered, why shouldn't she? It was a lovely house, not to say a beautiful house, and since it was most unlikely she would ever set foot here again, to feel that little twinge of regret was only natural, surely?
She wouldn't feel the slightest pang at saying goodbye to its owner, though. Nor would she feel any anguish at the thought of never seeing him again. But, manners being manners, she would thank him for his hospitality— and get out of there.
Though first... Somehow Jermaine felt pulled to go and look again at that idyllic spot by the little footbridge. Unable to deny that pull, she made her way to the rear of the house and then to the small wooden bridge, where the waters beneath were much less of a tiny torrent now than they had been.
Because she couldn't resist it, Jermaine went over to the bench and sat down, and for some moments enjoyed the peace, tranquillity— quiet solitude.
She was, however, just feeling grateful that Mrs Dobson had insisted she borrow her topcoat, when her quiet solitude was broken by the sound of someone approaching.
'I thought it was you—even if I did recognize the coat,' Lukas Tavinor commented as she fumed.
'Mrs Dobson loaned it to me—and the Wellingtons,' Jermaine answered.
'Why wouldn't she?' Lukas smiled. 'You're her favorite.'
Favorite! Jermaine stared at him. 'Me? Why?'
'According to Mrs D, you've been more than pulling your weight. You've seen to it that your sister has breakfast in bed.' Guiltily Jermaine remembered how yesterday she had been in two minds about letting Edwina 'starve.' 'She says you've also made sure that neither of you need trouble her. You're always cheerful and friendly, and eager to do any small task, no matter how menial. You're...'
'Stop! I can't live up to this,' Jermaine cut in, and, wanting to change the subject, she honestly told him, 'I could quite miss this wonderful spot.'
She wasn't sure what she expected him to say, but it certainly wasn't his sharp, 'You're thinking of going somewhere?'
His tone annoyed her. It had no place in this enchanting spot. 'In half an hour!' she answered bluntly.
'You can't!' he rapped.
'Watch me!' she tossed back. 'And thank you for your hospitality.'
He threw her a murderous look, clearly not wanting her thanks, and her pleasant mood evaporated. He had spoiled everything. Without another word, Jermaine got up and left him.
Lukas Tavinor was nowhere around when, a little over half an hour later, Jermaine put her overnight bag in the back of her car. Ash was, and came out to her car with her.
'You'll drive carefully, Jermaine,' he instructed.
'Don't I always?'
'There'll probably be a lot of debris around after the flooding.'
'I know. I'll be careful.'
'Jermaine.' She looked at him. 'May I kiss you goodbye?' Ash asked.
She suddenly felt sorry for him. And yet, oddly, when they had kissed in the past and she had quite enjoyed his kisses, she didn't want his mouth against her own now. She was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his brother had yesterday kissed her—and she had tingled all over. Good grief! This enforced incarceration at Highfield must have turned her brain. But, in any event, she offered her cheek to Ash.
'Goodbye, darling. Take care,' he said, and saluted the cheek she offered.
As soon as she arrived at her flat she telephoned her parents. She did her best to assure them that there was little the matter with Edwina—naturally her father thought Jermaine
was being very hard-hearted. Her mother, however, was for once slightly ascerbic, remarking, 'Edwina always did have the flu longer and much worse than anyone else in the area,' causing Jermaine to realise that their mother saw more than she'd been aware. How much longer Edwina was going to continue playing the martyr down at Highfield was anybody's guess. Highfield...
Jermaine was glad to be extra-busy the next day. The hours she had spent at Highfield seemed to have disturbed her more than she'd appreciated. At any unsuspected moment she would find herself thinking about more or less everything that had taken place since giving in to coercion last Thursday and driving down to Lukas's home. She thought about Edwina, who didn't want Ash. And about Ash, who apparently no longer wanted Edwina. Though, mysteriously, Jermaine found she was thinking more about Lukas than any of them. Lukas, who was a law unto himself and, by the look of it, didn't want anybody.
Two days later, Jermaine was so busy at her office she didn't have time for lunch. But, having at last caught up, she left work on time and reached her flat to hear her phone ringing. Lu... Abruptly she strangled the thought before it could go further. Just because Lukas Tavinor knew her phone number—just because he was in her head a lot just lately—it didn't mean he was going to call her.
Heavens above—as if she wanted him to! She picked up the receiver. 'Hello,' she said, and heard Stuart Evans, her friend and work colleague, asking her how she felt about keeping him company at the nearby Chinese restaurant.
'We needn't stay late,' he added.
'Which means that there's football on one of the TV channels at nine o'clock,' she interpreted, and owned she didn't feel much like cooking a meal for herself. 'I'll meet you there in half an hour?' Stuart lived a few streets away in an apartment the company had likewise found for him.
'I'm passing your door—I'll pick you up in ten.'
He was obviously starving. Jermaine freshened up a little and ran a comb through her shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair. She was ready when Stuart drew up outside.
He was uncomplicated and easy to get along with, was Stuart. She had dated him a couple of times, but when she'd told him plainly that she wasn't interested in anything but friend-
ship, he, unHke one or two others she had said the same thing to, had accepted it. That was when they had become friends.
'I asked you—my treat,' he said when she drew her purse from her bag. 'You can pay next time.'
Since she knew that she might well call him next week and invite him to keep her company at the local Indian
restaurant, she put her purse away and Stuart drove her home. Equality of the sexes aside, Stuart got out of his car at her flat and saw her to her door, as he always did.
He watched while she opened the door, then gave her cheek a friendly kiss. "Night, Jermaine,' he bade her.
'Enjoy your football,' she bade him, and they both laughed.
Jermaine watched in the light of the street-lamp as he pulled away, and had turned back to her door when, making her very nearly jump out of her skin, a curt voice demanded, rather than asked, 'Who was that?'
She spun about. Lukas Tavinor! Where the...? What...? She got herself together, the question of where he had sprung from fading as, regaining her composure, she offered sarcastically, 'You should have come out of the woodwork sooner— I'd have introduced you.'
Her sarcasm was wasted. 'Is he the reason you didn't want Ash to kiss you?' Lukas questioned toughly.
She'd had enough of him—and they were on her territory. 'If you've got a report you want typing—forget it!' she bristled.
He smiled and she could feel herself weakening. 'I could do with a cup of coffee,' he hinted.
And there was such charming persuasiveness in his voice that Jermaine found she had answered, 'So could I,' and had invited him to, 'Come up,' before she'd had time to think about it.
How long had he been there? she wondered as he followed her inside the building. And why, when she had climbed these stairs hundreds of times, was her heart pounding so? She had run up them sometimes, if she'd felt like it, and had never experienced such inner commotion.
'Come in,' she called over her shoulder as she opened the door of her small flat, suddenly realising that her meal must have restored her flagging energy. After a hectic day, she had been feeling a degree or two weary, but now, all at once, she felt brimful of vim and vigor. She put her bag down and went into the tiny kitchen. There was barely room for two and he was tall and broad-shouldered. 'I'll bring the coffee through,' she commented pointedly, when he followed her.
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