'You've suddenly gone very quiet, Lisa. I wonder why,' he remarked thoughtfully, and Lisa scraped her flagging courage together and plunged into speech.
'Adam, I know that—that you've been extremely busy for some time now, but—'
'But?'
She swallowed nervously. 'I think you ought to know that the twins feel you don't care for them.'
'That's utter nonsense!' he thundered, knocking out his pipe against the stem of a tree with such violence that she expected it to snap in two at any moment. 'I admit that initially I didn't fancy the idea of having my household disrupted, but they're my brother's children, and I'm their guardian.'
'They accept you as their uncle and guardian, but they need a little more than that,' she returned quietly. 'They need to know that they're loved as well.'
'Do they?' he demanded sarcastically. 'And what do you suggest I do about it? Wear a placard around my neck, or make a public declaration?'
'I wouldn't suggest anything as drastic as that.' Lisa hesitated, not sure whether she should continue under the circumstances, but his gesture of impatience made her press on. 'Spend a little more time with them so that they may get to know you, not only as their authoritative uncle and guardian, but also as their friend, and someone who cares. When you've done that, the rest will come naturally.'
'You think so?'
'I'm certain of it.'
Adam's expression became slightly cynical in the moonlight. 'Do you make a habit of trying to solve people's problems for them?'
'Don't mock my efforts, Adam,' she rebuked him, curbing her anger with difficulty. 'I'm fond of the children, and I… I'd like to help.'
Adam was silent for a moment, and there was all at once an element of danger in the warm, sultry night air when he asked, 'Are you fond of me too?'
Lisa stiffened and withdrew from him mentally as far as she could. 'You're my employer.'
'And that puts me in a category out of reach?'
'I wasn't aware that I was trying to reach you,' she stated coldly and, reacting upon the warnings that flashed through her mind, she turned and walked away from him, but Adam seemed to anticipate her movements, and his hands gripped her shoulders, drawing her relentlessly towards him until her back rested against his chest.
'Did it ever occur to you that I might be trying to reach you?' he asked with his lips close to her ear.
She could not speak for a moment as that familiar current of awareness flowed from his hands throughout her entire body, but when his lips began to explore the sensitive cord of her neck, she could no longer remain passive beneath his touch and she struggled for release.
'Please… don't,' she begged unsteadily, but his arms encircled her from behind, trapping her against his hard, muscular body.
'I like your perfume,' he murmured, nuzzling her neck and sending a shiver of unwanted delight through her.
'I don't use perfume.'
'Whatever it is, then, it smells good,' he insisted, quite unperturbed by her struggles as he continued the deliberate exploration of her neck and shoulder where the narrow strap of her dress had already been brushed aside by the persistence of his lips.
Lisa shut her eyes and fought against the clamouring emotions he aroused in her, but her resistance was ebbing swiftly as she made one last, desperate effort to free herself.
'Please, Adam,' she gasped, pushing at those arms holding her so effortlessly. 'Leave me alone!'
'You're asking the impossible,' he seemed to growl in her ear, and then she was swung round to face him.
'Let me go!' she cried frantically as his lips descended on hers, and then her pleas were silenced effectively by the sensual pressure of his warm mouth.
Her senses were reeling, and the desire to respond was very nearly overpowering, but she had to fight against it. She dared not let him see how completely he had her within his power, and she would not be his plaything when Willa was not around to amuse him.
The thought of Willa suddenly threw a blanket over the fire of her emotions and, with an unexpected burst of strength, she thrust him from her.
'How dare you!' she cried in anguish, and before she could stop herself she had struck him a sharp blow across the cheek that left the palm of her hand tingling.
The sound echoed like a pistol shot in the velvety darkness of the garden and, horrified at what she had done, she tried to make amends, but a paralysing numbness had taken possession of her vocal chords, and she could only stand and stare up at him helplessly while the look on his face, as he towered over her, sent a shiver of cold fear up her spine.
'No one slaps my face and gets away with it,' he said in a dangerously calm voice. 'Not even you, Lisa.'
She tried again to speak, to ward off the terrifying results of her unforgivable action, but her voice failed her at the most critical moment, and his anger, when he finally released it, was something she hoped never to experience again.
With her arms pinned firmly at her sides, his mouth took hers with a savage brutality that could not have been more painful had he retaliated by striking her, and, as she sagged against him limply, he added insult to injury by running his hands over her body in a way that told her exactly what he thought of her.
The punishment ended at last when she tasted the salt of her tears in her mouth, and for a moment she stood swaying before him with a rawness in her heart that could not be assuaged.
'Now you have reason to strike me,' Adam stated harshly, his voice jarring against her jangled nerves and, turning from him with a choked cry, she fled across the garden and stumbled up the steps into the house.
She reached her room somehow, thanking heaven that Erica Vandeleur was not about, and then the deluge of tears could no longer be checked. Lying across the bed, she stifled her sobs in the pillow and wept like a child. She had deserved to be punished, but she had not deserved those insults conveyed through his hands on her body, and the entire incident left her feeling degraded, humiliated, and terribly empty.
CHAPTER TEN
It rained incessantly during the next few days, which was quite extraordinary weather for the Karoo, and the seemingly barren veld came alive with a colourful assortment of flowers that not only amazed Lisa, but won her over completely to become as enchanted as Erica Vandeleur had warned she would.
None of this made any difference, however, to the fact that she would eventually have to leave Fairview to return to the city. It was an unpleasant thought, but what hurt her most was the chilly politeness Adam had subjected her to since that night she had so unforgivably slapped his face. She had failed in her plight for the twins' sake, she had told herself then, but despite her initial misgivings there appeared to be a slight change in Adam's attitude towards them, and this afforded her one small spark of joy in her now dismal existence.
The children were wary of him at first, and Adam's tight-lipped expression at times was neither promising, nor encouraging, but with Christmas less than a month away, the subject of suitable gifts was discussed over afternoon tea in the garden one Sunday. Kate and Josh could not make up their minds what they wanted for Christmas when their grandmother questioned them tentatively, and the discussion almost ended in an argument between the twins. It was at this point that Adam decided to take part in the conversation.
'What about a pony?' he suggested casually, and two pairs of brown eyes were turned on him instantly; eyes filled with wary uncertainty.
'A pony?' Josh asked hesitantly. 'A real pony?'
'A real pony,' Adam insisted, stretching his long legs out before him and sucking thoughtfully on his pipe. 'One for yourself, and one for Kate, then you could both learn to ride.'
There was a frightful little pause, and Lisa held her breath. Adam had taken a gigantic step in the right direction, but the outcome depended entirely on the children's response.
'Do you really mean that, Uncle Adam?' Kate broke the silence by questioning his sincerity.
'Do I usually say things that I don't mean?'
>
'No… I don't think so,' Kate replied hesitantly, lapsing into silence, and it was Josh who finally asked, 'Will you teach us to ride, Uncle Adam?'
There was again that tense little silence, but a flicker of a smile was softening Adam's stern features as he said: 'If you're good, yes.'
'Yippee!' the twins shouted excitedly, while Lisa slowly expelled the air from her lungs.
The ice was broken and, as the twins clambered confidently on to his lap to perch themselves on his knees, Lisa and Erica Vandeleur exchanged a- smile of relief. It seemed to Lisa as if the impossible had been achieved, and the sun was suddenly a little brighter on that warm summer's day beneath the shady oak.
It took a little time adjusting to the sight of Adam with the twins in his arms, smiling with tolerant amusement at their exuberant display of affection, but it also looked so perfectly right. There was, surprisingly, no awkwardness in his manner towards them, and Lisa could quite easily imagine him sitting there with his own children on his lap; children with dark hair like Adam's and green eyes like Willa's.
A red mist of pain flashed before her eyes, and jealousy, as she had never known it before, seared through her agonisingly, but she made a supreme effort to control herself by concentrating on the conversation taking place.
'Uncle Adam, you're the best uncle in the whole world,' Kate announced shyly, kissing him on the cheek, and his heavy eyebrows rose in surprise and amusement.
'Well, I don't know so much about being the best uncle in the world, because it took some very straight talking from a certain someone to make me realise that I haven't been much of an uncle lately.' His eyes met Lisa's, and she knew instinctively that this was his way of thanking her, but there was also something else in those dark, compelling eyes; something she tried vainly to grasp even after he had lowered his gaze to the twins once more. 'What about going for a swim?'
'Oh, yes! Please!' they cried excitedly as they jumped off his lap. 'Let's go and change.'
'I thought Willa was expecting you over at their place this afternoon,' Erica Vandeleur wanted to know as he rose from his chair to follow the children inside.
'I'll give her a ring and tell her that I can't make it,' he shrugged it off, and then he was striding out across the lawn towards the house.
'That won't please Willa very much,' Mrs Vandeleur remarked caustically when he was out of earshot. 'We've known her since she was a child, but lately she seems to think Adam belongs to her, and she won't take kindly to being stood up for the twins.'
Lisa said nothing, but she wondered how long Erica Vandeleur would still have to wait before she was told of the deepening relationship between her son and Willa Jackson.
'Perhaps they're waiting for Christmas to make the announcement, and… Oh, God!' she thought despairingly. 'I wish I were dead!'
Two weeks before Christmas Lisa was called to Adam's study one evening after dinner and, as she sat facing him across the wide expanse of his desk, she wondered nervously what she could have done that it should warrant a private confrontation in his study, but Adam appeared to be in no hurry to enlighten her, and she was forced to wait with barely concealed patience while he took his time lighting his pipe to his satisfaction.
'I've invited your mother and your aunt to spend a few weeks over Christmas and the New Year with us,' he said at last, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air and filling the room with the pungent aroma of his brand of tobacco.
'You've what?' she asked incredulously, leaning forward and gripping the arms of her chair.
'You heard me.'
'Why?' she demanded, making no effect to hide the fact that his statement had startled her. 'Why have you invited them?'
'We intend to have a very quiet Christmas, but my mother would very much like to see your aunt again, so I suggested inviting her to spend the festive season with us. I also decided that you might like to have your mother here with you.'
'Oh,' she said foolishly, still finding it a little difficult to grasp the situation. 'Have they… have they accepted?'
'I received a letter from your mother and your aunt this morning. They'll be delighted to come, and they'll be arriving next week as suggested.'
'Oh.'
'You don't sound too happy about it,' he observed quietly, his eyes narrowed and intent upon her through a haze of smoke.
'I don't know what I feel at the moment. I—' She bit her lip and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She did know suddenly how she felt. She did not want her mother and her aunt there on the farm with her. They were the two people closest to her, and they knew her too well. They would guess her secret, and would know of her utter misery. She did not want that, but it was too late to do anything about it. 'It was kind of you to invite them,' she said at last, keeping her eyes lowered.
'I do things for a purpose, and never out of kindness,' Adam retorted harshly, rising to his feet and kicking his chair back with such violence that she jumped nervously.
'What was the purpose of your invitation, then?'
Adam stood with his back to her, staring out of the window with one hand clenched, while the other was thrust into the pocket of his immaculate grey slacks, and he took so long to answer her that she was beginning to think that he had not heard her, but he turned to face her at last and said with a shrug, 'Most people enjoy being with their families at Christmas time, and I have no reason to believe that you're any different from the others.'
'You did it for me, then?'
His lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. 'Not entirely.'
'You're confusing me,' she admitted, a hand fluttering to her brow as she tried to fathom his reasoning.
'All you have to do is accept the fact that your mother and your aunt will be spending Christmas here with you, and leave it at that,' he said with a hint of familiar impatience, and as she stared at him silently she realised that his kindness, or whatever he wanted to call it, had paved the way for her to disperse with something which had lain heavily on her conscience for some time.
'Are you—are you in a hurry to get back to whatever you were doing?' she asked haltingly as she stared at the papers strewn across his desk.
'Not if there's something you want to discuss with me,' he replied, walking round to her side of the desk and seating himself on the corner of it. He waited, but as Lisa searched frantically for the right words, he said impatiently: 'Well? Is it so difficult to say what's on your mind?'
'I—I'm not finding it—it difficult to say what's on my mind,' she began haltingly, conscious of his eyes on her face, and of the nervous flutter at the pit of her stomach. 'It's not what I have to say that's so difficult, but I haven't had the—the opportunity to speak to you alone since— since the other night, and—and when there's a delay in—in doing what you have to do, it's always a little difficult finding the right words, but—' She clenched her hands tightly in her lap and raised her troubled glance to his. 'I owe you an apology, Adam. I—I don't usually make a habit of—of slapping people's faces.' Horrifyingly close to tears, she lowered her eyes again hastily as she murmured, 'I'm sorry.'
A long, uncomfortable silence followed, then Adam said quietly, 'A girl usually slaps a man's face when she feels he's insulted her, and, initially, it hadn't been my intention to do that.'
'I—I know,' she whispered, keeping her head lowered as she blinked away the moisture in her eyes.
'What happened afterwards is regrettable,' he continued, 'but I'd like to know what had prompted you to such violence.'
Lisa's heart lurched uncomfortably. To explain would mean revealing how she felt about him, and that was something she had to avoid, so she shook her head and muttered, 'I can't explain.'
'Because you don't want to? Or because there really was no reason for your behaviour?'
'Because I can't explain! I just can't!' she exclaimed, jumping to her feet in a panic and darting round the chair to get away from him.
The quick rise and fall of her small breasts beneath her cas
hmere sweater conveyed the extent of her agitation, and as the silence lengthened between them her eyes were relentlessly drawn to his. In the subdued light of the desk lamp his eyes were almost black as they burned into hers. She tried to look away, but she could not, and she stood there helpless, like a bird caught in the hypnotic glance of a snake.
'Your eyes fascinate me,' his deep voice vibrated along her nerves, bringing her out of her trance-like state. 'Did you know that they become a deep violet blue when you're emotionally disturbed?'
She trembled, almost as if he had touched her. 'Please, Adam, stop it!'
His eyebrows rose mockingly. 'Has no one ever told you that before?'
'No,' she admitted, taking several deep breaths to steady herself.
'How unobservant of Rory what's-his-name,' Adam remarked a little dryly and, intercepting her quick glance at the door, he stepped across the room and opened it. 'You're free to go if you want to,' he said, leaning against the doorframe with his thumbs hooked into the narrow belt hugging his hips.
She was free to go, yes, but to do so she would have to brush past him. She took a few hesitant steps towards the door, and then stopped, her pulses drumming out a nervous tattoo, and an unconscious plea in her eyes.
'My God!' he exclaimed harshly, kicking the door shut. 'I swore I'd never touch you again, but when you look at me like that—!'
He broke off sharply, his eyes a mask of unfathomable anger, and then what she had feared happened. He swept her into his arms and his mouth came down on hers with the precision of an eagle swooping down on its defenceless prey. Like the captured animal, she knew that it was useless to struggle, and she remained passive in his arms, fighting a desperate battle with herself as she endeavoured to keep her lips unresponsive beneath the relentless, demanding pressure of his. It was virtually an impossible task, when all she really wanted to do was to surrender herself to the ecstasy of his lips and arms, but she dared not. She had to remember that he was merely amusing himself with her, and, even though the temptation to respond was increasing alarmingly, she had to think of Willa.
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