‘You already have a marvellous tan,’ Liz said, and Caroline nodded smugly in agreement, then vanished towards her room.
‘And what about you?’ Angus turned to Lisa, and she smiled politely.
‘I think I shall go to the beach. Why don’t you come with me, Sarah?’ She looked away from those piercing blue eyes to the little girl.
‘Only for half an hour,’ Liz warned, and they both nodded.
‘Worries too much, I think,’ Sarah said as they strolled along the beach, collecting shells.
‘Of course she does! She’s your mother. Mine used to worry about insect bites and poisonous plants.’
When she delivered Sarah back to the hotel, she found herself, much to her disgust, peering in the direction of the pool to see whether Angus was there. I don’t care where he is, she told herself, but if he’s by the pool then I shan’t feel as though I’ve got to be on the lookout.
He wasn’t there. Then she hated herself for wondering where he was.
She wished that she could block him out of her mind totally; she wished that she could look at him without feeling nervous; she wished that she could converse with him in a natural manner and then relegate everything he said to some compartment at the back of her mind. Somewhere safe and unthreatening.
She set off for the beach, which was virtually isolated, and lay down on her towel with her eyes closed.
When she next opened them, she was staring at the deep blue cloudless sky. She thought that if a painter ever decided to capture this on canvas the painting would be awful. The lines too defined, the colours too vivid and surreal, everything shimmering with an intensity that defied belief.
With a small sigh of contentment, she headed out to the water, which was nearly as warm as bath water, and struck out, swimming far and fast, leaving the beach behind, then turning round and treading water and looking back at the island from her vantage point.
The view was breathtaking. White sand, like powder, clear water lapping lazily up to the shore and falling back. The sound of the breeze and the sea was like a whisper, rising and sinking and never-ending.
She swam back in, slower, lazier, and surfaced to see Angus standing by her beach towel, his arms folded and a scowl on his face.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ He waited until she was close before saying anything, and his voice was low and sharp.
‘Wh-what? What do you mean?’ Lisa stammered in confusion. She bent down to scoop up her towel and he pulled it away from her and flung it on the sand.
‘Answer me!’
‘Swimming!’ she said hurriedly, backing away. ‘What’s the matter? Is something wrong?’ She was beginning to feel a little lost. Why was he so angry? Had something happened? Had she done something wrong without realizing it?
‘Look around you. What do you see?’
Lisa looked around her and then back at him. ‘I don’t see anything.’
‘Precisely. The beach is empty, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ What was he trying to say to her? ‘It must be later than I thought. What time is it? I left my watch back at the hotel when I came out here.’
‘The time is immaterial. What I want to know is what the hell you think you’re doing, swimming when there’s no one around.’
‘Oh.’ She nearly smiled in sheer relief. ‘The water is quite safe,’ she continued, noticing that his expression was still as black as thunder.
‘And what if you had got yourself into trouble out there?’
‘Well, I didn’t.’ She was beginning to feel resentful. ‘I’m a strong swimmer.’ The sun had left the sky. Twilight was creeping up.
‘What kind of answer is that?’
‘Look,’ she said in a placating voice, ‘I’m sorry you were worried, or concerned, or whatever, but I was quite safe.’ She took a deep breath and said what she felt ought to be said, because she was tired of being treated like a child. ‘My welfare isn’t your concern. I’m a big girl now and I can take care of myself.’ She sat down on her towel, painstakingly spreading it out so that it was flat, and hoped that he would go away and leave her alone.
To her dismay, he sat down next to her and now she began to feel conscious of her swimsuit.
‘Oh, you are, are you?’ he said tautly.
‘That’s right. I am. Now perhaps we should head back in.’ She started to get up and he reached out, hardly shifting his position at all, and circled her wrist with his fingers.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I’m not ready for you to go,’ he said, unperturbed. ‘You tell me that you’re a big girl, that you can look after yourself. Well, Lisa, why don’t you prove it?’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘PROVE it?’ Lisa said. The shadows were gathering around them. The angular lines of his face had softened, but his expression was unreadable, although she could still see the glitter in his eyes and the faint curve of his mouth.
‘That’s right.’ He still hadn’t let go of her hand and the warm pressure of his fingers on her skin was sending her into a state of muted panic. She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her; her mind just couldn’t seem to work its way round what his words had implied.
‘I don’t know what you mean; I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please,’ she said in a half-whisper. ‘I’m really not accustomed to...this...’
‘To what?’ His voice sounded faintly surprised, but she knew that he wasn’t. He had left his hand where it was because he knew that it threw her into a lather and he was enjoying the spectacle of that, like a cat playing with a mouse, not necessarily with a view to a kill, but certainly with a view to having a bit of fun.
‘I think we ought to go back inside...’
‘Why? I’m your host. Can’t you relax enough to have a conversation with me?’
She laughed nervously, but she could feel her heart beating rapidly and the blood rushing round her body, making her hot and tense. She’d had few men in her life, no serious relationships, never a kiss that made her freeze or a hand that inflamed—nothing, nothing that could have prepared her for the surge of sheer yearning that swept through her and left her feeling as though she had been hurled blindly in every direction by a tidal wave.
The vehemence of the emotion left her winded but suddenly strong enough to speak.
‘Of course I can, if that’s what you want. It’s just that I’m beginning to feel a little cold and uncomfortable out here.’
‘Cold?’ He shot her a disbelieving look. ‘I can’t possibly understand that. It’s still pretty hot out here, and besides...’ he paused and allowed his eyes to wander along her body before returning to her face ‘...your swimsuit covers you up so thoroughly that I doubt you can be feeling even remotely cold.’
It was the first time that he had assessed her physically, and she wondered whether she had imagined it. Had she? She convinced herself nervously that she had, and tried to hang onto her composure.
‘You and Caroline seemed to be having a very cosy conversation on the yacht earlier on,’ he said lazily. She felt him stroke the soft flesh of her inner wrist, a gesture which to her confused mind seemed shockingly intimate.
‘Were we?’
‘What was she telling you?’
‘I can’t remember.’ Lisa lowered her eyes. Her body felt as though it was being kept in a state of unnatural stillness; one false move and it would fall apart.
‘Of course you can,’ he said mildly. ‘Tell me.’
‘I’d rather not. I’d rather we went back to the hotel. I’d rather you let go of my hand.’
‘And I’d rather do neither of those things. So it would appear that we’re at a stalemate, wouldn’t it? I don’t like stalemates.’
The silence thickened around them, and eventually she said, reluctantly, ‘She’s concerned about you. If you really want to know, she thinks you need protecting.’
‘Does she? Protecting from what? Or should I say...from whom?’
�
��From me,’ Lisa said huskily. She couldn’t look at him when she said this and she resented the fact that the information had been torn out of her.
He let go of her hand and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I think that perhaps Caroline and I should have a little talk. Cousin to cousin.’
‘No! Please don’t.’ Lisa looked at him miserably. ‘I wouldn’t want to land anyone in trouble and anyway, she had your interests in mind. I would probably have done the same thing if I had been in her position.’
‘I don’t imagine that you would,’ Angus said flatly. ‘The problem with Caroline is that she can’t resist men. She flits from one relationship to another and she assumes that every other woman is motivated in the same way that she is. She’s on this cruise recovering from a broken engagement. The third she’s called off in the space of under two years.’
‘Please don’t say anything...’
‘You say that you would have done the same thing if you were in her position, but you’re nothing like her, are you?’
‘No,’ Lisa mumbled. Incoherence was beginning to set in. Her mouth felt dry, and she could hardly get the words out without a great deal of effort. ‘She’s very beautiful.’
‘I’m not talking about looks,’ he said impatiently. ‘Do you flit from one man to another?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Have you ever had a lover?’
She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her intently, and the darkness gave them a brooding look.
‘That’s none of your business.’ The thought of her virginity sent a flood of shame coursing through her, making her face burn. What right did he have to ask these questions? What right did he have to assume that he could ferret information out of her simply because he happened to be her host?
‘Have you?’
She hesitated for a fraction of a second and knew that the silence had spoken the words she couldn’t bring her mouth to formulate.
‘I’ve been meaning to,’ she said defensively. ‘I take relationships seriously. I’ve never found anyone... Of course, I’ve had boyfriends!’
‘Naturally.’
She sprang up and began walking away. Her eyes were hurting from tears which she refused to shed, tears of embarrassment and mortification.
. ‘There’s more to being an adult than having sexual experience!’ she shouted at him, stopping to turn around and surprised to find him on her heels.
‘Of course there is.’
‘And stop agreeing with me! Do you think I don’t realise you’re being patronizing? I’m not a fool!’
‘No. You’re not.’
‘There you go again.’
‘Would you prefer me to argue with you?’
‘It might make a pleasant change! It might make me feel more of a person and less of a charity case!’
He shook his head and then held her by her shoulders and said, enunciating very carefully, ‘Stop telling me how sorry I feel for you. How can there be room to feel sorry for you when you’re so busy feeling sorry for yourself?’
‘That’s not true.’
He gave her a little shake, as though it was the only way to make her listen to him, but she was listening, listening with every pore in her body, listening to sounds in her mind and the silences between what he was saying.
‘You can’t put your past behind you,’ he told her. ‘It follows you around like an albatross tied to your neck. You came here on a crazy impulse, but now that you’re here you can’t shed your inhibitions, can you?’
‘Why are we talking about this? What has this got to do with anything? I don’t want you analysing me.’
‘Because you’re afraid that I might be more truthful than you’d like?’
‘Because it’s none of your business—I keep telling you.’
‘And I’m telling you that it is.’
They stared at each other and the stillness of the night was like a weight pressing down on her, turning her to fire.
‘Why do you think that you’re not beautiful?’ he asked huskily. His hand moved to the curve of her neck. ‘You make a point of saying that money doesn’t determine a person’s worth. Do you think that appearance does?’
She didn’t know what to say. His voice had changed; it was thicker, less controlled, and he was breathing quickly—as quickly as she was. She could see the rise and fall of his chest and she watched, fascinated, unable to move, unable to speak.
His fingers coiled into her hair and he pulled her towards him, bending down slightly so that the features of his face became indistinct. She closed her eyes and thought that she should run away, as fast as she could, but her muscles felt sluggish, and besides, she wanted what was going to happen. She wanted him to kiss her.
Their lips met and she groaned with what was either denial or desire—maybe both. She could feel his hard body pressed against her and his hand moved to mould the small of her back.
His lips, at first gentle and persuasive, moved with a hunger now that sent a shudder through her. His tongue found hers, exploring deeper and harder, and her breasts, pushing against his chest, ached to be touched.
This was the naked face of passion—something she had only ever read about in books. She had never realised the real depth of her innocence until now, when desperate yearning reached out from inside her and spiralled through every vein in her body. It frightened her but at the same time she couldn’t stop herself.
Her head fell back as his tongue trailed a burning path along her neck. He was breathing thickly and unevenly and she whimpered as he peeled the shoulder straps of her swimsuit from her shoulders and pulled them down to her waist so that her small breasts were exposed.
She didn’t try to pull away. She whimpered in shock and pleasure as his hand cupped one breast, caressing it, while his thumb rotated against the nipple until it hardened to his touch.
She had small breasts but her nipples were large and sensitive and seemed to throb under the impact of his fingers. Her body was trembling, reduced to nothing more than a receptacle for sensations never experienced before.
He bent to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard on it while his hands worked her swimsuit still lower. In the process, wrapped around each other, they sank to the sand. Did he let her go for an instant? He must have because now there was a towel beneath her and she had no idea how it had got there. She was so consumed by his lovemaking that she really thought nothing could break through the flaming haze around them, not rain or thunder or even an army of soldiers on the beach.
His fingers played with her breasts as he kissed the bare column of her neck, caressing them, teasing them, squeezing them. She had to feel the wetness of his mouth and she pushed his head lower so that he could take the throbbing peaks into his mouth.
She was prepared to go the whole way; she thought that the intensity of blinding desire would be enough. It was only when she felt his hand move against her thigh, parting her legs, that her thought processes, which had been frozen into inactivity, churned back into life.
She could see herself now and it was like looking down at herself from a great height. Ordinary little Lisa, in pigtails and with her schoolbooks under her arm, ordinary little Lisa in her first party dress, so nervous that she felt sick, ordinary little Lisa lying on a beach with her natural reserve scattered to the four winds, making love with a man who had succumbed to some bizarre, passing whim.
His hand slipped underneath her swimsuit and she wriggled frantically, with all the energy she could muster, pulling away from him.
It’s not enough! she thought.
‘What’s wrong?’ His voice sounded slurred and disoriented and seemed to reach her from a long way away.
‘I can’t do this!’ she whispered hoarsely, and he pinned her back so that she couldn’t do what she wanted most to do, which was to spring to her feet and run away.
‘You can’t stop now,’ he grated savagely, and she looked away from him.
‘You’re hurting me.’
>
He let her go and she stayed where she was, shivering, as though it had suddenly turned bitterly cold.
‘I’m sorry—’ she began, but he cut her short with a snarl.
‘Forget it.’
‘I didn’t mean to...I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen...’
‘I said, forget it.’ He stood up and began walking away and she hurried to keep pace with him.
It hurt with a pain that was almost physical to think of their lovemaking. When was it ever going to end? She had come over here on impulse, she had gone against everything she had instilled into herself, and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she had committed the cardinal sin of being attracted to Angus Hamilton.
She had recognized the attraction, but what she had failed to do was acknowledge the power it had over her. Her inexperience had opened doors which should have remained shut. Was that what had turned him on? Her inexperience? The moonlight? A combination of both? It certainly hadn’t been a meeting of minds, because in the naked glare of reason it was easy to see that a meeting of minds for them was out of the question.
She glanced across at the dark figure striding back towards the plantation and felt another wave of horror wash over her.
‘You’re angry, I know,’ she said timidly, and was relieved when he didn’t jump down her throat, although he hadn’t slowed down and didn’t appear to be listening to a word she said. ‘It’s just that I’m not the type of person who...’
‘There’s no need for a lengthy post-mortem, Lisa,’ he said coldly, not looking at her.
‘I’m not giving you a lengthy post-mortem, I just want to explain...’
‘So that you can feel better about what we did?’
‘No.’ That’s exactly why, she thought miserably. She wanted to explain things so that she could put the incident behind her and justify her behaviour to herself. She wished that he would slow down.
He must have read her mind because he stopped abruptly and looked down at her, his face hard.
‘Then do explain why, if it makes you feel better. I’m all ears.’
Accidental Mistress Page 6