One thought followed fast and furiously in the wake of another, and the one was more unpalatable than the other until Christie thrust them from her with a shiver of revulsion to concentrate on what she was doing.
Lyle was still lounging in the chair when she returned carrying a tray, but he had removed his jacket, and he was smoking a cigarette which he put out in the ashtray beside him when she handed him his coffee. Christie lowered herself into the chair facing him, but she made no attempt to break the silence between them. She was still too confused, and there were too many doubts still flitting through her mind.
'The work you did for me was excellent,' he surprised her with his praise. 'I can't tell you how grateful I am, and I want to thank you on behalf of the students.'
'You've thanked me already, and there is absolutely no need for your gratitude.' She brushed aside his words with a touch of annoyance. 'I was paid for the job I did, and I did only what was required of me.'
'You did far more than what was required of you,' he corrected her, with that hateful glitter of mockery in his eyes, and for one shattering moment she thought again that he was referring to their lovemaking, then he added, 'it was not part of your job to become actively involved in the excavations.'
She breathed an inward sigh of relief, but her nerves were still quivering with agitation. 'Why didn't you stop me?'
'At first it amused me to watch you, and I wondered how much dust and heat it would take before the novelty would wear off.' The mockery left his eyes and his expression sobered into an unfathomable mask. 'I don't mind admitting that I was ashamed of my uncomplimentary thoughts when you convinced me that you were actually enjoying it.'
'I did enjoy it,' she confessed, relaxing her guard a fraction and absently straightening the skirt of her green floral dress. 'I felt like a child on a treasure hunt, but I was also fascinated at the prospect of uncovering history, and I could seldom wait to take down your notes in the afternoons.'
'You found my notes interesting?' he questioned, his dark eyes narrowed and intent upon her face.
'They were extremely interesting and informative,' she answered truthfully, and that faint light of mockery was suddenly back in his eyes.
'Would you say you have developed a taste for archaeology?'
A reluctant smile plucked at the corners of her mouth. 'Let's just say that what I've always considered a rather dead subject has become a great deal more alive to me.'
A treasure hunt. Her own words skipped through her mind while they drank their coffee. She had found a treasure, had she not? The ivory disc had been united with its replica… and it was still in her possession. She recalled her guilt at hiding it from Lyle, and she also recalled how, for a fleeting moment, she had thought that Lyle had known it was in her possession. Had it been her imagination, or had he actually suspected she had found Indlovukazi's love-token? Was that perhaps the true reason for his unexpected visit?
Lyle leaned back in his chair, his action startling her out of her guilty reverie, but he merely lit a cigarette. 'Have you found another job yet?' he asked, studying her intently through a cloud of smoke.
'I've applied for a few, but I haven't heard anything to date,' she replied carefully, placing her cup in the tray, and trying desperately to appear relaxed and casual. 'I'm in no hurry, though,' she added.
Anxious for something to do in order to regain her complete composure, Christie offered him another cup of coffee and, when he nodded, she went into the kitchen to pour it. Why was he here? What did he want? Her mind rapped out the queries, but seemed incapable of finding the answers.
'I'm planning an expedition for the next semester,' Lyle informed her when she placed his coffee on the small table beside his chair, and he studied the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully before he glanced up at her questioningly. 'Would you be interested in coming along as my secretary?'
'No!' Her voice was sharp and brittle with rejection as she sat down, but she softened her refusal by adding softly, 'Thanks.'
'I thought your new-found interest in archaeology might make you jump at the chance,' he mocked her derisively, stirring his coffee and swallowing down a mouthful.
'I would love to go,' she admitted, injecting a note of sarcasm into her voice, 'but I think the less we see of each other in future, the better, don't you?'
'I was hoping we could see a great deal more of each other,' he contradicted in an unperturbed manner, and her anger returned with an even greater volume than before.
'Why this sudden interest, Lyle?' she demanded coldly, her eyes twin flames of blue fury. 'When we met on the campus six weeks ago you were furious at discovering that I was to be your secretary during the expedition, and afterwards you made it quite clear that you couldn't stand the sight of me.'
'Did I really?' he drawled with infuriating mockery.
'You know you did,' she spat out the words. 'You seldom spoke to me unless you absolutely had to.'
'As I recall, we had several very interesting conversations.'
'They were conversations during which you did your best to insult and humiliate me,' she reminded him bitterly. 'And what about that total indifference you once mentioned?'
'I spoke rashly and in a moment of anger, but I disproved it later, didn't I?'
Christie inhaled sharply through her teeth. This time there was no mistake about his deliberate reference to something she would rather have forgotten. Her resistance had been low, and in that vulnerable state he had taken advantage of her. No, she could not blame him entirely, her conscience warned. She had not needed very much encouragement to surrender herself to him, and she had to carry an equal share of the guilt.
'We were both caught up in the aftermath of that terrifying experience with the mamba,' she said at length, shuddering inwardly at the memory and brushing aside the matter with a forced casualness. 'It meant nothing.'
'Didn't it?' He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and pinned her to her chair with a fiery glance. 'I think it meant a lot more than we're both prepared to admit.'
'It proved, perhaps, that we are still physically attracted to each other,' she agreed sarcastically, 'but that's all.'
His mouth twisted with stabbing derision. 'Wouldn't you consider that a good enough start on which to base a new relationship?'
'Are you perhaps suggesting that I should become your… your mistress?' she demanded, her cheeks flaring with indignation.
'I gather the idea doesn't appeal to you,' he smiled twistedly.
'It doesn't appeal to me at all,' she retorted coldly, leaping agitatedly to her feet and walking across to the window to draw a breath of sanity while she stared down into the busy street where the neon signs flashed an invitation to the entertainment seekers.
'What would you suggest, then?' Lyle's deep voice continued to mock her, and she knew that she had stretched her composure and her hospitality as far as it would go for one evening.
'I suggest you finish your coffee, and go home.'
There was an absolute and almost electrifying silence before she heard Lyle get up and move away from his chair. She waited for the sound of the door opening and closing, but instead she felt him coming up behind her. Every nerve was stretched taut and quiveringly alive to his nearness, and her heart was beginning to hammer against her ribs like a wild bird seeking release. She was trapped between him and the window, and she did not want to turn and face him. She needed time to control her expression if she did not want him to see the pain and disappointment in her eyes.
'Christie…' His voice was low and vibrant, and his hands touched her shoulders in something close to a caress, sending an exquisite warmth flowing into her body through the silk of her dress. 'Let's talk sensibly and seriously without taking a verbal dig at each other all the time.'
He was so close to her that her senses were tantalised by the woody scent of his masculine cologne, and every fragment of her resentment was demolished as if it had never existed. 'I think we have forgotten how to sp
eak decently to each other.'
'If we put a little effort into it I'm sure we could succeed,' he murmured, drawing her against him so that her back came to rest against his broad, solid chest, and a familiar weakness surged through her when she felt his breath stirring the short hair in the nape of her neck.
'Could we?' she heard herself asking in a breathless voice which did not seem to belong to her. 'Could we succeed?'
'We could start off by trying to be honest with each other,' Lyle suggested, his hands moving in an achingly sweet caress against her shoulders, and down her arms.
How honest could they be with each other? she wondered. How honest dared they be while there was still the fear of being hurt?
'There is something I have to know.' Her voice was a little unsteady when she turned beneath his hands, and she had to look a long way up before her probing glance met his. 'Why did you behave as if you hated the very sight of me?'
'Seeing you again after so many years brought back, with a vengeance, all the anger and bitterness of the past.' He smiled at her as he raised a hand to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek in a familiar caress, but his eyes remained shuttered, and she had the oddest feeling that he had not told her the absolute truth. 'It also made me realise that I still wanted you,' he added softly, his smile deepening with a sensuality that made her pulse quicken.
There was no mention of love; there never had been. She had been so madly in love with him all those years ago that she had believed blindly that he had loved her, too, but she knew now that she had been living in a paradise of her own making. He had said I want you, and he had followed it up with an offer of marriage, knowing that there was no other way she would get into bed with him, but this time he obviously found the encumbrance of marriage unnecessary. He still wanted her in the physical sense and, since she had been fool enough to fall into his bed with despicable eagerness that night at the camp, he naturally considered that she would be happy to oblige him again.
Her throat was achingly tight, and she turned away from him without speaking before he saw that glimmer of tears in her eyes which she was trying so desperately to blink away. She could hear Lyle speaking to her, but it took several seconds before she actually registered what he was saying.
'I've been wanting to talk to you since our return two weeks ago. It's important that we come to some amicable agreement about our future, but I've been bogged down with the analysis of the items we brought back with us, and there have been lectures and endless discussions.' He was silent for a moment, then he spun her round to face him and demanded, exasperated, 'Christie, are you listening to me?'
She swallowed convulsively and forced herself to meet his stabbing glance. 'I'm listening.'
His eyes were pin-points of fire raking her face, and his glance lingered on her full, sensitive mouth when it began to quiver with the effort to control her feelings. His hands framed her face, his thumbs moving in a caress across her cheekbones, then he pushed his fingers gently through her golden-brown hair which had grown almost to shoulder length during the past weeks.
'Don't cut your hair again,' he changed the subject in an oddly slurred voice, and Christie was beyond speech as pleasurable sensations cascaded through her at the touch of his fingers against her scalp.
He knew too much about her; he knew exactly how to arouse her with the sensuality of his touch, and if she did not break away from him now she would be lost. She placed her hands against his chest to push him away, but somehow her fingers slid between the buttons of his shirt, and the warmth of his hair-roughened skin against her fingertips sent a surging current of emotions through her that robbed her of the will to do anything. His face became a blur as he lowered his head, and quite suddenly she was aching for the touch of his warm mouth against hers. His lips teased and tantalised, filling her with an urgency that made her mouth move encouragingly beneath his in an exchange of sensually erotic kisses. She was vaguely aware of his warm hands sliding down her back in a slow, practised caress until her body seemed to melt into the curve of his hard frame, but a tiny spark of sanity invaded her mind when she became aware of his heated desire. If she waited too long she would be incapable of controlling her own emotions, and there was one thing she was very sure of at that moment. She did not want him on this 'no strings attached' basis.
'No, Lyle!' Her voice was husky, and she was breathing jerkily when she pushed him away with a burst of strength she had not known she possessed. 'If—if we're going to start a new relationship, then I think we—we should take it slowly.'
He looked momentarily startled, then he lifted an eyebrow in a hint of sardonic amusement. 'How slowly do you intend us to take it?'
Christie was torn in two. Her mind was thinking rationally, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own at that moment, and there was confusion in her body at the delay of what it considered a natural procedure, but her rational-thinking mind won the battle.
'I'd like us both to be sure that this is what we really want,' she said eventually, incapable of meeting his eyes.
'I know what I want, Christie,' The deep timbre of his voice thrilled her. 'How long will it take you to be sure of what you want?'
'I—I don't know.' Her mind was confused again, and she gestured helplessly with her hands. 'Please, Lyle, give me time to sort myself out.'
He stood facing her with his thumbs hooked into the belt hugging his slacks to his lean hips, and she wondered if he was annoyed with her. What if he would not wait? What if he walked out of her life again, and never came back?
'If you need time, then I won't push you unnecessarily,' He interrupted her frantic thoughts, and she sighed inwardly with relief when his warm hands framed her face and tilted it up to his. 'Don't take too long, though.'
'I'll try not to.'
Her voice had been a whisper of choked sound, and her eyes filled with embarrassing tears. She expected him to mock her, but instead he brushed her tears away with his lips, and kissed her mouth with a lingering gentleness that made her tremble with the sweetness of it.
'I'll see you tomorrow evening,' he promised and, carrying his jacket over his shoulder, he walked out of her flat and closed the door firmly behind him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Christie's life took on a new dimension during the weeks following their decision to build up a new relationship between them, and at times she could almost make herself believe that Indlovukazi's powers had lingered through the ages to reunite her with Lyle as she had reunited the ivory discs. Perhaps there was some magic in them after all. It was foolish to believe this, but she felt as if she had been given a second chance, and all that remained was for her to make the right decision.
Christie saw Lyle whenever he was free. They dined out often, or went to the theatre, and at weekends they would sometimes take a long drive out into the country. She knew that he had bought himself a house in one of the elite suburbs of Johannesburg, but he did not invite her to his home, and neither did she want him to. It was as if they had come to an unspoken agreement to avoid being alone together in places where they might find themselves incapable of resisting the temptation to see a closer relationship. Lyle had agreed not to push her for a decision she was not ready to make, and he had kept his word despite his noticeable impatience.
It was, for both of them, a period of wanting to get to know each other all over again. It felt strange, but Christie had not needed this time to discover that Lyle was not the same man she had once been married to. He had always possessed a certain element of cynicism, but it had become harsher over the years, and this disturbed her. They had also agreed to be honest with each other, but somehow they never discussed the past, or delved deeper than the surface reasons for the failure of their marriage.
She was also aware of the growing sensation that she stood accused of something which she had no knowledge of. At odd times she had found Lyle staring at her, and the accusation in his eyes had been unmistakable. She had questioned him about it,
but he had merely smiled cynically and changed the subject. Was it something she had done, or was it something she had neglected to do? She taxed her mind, forcing herself to cover every particle of ground in their past and present relationship, but nothing came to light. The feeling persisted however and, at times, it drove her crazy with frustration and helplessness. A growing uneasiness was yet another disturbing factor Christie had to cope with. It grew in momentum with every passing day like a premonition of something yet to come and, like a festering wound, it came to an unexpected head one evening when her doorbell chimed.
'Sammy!' she exclaimed, staring at the stockily built man with the shining bald pate. 'This is a surprise.'
'You think so?' he smiled as she let him in, but his smile was somewhat censorious. 'I believe it is said that, if Mohammed will not come to the mountain, then the mountain will have to come to Mohammed.'
'I'm sorry, Sammy,' she apologised a little guiltily. 'I've been rather busy lately.'
'You have been too busy to visit an old friend, but you haven't been too busy to have dinner and go to the theatre with your ex-husband,' he accused reprovingly. 'Is that not so?'
'How did you find out about Lyle?' she asked, her feelings hovering somewhere between surprise and anger.
'Contacts, darling,' he smiled triumphantly, thrusting one of his favourite cigars between his teeth and lighting it. 'I have many contacts in this city, and you know how easily people talk.'
Yes, she knew and, although she had not purposely wanted to hide the fact that she was seeing Lyle, it still succeeded in annoying her that the information had reached Sammy. 'I wish people would mind their own business!'
'Now, don't get angry, darling.' Sammy warned with that same triumphant smile of a moment ago. 'I have also heard a little rumour that Lyle Venniker was the leader of that expedition you went on.'
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