by Penny Jordan
She had been woken from the deepest sleep she could remember having in a long time by her family’s late arrival home, and at first, still sleepy and confused, she had instinctively turned to the side of the bed where Jake had lain as he’d held her in the aftermath of…of what had happened. But of course Jake had not been there, although her knowledge of what had happened between them had, and abruptly she had come wide awake, her thoughts and emotions chasing one another in frantic unending circles as she’d tried to make sense of not merely what she had done but also what she had said, blush-making though her increasingly cringingly clear memories were. She remembered calling out to Jake to touch her, hold her, imploring him to possess her and, most shocking of all, begging him to…But, far more importantly, she’d tried to make sense of how she had felt and why.
Surely it wasn’t possible for the simple act of changing her normal sensible underwear for something much more provocative and sensual to have caused the kind of total personality change she felt she must have undergone to have acted as she had—and with Jake of all people?
Not even with John had she ever…She swallowed nauseously on the stomach-churning emotions as she heard Janey asking her again, ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You look awfully pale…’
‘I…I do feel a little bit queasy,’ Lucianna was forced to admit, adding uncomfortably, ‘I think it must have been the fish pie I ate for supper…’
Janey was really frowning now.
‘Do you? Well, in that case I’d better throw out what’s left…’
‘I think I’ll go outside and get some fresh air,’ Lucianna told her sister-in-law, guiltily aware that the reason for her malaise had nothing to do with Janey’s fish pie.
Once outside she walked towards her workshop but made no attempt to so much as even glance at the car she was supposed to be working on.
How could she have been so overwhelmed by passion…by need…by desire that she had…that she had wanted…? She swallowed nervously, recalling the panic she had first experienced last night when she’d realised that Jake wasn’t there in bed beside her and that she had actually expected and wanted him to be…and had still wanted him to be this morning.
Her thoughts and emotions were totally confused and frighteningly complex as well. She longed to have someone she could discuss them with, someone she could turn to for help and advice, someone who could help her to unravel the disturbing tangle of her emotions and to reassure her that what had happened, what she had done, did not mean…Lucianna swallowed painfully. Did not mean what?
The needs, the desire, the emotions she had experienced last night, and their intensity, were things she had always expected only to feel with and for a man with whom she was deeply and compellingly in love and who loved her back just as intensely. But the man she had ached for, hungered for, wanted with every single fibre and particle of her body hadn’t been John, the man she believed she loved, but Jake…Jake…whom she’d never, in her most remotest, wildest dreams or imaginings, had fantasies about, thought of as…
But no, that wasn’t quite true, was it? Hurriedly Lucianna opened the bonnet of the car she was supposed to be working on, desperate to avoid the mental confrontation her thoughts were dragging her towards but knowing there was no way she could avoid the collision course she was on.
Her own moral code would not allow her to lie to herself. No, not even for her own self-protection. There had been times recently—brief, startling and shockingly explicit milliseconds of time—when she had experienced some very unfamiliar and disturbing sensations when she was in Jake’s company, and some even more unfamiliar and disturbing emotions, accompanied by mental images she was blushing to recall now, just as much as she had blushed to remember what had occurred last night when she had first opened her eyes and known what had taken place.
She stiffened as she heard the kitchen door open on the other side of the yard and saw David striding towards her. She knew what he was going to say. He was going to remind her again that Jake wanted to see her.
Her fingers fumbled with the catch of the bonnet as she released it, causing the metal to crash down on her fingers before she had time to snatch them away. The skin wasn’t broken but she would definitely bear the bruises of her carelessness for several days, she recognised as she instinctively sucked her sore flesh.
And then she remembered just how Jake had sucked on her vulnerable and responsive body last night, and how it had felt—how she had felt—and by the time David reached her her whole body was burning with the shocked heat of her own thoughts. Not because she now thoroughly rejected and regretted what had taken place, but because…because…
‘You do know that Jake wants you to go over to the Hall this morning, don’t you?’ he asked her predictably.
‘Yes, I know.’ Lucianna knew she was stumbling over the words in her vulnerable emotional state, the colour coming and going in her face.
It was no use trying to delude herself any longer. She couldn’t have experienced what she had last night—felt how she had last night, done what she had done last night—without at least feeling something for Jake, even if it was very difficult for her now, in the harsh light of day, to reconcile those feelings, those needs with the resentment and, yes, even animosity she had previously believed she felt for him.
Recognising that her mind simply wasn’t on her work, and that if she didn’t want David chasing her tail all day she would be better off simply giving in and going to see Jake, she automatically wiped her hands on a soft rag, wincing at the pain in her swollen fingers, and then headed for the house to get showered and changed.
Abruptly she stopped. Showered and changed…? What was wrong with going round to see Jake dressed as she presently was? After all, she had done so before on countless occasions. Why was this time different? Why did she feel this sudden need to have Jake see her looking her best?
Shyly and uncertainly Lucianna studied her reflection in her bedroom mirror. Her hair gleamed silkily down onto her shoulders, the make-up she had so painstakingly applied brought out the colour of her eyes and the purity of her skin, the lipstick…
She started to reach for a tissue to wipe it off and then stopped herself. The salesgirl had, after all, assured her that the soft colour was perfectly suitable for anytime wear. It was just perhaps that she wasn’t used to seeing it on her mouth and certainly it seemed to make her lips look much fuller, almost slightly swollen, or was that because…? Her hand was trembling as she put the unused tissue down.
Half of her dreaded the thought of seeing Jake but the other half…Her heart skipped a beat and then another. Could it be possible, could she somehow or other, without knowing it had happened, actually have fallen in love with Jake? And was that why…? Jake would know, she comforted herself automatically. Jake would understand…explain…Jake would…
A hot pink film of colour flooded her face as she realised just where her wanton thoughts were taking her. Jake would what? Jake would take her in his arms, kiss her senseless and then…
Suddenly the jeans and tee shirt she was wearing seemed far too heavy and hot. Suddenly her whole body was aching in very much the same way that it had ached last night. Suddenly…
Suddenly she couldn’t wait to see Jake, to be with him, to be reassured by him, to have him help her to understand and come to terms with the shock of what had happened.
Jake…He would, she knew, know just how she was feeling, just how shy and uncertain she was…just how much she needed his understanding…his…his love!
Jake frowned as he tried to focus his attention on the work on his desk. His head ached and his eyes felt gritty—no doubt from his lack of sleep last night, but how on earth could he have slept after what had happened? What had Lucianna thought, felt, when she woke up this morning? Did she hate him even more than ever now or…?
Of course she must. Why did he need to ask himself that question? The fact that he loved her was no excuse for the way he had lost his head, not to hi
mself and certainly not to her, and yet lying awake in his own bed last night, thinking about her, remembering how she had felt in his arms, how she had been in his arms, remembering the warmth of her, the sheer essence of her, a part of him that was unashamedly and wholly male could not totally regret what had happened.
He could not regret either that he had been the first one, the only one, to hear her cries of ecstatic pleasure, to hear her unguarded, untutored words of female arousal, and he knew that, whilst she might not have loved him, last night, for a small space of time, she had been wholly his to love and cherish, his to show the true depths of her own passion and needs as well as his own, his to hold, to cherish…to love…
But this morning, in the cold light of day, he had had to face reality—and her—and so he had rung David and asked David to make sure that she came to see him. What he had to say to her required privacy for them both, and time—time for him to make sure that she listened and fully understood that no part of what had happened between them was in any way her responsibility. That burden at least he could release her from. Under other circumstances and in a different relationship with another woman he might have been impelled to ask why, when she claimed to love another man so deeply, she had responded so intensely, so intuitively, so instinctively to him, but he suspected he already knew the answer and that was quite simply that Lucianna had responded to him because he had been there, because he had overpowered her, overwhelmed her with his own sexuality and his own needs.
Jake frowned as he saw an unfamiliar Toyota car draw up in front of the house. Turning away from the study window, he went to the front door, wondering if perhaps Lucianna was driving one of her customer’s cars. The young woman emerging from the car was vaguely familiar to him and her body language rather more so, although he didn’t betray by as much as a single glance that he was aware of the delicate provocation of the way his visitor was walking towards him, nor the way she paused to smooth her completely wrinkle-free skirt down over her thighs, giving him a long, slow smile as she did so.
‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised as she got within earshot of him. ‘I know you won’t remember me. I’m a friend of Lucianna’s, Felicity Hammond; we met in town a couple of weeks ago.’ She tossed her hair and smiled at him again.
‘I’ve just called at the farm but Lucianna wasn’t there and I wondered if you could possibly pass on a message to her for me. I wouldn’t ask but it is rather urgent. John, her boyfriend, faxed us this morning—I work in the same office—to say that he is coming home earlier than planned…I knew Lucianna would want to know. He’s obviously been missing her as much as she’s been missing him…’
She paused and glanced towards the door which Jake had pulled closed behind him.
‘This is a wonderful house,’ she told him appreciatively. ‘I’d love to see more of it…’
‘We don’t hold open days, I’m afraid,’ Jake told her impassively, and then added courteously, ‘I shall certainly see Lucianna gets your message but now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I’m rather busy…’
As he turned away Jake guessed that the unflattering flush burning her face owed more to anger than embarrassment. He wasn’t averse to women taking the initiative—far from it—and the reason he had taken such an intense dislike to her was not so much because of that but because she was the bearer of news he simply didn’t want to hear, he derided himself as he firmly closed the door behind himself, leaving her standing in the driveway.
So, John had missed Lucianna, had he? Well, it was a pity that he hadn’t appreciated her a little more when he had had the chance, Jake thought. And no doubt Lucianna would be thrilled to hear the news about his imminent return even if he wasn’t.
Would she tell John what had happened between them, and if she did would he…? For her own sake he would have to caution her not to do so, Jake told himself sternly. In fact, he would have to caution her not to tell anyone, he acknowledged, feeling fiercely aware of his need to protect her from the judgement of others.
Lucianna saw the Toyota emerging from the drive to Jake’s house just as she signalled to turn into it, and recognised both it and its driver immediately. She saw Felicity toss her head and give her a taunting smile, as though…Her whole body stiffening, Lucianna could feel her face starting to burn with the same heat that was savaging her emotions like acid.
The drive to Jake’s house wasn’t excessively long but it was certainly long enough for Lucianna to recognise immediately and pinpoint the cause of the searing, tearing spasm of anguished fury that had seized her the moment she’d seen the other girl.
She was jealous…jealous of the fact that another girl, another woman, had been with Jake…far more jealous than she had ever been when that same girl had flirted so outrageously in front of her with John.
And she was jealous because…because she and Jake had been lovers? Because she…because she…?
Jake heard the gears on Lucianna’s car crashing as her car catapulted to an ungainly stop, its wheels spurting up gravel, its driver shooting from her seat, her eyes flashing, her small hands balled into tight fists as he ran down the steps towards her.
‘What was she doing here?’ Lucianna demanded furiously, not giving Jake time to reply before she added, ‘Not that I can’t guess.’
Lucianna could barely see Jake for the hot tears stinging her eyes—tears almost as hot as the bitter, corrosive jealousy flooding her body and fuelled by an aching sense of loss and emptiness, coupled with a sick, shocked feeling of agonising despair.
‘She came to leave a message for you. Apparently John’s coming back earlier than expected.’
‘She…? John’s coming back…?’
Lucianna’s skin turned white and then red, the hot lava flow of her jealousy chilled by the sudden recognition of the appalling way she was behaving, of the feeling she was in danger of betraying, but Jake, seeing that rapid change of colour and the consternation that darkened her eyes, immediately leapt to the conclusion that they were caused by a sense of fear and guilt.
‘Come inside,’ he instructed Lucianna tersely. ‘We need to talk and we can’t do so out here.’
‘I want—’ Lucianna began, but Jake overruled her, opening the door and telling her harshly,
‘Oh, I can well imagine what you want, Lucianna, but I’m afraid it just isn’t possible for me to give it to you, so…’
He heard her gasp quite clearly over the three yards or so that separated them but luckily, from Lucianna’s point of view, she managed to drop her eyelids in defensive protection before he could see the tortured misery in her eyes.
She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t be more wrong and that his cruelty was completely unnecessary. She had not come here intending to tell him that she loved him nor to beg him to love her in return. She had too much pride for that, even if…And if he thought for one moment that just because last night…that she might want…that she was here…
‘You were the one who wanted to see me,’ she managed to remind him as she followed him reluctantly into the house, not needing any guidance or direction to turn off the elegant rectangular hallway—with its pretty Regency decor and the marble busts of Jake’s ancestors which had been commissioned by his great-great-grandfather adorning the shell-backed niches in which they were sited—into the small library which was Jake’s favourite room.
For once Lucianna did not sniff the air of the room appreciatively, breathing in the scent of old leather and wood, neither did she pause to admire the wonderfully crafted mahogany furniture as she drew in the ambience of the room and briefly envied Jake such a wonderful home.
‘What exactly did you want to see me about?’ she demanded instead, deliberately avoiding looking at Jake as she asked the question to which she suspected she already knew the answer.
Jake, it seemed, was equally unimpressed.
‘I shouldn’t have thought you’d need to ask. Do you really need to ask?’ he challenged her tersely. ‘Last night—’<
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‘Last night was nothing,’ Lucianna interrupted him hurriedly, still avoiding looking at him and so missing the look of stark pain that crossed his face as he listened to her.
‘Nothing to you, perhaps,’ he agreed quickly once he had himself back under control.
‘And nothing to you either,’ Lucianna cried out, unable to hold back the words—words which Jake incorrectly interpreted as a plea from her to be reassured that it had not meant anything to him, that he was not going to embarrass her with his unwanted protestations of love.
And so, bowing his head, he continued brusquely, ‘Nothing to either of us, maybe, but to others…I think it might be a wise and sensible course of action if what happened between us last night remained exactly that—between us…’
Now Lucianna did look at him.
‘You mean you don’t want anyone to know?’ she demanded scornfully.
‘Do you?’ Jake argued back angrily, and then pushed his fingers into his hair. ‘It isn’t a matter of what I might or might not want people to know, Lucianna. It’s you I’m thinking of. Your John will soon be home and the last thing he’s going to want to hear is that you…I’m telling you this for your own sake and not…
‘After all, the whole point of everything you’ve done…we’ve done,’ Jake told her doggedly, ‘has been to help your relationship with John…’
‘Is that why you took me to bed and made love to me?’ Lucianna cried, unable to endure any more. ‘Because it would help me to make John love me?
‘I hate you, Jake,’ she told him passionately. ‘I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone else in my whole life…’
And before Jake could stop her she ran out of the room, pulling open the front door and flinging herself back into her car.
‘Lucianna,’ Jake protested, but she had already got the engine started and short of dragging her out of the vehicle and forcibly manhandling her back into the house Jake knew he had no option other than to let her go.