No More Laters

by Coleen Singer

  Unable to resist his command, she opened her mouth and as Vicky began The Little Drummer Boy, she began to sing. Her voice rose in perfect harmony with Michael's, and everyone else in the room gradually faded into silence until they alone were singing.

  The Little Drummer Boy had always been Jill's favourite carol and it never failed to touch her emotions. She could feel the beauty of its melody and sentiments now rising up from her chest, filling her throat and bringing tears of joy and sadness to her eyes.

  Time stood still as she and Michael became one in the timeless worship of an infinite love. She was no longer aware of her physical self, of the room or the people in it. She was not even consciously aware of the moment Michael's arm slipped around her waist and she leaned back against him. Not, that is, until the last strains of the melody died away, leaving her limp and drained. There was one second of complete silence before the room filled with congratulatory applause from the others.

  "Hey, not bad!" Dave said, over his shoulder.

  "Not bad?" Vicky exclaimed. "That was exquisite."

  "It certainly was," Elizabeth agreed. "I'm afraid I can't hope to compete with you two. I think I might make a pot of tea instead."

  "Good idea," was the general response.

  "I'll give you a hand," Jack offered, following his wife to the kitchen.

  Throughout the others praise, Jill had been unable to move. Although she was blushing with delighted pleasure at the reception their duet was receiving, her attention was more focused on Michael's arm encircling her waist, and the pressure of his hard body against hers as he held her to him. Unable to get away without struggling, she had no choice but to remain still until he let her go. Fortunately, the others in the room seemed oblivious to her predicament. Dave had taken over at the piano and was incompetently tinkling out the semblance of a tune, Alistair had sat down on the couch and was flicking through a magazine, and Vicky was examining, with great curiosity, the parcels that had gathered under the tree during the afternoon.

  "Here, Roo," she said at last, continuing to poke amongst them, "I can't find one here for me."

  As she spoke, Michael's hand slid down from Jill's waist to run possessively over her bottom then, with a light pat, he released her.

  "Well," Vicky demanded, "explain yourself!"

  "I'm sorry," Jill countered, feigning seriousness and stifling the breathlessness caused by Michael's caress. "I just decided not to give you a present this year."

  "Huh! A likely story. Now tell the truth."

  "Hey, Ali, control your wife," said Dave, allowing everyone's ears a momentary respite from his musicianship.

  "Sorry, not possible," came the calm reply from behind the magazine to which Alistair had retreated at the commencement of Dave's playing. "I'm afraid that when it comes to presents or surprises the woman is entirely without shame. But, perhaps, darling," he suggested, "Jill is telling the truth."

  "You're not, are you?" A hint of wistfulness had crept into Vicky's voice and Jill smiled.

  "Well, okay, I haven't anything yet, but—" she conceded, "if we go into town, I might just be able to conjure up a little something, and now my lips are sealed. You'll just have to wait patiently."

  "Goodness, I hope that's not Vicky you're speaking to," said Elizabeth, coming in at that moment with the supper tray. "You know waiting patiently for anything has never been one of her strong points."

  The good-natured banter continued while they enjoyed supper, although Jill noticed that Elizabeth was unusually quiet and looked quite worn out.

  Jack apparently noticed too. As she moved to clear away the dishes when they had finished, he gently held her back. "You go on to bed, love," he told her. "Someone else will do that."

  "I don't seem to have done much tonight," Jill said somewhat untruthfully as she stacked the cups and saucers. "Please, let me do it."

  "I'll help," Michael offered quickly, bending to kiss his mother on the cheek. "Go on, Mum. You and Dad go to bed."

  Elizabeth seemed grateful to acquiesce and the others decided to call it a night as well. So it was that a few minutes later, Jill found herself alone in the kitchen with Michael. Inevitably now, it appeared, his nearness produced the same physical effect as each time she'd been close to him since her arrival. Determined, however, not to let it show, she ignored it and asked the question that was troubling her. "Is Mum all right?"

  "Sort of," was the enigmatic reply, which scarcely allayed her fears. "Actually, she's got a bit of trouble with her heart. Now don't panic," he added quickly, seeing the look of dismay on Jill's face at the news. "The doctor assures us she's in no immediate danger, but she does get tired if she overdoes it. There's a possibility she may need an operation sometime in the future, but her condition is fixable, so don't look so worried, okay?"

  "Does Vicky know about this?" Jill asked. "She hasn't mentioned it to me at all."

  "I'm not sure. Mum may not have said anything because she knows Vicky will fuss over her, and she doesn't want that. I'm sure she'll tell her anything she needs to know. Now," he said, firmly changing the subject. "Have you finished there? That seems to be all the dishes done."

  "Yes, all finished, so I guess I'll go upstairs too."

  "Not quite yet," he told her. "There's something I've been waiting all evening for first." So saying, he took her by the hand, and by surprise, and led her from the room.

  Chapter Three

  "Where are you taking me?" Jill managed to blurt out.

  "You'll see," was Michael's only response as he purposefully led her by the hand from the kitchen and through the dining room, coming to an abrupt halt in the doorway beneath the mistletoe. Turning her to face him, he slipped both arms about her waist and drew her gently toward him.

  In a flash, as she felt her body mould against his as his eyes looked so deeply into hers she was sure he could see into her heart. His hold tightened pulling her even closer, she knew that more than anything else in the world, she wanted this man to kiss her with all the tenderness, passion and love with which she'd earlier seen his sister kissed by her husband in this very same spot. She wanted it so badly in fact, that she was terrified by the strength of the unfamiliar emotion.

  "No," she gasped. "Michael, I...."

  "Shh," he cut short her protestations. "I've never kissed a city girl under the mistletoe before, and I mean to find out what I've been missing."

  So saying, he bent down and ever so gently covered her mouth with his. At the first unbearably tantalizing touch, all resistance evaporated leaving Jill limp and powerless against him. A low moan escaped her, but she was so lost in the sensuality of his nearness, his touch, his mouth, that she heard it off in the distance unaware even that it had emanated from her.

  Like the kiss from a zephyr, his lips brushed over hers, gently teasing open the secret place where her passion had been so long hidden. In a desperate bid to protect herself from this unfamiliar emotion, she raised her hands, but listening to her heart and not her head, instead of pushing him away, they encircled his neck, her fingers entwining amongst the thickness of his hair.

  Responding instinctively, she pressed herself harder against him, aching for release from the tortuous lightness of his touch. For a moment, he raised his mouth from hers and looked down at her in his arms, his eyes carrying a cryptic mix of messages Jill was unable to decipher. Although she was sure there was tenderness, there was something else, too, something hidden and troubled, but before she had time to dwell on what it might be, his mouth had descended once more, and this time he made no attempt to restrain his desire. His arms tightened as though he wanted to crush the breath from her, and his mouth was now hard and demanding as it sought out every secret place and drop of sweetness within.

  Having not experienced the full brunt of male passion previously, Jill found herself overwhelmed by its sheer ferocity. Unable to cope, she turned rigid in his arms as she struggled to break free.

  He didn't immediately release her, but his k
iss lost its uncontrolled wildness and reverted to its earlier gentleness until Jill relaxed and returned his softer kiss. When he finally drew away, Michael leant back and looked at her cradled in his arms.

  "Well, I'm not so sure now that that was such a good idea," he said, and Jill felt her heart sink and her cheeks pinked with embarrassment. She could understand his disappointment. How could he have known that not only did she not know how to kiss properly, but given the opportunity to learn, she would make a mess of it?

  "No, I guess it wasn't very nice for you," she whispered miserably.

  "On the contrary," he grinned. "That's not the reason at all. It's just that I rather think I'm going to want to do it again as soon as I get another opportunity, and maybe that won't be such a good idea, do you think?"

  "No," stammered Jill, momentarily uncertain about why it wouldn't be a good idea, and then she remembered he was practically engaged to someone else. "No," and this time her answer was emphatic. "No, not a good idea at all."

  She saw his eyes darken and his lips tighten at her words, but steeled herself to meet his gaze unflinchingly. She didn't want him thinking she was available for a casual dalliance on the side. For a moment, he just looked at her, as if deciding what his next move might be, then with a quick shrug of his shoulders, he dropped his arms to his sides.

  "Very well, I'm sure you're right. I shall have to control myself then, won't I? But don't think that because I've agreed to try and refrain from kissing you, that I won't be spanking you again if you deserve it."

  Jill opened her mouth to reply, but he didn't wait to hear what she was going to say. With a last sharp kiss he was gone, leaving her lips slightly bruised, her emotions in turmoil, and an inexplicable feeling of desolation as she stood in the now empty room.

  * * * * *

  After a late breakfast by the pool the next morning, Jill reminded Vicky that they'd arranged to go to the Post Office. Vicky, sensing a surprise in the air, was only too willing to organize the trip, and by the time they set off, they'd agreed to pick up the ordered newspapers and magazines from the newsagent, the mail from the Post Office and the last minute supplies for Christmas, now only two days away.

  "Okay," teased Alistair, thirty minutes later when they pulled up outside the supermarket in the main street, "we may as well do everything else first and then go to the Post Office last."

  "Well, I think you're both really mean," grumbled Vicky as they entered the supermarket and selected a trolley to fill with groceries. She had spent the whole trip trying to wheedle any information she could about what might be inside the mystery parcel Jill was picking up from the Post Office, but had had no success at all.

  "That's it, then," said Alistair some time later as they loaded the last of their purchases into the car. It had taken quite some time to accomplish all their tasks, with so many people recognising Vicky especially, but some of them Jill as well, and all wanting to say hello and stop for a chat. "Off to the Post Office, and then home."

  "Not quite," muttered Vicky looking over his shoulder. "Don't look now but I think we're about to be accosted."

  Alistair and Jill noted with the surprise the fixed smile into which Vicky's features had frozen and turning to follow her gaze saw a young woman, elegantly clad and exquisitely made up, sauntering towards them.

  "Why, hello, Victoria," she purred. "I believe congratulations are in order. Is this the lucky man?" She turned to Alistair, treating him to the full effect of her dazzling smile, displaying two rows of perfectly white and even teeth as she did so.

  "Yes," said Vicky. The newcomer continued to study Alistair for a moment in silence, then with a tiny shake of her head, she arched one meticulously pencilled eyebrow and pouted at Vicky.

  "Well?"

  "Oh, I beg your pardon," Vicky's face darkened. "Rachel, this is my husband, Alistair Fenton. Ali, Rachel Longroh. Her family owns Two Springs."

  "How do you do?" Alistair took the manicured hand that was being delicately offered.

  "Charmed, I'm sure," murmured Rachel, still holding his hand. "I am so sorry I missed the wedding. Unfortunately, I was sunning myself on the beaches of Spain. Do you like Spain? I find it rather tedious after a while, don't you? I would much rather have been here to see you all dressed up in your wedding suit. I imagine you cut a most dashing figure."

  Throughout her speech, she kept Alistair's hand captive in hers and continued to look him directly in the eyes, totally ignoring the presence of the women. Now with a last smile and subtle lowering of her eyelashes she released his hand and turned brusquely to Vicky.

  "I heard your dress was very sweet, Victoria, and everyone seemed to have enjoyed the little party afterwards. I do think it was so unfair of you to have your wedding whilst I was overseas on holiday."

  "Gee, I'm sorry, Rachel. I know it was very thoughtless of me, and it was a shame we had to endure your absence," Vicky countered, "but I do promise not to have any more weddings when you're overseas."

  "Well, I shall certainly be expecting you and your handsome husband at my wedding, so I hope you're not planning to go overseas in the next few months. It's important for family to be there, don't you think? Now I really must be going. I'm afraid I am very busy and don't have time to just stand around and chat all day. I suppose I'll see you at the charity sing-song tomorrow night? Such a bore," she sighed as she turned to leave, then stopped and added over one shoulder. "Victoria, do be a darling and remind Michael I'm expecting him at 7, unless he'd like to come a bit earlier. Well, see you all tomorrow then, unless Michael and I think of something more interesting to do, that is," and with a sultry toss of her head and the barest of winks she was gone.

  "Whew!" whistled Alistair as he watched her swaying up the street.

  "Poisonous woman," spat Vicky as she opened the passenger door of the ute and slid across to the middle of the seat. "Come on, let's get going before she changes her mind and comes back."

  "I take it she's not one of your long-lost buddies, then," grinned her husband as he clicked on his seatbelt and started the engine.

  "Ha! I'd rather have a tiger snake for a friend any day of the week. Wouldn't you, Roo?"

  "Luckily, I seem to have been invisible."

  "Oh, I would have been too, don't worry about that, except she wanted to get a close look at Ali."

  Further conversation on the topic of Rachel was deferred as they arrived at the Post Office. When they emerged, Vicky had the mail for the farm, and Jill was carrying a large postbag with Melbourne postmarks.

  "Here, I'll take that on my lap for you," Vicky offered.

  "You've got to be kidding!" Jill laughed. "I'm putting this in the tray well out of harm's way. I don't want it poked and prodded beyond recognition."

  "Well," Vicky said indignantly, "that's charming, I must say! I'm supposed to be your best friend and you don't even trust me."

  "Wise woman," Ali chuckled as he pointed the car back along the road leading out of town toward the farm. "Do we pass Rachel's farm?" he asked with idle curiosity, the car gathering speed as the town limits receded behind them.

  "No," Vicky answered. "Not this way. You know, it's not a very pleasant thought, but it does look as though Mum might have been right about Michael and Rachel planning to marry."

  At her words, an invisible icy shroud fell over Jill causing her to shiver suddenly, and she turned her face to the window, afraid the sick dread settling in her stomach might be reflected in her face.

  "Well, she might not be my first choice for a sister-in-law," Vicky continued, obviously oblivious to Jill's reaction to her previous comment, "but I think it would please Mum and Dad." She turned to Jill who had sufficiently recovered her composure to be able to meet her friend's gaze. "I've been meaning to tell you, Roo, that Mum's not been very well lately," she began gently.

  "Yes, I know. Michael told me last night, but he said there's no need for concern."

  "Yes, that's true, but the doctor has told her that she still has
to take things easy, and I think Dad is planning to take her on a long holiday, to force her to relax and rest. Mum said he's even mentioned retiring, and there's no need for him to work so hard, or at all if he doesn't want to. So, I think they're sort of hoping that Michael will marry Rachel and then they can go off and leave them to run the farm. Mum wouldn't have to worry about Michael being looked after, and Dad would be thrilled because with Rachel being an only child, she'll inherit Two Springs eventually, and that will mean the merger of the two best farms in the district."

  "I can't say Rachel looks much like a farmer's wife to me," Ali observed drily.

  "I'll say," agreed Vicky. "I'm sure she pictures herself more as the lady of the manor than a farmer's wife. Somehow, I don't think she'd have looked twice at Michael if he were a poor struggling farmer. You can bet she isn't planning to do more work than is absolutely necessary after their marriage, not if she can hire someone else to do it."

  "You think she only wants Michael for his money? Not a very nice thing to say about your brother, you know."

  "Oh, Ali! No, I don't suppose she's only after Michael's money, but I'm sure she wouldn't have entertained the thought of marrying him if he were poor. Anyway, Michael isn't such a fool that he wouldn't know if a woman was only after his money. No, I have to admit that if he is going to marry her, he must know what he's doing."

  I wish I knew what he was doing, Jill found herself thinking as Vicky and Ali drifted onto another topic. She had been caught totally off-guard when he had kissed her the previous evening, and had spent a feverish night trying to work out what his motive for doing so could possibly be. Now with confirmation of his plan to marry Rachel, any honourable intention was ruled out and the only explanation left was that, about to tie himself to one woman, he had decided to sew a few last wild oats with another.

  Well, there was no way she was going to be anyone's wild oats, Jill decided firmly. She would have to avoid Michael wherever possible and, if he tried to kiss her again, she would make it clear to him that just because she was handy, it didn't mean she was available.