"He would have found another place. Zachary's a resourceful chap, you know."
She could believe it, but did not say so, unwilling to talk about Zachary for reasons she could not define.
Supper over, they returned to the drawing room for coffee. Larry turned on the tape deck and a Haydn symphony infiltrated into all four corners. With an exclamation Larry turned it off.
"Not my cup of tea," he said and inserted a fresh cassette.
The liquid notes of Ella Fitzgerald took over and Samantha sighed, infinitely preferring to have heard the Haydn at this particular moment. Had Zachary been here, she knew he would have preferred it, too. Yet how did she know? She pondered on the question and decided it could only be intuition. Yet intuition also told her that a man who spent his leisure designing and making intricate and beautiful furniture, could not find pleasure with such an obvious woman as Marie Bergerac. However, in this case intuition was wrong. Zachary not only found pleasure with Marie, but sufficient of it to keep him enthralled for more than a year. It was a chastening thought to acknowledge that the man, for all his farseeing sharpness in business, could have fallen foul of an alluring body and provocative face.
With a start she felt Larry's arm come around her. He pulled her back against him and placed his cheek on hers. His breath smelled of whisky and wine, reminding her that though she had drunk sparingly, he had not done the same. Fear trembled through her and he took it for a different kind of emotion and ran his lips along her cheek.
"Relax, Samantha. No one will come in and disturb us. Kiss me, sweetheart."
"It's late. We should be leaving."
"What's the hurry?"
"We've a long drive back."
"Then why bother to go?" His lips found the corner of her mouth. "There's no reason for us to rush back. We can stay here tonight and have the whole day here tomorrow."
"I'm going out tomorrow."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true." She tried to pull away from him hut his grip tightened. Sensing it would be wrong to try a show of strength with him, she again forced herself to relax. "It's been a lovely evening, Larry, but I really do have to get back to town."
"Kiss me first. You are so cool, Samantha, so untouched."
As if fired by his own words, his fingers dug painfully into her back as he pressed her down upon the settee and leaned his body heavily on hers. It was impossible to avoid his kiss. She tried not to be sickened by the moistness of his mouth and his heavy breathing. She did not want Larry to hold her and touch her, and most of all she did not want him to kiss her.
"Relax," he whispered and moved his hands lightly over her breasts.
"Larry, don't!" She caught hold of his arm and held it still.
"Why not?" he pleaded. "You don't need to be afraid of me, Samantha."
"I'm not.
"Are you afraid of yourself?"
The conceit of the remark almost made her laugh, but she stopped herself in time. Larry had a sense of humor but it was not strong enough to enable him to laugh at himself.
"Yes," she lied. "You're so handsome and strong that…" She let the rest of her words trail away, holding back an urge to kick him as she heard him give a sigh of satisfaction.
"I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, angel. I only want to love you. To make you happy." As he spoke he started to lower the zipper of her dress. His movements were as expert as his caressing voice, but she was equally expert in avoidance and she wriggled free of him and stood up.
"I really must be getting back to town, Larry. If you want to stay the night, I'm sure I can get a train."
"Don't be silly! If you're determined to go, I'll drive you back. There's no fun in staying here by myself." He rose and came toward her. "Why not change your mind and stay?"
"I haven't any change of clothes with me."
"You don't need anything." His arms came round her and his lids lowered over slumberous eyes. "I'll keep you warm."
"Not warm enough," she said lightly.
"Try me."
"Another time."
He sighed. "What a difficult girl you are to please. But I'm not the type to give up easily, so be warned."
"I'll bear it in mind." Still keeping her voice light she pushed him toward the door.
Not until they were in the car and heading north did Samantha breathe a sigh of relief. In future nothing would induce her to be alone with
Larry. In a restaurant or theater he was manageable, but when no one was within call he Could become hard to handle. The car slowed clown and the sound of the engine died as Larry brought the car to a halt in a picnic site at the Hide of the road.
"What's wrong?" she asked, keeping her voice cool.
"Nothing." He moved across the space between them and pinioned her against the door. "You can't escape from me here, my angel. You're mine now. All mine." His hands were heavy on her but she was still determined not to show any fear.
"Don't be silly, Larry. It's late. Let's get back to town."
"Why all the rush? If you do have a date with someone else, it isn't until tomorrow. That's hours away. We've got all the time in the world."
"It's cold in the car." She pressed her hands against his chest. "You can come up to the flat when we get back. It will be more comfortable there."
"We can be just as comfortable here." He half turned and pressed a knob on the dashboard. The entire front seat rolled down and Samantha went down with it, caught off balance by the unexpected movement. Before she could struggle up into a sitting position, Larry was on top of her, his breath hot against her neck. She went on struggling to rise but his weight prevented her, and though she tried to slide out from underneath him, he prevented this too by moving his legs and blocking her body.
"Please," she said urgently.
"You needn't say please," he said huskily, "I'm only too willing."
"That wasn't what I meant." She pushed against him. "Larry, don't be silly. You're hurting me."
"Then stop struggling."
"Then let me go."
"No. I want you, Samantha. I don't know how I've kept my hands off you all day. Stop pretending you don't feel the same about me. Let yourself go." He rained kisses upon her face and throat and along the curve of her breasts.
Goose pimples rose on her skin and she suppressed a shudder of loathing. "Let me go, Larry!"
"Kiss me," he said, ignoring her plea and roughly cupping her chin. "Kiss me."
She tried to resist him but his hold was too strong and she was powerless to move as his head came down. His mouth was soft and hot, his tongue moist as he tried to part her lips. She clenched her teeth and he shifted himself and rested more heavily on her. "Kiss me," he commanded. "Don't be so frigid."
"Let me—" Even as she started to speak she knew she had made a mistake, for his tongue shot forward. His penetration sickened her and, with a strength she had not known she possessed, she gave him a violent shove. He slipped on to his side and with a quick wrench she slid forward on the seat and reached for the door handle. Miraculously her hand found it at the first attempt. It turned beneath her grasp and the door swung open so that she half fell out onto the ground. Not waiting to straighten properly she scrambled away from the car, only standing upright when she reached the road.
"Samantha!" Larry called. "Come back."
Ignoring him, she ran headlong down the road. His steps sounded behind her and she ran faster. The road was lit by moonlight and, had there not been a bend in it, she would never have escaped him. But it curved sharply to the left and as she raced round the corner she saw a gap in the hedge. Without thinking what might be on the other side, she dived through and crouched down on the earth, her heart beating so fast with fear that she almost did not hear his steps running past. But his voice was loud in her ears, calling her name and commanding her to stop.
"Samantha—don't be a fool. You can't get away from me. Come back and I'll drive you home."
She crouched lower still,
praying he did not see the gap in the hedge and come to investigate it. His steps were almost upon her, the soles of his shoes crunching the pebbles on the verge.
"You must be here somewhere," he muttered and then raised his voice. "I'll wait for you in the car. Stop acting like a fool and come back."
His footsteps receded and there was the slamming of a door and then silence.
Slowly Samantha moved her cramped limbs and quietly raised herself. Though Larry had returned to the car and was out of sight, she would have to move quietly in order for him not to hear her. Keeping in the shadow of the hedge where her steps would make no sound on the soft earth, she began to run again, increasing her pace as she left the car farther behind her. Not until she had gone a couple of hundred yards did she dare come out on the main road.
She had no idea where she was. Only that she was somewhere in the countryside, seemingly miles from civilization. Surely there was a house or a farm nearby where she could seek shelter, or possibly use the telephone and get a car; do anything, in fact, except return to where Larry was waiting for her? He had said he would take her back to London but she didn't believe him. She had been fool enough to stay for dinner with him, without, being more of a fool and going back to him.
In the distance an engine revved and she gave a gasp of fright and ran faster. There was a pain in her side and she pressed her hand to it. The engine was louder now but it was impossible for her to run any faster. Another moment and it would be on top of her, barring her escape.
Headlights blinded her and there was a sharp screech of brakes as she flung herself into the hedge to avoid the impact of a wheel.
"What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?" a furious voice demanded and, with an exclamation of disbelief, she turned her terror- stricken face and saw Zachary Farrell scowling down at her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Without quite knowing how, Samantha found herself sitting beside Zachary in his car, watching silently as he made a skillful turn in the narrow lane and sent the car heading back the way he had come.
"You weren't going in this direction," she said, surprised.
"But you were." His tone was abrupt. "And short of leaving you to my cousin's tender mercies, the only alternative is to drive you to town myself."
"That's an awful nuisance for you."
His silence did not add to her comfort and she shifted in her seat. How typical of Zachary not to bother with the convention of social politeness. It was a nuisance for him to take her home and he had no intention of pretending otherwise. A half smile curved her mouth. She should know better than to expect him to act out of character. The one thing she had learned so far about Zachary Farrell was that he called a spade a spade. Because of this, many people thought him hard, though far more saw him as forthright and honest.
"I would be more than happy for you to drop me off at the nearest station," she said into the silence, "or even at a garage."
"You wouldn't be able to hire a car at this time of night."
"I could try. I feel guilty at making you do a double journey."
"Forget it," he said briefly. "I'll spend the night in town."
She was annoyed at having forgotten he had a home in London, too, and curiosity made her ask him why he hadn't stayed in town, anyway, instead of driving back so late.
"I enjoy my weekends in the country," he explained. "Besides, I had a feeling my return would be welcomed."
She digested this, then said slowly, "Has this sort of thing happened before?"
"Surely you know Larry well enough to have realized that?"
Reluctant to appear a complete fool, Samantha spoke again with even more honesty. "I thought you and Marie were staying on with us. Otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to remain here on my own."
"I wondered about that," Zachary gave her a quick glance, "but I wasn't quite sure."
"You should have given me the benefit of the doubt."
"Why else do you think I came back? You would have had a long hike to London if I hadn't."
She shivered and automatically glanced over her shoulder. But there was no car following them, only the empty road stretching behind. "Do you think Larry's gone back to your home?"
"Probably. I don't expect he'll come chasing after me—if that's what you're asking."
"Must you sound so smug?"
"I didn't realize I was." There was surprise in li is voice.
"You can't blame me for what happened," she continued sharply. "I've been out with Larry quite a few times and he—he's never lunged at me before."
"You were lucky. You are a beautiful girl, Samantha. I'm sure other men—apart from Larry—have made a pass at you."
"The others have known when to stop," she flared.
The car lost speed so suddenly that she jerked forward in her seat.
"You don't mean he—"
"No, I don't," she cut in, "but he had a darn good try." She was furious to hear a tremble in her voice and it told her she had been more distressed by her scene with Larry than she had realized. Had it happened in London she would have taken it in her stride, but to do battle with a man in a deserted country lane miles from anywhere, was not the most pleasant of experiences. "It was silly of me to get upset," she murmured. "But it was unexpected and—"
"Forget it," Zachary ordered. "At the very worst you would have ended up with a torn dress. Larry isn't the type to commit rape."
"Is that a loyal assumption or do you speak from knowledge?"
A smile quirked his lips. "I grew up with him. I know him as well as I know myself."
She wondered if Larry knew Zachary in the same way. Somehow she doubted it. The man beside her had unplumbed depths that few people would be given the chance to fathom.
"If you enjoy your weekends in the country," she asked, "why didn't you and Marie stay at the house tonight? "
"Because she's leaving for the States first thing in the morning. Her father has a new play opening on Broadway and she is going over for the first night."
He lifted his foot off the accelerator as he rummaged in the dashboard pocket and brought out a small, silver flask. "It's brandy," he explained. "Have a swig. It will make you feel better."
"I feel fine, thank you."
"You're shivering."
"Only because I'm cold."
"Why didn't you say so. I can turn on the heater."
He did so and instantly warm air filled the car. It helped Samantha to relax and she made herself more comfortable. This was the longest time she had spent in Zachary's company and it was amazing how at ease she felt with him. She did not feel impelled to make conversation nor was she apprehensive when he slowed the car and then stopped. With a deft movement he took off his jacket and slung it over the back seat, then resumed driving.
"Thank you for the compliment," he said softly.
"What compliment?"
"The one of trust."
"You aren't the lunging type."
"That isn't the answer a bachelor likes to hear. You should have said I am obviously trustworthy and dependable and have iron control!"
"I'm sure you have. But I still can't see you as a wolf."
"A black sheep, then?"
"A dappled one," she giggled and hearing herself laugh, marveled that she could be having such a light-hearted conversation with Zachary Farrell.
"It was a lovely garden party," she said, "and it was awfully kind of you to turn your home upside down for it."
"I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing this year," he admitted. "I thought the staff might have preferred a dinner in a West End restaurant with dancing and a cabaret."
"Some of them would," she said, "but I think most of them appreciated coming to your home. Maybe you could do both next year."
"That isn't a very businesslike suggestion."
"I wasn't thinking of the cost." She was deflated by his comment. "Do you always think in monetary terms?"
"If it has to do with business, yes.
That's something you must learn as well, Samantha."
"I'm not a businesswoman."
"You have ten percent of Farrell's voting stock. I can't think of a better reason for taking an interest in business."
"I don't intend to keep those shares forever, Zachary. You know that."
"Why should I know it?"
Surprise made her give him a direct stare. "Because I told Larry. I naturally assumed he would tell you."
Zachary's silence told her she had assumed wrongly. Her annoyance with Larry increased. Had he kept the information to himself deliberately or had it been an oversight? Yet why wouldn't he have wanted Zachary to know she intended to return the shares the moment she could?
"You're nearly home," Zachary said, and she looked up to see they were driving along Sloane Street.
"You've made wonderful time."
"The weather is good, too."
"I wasn't just making conversation," she said sharply. "I meant it."
"I know. But my answer was meant as a joke."
The car stopped outside the. flat and she swiveled to face him.
"I'm sorry, Zachary, I didn't know. I guess there are a lot of things I don't know about you, but I'm learning all the time."
"I'm flattered you should want to bother."
She saw his remark as a warning and in silence opened the door. At once he was beside her on't he pavement, walking with her to the entrance of the apartment house.
"I hope that when you come to my home next time, Samantha, it won't have such an unfortunate end."
"This end has been very pleasant." She held out her hand. "Thank you for being so kind."
He caught her hand in his large one and held it for a moment. Then with an abrupt "Goodnight," he strode across to the car, climbed in, and drove off.
Her thoughts were still occupied with Zachary as she let herself into her apartment and prepared for bed. What an unexpected end it had been to the evening, and how lucky that Zachary had found her. She remembered why he had said he had not remained in London and felt ridiculously pleased that he had been sufficiently worried about her to think she might need him. Still, it would have been more to the point if he had warned her in the first place. She frowned at her reflection as she finished cleaning her teeth. Had he done so she would have refused to listen. She might even have believed he was trying to make mischief between herself and Larry. Instead of which she now found herself thinking of him in a far friendlier way than she had thought possible when she had gone down to his home this morning.
Roberta Leigh - Love in Store Page 10