Microsoft Word - rooted sorrow.doc

by Amanda Cameron

  Keir slid both his arms beneath her and lifted her into a sitting position, where they clung to each other and rocked to and fro. He laid her down again and covered her with his body; then rolled on to his back, lifting Libby with him so that she looked down at his face. Their eyes opened and met, gravely but with perfect understanding, and she knew that nothing could now come between them and the completion of their love, whatever the future might bring.

  And then, just as Keir's look had changed to one of enquiry and Libby's eyes were answering him yes, yes, don't wait a second longer, the world was split by the angry shriek of the telephone. It shrilled in Libby's ear, sending her with a violent jerk to the other side of the bed, wrenching her out of Keir's arms in her shock and sending a wave of sudden and unreasonable terror through her mind.

  'Don't listen to it,' Keir panted, reaching for her again. 'Don't listen to it, Libby-ah, come back to me, my sweet, and come back-'

  But the telephone would not be silenced. On and on, it shrilled, and the moment was shattered. Libby lay in Keir's arms, still breathing quickly; wanting desperately to feel again the soaring delight that seemed to have deserted her. Tentatively, she ran her hand down his back and felt him shiver; but still the shrieking continued and, with a sigh, Keir rolled over and lifted the receiver.

  'Yes,' he said curtly, and Libby wondered whom it could be, ringing so late at night. 'Yes, this is Keir Salinger. Who is that? I'm sorry, I don't re-I beg your pardon? You're-who? And you say- But I don 't-Look, listen a moment, I- Hullo? Hullo?' He waited a moment, his face a mixture of emotions, then he thrust the receiver back on to its rest and turned to Libby, his face and eyes blank.

  'That was a woman,' he said tonelessly. 'She says she knows me. She says she's coming here-soon-to see me. She seems to think I'll welcome her.' He paused and Libby watched his face, feeling suddenly afraid. 'She says her name is Pia.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  'PIA!'

  Libby stared at him, shock freezing her body as she lay, half-raised on one elbow, on the tumbled bed.

  Pia-the Italian Contessa--coming here, to Malta, to see Keir! What did it mean? And how was it going to affect her future-her future with Keir?

  But did she have any future with Keir? With a thrill of dismay, she realised just what had been happening-had been about to happen. If Pia's telephone call hadn't come at just that moment, she would have been irrevocably committed to Keir-and he? Would he have been equally committed to her? Oh, he would have said so, no doubt, and believed it, too, but when he saw Pia again, what then? Would the memory of those months spent with the Italian woman have returned to him, and would he have realised that she was the woman he loved, and not Libby at all?

  Oh God, what a mess! The thoughts ran through Libby's brain like frightened ants, searching for home and finding only dead-ends, with no conclusion, no safety. She rubbed a cold hand over her face and realised suddenly that she was still naked-and that Keir was watching her, his eyes dark with newly-dawning passion.

  No! With a quick squirm of her slim body, Libby scrambled off the bed and grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be Keir's navy towelling robe. She wrapped it round her, hiding her trembling body from that scorching gaze, and backed away towards the door.

  'Libby?' Keir's voice caught her before she could escape, its deep roughness stopping her in her tracks.

  'Libby, where are you going? What is it?'

  'Where am I going?' she gasped. 'Back to my own room, of course-where else? You can't expect me to ...

  '

  Keir was off the bed with a swing of long, muscular legs and Libby fumbled for the door, terror shuddering through her body. But he was too quick for her; one powerful hand closed around both her wrists and the other caught at the back of her neck, holding her powerless. His eyes were almost black now, glittering with emotion as they searched her face, and she was overwhelmingly aware of his naked body and the sheer animal strength of the muscles that rippled under the tanned skin.

  'Back to your own room?' he rasped. 'And would you mind telling me just why? We were beginning to get somewhere at last-if it hadn't been for that damned phone call we'd have been in another world by now.

  So what's the problem? Still worried for your virginity, is that it? Well, I took pretty good care of that myself two years ago, but you don't expect me to believe it's lasted this long? Not with the way you were then, Libby? You were begging for it, you know you were-and I don't suppose that changed just because I wasn't on the scene anymore!'

  Libby stared at him helplessly. She knew that it would be almost impossible to persuade him that she had indeed remained a virgin since their engagement-that no other man had ever affected her the way Keir had, and still did. Even now, the warm virility emanating from his body was sending waves of desire surging through her, making her feel weak and dizzy. But she mustn't let them control her; however angry Keir's frustration might make him, this was one time when she mustn't give in.

  'Well?' he growled. 'Are you going to give me an answer, or am I going to put an end to your blow-hot, blow-cold games by carrying you back to the bed and finishing what we started, by force if necessary?'

  'Nor Libby panted, struggling frantically in his arms. 'No, Keir, you wouldn't-'

  'Wouldn't I?' he taunted, pulling her closer. 'What makes you so sure of that, Libby?' Ignoring her gasp, he moved his body sensuously against hers, so that the rough towelling of the robe accentuated his hardness. 'Do you know something?' he growled, his breath warm in her ear. 'I'm beginning to wonder if this isn't all some game you're playing with me. It's all to do with that quarrel we had, isn't it? You're still holding some deep grudge against me and this is your way of punishing me-come out here and flaunt yourself at me, knowing I'm vulnerable, knowing I don't remember anything about it and can only-remember being in love with you. My God!' He held her away from him and stared down at her, his face pale and a muscle twitching in his cheek. 'Is that it, Libby? Is this some hellish kind of punishment you're inflicting on me? Because if it is, I swear I'll make you sorry for it! Your nasty little game has backfired badly, my sweet, and now I'm the one who's going to do the punishing!'

  Libby's struggles became frantic, but they could have been the struggles of a butterfly for all the effect they had on Keir as he whipped her off her feet and carried her back to throw her on the bed. The gentleness he had displayed earlier had vanished as he flung himself down to cover her body, thrusting aside the robe with cruel fingers before he gripped both her wrists in one strong hand and pinned her flailing legs down with his own.

  'Let me go!' Libby cried, using her teeth as her only weapon and biting the hard shoulder that was all she could reach. 'Keir, I beg you-don't do it! I wasn't trying to punish you; you've got it all wrong. Keir, you're hurting me-let me go, let me go!'

  Keir raised his head slightly and his eyes met hers. She quailed at the expression in them; it was a look of almost maniacal fury, a look she had never encountered before. But even in her fear, she could understand what had brought that look there. All the bewilderment and frustrations of the past months, culminating in her own appearance and the difficulties of their own relationship, known only to her while Keir was, in his own mind, simply in love with her-all that had led to the events of this evening and, just when Keir must have thought that everything was coming right, Pia had rung and Libby had tried to escape him yet again. No wonder he had given rein at last to those animal passions that were so near the surface and so firmly repressed. Keir had shown iron control, she thought, from the days of their engagement to the reunion. But nobody could repress every emotion and not suffer for it. And Keir was suffering now. And so was she!

  All the same, she had to stop him somehow. She had to prevent him from unleashing those frightening forces of his darker side. And not just for her own sake-for his, too. He would never be able to forgive himself, she knew, if he lost control so far as to take her by force. Keir just wasn't that kind of man.r />
  Keir was gathering himself now for the final battle, and she had to act quickly. Still dizzy from the closeness of his body, still half-longing to submit, Libby tensed her body against his and, as he lifted himself above her, pushed hard. He wasn't ready and she managed to draw her knees up, thrusting hard against his chest, then twisting sideways on the bed. She was half off it by the time Keir recovered and reached for her, but although he dragged her back he had lost his advantage and Libby remained curled up against him, resisting his efforts to uncoil her.

  'Don't try me too far, Libby,' he muttered between his teeth, and laid his mouth on hers.

  His lips bruised hers but Libby let him part them; then she bit hard, past caring what injury she might inflict, and to her relief Keir jerked back, letting go of her so that she could twist right off the bed and grab the robe on her way to the door.

  'You little fiend!' he ground out, but Libby had the door open before he could follow her this time and stood there, knowing she could slam it before he reached her.

  'Don't come after me again, Keir,' she warned him. 'I'll fight you tooth and nail-and I mean that literally. '

  She bit her own lip, regretting her violence, but aware that it had been necessary, for Keir's self-respect as much as for her own. 'You must know it won't work that way,' she went on, half-pleadingly. 'You're not the kind of man to enjoy rape-and that's what it would have been. Keir, there's no future for us until we've got things straight-between us, and between you and Pia. It isn't as simple as you think. She's coming here. You've got to keep clear of any other entanglements until you know just what the situation is with her. '

  Keir stared at her, and she saw with thankfulness the anger die out of his eyes, leaving them oddly vulnerable. She wanted to rush back across the room, take him in her arms and comfort him, but that would be asking for trouble. Instead, she stayed where she was, feeling more confident now that the danger was passing.

  'Pia?' he repeated blankly. 'The woman who phoned just now? But what does she have to do with it-with me, with us? What do you know about Pia?'

  He really didn't remember, Libby thought, still amazed at the complete blackout of memory Keir had suffered, and pitying him all over again. Was it any wonder that his temper sometimes got the better of him? She took courage and stepped back into the room. He had to know now-whatever Jeremy and the doctors might say.

  'Pia is an Italian lady,' she told him quietly. 'A Contessa. You met her in Rome, and you lived with her there.'

  Keir stared at her. His shock was plain on his face. He shook his head slowly, several times, and passed his hand across his forehead.

  'And Italian Contessa?' he repeated slowly. 'In Rome?

  And I lived with her? Who told you this?'

  'Jeremy. He was with you-he stayed in the palazzo, too. But his room was in another part from yours--

  and hers.'

  Keir shook his head again. 'It's like hearing you lived before, in another age,' he said. 'Libby, I remember nothing of any of this-can you believe that?'

  'Oh yes,' she said quietly. 'I can believe that.' Nobody could act that bewilderment, nobody could lose colour and look so lost, so aghast. It was quite plain that Pia meant nothing to him; that he had lost all memory of her.

  But that didn't mean that he wouldn't love her when he did remember, Libby reminded herself. And she could see that the realisation was dawning in Keir's mind, too, as his eyes searched hers.

  'What else did Jeremy say?' he demanded urgently. 'He must have told you more than that. How far our association-had progressed? Were we still-were we still together when I came to Malta? Why wasn't she with me then or had we broken? You must tell me, Libby!'

  'But I can't! Jeremy can't! He doesn't know-do you think I didn't ask him? He went back to London while you were still at the palazzo, and then came on to Malta. 'You never told him anything about Pia, and then you had your accident. He didn't know whether to contact her or not, and when he did try she had left Rome. There was nothing else he could do.'

  'Oh God,' he said. 'And now she's coming here soon, she said on the phone. And I won't even recognise her. Libby, I'm sorry-sorry about everything. ' His eyes were pools of agony as he looked at her. 'You'd have been better to have stayed away from Malta. I've-just dragged you into one hell of a mess and God knows what's going to happen next. But will you believe me that I do, as far as I can possibly tell, love you-in spite of my appalling behaviour just now.' He winced at the memory. 'I behaved like an animal. I'm sorry, Libby.'

  Libby looked at him and her defences melted. Without giving herself time to think about the wisdom of her action, she walked quickly across the room and stood beside the bed. Keir looked up at her and she laid her hands on his cheeks.

  'Don't worry about it, Keir,' she said softly, drawing his head to rest against her body. 'It's over now. Let's forget it.'

  'I'm not likely to do that,' he muttered ruefully. 'I've never treated any woman that way before-and that it had to be you ... No, I won't forget it.' He brought his hands up to hold hers against his face. 'Stay with me, Libby,' he muttered. 'I don't want to be alone tonight. Stay with me-I promise you nothing will happen.'

  Libby's hesitation was no more than a second. She drew back the rumpled coverlet and lay down beside Keir still wrapped in the terry robe. Then she drew the coverlet over them both and turned towards Keir as naturally as if they had been sharing a bed for years. He slid his arms around her and she lay quietly against his body; and within minutes they were both fast asleep.

  The sun was high in the sky when Libby stirred at last, and she realised that they had not closed the shutters the previous night. The warm shafts of light lay across the bed, turning the darkness of the burgundy silk to a deep pink. Libby lay quite still, looking round the unfamiliar room, as the memories of last night filled her mind.

  Had she done right in staying with Keir? She was still clasped in his arms and the warmth of his body, so relaxed in sleep that it felt almost boneless, gave her a feeling of rightness. Keir was right-this was how they were meant to be. And would have been, but for Pia.

  She turned her head slightly so that she could see his face. It looked younger now, more vulnerable with the defensive lines smoothed away and the reserve gone. The harshness, too, had disappeared from his chiselled lips and there was tenderness in their curve that she recognised with a pang, realising that she had forgotten he could look just like that. Since his accident, she guessed, he had found it necessary to retreat behind his own barriers, and certainly that had been the case since her own arrival.

  Libby shifted very slightly, wanting to see if she could get out of the bed without waking Keir. He stirred as she moved out of his arms, and she stiffened, afraid that he would wake; in spite of his promise, she wasn't at all sure what his reactions might be if he woke and found her in his arms, in his bed. They might be the normal reactions of any red-blooded male, and she didn't want to take the risk.

  But Keir didn't wake; instead, he moved slightly away from Libby and she held her breath as he turned over, leaving her free to slip from her side of the bed and tiptoe quietly from the room. Outside, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath of relief.

  Right. Now she needed a shower and, after that, a lot of coffee. They might have got through the night safely, in the end, but there was a whole day to face now, and all the days to come. Which must inevitably include complications-Pia being the most important. Libby found that she didn't even know when the Italian Contessa planned to arrive-had she told Keir? If she had, he hadn't mentioned it. But then, when Pia had spoken to him he hadn't realised the significance of her visit.

  Thoughtfully, Libby showered and washed her hair, blowing it dry to a soft dark cap. Feeling somewhat better, she dressed in her coral pink outfit, and then went through to the tiny kitchen to make coffee.

  Would it be better for her to leave now, go back to England? She'd already risked getting badly hurt by staying, and last night could have
been even more traumatic than it had. She sighed impatiently; what was wrong with her? She wanted Keir to make love to her, didn't she? Yes, but not like that, she answered. That could have spoiled everything, made any future for them impossible.

  But what future did they have anyway-with Pia on the doorstop?

  By the time she took her coffee out to the balcony, Libby was no nearer an answer. She decided not to try to find one any more. Just wait and see which way the wind blew. A lot depended on Pia's attitude-was she still in love with Keir, for instance? It hadn't occurred to Libby before that she might not be. And did she know about Keir's accident? Presumably not, since Jeremy hadn't been able to contact her and there was no one else, as far as Libby knew, who might have done so Keir had no family, she knew that; an only child of only children, his parents had both died some years earlier and he had been quite alone in the world. So it didn't seem likely that Pia could have found out about the accident from anyone else.

  Perhaps her arrival on Malta had already been arranged-before Keir had even left Rome. But if they had still been together, wouldn't she have contacted him before this? Wouldn't she have written, phoned?

  Libby was quite glad to have her thoughts interrupted when the door to the flat opened and Jeremy came in, breezy as usual, his shaggy beard almost bristling with energy and goodwill. He swung out to the balcony and was halfway through an exuberant greeting when he stopped dead and stared at Libby, a look of concern creasing his cheerful face. .