Red Rose For Love

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘You do?'

  Eve swallowed hard. 'Yes.'

  He sat back. 'Feel free,' he invited.

  Her lashes fluttered up, confusion in her violet-blue eyes. 'You—you want me to massage your neck for you?'

  'If you wouldn't mind,' he nodded.

  She didn't mind, but the thought of touching him unnerved her somewhat. What if she should betray her feelings towards him?

  'If you would rather not,' he sensed her hesitation, once again picking up his pen. 'I should get on with this anyway.'

  'No! I mean—I'l1 massage your neck for you.' She stood up, moving to the back of his chair. The warm vibrancy of him reached out to her, and she knew she had let herself in for a subtle form of torture.

  'Are you all right back there?' Bart queried as she made no move to touch him.

  'If you could just lean back...'

  He did so, and Eve's fingers fluttered down on to his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He felt good to touch, firm and smooth, and her fingers began to love their set task.

  'You're good,' Bart murmured pleasurably.

  'I—Thank you.'

  She swallowed hard as he leant his head back against her breasts, his hair very blond against the black shirt she wore. Her fingers ached to caress the silky hair visible in the deep vee of his shirt, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as she resisted the impulse.

  'Hey,' Bart chided softly, his eyes closed, "that hurts!'

  'Sorry.' Her hands were instantly removed, but she couldn't move away, Bait's head was heavy against her breasts. He was moving sensuously against her now, and Eve was almost afraid to breathe in case he stopped the movement.

  'I could quite easily go to sleep against you,' he murmured.

  'It wouldn't be very comfortable for me,' she said breathlessly.

  He glanced up at her flushed features. 'No, I suppose not.' He sat forward, standing up to take her hand and lead her over to the sofa, gently pushing her down in one corner, sitting down beside her to rest his head in exactly the same position as before. 'Mm,' he sat up again after a few minutes. 'Not comfortable enough.'

  'What are you doing?' she demanded as he slipped her shoes off and put her feet up on the sofa.

  'Move over,' he instructed, switching off the main light, just leaving the desk-lamp on. Eve gazed up at him with apprehensive eyes. 'Move over...?'

  'Yes.' He lay down beside her, his lean length moulded to her slender curves on the narrow width of the sofa, his arm about her waist. 'Comfortable?' he snuggled into the warm softness of her breasts. Strangely enough, she was. But she couldn't stay here, it was too dangerous. But oh, how nice it was to lie here with Bart, not to be arguing with him but for once to be in complete harmony.

  'I would have suggested we go up to bed,' he said sleepily, 'but I didn't think you would agree to that.'

  She wasn't so sure about that. Right now she was feeling very vulnerable towards him, and this closeness was reducing her resistance to nil. But Bart didn't seem to have seduction in mind, for his arm about her waist soon relaxed, his even breathing telling her he was asleep.

  ‘Eve was at last able to relax herself, her hand moving up to tentatively touch his silky fair hair. It felt just as good as she had thought it would, soft and springy to the touch, his face losing all trace of harshness in deep. With the back of the sofa on one side of her and Bart on the other, she felt coccooned in warmth, and soon drifted off to sleep herself. Some time during the night then-positions shifted, Bart lying on his back, Eve's head resting on his chest as she curled up to him like a contented kitten.

  She awoke with a start, looking down into caressing green eyes. 'Bart...!' she said achingly.

  'I thought you would never wake up,' he groaned, rolling over so that she was beneath him, his thighs trapping her.

  'You sleep very quietly.'

  'You mean I don't snore?' She looked up at him teasingly.

  'I mean you don't move about much. Perhaps that was as well in the circumstances,' he murmured, his gaze intent on her face. 'God, you look such a child,' he scowled.

  Her hand moved up to touch the hardness of his cheek. 'I'm a woman, Bart.'

  'Are you?'

  'Oh yes,' she breathed softly.

  'I hope so, because I'm going to kiss you anyway.' His head lowered and his firm, warm lips claimed hers, tilting her head back, making it difficult for her to breathe.

  But she didn't care, her arms up around his back as she tried to be even closer to him. One of his hands moved to caress her thigh, moving slowly upward to cup her breast, and when she made no murmur of protest at this intimacy his thumb began to move rhythmically across the taut nipple that could easily be detected through the thin material of her shirt, the lacy bra no barrier at all.

  She was unprepared for the wild surge of excitement that coursed through her body. No man, not even Carl, had given her pleasure like this. Pleasing her had been the last thing on Carl's mind that evening at the apartment, and when he made love to her all she had felt was pain as he allowed no respite for her innocence. She hadn't even noticed the unfastening of her shirt, but she noticed Bart's probing fingers at the edge of her bra, the lacy material a flimsy barrier that he quickly dispensed with, lowering his head to her bared breasts, claiming one nipple between caressing lips and tongue.

  After that she was lost, to the hard demand of his body, to her own answering response to that demand. Soon their bared torsos were fused together, their lips moving in a fevered kiss that seemed to have no end. Finally Bart moved back with a gasp. 'You realise what's going to happen?' he groaned.

  'Yes.' Her fingers ran tantalisingly down his rigid jaw.

  He turned to kiss her palm, his eyes a deep glowing green. 'Do you mind?'

  'No.' Her voice was husky.

  'Then we aren't staying here.' He untangled his body from hers, taking her hand pulling her to her feet.

  'Where are we going?9 she demanded anxiously.

  'To my room—or yours.' He looked down at her with passion-filled eyes. 'I really don't care which.'

  'But—I—Maisie!' she reminded desperately.

  Bart grinned down at her. 'Fast asleep hours ago. She looked in on us---'

  'She did?'

  'Mm,' he nodded. 'But she left again in a hurry.'

  'Oh!' Her face was scarlet with embarrassment.

  'Don't worry,' he placed a lingering kiss on her parted lips. 'Maisie may be outspoken, but she won't mention seeing us together.'

  'But she'll know,' she cried as he dragged her up the stairs with him.

  She instantly felt him tense. 'Do you mind?' he asked tersely.

  'I—No,' she decided firmly. "No, I don't mind.'

  'Good girl.' He kissed her again. 'We'll go to my room, I have a shower.'

  'Shower...?'

  'Yes.' Bart grinned down at her. 'We're going to shower together, my little Eve. I'm going to wash you all over, and then you're going to wash me.'

  She gulped. 'I am?'

  'You are,' he chuckled at her flushed face. 'I love the way you blush. You're such a baby,' he teased. She burrowed into his side as they entered his bedroom. 'You can say that—even after—-'

  'Forget him, Eve,' he rasped. 'Tonight think only of me. The past isn't going to matter between you and me.'

  'We're just going to think of now?'

  'Yes. And----'

  'Oh, Bart,' she kissed him, thrilling with pleasure as she felt the desire surge through his body. 'I only want to think of now too.' She daren't think of tomorrow, knew that to think of losing Bart was something she couldn't think of yet.

  Why should she mink of the time she would be without him? She had him here and now, tonight. And maybe all the other nights until she had to leave here.

  It wouldn't be enough, she knew that already, knew she would never have enough of Bart. But it was all she was going to be allowed, and strangely, with Bart,. she could accept this temporary relationship. Just par
t of him was better than nothing.

  He laid her down on the bed, making no effort to hide the naked desire in his eyes. Eve looked hastily away, seeing the huge double bed below her for the first time.

  'You sleep—here?' It was the hugest bed she had ever seen, at least six feet across, and about eight feet long. She would be lost in a bed like this on her own. But she wasn't going to be alone, Bart would be with her, and not just for an hour or even two, but for whole night, and as many other nights as she wanted to be with him. Bart grinned. 'Yes, I sleep here. It gets a little lonely at times. But when I bought the bed I—well, I had plans.'

  Pain darkened her eyes to navy blue. 'You—you were going to get married?'

  'Don't look so surprised.' He sat down on the bed with her, gently touching her cheek. 'Don't you think I should be married?' he teased.

  'I suppose so. But----'

  'No more doubt, Eve,' he was suddenly serious, cupping each side of her face with his hands. 'Once you've shared this bed with me our relationship will be sealed. There'll be no turning back,' he warned.

  'No ...' She looked doubtful now, his talk of marrying some other woman reminding her that although she might love him, to him she would just be another woman to share his bed.

  He sensed her uncertainty. 'Don't you want to?' he said gently.

  She bit her lip. 'I thought I did, but-----‘

  Bart stood up, pacing the room with forceful strides. 'You have to be sure,' he told her in a controlled voice. 'I'll be honest with you, Eve, I've wanted you from the moment I first saw you. But I can't make love to you until I know it's what you want too, not when I know how you suffered in tile past. I never want yon to turn around and say I seduced you into this. If we make love it has to be something we both want. You understand?' His piercing eyes seemed to look into her very soul.

  'I—I understand.'

  'And?' He waited, tensed.

  'And I'm not sure.' She looked up at him with appealing eyes. 'I was, but I'm not now. I wish I could make you understand---'

  'I do.' He pulled her to her feet. 'I can wait, Eve, until you're ready to come to me. Just knowing you're alive is enough for me.' His face darkened. 'I don't think I'll ever forget the horror of thinking you'd died in the mud and the rain,' he rasped, pulling her close to him.

  Oh, what was the matter with her! This man had given her more during the few weeks she had known him than any other person she had ever known. She had him to thank for being alive, but more important than that, she had him to thank for giving her a purpose for being alive. She had been playing at life for the past five years, had fallen in with Derek's plans for her simply because she had nothing more important to do, had no plans or desires of her own.

  But loving Bart had changed all that. Just being with him gave her a feeling of exhilaration, a thrill like nothing else had ever done. Why on earth was she hesitating about being made even more happy, about becoming his lover?

  'I don't know why I hesitated, Ban,' she groaned, pressing herself against him. 'I'm just so grateful— Bart?' she questioned as he pushed her roughly away from him. 'What is it?'

  His face was an angry mask, the lover of a few minutes ago completely erased. 'I've had women make love with me for a lot of reasons, often mercenary ones,’ he said harshly. 'But never, ever out of gratitude?

  'Oh no, you don't understand!' Eve put out her hands appealingly, 'I didn't mean that sort of gratitude. Bart, I—'

  He rebuffed the touch of her hands, his mouth twisted in disgust. 'I would have done the same for anyone in trouble. Anyone, you understand!' he rasped. 'Is this the way it is with you, Eve? My God, you don't let a man take your body, take you, just because you're grateful to him!'

  'Let me explain----'

  'I've already heard enough. You'd better cover yourself,' he scorned.

  Her cheeks blushed scarlet as she realised she had carried out the whole of the conversation with bared breasts, and Bart's mockery increased as she hastily covered her nakedness.

  'Now take your gratitude and get out of my bedroom,' he ordered harshly, his expression bleak.

  'Bart, please----'

  'Get out, Eve, before I throw you out!'

  She knew he meant it, knew he wasn't in the mood to listen to her. 'I—I'll see you in the morning?'

  His mouth twisted. 'You may do.' He pointedly held the bedroom door open for her. She crossed the short distance to her own room, all the while conscious of his angry eyes boring into her back. She turned at the door to make one last appeal.

  'Bart-----'

  'Goodnight, Eve!' He slammed his door.

  If only he would let her tell him she was grateful for being given the chance to love him, to finally know what loving really was.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOME time towards morning she heard a bell ringing. In her half-dreaming state she dismissed it as a fire-engine or police car, her dreams suddenly taking on a frightening dimension, Bart seeming to be floating in and out of her subconscious, always angry, always accusing.

  She woke with a start, the denial screaming on her lips. Bart! She had to see Bart, explain that she loved him, that being alive and able to love him was all she would ever want from him.

  A light knock sounded on the door, and she sat up eagerly, the smile dimming a little as she saw it was Maisie.

  'I didn't mean to wake you,' Maisie said regretfully. 'But it's after eleven, and there's a Mr James on the telephone for you. I asked him to call back later, but he said he wasn't able to.'

  Eve gathered her scattered wits together. It was after eleven! Goodness, she had almost slept the day away. And Derek was waiting to talk to her on the telephone. Tell him I'll be right there,' she scrambled out of bed, hurrying to the wardrobe to take out white cotton trousers and a blue blouse.

  'Now just calm down,' Maisie tutted. 'Take things easy. I'm sure this Mr James can wait a minute or two while you dress yourself.'

  Eve slowed down her movements as Maisie left to tell Derek she wouldn't be long. .What could Derek be telephoning her about?

  He was bubbling over with excitement when she finally got downstairs to take his call. "You could have been a bit quicker,' he chided impatiently.

  'Sorry,' she mumbled, still trying to wake up.

  'I just wanted to let you know I have to take a rain-check on my visits to you. I have to get a flight out tomorrow. Tomorrow, Eve! Can you believe it?'

  As she didn't know what he was talking about, no. 'What flight?' she asked dazedly.

  'The one to New York. Halstead telephoned me this morning. He actually telephoned me himself, Eve. And he wants me out there tomorrow,' he told her excitedly.

  'Derek-----'

  'You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?' He said impatiently.

  'No,' she admitted softly.

  'God, you sound awful! What have you been doing?'

  'Sleeping!' she snapped. 'I am here to rest, you know.'

  'Okay,' he sighed. 'But didn't Bart tell you about this job in New York?'

  'Bart?' Eve frowned. 'What does he have to do with all this?'

  'Everything!' The excitement returned to Derek's voice. 'He made all the initial arrangements.'

  'For what?'

  'For me to work in a recording studio in New York!'

  'He—he did?' Her hand clutched the telephone.

  'Isn't it great?' Derek enthused. 'It's something I've always been interested in. Of course I've got to start at the bottom and learn everything, but it's still going to be exciting. And Bart's brother-in-law------'

  'His brother-in-law?' she repeated dazedly, feeling as if everything were moving too fast for her.

  'For goodness' sake wake up, Eve. You don't seem to be taking this in at all.'

  'Then explain what you're tatting about!' She lost her temper with him.

  'Bart's brother-in-law is David Halstead. You have heard of him, haven't you?'

  'Of course,' Eve confirmed dryly at his derisive
tone. Everyone had heard of the famous American record producer.

  'Bart made some enquiries about my going out there to work for him. And this morning he called me, David Halstead himself, to invite me over.'

  That Derek was suffering from a case of hero-worship was obvious. 'It's all a bit sudden, isn't it, Derek?'

  'Of course it isn't,' he snapped. 'It's been in the planning for weeks.'

  'How many weeks?' she asked suspiciously.

  'A couple. Ever since I lost your contract to Bart, actually. I was at a bit of a loose end——'

  'And so Bart decided to tie it,' she finished tauntingly. 'My, how he loves to organise other people's lives for them!'

  'Eve-----'

  'I'm sorry, Derek,' she sighed, putting a hand up to her wayward hair. 'I never wake up in a good mood, you know that. I really hope you get on well in America,' she added sincerely.

  'Thanks. I'll have to go now, there's so much to do. But I'll call you from New York.'

  'Fine,' she acknowledged. 'Say goodbye to Judy for me.'

  'Bye, Eve.' He hung up.

  She slowly replaced her own receiver, suddenly feeling very lost and alone. She had no one now that Derek and Judy were gone, her aunt and uncle were not expected back for some weeks yet. But she had Bart! Or at least, she would have, if she could just make him understand that her gratitude wasn't for saving her life but for giving her a reason to live it.

  'All right?' Maisie enquired as Eve wandered into the kitchen.

  She looked up, startled, having been deep in thought. 'I—Oh yes. Just a friend letting me know he was leaving the country.'

  Maisie nodded. 'As long as it didn't upset you.'

  Eve blushed as she remembered Bart saying Maisie had seen them together in the study last night. 'No, he—he didn't upset me,' she gave a nervy smile. 'What are you making?' she asked interestedly, hoping Maisie wouldn't guess the reason for her blushes. - 'Cheese souffle for your lunch,' the other woman said with satisfaction. 'It's Adam's favourite. He can have some when he gets back.'

  If Adam was out then that meant Bait was out too. She hadn't expected him to be at work this morning. 'Will Adam be back soon?' she asked casually, her real interest in Bait's return.