Dangerous Rhapsody

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Dangerous Rhapsody Page 13

by Anne Mather


  She smoothed her cheeks with the palms of her hands. Where was it all going to end?

  She heard the soft tread of footsteps across the lawn, and glanced round nervously. Damon approached her, looking broad and attractive in narrow-fitting navy blue pants and a dark red knitted shirt. He reached her side, and seated himself in the adjoining lounger. He drew on a cigar, and then said:

  ‘Where have you been the last couple of days?'

  Emma shrugged, her cheeks burning. ‘Around,’ she said.

  ‘Avoiding me,’ he muttered angrily, his eyes flashing.

  ‘No… that is… you've been looking after Annabel. I've been catching up on some mending.'

  ‘Come on, come on! What do you take me for? I can read you like a book, Emma. You've been avoiding me like the plague. What's the matter? Are you afraid I might turn on you? Or do you think that now that I know the truth I might pester you to marry me?'

  ‘Stop it!’ Emma's words were torn from her. ‘Stop it!'

  ‘Why?’ Damon studied his cigar moodily, and then stubbed it out. ‘Anyway, I have to go back to London tomorrow. Then you'll be able to relax again. Is there any message you would like me to give Johnny?'

  Emma twisted her hands together. ‘You… you haven't stayed very long.'

  ‘No.’ Damon shrugged. ‘Oh, well, if you must know I had a call from Paul yesterday. The apartment was searched a couple of nights ago, and Baines was coshed and nearly killed.'

  Emma's eyes widened. ‘Baines,’ she echoed. ‘Oh, how awful!'

  ‘Yes. Anyway, nothing was stolen, so I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies.'

  ‘Then why…?'

  He shrugged. ‘You know as much as me. We can't understand it and the police can't understand it, so I guess I'll have to go back and try and find out what gives.'

  ‘Oh, Damon!’ Emma stared at him. ‘Must you go?’ Then, as though realizing the betraying tone of her words, she continued: ‘I mean, you will be careful, won't you?'

  Damon's fingers encircled her wrist. ‘Emma,’ he muttered, ‘please, Emma, what do you want me to do?’ His face was pale under the tan and Emma felt her bones turning to water at his touch. ‘Don't do this to us!'

  ‘Damon—’ she began, shaking her head. His eyes burned her up, and she felt the strength of his emotions enveloping her. ‘You must go to London…'

  ‘I'm not talking about London,’ he muttered heavily, ‘and you know it! This is us! Our lives! And you're destroying me!'

  ‘Oh, Damon,’ she whispered brokenly.

  ‘You love me, damn you, I know you do!’ he swore violently.

  Emma's eyes were drenched with unshed tears as she looked at him. Gone was the arrogant tycoon she had grown so used to seeing, this was just Damon, on his knees beside her chair, his hands gripping her arms, his eyes tortured with longing which she at last accepted only she could assuage for some incomprehensible reason.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes', she cried, unable to deny him anything. ‘Of course I love you, I always have. Damon, I want to give you your life, not to destroy it!'

  ‘Then love me,’ he muttered harshly, ‘just love me!’ He bent his head, putting his mouth to the palms of her hands. ‘Because, God help me, I can't live without you any longer!'

  Emma could hardly believe that this was actually happening. It was like coming through a dark tunnel into sunlight, and she had to shake herself to assure herself that she wasn't dreaming. Maybe later doubts would return, but just at this moment there was no one but Damon and herself, and this wonderful thing between them.

  She slid off the chair into his arms compulsively, falling beside him on the grass, feeling the warmth of his body engulfing her.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ he groaned, his mouth caressing her eyes and ears passionately. Emma's arms were around his neck drawing him closer. It was no good, she couldn't fight him any longer, not when she wanted to give in so badly.

  It seemed aeons later when Damon finally rolled on to his back, his hand still holding her wrist so that she could not escape from him even had she wanted to. He sought about for his cigarette case and extracting a cigarette he put it between his lips and drew out his lighter. As he did so his mind inconsequently sprang back in time to San Francisco, and Tsai Pen Lung. The lighter seemed significant somehow, and a faint frown crossed his face. He ought to have discovered who the Chinese girl had been who had been murdered that last night they were in the States.

  Emma, who propped herself up on one elbow, saw the frown, and looked down at him anxiously.

  ‘Damon,’ she murmured questioningly. ‘You're not… you're not regretting it already?'

  Damon slid the lighter back into his pocket, and shook his head, a lazy smile flickering over his face. He put up his free hand and caressed the nape of her neck gently.

  ‘Now what do you think?’ he murmured huskily. ‘Emma, I love you. I adore you. I worship you! I've always loved you, even when I hated you… and make no mistake about it, I did hate you!'

  ‘And now?'

  ‘And now we're going to be married, no matter how many protestations you can raise. I'm losing the desire to spend my life in a boardroom. I want more free time, I want children… our children.'

  ‘And Annabel?’ murmured Emma, allowing him to draw her head down to his chest, where she lay contentedly, at peace for the first time in years.

  Damon blew the smoke from his cigarette lazily into the air.

  ‘Annabel is fond of you already. She's proved that. I don't think she'll find the transition from friend to stepmother so hard to bear. Besides, you'll be more of a mother to her than Elizabeth ever was.'

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Emma sat up. ‘That reminds me, I found something out today. Elizabeth was taking Annabel away from you when the accident occurred.'

  Damon nodded. ‘I guessed that.'

  Emma sighed. ‘Well, Annabel doesn't know. She is harbouring some terrible self-recriminations concerning that day.’ She looked down at him seriously. ‘I really think it might have something to do with her blindness.'

  Damon's eyes widened a moment, and then he sighed. ‘But why? I mean… she knows I wouldn't blame her for anything that happened that day.'

  ‘I know. But don't you see, it's you she's concerned about, not herself.’ Emma spread wide her hands. ‘Darling, she blames herself for allowing Elizabeth to talk her into going. She feels guilty about leaving you!'

  Damon carried one of her hands to his lips thoughtfully. ‘And you really think this might cause her condition?'

  ‘Well, it might have something to do with it. If we could make her believe you don't care what she did, and you still love her just as much as ever in spite of it… well, she might be on the road to recovery. Then the specialists might be able to shake her muscles out of their inertia.'

  Damon sat up too now. ‘If only they could!’ he muttered fervently.

  Emma suddenly slid her arms round him, hugging him close, still hardly able to believe they were at peace with one another.

  ‘Emma,’ he groaned, a little half-heartedly, ‘don't make me want you any more than I do at this moment!'

  ‘Why?’ she murmured provocatively, and with a muffled exclamation Damon satisfactorily silenced any further provocation.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THAT evening Emma dressed with care for dinner. It was to be Damon's last evening. He was flying back to London the next morning, and while he was there he was going to get a special licence. Then later in the week he would return and they would all go to London for the wedding. Emma only had Johnny to consider and Damon wanted to have the ceremony over before she had time to change her mind again.

  But this time Emma had no regrets. Damon needed her, he had proved that ultimately, and she could no longer face life without him. If there were any clouds at all on her horizon they were all connected with Johnny, but Damon could satisfactorily handle him. Johnny had always been a little in awe of the older man, and might respond to a touch of discipline bet
ter than she could imagine.

  Annabel had taken their news very calmly. It was strange the perception the child had, for when they told her, she said:

  ‘I always thought Daddy had a soft spot for you really, Emma. I mean, he never welcomed your company when I asked for you to come with us, but when you came he always wanted to be with you. I could tell.'

  Emma felt her cheeks burn. ‘And you don't mind?'

  ‘Of course not. At least… I don't think I shall. But if – if you have other children, will I still be the eldest?'

  Emma hugged her to her. ‘Annabel, you're our daughter now, and if we do have any other children then they'll look to you for guidance because you're the eldest, as you say.’ She ruffled her hair. ‘You said you would like brothers and sisters.'

  A shadow crossed Annabel's face. ‘But I shan't be able to see them, shall I?'

  Emma glanced at Damon. ‘Maybe you will,’ she said slowly. ‘Annabel, I've told your father about what you told me this morning.'

  Annabel's sightless eyes sought Damon's. ‘Daddy, is that true? Has Emma told you about me leaving you?'

  ‘I already knew, poppet,’ replied Damon, taking over from Emma, and lifting Annabel on to his lap.

  Annabel pressed her head against his shoulder. ‘You know? Oh, Daddy, I was going to do a terrible thing!'

  ‘Don't be silly,’ said Damon softly, ‘You were only four.'

  ‘I wanted a pony, you see,’ murmured Annabel, her eyes a little moist now. ‘Elizabeth said she would get me two!’ Her voice broke.

  ‘Elizabeth was a strange, unhappy woman,’ said Damon quietly, and Annabel hid her face against his neck. Emma left them alone. The groundwork had been done. Now only time might cure her.

  So this evening she dressed in a slim-fitting shift of crimson Crimplene, with a low gathered neckline, no sleeves and a straight tunic-like appearance. It suited her to perfection with her dark hair, the straight lines of the dress drawing attention to the curve of her breast, and the long smooth lines of her legs.

  Damon was waiting for her in the lounge, seated at the bar, toying with a drink. He rose at her entrance and came towards her. His eyes were warm and caressing, and she marvelled that she had the power to change him so completely, taking the strained look from his face, and making him seem years younger.

  He bent to kiss her, and she said: ‘I wish you didn't have to go back tomorrow,’ in a soft voice.

  ‘So do I,’ he replied, releasing her and turning back to the bar. ‘What will you drink? A sherry? A cocktail?'

  ‘Sherry, please.’ Emma followed him to the bar. ‘Is Louisa back?'

  ‘Yes. Tansy tells me she's changing for dinner.’ He smiled. ‘It's as well she is here. I doubt whether I could leave you alone otherwise.'

  Emma flushed prettily, and then turned as Louisa entered the room.

  Louisa was dressed in a plain white dress, and looked cool and immaculate.

  ‘Did you have a good day?’ asked Emma, seating herself at the bar.

  Louisa joined her. ‘Very good, thank you.’ She smiled. ‘I got some lovely material to make myself a suit. I'll show you later.'

  Emma studied the drink Damon had slid in front of her, wondering whether Damon intended telling anyone of their changed circumstances. She did not have to wait long.

  ‘I think I should tell you, Emma and I are engaged,’ said Damon, offering them both cigarettes.

  Louisa's astonishment was apparent. ‘This is very sudden!'

  ‘Not really,’ said Damon smoothly. ‘I first met Emma eight years ago when she worked for the Thorne company in the London office. But… ’ he hesitated, ‘but it wasn't until today she agreed to marry me.'

  ‘I see!’ Louisa's eyebrows quirked a little. ‘Well, what can I say? I hope you'll both be very happy.'

  ‘I'll drink to that,’ said Damon, smiling at Emma, and they raised their glasses.

  When dinner was over Louisa tactfully withdrew, leaving Emma and Damon alone together. Damon switched on the stereo radiogram, and soon the cool strains of dance music flooded the room. He switched out the main lights and then seated himself beside her on the low couch where she was dreamily relaxing with a liqueur.

  ‘This is nice,’ he murmured, his smile slightly mocking. ‘Now, tell me what you've been doing these last seven years. I want to know everything about your life since we were separated.'

  Emma shrugged. ‘There's very little to tell, actually. After I left Thornes, I went to Saint Benedict's as a student nurse. Eventually I became a staff nurse, and as you know, I was hoping to become a Sister in due time.'

  He lit a couple of cigarettes and handed her one. ‘Do you miss your work? Do you regret giving it up now?'

  Emma snuggled against him. ‘No, not really. Oh, to begin with when I first came here I missed the companionship of having cases to talk over, but then somehow it didn't seem to matter any more, and now… London seems a long way away.’ She smiled. ‘But I'd not mind being there if you were with me.'

  Damon's eyes were warm and caressing as he looked at her. ‘Why on earth did you make us waste so much time?’ he murmured, his mouth straying gently over her bare arm.

  Emma shivered ecstatically. ‘Oh, Damon, I'm afraid this won't last. I love you so much. I couldn't bear it if anything happened now.'

  ‘Nothing's going to happen,’ he insisted firmly, ‘in a week's time we'll be married, and I'll never let you go.'

  His mouth found hers passionately. ‘I want to teach you what love is; what lovemaking can be like. You have no idea of the intricacies of marriage as yet.'

  He smiled., amused when he saw the tell-tale flush sweeping up her tanned cheeks. ‘Don't be shy with me,’ he said., one hard brown hand smoothing the soft skin of her inner arms. ‘I won't hurt you, you know that.'

  ‘I know,’ she answered, thinking how very attractive he really was. There was something so essentially male about him, and the dark suits with their narrow trousers which he wore drew attention to the breadth of his shoulders, and the muscular length of his legs.

  Suddenly there was a diversion, as footsteps pattered across the hallway and into the lounge. Emma glanced round, and saw Annabel. Immediately she slid out of Damon's arms and crossed the room to the child.

  ‘Annabel!’ she exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?'

  Annabel looked a little nervous. ‘I… I wanted to come down and see you two,’ she said. ‘Something woke me, and I was afraid, and then I remembered that you were going to be my new mummy, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I came down to see you.'

  Emma glanced laughingly at Damon. ‘Of course we don't mind,’ she said soothingly ‘But what woke you? Was it Louisa?'

  ‘No.’ Annabel shook her head. ‘It wasn't Louisa. At least, I'm quite sure it wasn't. I know her way of walking, I can usually tell if it's her.’ She hesitated. ‘I'm not sure what it was. When I sat up it was quiet, but I thought there was someone there.’ She clasped Emma's hand. ‘I was afraid, truly. I'm not just saying it.'

  Emma drew her over to the couch, and Annabel jumped on to Damon's knee. ‘I heard you two talking,' she said, ‘so I knew you were here.’ She hugged Damon tightly. ‘Daddy, you do love Emma, don't you? I mean, you won't find you've changed your mind after… after the wedding?'

  Emma looked at Damon over Annabel's head, and saw the look in his eyes. It told her more clearly than words that there would be no mistakes this time.

  Damon stroked Annabel's hair. ‘I love Emma,’ he said at last. ‘And I won't change my mind. I've loved her for a very long time, so it's very unlikely that I shall ever change now, don't you think?'

  ‘And does Emma love you like that?'

  ‘Of course I do,’ said Emma swiftly. ‘Don't worry, darling. You're going to have a proper home and family, just like any other little girl, and Daddy and I will always be there when you need us.'

  ‘Oh, I hope so,’ said Annabel fervently, and Emma thought how wonderful it would be to make up
to the child for all the misery she had experienced, first with her mother, and then with the problems of her condition.

  They talked for some time, Annabel opening out completely with her father, telling him about how she was getting on with Louisa, and about Rosa being soon to be a mother again. Emma poured her some lemonade, and she obviously enjoyed being the centre of attraction.

  Then, as it grew later, Damon said firmly: ‘Time for bed, young lady. It's almost ten o'clock.'

  Annabel pulled a face, and Emma thought how unlikely it would be that anyone would actually know she was blind when she was so gay and animated as she was at the moment. Oh, please, she thought intensely, let her see again.

  ‘Will you take me?’ Annabel turned to Emma. ‘Please.'

  Emma lifted her on to the rug. ‘Of course. Say good night to your father, and let's go.'

  Annabel kissed Damon lovingly, then danced gaily out of the room, followed less exuberantly by Emma.

  Emma did not bother to switch on all the lights. The moon illuminated the stairs ahead, and besides, Annabel required no lights to see by.

  Surefootedly, Annabel bounced her way upstairs, turning now and again to wait for Emma to catch up with her. She was as carefree as Emma had ever seen her, and that was why Emma did not protest, despite the fact that it seemed unlikely that Annabel would find it easy to sleep after so much excitement.

  Her room was in darkness. Annabel had gone ahead, and Emma, a few yards behind, could not see her as she reached the bedroom door. She lifted a hand to switch on the light here, and without warning a hand was pressed against her mouth, successfully preventing the cry of pure astonishment she would have uttered. She was gripped from behind, and the strength of the man's arm and elbow bruised her shoulder and side. She struggled, tugging at his hand with hers futilely, but when the light was flicked on, she saw he held a gun in his other hand, and it was pointing straight at Annabel. The child was crouched beside the bed, at once aware and yet unaware of the danger.

 

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