Paradise Found

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by Dorothy Vernon


  His earthy male sexuality attacked her senses. Though he hadn’t put a hand on her, it was as if his fingers had curved around her throat. Breathing was difficult, and the resultant lack of oxygen in her lungs made her head swim. She knew that she had to get away from him for a moment to regain control of herself. In spite of the way her body was reacting to his nearness, she wasn’t an empty-headed teenager anymore. She had been affected by his sensual magnetism once, had not put up a struggle against it, and in consequence had suffered the heartache of rejection. She had played this scene once and knew the score. To let him get close to her again was to invite a second dose of the pain.

  But as her eyes came up again the words of excuse that she had been about to speak were half-strangled by the disturbing scrutiny of his gaze, which was centered on her lips. She had to fight him. Disregarding the aching tightness in her throat, she said, ‘I feel grimy. Do you mind if I freshen up before I start on the meal?’

  ‘Take your time. I intended to act as chef anyway.’

  In her bedroom the world became a less rocky place, although she did have one bad moment when she saw her wedding gown, all ready to slip on, hanging on the outside of her wardrobe. She thought about bundling it back into its box but decided, that perhaps she needed it there as a reminder. Not the most strong-willed attitude, but still, she had never pretended to be heavy on resolution where Matt was concerned. Hoping that he would be different, that this time he wouldn’t kiss and run, was on a par with wishing on the wind.

  What foolish segment of her heart had been harboring that thought? The wind was changeable; Matt was not. And something else: If she were stupid enough to let there be a ‘this time’, it wouldn’t stop at kissing. He had walked away from a girl and come back to a woman.

  She stripped off her clothes, deciding to go whole hog and take a shower, hoping it would cool her senses. The tiny bathroom communicated with her bedroom, and she didn’t bother to lock the door. Matt was too subtle to burst in on her. The cold water felt good on her skin. She emerged, shivering slightly, and gave herself a brisk rubdown, wrapping another towel round her, sarong-style, while she decided what to wear. The choice was limited because so many of her clothes had already gone to the new apartment and she didn’t feel like dipping into her honeymoon suitcase. She could still put her hands on two favorite outfits, both influenced by Eastern culture. A Westernized version of the Japanese kimono and a silk pants and blousesuit in an Oriental peacock print. She selected the latter, thinking that she might be a little too accessible in the kimono, which was held in place only by a wide scarlet sash. Sometimes she cinched in the waist of the pants set with a wide belt, but this time she left the blouse to swing loose, letting its volume conceal her figure. In keeping with the Oriental look, she twisted the heavy length of her hair at the nape of her neck, securing it with pins in a figure-eight knot.

  The aroma of steaks sizzling under the broiler met her nose when she went to join him. ‘M’mmm, that smells good.’

  He took a couple of paces forward. ‘So do you. You don’t look bad, either.’

  Sidestepping that remark, and him, she worked her way round to the other side of the table. ‘I see you found everything all right,’ indicating the place mats and cutlery.

  ‘Glasses defeated me.’

  ‘Ah, problem there. You won’t find any. I’m afraid every glass I possess is packed and at the new apartment.

  ‘It’ll have to be mugs then,’ he said, unhooking two and then deftly twisting the champagne bottle to remove the cork.

  ‘It’s sacrilege to drink champagne out of mugs,’ she protested, yet she raised hers to her lips the moment it was filled.

  ‘Verdict?’ he inquired.

  ‘It’s gorgeous.’ She had envisioned drinking champagne that night, but not with Matt.

  ‘I wouldn’t drink too much until you’ve got some food in you,’ he cautioned. ‘Your head will start floating away.’

  She met the teasing laughter in his eyes and wondered if he knew that it already was—and taking her ability to think rationally with it. All the good that had been achieved by the short absence from his side was undermined the moment she came within his sphere again.

  She occupied herself with tossing the salad while he transferred the steaks from the broiler pan to the plates.

  He waited for her to sit down in old-fashioned deference to her femininity. He had always had a way of making a woman feel special. She tried to subdue that lifted-to-the-stars feeling. The higher you went, the greater the fall. Regardless, it was good to sit across a table from him again.

  She told herself that she felt better when she’d eaten, more able to cope. They washed the dishes companionably, side by side, while waiting for the coffee to percolate. He’d drink his coffee and go. In a little while the ordeal would be over. She was reluctant to say that it had been easier than she had anticipated, but it was true. He hadn’t offered to touch her, but she wouldn’t feel out of the woods until he was on the other side of her door.

  ‘Where would you have been now, Zoe, but for events?’

  ‘Portugal,’ she said.

  ‘Poor Tony. I don’t consider a hospital bed a fair swap for a matrimonial bed. And poor little you, contemplating spending the night alone, on what should have been your wedding night, the first night, as it used to be delicately called. Rather an obsolete expression in these days of anticipating marriage. Perhaps you did the same and so your disappointment won’t be as keen.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing otherwise. ‘Anticipating marriage—that too has a deliciously, old-fashioned flavor to it in these days of sexual freedom. It’s late,’ she said, springing to her feet. ‘I think you should go.’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ he said, setting down his coffee cup and lazily standing up.

  He stood facing her but made no offer to go, just looked into her eyes for a long tormenting moment. She knew he was going to kiss her, she wasn’t going to be let off without that; and to her horror it came to her that she didn’t want to be.

  ‘I never before realized how very sensuous a woman could look entirely covered up to the neck. It’s much more seductive than a neckline slashed to the waist, the kind that leaves little to the man’s own imagination.’

  ‘Cut the talk, Matt.’

  ‘You prefer the action?’

  ‘No, that’s not what I meant. Stop it, Matt.’

  ‘Stop what? I’m not doing anything.’

  ‘You do more when you’re not doing anything than any man I know.’

  ‘Don’t you like the way I look at you?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ Neither did she like the husky pitch of his voice; it grated on her senses. Nor the way she wondered if his sons would inherit his dark good looks and proud way of standing with his shoulders back, hips tilted slightly forward and powerful legs splayed at an angle, wondered with a tiny ache low in her stomach that increased as she remembered that the obligatory wife to provide legitimate sons was not in Matt’s plan.

  She pressed her lips tightly together, catching the fullness of her lower lip in her teeth. She did it to ease the dryness; she saw his eyes narrow on the movement but only wondered if he found it provocative when she saw him lift his arm and drag the back of his hand across his own mouth.

  Instead of replacing the hand by his side, he let his fingers curl round her neck to draw her gently forward, and although the intolerable wait was over, the teasing had only just begun.

  His parted lips moved over her forehead, glancing down her temple and following the outer curve of her cheek. Her lips moved compulsively to meet that kiss, but he defeated them by dropping his own lower to brush across her throat in a series of butterfly caresses that left her insensible. She twisted uselessly to nullify the intensity of what she was feeling. When she felt that she couldn’t take it a moment longer the teasing stopped and his mouth clamped over hers. It was like a promise fulfilled, and she reveled in i
t. Her whole being was centered on the joy of that kiss, and his strategy went unnoticed. Her mind was closed to everything but the sensation of his lips on hers, and so she was barely aware of the hand creeping under the looseness of her blouse to close over her breast. It seemed to swell at his touch, its thrusting tip delighting at the abrasion of his thumb. She knew she should push him away, but she couldn’t. Nothing else mattered but this ecstasy. His free hand roved over her back, tingling her shoulders and her spine, exciting her hips and bringing her so deliriously close to him that her physical need was almost too acute to bear.

  ‘You don’t have to be alone tonight. You don’t have to be deprived.’

  His voice was barely audible through the mists of her desire. Mists of insanity, more like it. She slumped in his arms, all that intensity of feeling shriveling into a tight knot in her throat.

  ‘No, Matt.’ Could that cold voice possibly belong to her?

  ‘No?’

  ‘There’s something you seem to have forgotten. I’m wearing another man’s ring.’

  ‘I’m not the only one who forgot that.’

  ‘That’s true, and I’m ashamed.’

  ‘You don’t have to be, Zoe.’

  ‘Don’t have to be?’ she gasped incredulously. ‘Don’t try to explain that, Matt. I don’t think you could.’

  ‘If that’s so, it’s not for the reasons you think.’

  She didn’t believe that. Nothing could justify her behavior. He knew she was right; he had just said that to save face. She was furious with him for his part in what had happened and even more furious with herself for letting herself feel that way about him, for enjoying his caresses. Some of that fury turned back on him. Her driving need was to punish.

  She laughed. Even to her own ears it sounded unnaturally high and brittle. ‘I’m so sorry, Matt.’

  ‘Sorry?’ he queried, frowning.

  ‘Tony being in hospital is only part of my guilt. I feel ashamed for using you. You hit the nail on the head a bit too accurately. Tonight should have been my wedding night, and I felt angry at having to spend it on my own. A woman dreams about that, even if it isn’t a new experience.’ She couldn’t resist that. Then, on a softer, extra hurtful note, ‘Perhaps because it isn’t a new experience. So you see, when you started messing around, I thought, why should I be deprived? But it wouldn’t be fair to use you because the man I really want isn’t available.’

  He didn’t say a word. He looked as if he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. His anger was like a black volcano ready to erupt. He turned on his heel and left.

  It didn’t occur to her to wonder how he would get home, but the knowledge came to her anyway when she heard the urgent revving up of an engine. Of course, he’d taken her car.

  It was a long time before she managed to drag herself into her bedroom and, ultimately, to bed. The pressures left from the day were unbelievable. Her wedding hadn’t taken place. Her bridegroom lay in a hospital. And what should have been her wedding night had almost been consummated by another man.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Matt arrived in her car the next day in time for the afternoon visit to the hospital. The pattern of the previous day was followed. Matt, who drove, parked her car where she had parked it the day before. Nerissa was waiting in the house for them, and Matt drove them to the hospital in his car. If Nerissa noticed the below-zero coldness between Zoe and Matt, she tactfully refrained from making any comment.

  Tony was obviously still in considerable pain, despite the influence of painkillers, and Zoe, who was not a very demonstrative type of person in public, surprised even herself by holding his hand in an extra loving way and kissing him with the kind of warmth better saved for private moments. She couldn’t make up her mind who disapproved most, Matt or Nerissa.

  On the way back they talked between themselves, leaving her feeling curiously isolated. When they arrived at the house Nerissa said, ‘Are you coming in, Zoe?’ Zoe was on the point of saying no. Perhaps that was obvious from her expression, because then Nerissa said, ‘I think you should. Practicalities will have to be discussed. In any case, there seems little point in your making the journey to your apartment and then coming back here in time to make the evening visit to the hospital. You may as well stay and have tea with us.’

  It seemed a rather grudging invitation, but Zoe concurred. Though how practicalities could be discussed without Tony there was a puzzle to her.

  Zoe half expected Matt to decline afternoon tea, but he accepted a cup and she was conscious of his eyes on her when he sat down at the other end of the sofa.

  Nerissa settled into her favorite chair on the other side of the long occasional table. ‘Now, about the arrangements,’ she said, opening the discussion.

  ‘If it’s about when a new wedding date can be set, I feel that it’s something which Tony and I should decide on our own,’ Zoe said firmly.

  ‘A new wedding date?’ Nerissa queried.

  ‘We can be married just as soon as Tony is discharged from the hospital, I don’t see the point in waiting.’

  ‘My dear, you’re surely not expecting Tony to hobble down the aisle on crutches?’ Nerissa asked, looking scandalized at the idea.

  ‘Why not? It’s been done before.’

  ‘And after subjecting him to that indignity, then what? You’d go back to your new apartment?’ Nerissa inquired with the sweetness of someone who had the upper hand.

  ‘Ah!’ Zoe said, seeing the, flaw in her own reasoning. ‘Tony couldn’t manage all the steps. It would be difficult to get him up them, and once there he would be a prisoner.’

  ‘Precisely. It isn’t a lot more convenient for him to come back here. We could have a bedroom fitted for him downstairs, but there’s the problem of the bathroom, which is upstairs. Luckily, Matt has come up with the ideal solution.’

  Zoe was suspicions of anything Matt put forward, but she held her tongue.

  ‘As you know, our mother lives in the South of France. Her house is a split-level and has a ground floor which has bedroom facilities. It will be just perfect for Tony, and his grandmother will be delighted with the arrangement. She’s always complaining that she doesn’t see enough of the family.’

  ‘You’re whisking Tony off to France?’ Zoe asked, turning to Matt.

  ‘He’ll be in a cast for at least six weeks after his discharge. He’s out of commission as far as work is concerned. He can’t drive in his present condition, which wouldn’t be a problem, because chauffeur service could be arranged for him, but, as everywhere else, there are too many steps for him to cope with at the works. As Nerissa has already told you, mother’s house in France has ground-floor bedrooms. But of course, if you can come up with something better . . . ?’

  ‘You know I can’t,’ Zoe admitted, not liking the way Tony was being removed beyond her sphere. If she didn’t care for that, the next bombshell Matt delivered was even less acceptable.

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ he said. ‘The only thing is, I won’t be whisking Tony off to France.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. You will.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘We feel that someone should accompany him. Nerissa is tied up with her various committees and charity work. I have a company to run. Also, it will give mother a chance to get to know you. From your point of view there are no difficulties. You’ve given up your job and your apartment. And perhaps it will make it up to you for missing your honeymoon in Portugal.’

  Oh, so that was to be the way of it. Putting on a big smile, she said, ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’m all for it. I haven’t even got round to unpacking my honeymoon suitcase yet, so I’m all set to go.’

  It wasn’t what she had thought at all, just the opposite! Matt was removing her from his sphere. She ought to have been relieved that she wouldn’t be in daily risk of encountering Matt; instead it was as if her legs had been kicked out from under her. She felt an intense need to punish both herself and Matt, herself
for her own perfidy and Matt for the brutal way he had flung the news at her. So she stuck her chin out at him and said, ‘Only what’s to stop the marriage taking place before we go?’

  It was Nerissa who answered. ‘I should think your consideration for my son would prevent your suggesting such a thing. In Tony’s condition, with his ribs the way they are and his leg broken, it would be too much of a strain. Not to mention the big disappointment it would be to me. I want this wedding to be perfect, and it wouldn’t be with Tony on crutches.’ She paused. Zoe switched from viewing the smirk on Matt’s face in time to see the speculative look that touched Nerissa’s features. ‘I hope this isn’t too indelicate a question, Zoe, but it’s something I must ask. You seem to be in an inordinate rush about things. Is there any desperate need for you to get married quickly?’

  Now who wasn’t showing consideration? The woman could have asked when they were alone. ‘No,’ she said as a hot flood of color stung her cheeks.

  * * *

  The preparations had been masterminded by Matt, so everything was going predictably smoothly. A wheelchair had been at their disposal at the airport to transport Tony through the formalities and onto the plane. Another wheelchair would be there when they touched down to take Tony to the car that would be waiting for them.

  ‘You don’t look too happy, darling,’ Tony said, taking her hand and looking ruefully at the lone ring on her finger. ‘Disappointed that it isn’t our honeymoon?’

  It wasn’t disappointment that had wiped the smile off Zoe’s face but fury at Matt’s whispered aside on parting. ‘Keep Tony’s delicate condition in mind, and don’t do anything that might put a strain on it.’ She wasn’t going to tell Tony that, so she sidestepped by counter questioning, ‘Aren’t you?’

  He gave her hand an extra squeeze. ‘You know I am; I’m as disappointed as hell. What a silly thing to do,’ he said, looking grimly at the ungainly plaster cast stuck out in front of him. The air authorities had been marvelous, ensuring a seat with extra room and providing a leg rest.

 

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