'Rhoda's in the kitchen performing miracles,' he informed her. 'Come in and I'll introduce you to some of our friends.'
Not surprisingly, many of these were from the arts world, and Briony found no shortage of shared interests or topics for conversation. But it seemed the evening was not to be purely an intellectual one. Rhoda's hand-tufted rugs had been rolled back from the gleaming polished floors to allow for dancing, and there were team games, some of them extremely energetic. Riding pick-a-back on a large jolly giant of a man, a laughing and extremely flushed Briony found herself suddenly face to face with the last person she had expected to see. She felt as if her heart had stopped completely in that instant of disbelief. Unnoticed by anyone, Teale had arrived and stood in the doorway towards which they were careering.
As he stepped further into the room, she saw that he was not dressed for a party. Over his thick sweater and trousers he wore a heavy sheepskin driving coat. In the harshness of the bright overhead light, his face looked pale and strained, his dark eyes hollowed by fatigue. Flakes of snow spangled his black hair, imitating a sprinkling of the grey its raven sheen did not in reality possess.
His dark eyes had not yet left her face, and her own grew large with pain and confusion as she could not decide whether she were glad or sorry to see him again.
'Teale,' she murmured his name and saw his head dip in polite acknowledgement. She felt ridiculous, still perched on the large man's back, and to her relief he let her slide to the ground as the game was postponed in honour of Teale's arrival.
'We weren't expecting you back tonight, and in such awful weather!' Rhoda exclaimed and her anxious glance at Briony did not escape Teale's attention. Briony saw his lips tighten.
'So it would seem.'
'But you're very welcome,' his sister went on hastily. 'Give me your coat. Matthew, get Teale a drink.'
Briony half expected Teale to say he wasn't staying, but he shrugged off his coat, accepted the glass his brother-in-law handed him and sank on to the large sofa which had been pushed into a corner of the room. He smiled up at his sister, though the smile was a weary one.
'It's good to be home. I suddenly felt I couldn't stand London another minute. Whatever the weather, I decided I'd try and get through.'
Teale's arrival seemed to put an end to the noisy, riotous fun, or maybe the guests had been tired anyway. Rhoda announced that supper would now be served, and soon people were seated on chairs or on the floor with loaded plates filled from the generous buffet.
Briony had contrived to find a seat where Teale's compelling gaze could not find her, but she was close enough to be able to hear his low-voiced conversation with his sister and to gather that his ex-wife had died over the Christmas holiday. She felt saddened, as she would be by the news of anyone's death, and particularly at such a time of year, and she wondered just how much Teale was affected by it. Did he regret the last few years of separation now that there was no chance of a reconciliation?
She was relieved when the large man, whose name she had discovered was Ivor, drew her into an animated discussion on Impressionist art. It was impossible to forget Teale's presence, but at least she need not let him see how much it disturbed her; when the dancing recommenced she willingly let Ivor lead her on to the floor.
As the only unpartnered woman at the party, she was much in demand among the Rawlinsons' unattached male friends, and she danced every dance. She was aware of Teale dancing, too. Sometimes the movement brought him and his partner so close that her arm brushed against his in passing, but she steadfastly avoided meeting his eyes. She was aware of a strange kind of tension whenever he was near, as though some tangible sensation passed between them. But it could only be in her own imagination, she told herself.
She had not expected that he would ask her to dance, and when he did it was impossible to refuse under the eyes of the other guests. She had to breathe in deeply to steady her trembling voice as she accepted. She was desperately afraid that any physical contact with him would destroy the fragile defences she had erected.
It was growing late and most couples were intimately entwined. Teale took her in a similarly close hold, her hand held to the warmth of his chest so that she could feel the steady heartbeat beneath the rough wool of his sweater. The male scent of him was in her nostrils, intoxicating her senses, and it was an exquisite agony to feel the pressure of his hard body against hers. He did not speak at first, though his mouth was near enough to her ear for him to have done so had he wished. The music was a slow, sultry number, the vocalisation husky, the words of the song spoke of tender love, of passion. The skilful pressure of Teale's legs guided her around the floor. His hand, placed firmly at the base of her spine, prevented her easing away from him.
'Did you spend Christmas here, too?'
She could sense that he was looking down at her, but she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the beige wool of his sweater.
'No.' Her voice was so low that he had to incline his head to hear her and she felt a strand of his hair brush her temple.
'Ah! Of course! I forgot. You were expecting someone?' He was patently waiting for a detailed reply, but all he received was a muffled 'yes'.
'Was it an enjoyable Christmas?'
'Yes, thank you.' She must ask Rhoda not to reveal that she'd spent it alone.
He tried to see into her face.
'You're very monosyllabic tonight. Are you still angry with me?'
'No!' She tried to sound surprised, indifferent.
She must have succeeded, for there was a note of chagrin in his voice as he said, 'And you haven't missed me either, I take it?'
'Christmas is a busy time,' she said evasively. 'Even more so with Promilla away.'
There was a long silence and she began to think he had abandoned any attempts at conversation. The dance seemed never-ending. She risked a glance at her wrist-watch and wondered how soon she could decently leave the party. It was almost midnight. She would wait for the New Year toasts, she decided, then bid Rhoda a discreet farewell. With luck, she could slip away without advertising her departure.
At last their dance ended, but somehow the deprivation of his nearness was worse than the disturbing closeness.
At five minutes to twelve Matthew switched on the radio so that Big Ben's midnight chimes would be heard; and they stood around, charged glasses in hand. As the last chime faded away there began a round of handshaking and kissing. Briony dreaded the moment when she would encounter Teale, and when she did so she held out her hand, hoping he would take the hint.
He clasped her hand, but he used it to draw her closer, and she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. There was the electrifying sensation of something linking, tightening, an intolerable tension that quivered between them.
'Why so formal, Briony?' he said mockingly and then she was in his arms, held in an iron-hard embrace. Her blood throbbed in urgent pulses as his lips sought and claimed hers.
It was no token kiss. One strong arm about her waist prevented her from moving. His free hand curved the shape of her cheek, the fingertips caressing the sensitive spot behind her ear. As the kiss grew in intensity, so did the pressure of his body against hers, and Briony was left in no doubt that he was aroused. Her body leapt with answering erotic sensation and, in spite of everything, she thrilled to the knowledge that she could still have this effect on him.
A rousing cheer from the other guests alerted her to the fact that their kiss had gone on far too long. Flushing, she struggled free, heart still thudding wildly. She saw Rhoda's eyes upon her, speculative and approving, and from a momentary exaltation of spirits Briony plummeted to despair. Only she knew how little that kiss had meant to Teale in terms of affection. It had been purely physical, a passing moment of lust excited by good food, drink and the occasion. As he moved on to kiss someone else, she gained Rhoda's side.
'Will you excuse me if I go now?' She was aware that her voice was tremulous. 'I don't want to be too late driving back.'
'Briony,' Rhoda
began, 'why don't you… ?'
'No one's going to be driving anywhere,' one of the other guests interrupted. 'I've just been outside to look at the weather.' He made a general announcement. 'We seem to be snowed in, folks.'
There was a buzz of exclamation and everyone hurried to the door to verify the truth of his statement. Around the cottage, the snow lay not in inches but at least a foot in depth. The guests' cars, including Briony's, all wore a thick coating. Snow still fell, whirled into blizzardlike proportions by a strong chill wind.
'There'll be heavy drifting on the roads,' someone said.
'And it's freezing hard,' said another, 'the roads will be like a skating rink.'
'Visibility will be poor,' a third added.
'You'll all have to stay overnight,' Rhoda decided. 'It won't be very comfortable, I'm afraid. With all the kids home for the holiday, we only have one spare bedroom, and Mary and John have already bagged that.' She indicated an elderly couple who had travelled some distance for the party.
'There's plenty of rooms up at my place,' Teale broke in, 'if you're willing to make up the beds yourselves.'
Briony had too much sense to protest that she would try to get home. She knew only too well how dangerous the narrow, high-banked lanes around Gwinvercombe could be in this kind of weather. But she looked anxiously at Rhoda, hoping the other woman would suggest some way she could remain at the cottage. Even an armchair would suffice.
Rhoda, however, seemed not to notice Briony's despairing glance as she busied herself organising gum-boots for those who had none. Perhaps she didn't want the trouble of an extra overnight guest.
Five minutes later, Briony found herself one of a noisy party who laughed, whooped and joked as they slipped and slithered over the already hardening surface on the long trek up to the big house. Only Briony was silent, dreading the hours that must be spent under Teale's roof.
On arrival at the manor they all trooped into the large kitchen where the women set to, making hot drinks to thaw everyone out after the cold traipse through the snow, which in places had been knee-deep. No one seemed to be in any hurry to retire. In fact, the gathering in the kitchen looked like developing into another party. They might as well have stayed at Rhoda's until first light, Briony thought miserably, then she would have been spared this ordeal.
She'd believed herself unnoticed as she huddled in a corner of the kitchen, her hands clasped for comfort around the hot mug of coffee—the chill she felt was more than that caused by the weather—but Teale came towards her.
'This lot look set in for the night,' he said, confirming her own thoughts. 'But you look tired. Would you like me to show you your room?'
'If you'll just tell me which one it is, I'll find my own way,' she said quickly. 'There's no need for you to leave your guests.'
'They're not mine!' His tone was wry. 'They're all Rhoda's friends. They won't miss me.' A hand under her elbow, he steered her out of the kitchen and into the front hall. 'I suppose Rhoda didn't think to lend you any nightclothes?' And, as she shook her head, 'I'd better find you something to wear. The central heating will have gone off hours ago.' He paused at the door of what Briony knew to be his room. 'Come in and I'll see what I can find.'
'I'll wait for you here,' she told him and saw the sudden awareness that lit his eyes.
'Why, Briony,' he murmured putting a finger under her chin, 'I do believe you're afraid of me.' She was afraid, but not only of him, of what he might say or do, but also of her own reactions to him. 'Little coward!' It was said affectionately. 'Come on in.' He gave her hand a tug and the irresistible need to be near him carried her into his room and the door closed behind them.
The light was switched on, illuminating his dark head and broad shoulders as he rummaged in a drawer.
'Will this do you?' He turned and held out a pyjama jacket. 'You can have the trousers as well, if you like, but I doubt you'd be able to keep them up.' His voice was suddenly husky as he moved back towards her, his eyes assessing her. 'You're such a little slip of a thing.'
'N-no, the jacket will do.' Briony held out her hand for the garment, but he kept hold of it so that it formed a link between them.
'I've been doing a hell of a lot of thinking while I've been away, Briony. There was plenty of time for thinking, sitting up all night and every night with Charlene.'
'I heard you tell Rhoda that she… I'm sorry, Teale.'
He nodded, accepting her sympathy. 'It isn't easy to watch someone you once believed you loved dying. But it made me realise something…' He paused, searched for words, and Briony found herself watching him with a painful intensity.
'It made me realise just how short life is,' he went on, 'and how much more there is to life than I've had out of it so far. It's true I have a lot more than some people. I'm a moderately successful man. I work at a profession I enjoy. I own this beautiful old house. I earn enough to keep myself in comfort for the rest of my life. But these are all material things, and I began to ask myself what else I had. Who is there really to care what becomes of me?'
'There's Rhoda and little Scott,' Briony said. 'Twins are always very close, and you have your son.' Whereas I have no one, she thought, not even my daughter, really. Nervous flutterings assailed her stomach. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She wanted him to go on, yet feared what he might say. She wanted him to tell her that his sister and his son were not enough, that he needed her, too. But suppose it was still only physical assuagement that he asked of her?
'Briony!' A tug of the pyjama jacket eliminated the distance between them. The jacket fell unheeded to the ground as long fingers dug almost painfully into her shoulders. 'I found myself thinking, suppose anything were to happen to you, as it happened to Charlene.' Thickly, he muttered, 'Do you still care for me, Briony?'
There was no point in denying that she had cared for him. Her behaviour at their last meeting had given that away. She stared up into unfathomable dark eyes. She did care for him still, oh, so much! But if she admitted it…
'Teale, I…'
'I told Rhoda I had to get back. It was true that I hate London and that I'd just experienced the most depressing few days I can ever remember. But I had other reasons for wanting to be at home. I wanted to come back to you, Briony.'
She drew in a quick, silent breath, her heart leaping. But she wouldn't make assumptions, would not let herself rejoice prematurely. There had been no commitment so far in what he'd said.
'I drove over to Gwinvercombe first, to the Blue Unicorn. When you weren't there, I hoped you might be at Rhoda's. Then, when I walked into that room and saw you with Ivor, for a moment I thought…' He drew her against the hard muscles of his chest, and a shiver of excruciating ecstasy quivered through her. 'I think,' muttered Teale, 'that's the first time in my life I've ever experienced blind, savage jealousy.' His hands moulded her closer to his hard male outline, and Briony felt his warm breath against her hair. 'I didn't realise till then that I'd come to think of you as mine. I still want you, Briony. God knows how I want you!' The masculine hardness against her left her in no doubt that he meant what he said.
But at his words she shivered. She felt she knew what he would say next. She ought to make an effort to break away from him, now, because the shock-waves of physical contact with him had undermined her resolve and she might very easily succumb if he tried to make love to her.
'Briony, the way you acted when we were last together made me almost certain that you loved me. Darling, won't you tell me? Put me out of this agony?'
For a moment she strained away, her hands pressed to his chest, struggling to deny the wild beat of her heart. But his hand curled around the back of her neck and he bent his head, murmuring muffled endearments against the thickness of her coppery hair. Her world spun crazily and Briony scarcely knew any longer what was right or wrong. All she knew was that her head whirled with his nearness. She could feel the acceleration of his breathing and felt him shudder as she yielded to his embrace, winding her arms a
bout the muscular strength of his neck…
She did not deny him as he kissed her with commanding strength and passion, his mouth buried hungrily in hers, deepening and deepening the kiss until she clung to him, limp with longing. Then his lips moved on to roam the hollows of her throat, while with one hand he sought for the fastenings at the back of the silky suit she wore. She felt the zip yield part-way to him, just enough to allow him to slip the bodice from her shoulders, allowing his hand to seek for and find her breasts. His exploring fingers paused and she felt him shudder as he discovered the peaks aroused by the magnetic chemistry of his hands.
'You want me, Briony,' he said positively, his mouth following the trail his lips had blazed. 'You want me. You can't deny it.'
'Yes, I want you.' She couldn't deny it, but it was reckless to admit it. Never had she been so conscious of her own feminine vulnerability as his caresses intensified.
'Love me, Briony,' he urged. 'Stay with me tonight. I need you. Let's begin the New Year together. Say yes, darling, please.'
She moaned as his hands, sensually exploring and masterful, began to slide the rest of the garment down over her hips, his touch kindling erotic fires wherever it brushed her skin. Shivers of desire cascaded down her spine.
'I love you, Teale,' she whispered. She ached with longing. 'I love you.'
He lifted his dark head and his eyes, full of ardent fire, studied her face.
'You see!' A complacent smile curved the sensual lines of his mouth, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and as always her heart performed crazy somersaults. 'I so nearly let you get away from me. But never again.' He began to draw her across the room towards the bed.
'But Teale…' He still hadn't said…
'No buts, my love.' His mouth descended again, cutting off her protests, his kiss sweetly possessive; she was unable to deny him, her lips moving lovingly under his. She seemed to have no will-power to refuse him whatever he wanted. The edge of the bed was behind her knees and they were sinking down on to it. In a moment, she would be lost. But it didn't seem so dreadful a fate, after all, when she compared it with the empty days without him.
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