by Penny Jordan
‘Somer?’
‘Chase!’ Her voice went weak with relief. Half crying, she told him about the news flash. ‘Chase, my father…’
‘I’ll see what I can find out,’ he promised. ‘Try not to panic.’ The phone rang almost the moment Somer put it down, and she snatched up the receiver, but it was only Helena calling to ask anxiously about Somer’s father.
It was the first of a dozen or more similar calls, and Somer was near to screaming point when she heard the front door open and then slam closed.
‘Somer?’ Her heartbeats quickened as she heard Chase’s voice. His hair was ruffled, and he looked tired. ‘I came back as quickly as I could. Have you heard anything?’
‘Nothing.’ She tried to sound calm, but her voice quivered. More than anything else she longed to go to Chase and be enfolded in his arms, to share with him her pain, but she didn’t have that right.
Chase picked up the telephone receiver and punched some numbers into it. ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’ he suggested, throwing the comment at her over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to make some phone calls. Use my contacts to find out what I can, but it could take hours with a nil result. You look exhausted.’
‘So do you…and besides I couldn’t sleep.’
The hours that followed had a nightmare quality, telephone calls punctuated by brief silences. Each time the phone rang her heartbeat accelerated, only to fade when Chase’s enquiries elicited no response.
‘The problem is that there’s just no information coming out of Qu’hoor,’ Chase told her. ‘Even the FO doesn’t know anything apart from the fact that there is an uprising.’
It hadn’t surprised Somer that Chase had known immediately whom to contact. His efficiency comforted her, but not as much as his tenderness would have done. At two o’clock he said firmly, ‘You’re going to bed. I still have one or two contacts I haven’t tried—some of the American stations have stringers in the Middle Eastern countries, they might know something, but there’s no point in you staying up.’
‘I’d never sleep.’
‘You will if you drink this.’ Chase poured her a large measure of brandy and then stood over her as she drank the fiery liquid.
Knowing that Chase was right and that she couldn’t do anything to help, and yet wanting to stay, she went upstairs reluctantly, quickly undressing and showering.
Two hours later she was still restlessly awake, her ears stretched for the ring of the phone. Knowing that sleep was impossible she slid out of bed, reaching for her robe, and finding instead that her fingers had curled round the soft towelling of Chase’s. It carried faint traces of his body scent and she found herself sliding her arms into it, craving the comfort of it.
When she got downstairs Chase was seated by the phone. He had unfastened his shirt, and his face was etched with exhaustion.
The phone rang and he reached for it, his movements lacking his normally smooth coordination. As he looked up he saw Somer and tensed, and then his entire concentration was fixed on whoever he was talking to, staccato questions bitten out and answers received, while Somer clung unsteadily to the back of a chair.
‘Don’t look like that,’ he said wearily when he had finished. ‘Your father’s alive and well. Apparently he was out of the capital when the coup took place. He had been invited to visit one of the minor princes, and decided to accept the invitation at the last moment. He was there when news reached them of the coup and he’s now safe in Saudi, but because of the panic it’s taken some time to get the news through. Hey,’ he said softly when he saw the slow tears gathering in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks. ‘Hey, come on, it’s all right… Somer, it’s all right.’
Somehow she was in his arms, where she had longed to be and they had closed around her. She started to shake as she breathed the musky scent of his skin, going boneless as relief and pleasure mingled in a dangerously heady aphrodisiac.
‘I can’t believe that he’s safe. He’s all I’ve got…’
‘Apart from me.’
She knew that Chase was only trying to lighten her intensely emotional mood, but her heart started to hammer in response to his soft comment and she wanted more than anything else in the world to stay where she was.
‘You must be tired.’ She whispered the words into his throat.
‘Umm…and in need of a shower, but that’s going to be difficult…’
‘It is?’
Both of them were talking in husky whispers, although there was no one to overhear them. The phone rang again and Chase picked it up. It was the Foreign Office confirmation of the news about her father. Chase kept her within the circle of his arm while he spoke and then left the receiver off the hook.
‘Let anyone else who wants to find out what’s happened, find out for themselves. I’m going to have to repossess my robe if I’m going to have a shower—you don’t like me walking about in the nude—remember? Although it seems that one of us… You aren’t wearing anything underneath it, are you?’
She wasn’t. She had felt too hot to sleep after the brandy Chase had given her, and had discarded her nightdress.
‘Come on…we might as well try to get some sleep for what’s left of the night.’ Chase bent and picked her up in his arms. ‘You look ready to fall asleep on your feet.’
Upstairs he pulled back the covers of her bed, before placing her on it. Somer watched him disappear in the direction of the communicating door with an aching heart. She was still wearing his robe and she cuddled into it, drawing comfort from its warmth around her. She was practically asleep when Chase came back, a towel wrapped round his hips, his body gleaming soft gold in the light from his room, the dark hair on his chest, still slick with water.
‘I’ve come back for my robe.’
‘No.’ Somer clutched protestingly at the soft fabric, uttering the denial without thinking. ‘No, don’t take it away from me. It smells of you,’ she said childishly, barely aware of what she was saying as the brandy and mental exhaustion took their toll. Above her she thought she heard Chase make a sound which could have been a protest, but she knew that she must already be asleep and dreaming when she heard him say huskily, ‘If it’s the scent of me you want there’s something much better than my robe.’
Because she knew it was a dream Somer knew there was no need for her to protest as she was gently rolled on to her side and the robe removed. With a sigh of pure pleasure she went into Chase’s arms as he lay down beside her, burying her face in the curve of his throat.
‘Mmm…’ she murmured her pleasure in a low-throated whisper as her dream gave way to deeper sleep. If she couldn’t actually be in Chase’s arms, dreaming she was was the very next best thing.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE woke up slowly, knowing that something was different, but not knowing what, until she had surfaced enough to recognise that the pleasurable weight across her body was Chase’s outflung arm, the palm of one hand possessively cupping her breast, lean brown fingers curling round the soft fullness of her body.
‘Chase?’
Somer wasn’t sure why she whispered his name, instead of moving away from him. Certain shaming memories were surfacing and her skin went hot and cold as she remembered how she had behaved. The disputed robe lay on the floor beyond the bed, and she cringed to remember how she had clung to it, and worse still, telling Chase why.
‘Umm…’
He wasn’t asleep! On the contrary, he was studying her with a lazy appreciation that suddenly made Somer realise that the bedclothes had slipped and that the creamy fullness of her breasts was clearly revealed for his leisurely inspection. And he wasn’t merely looking; his thumb was rhythmically stroking across her nipple, increasing the flow of sensual sweetness pouring through her veins. Instead of repudiating him and listening to all the warnings flashing with almost incoherent urgency through her brain, she was arching delicately; stretching her body with sensual pleasure, yes, almost enjoying the predatory male glitter that darkened his eyes as t
hey swept across her face and down over the twin curves of her breasts.
‘What would you say if I told you that I needed the taste of you even more than you needed the scent of me last night?’ Chase demanded with ragged urgency.
His hands pushed aside the bedclothes as he pulled her into his arms, parting her lips to taste the warmth of her mouth. There was no time for her to gather her defences. The heady pleasure of his mouth on hers had already shattered them. His chest crushed her breasts, his hands sliding down her body to mould her against him while she yielded to the urgent invasion of his tongue.
‘Somer, Somer, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I know what it’s doing to me,’ he groaned against her mouth. Her body seemed to ignite at the contact with his, nerve endings quivering into response, her body arching eagerly against him, inciting the response he couldn’t suppress.
Cupping her face in his hands, Chase teased her lips. ‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded. ‘I want to see you.’
Unwillingly Somer did so. His own were vivid blazing green, forcing her gaze along their entwined bodies, making her witness the tender caresses of his hands against her skin. Almost without his having to touch them her breasts burgeoned into urgent life, Chase tormenting them both with the chain of tiny kisses he traced downwards over her throat and down, circling round the tender crowning aureole of flesh, gradually decreasing the circles, until his own breathing became as ragged as Somer’s and his tongue moved hotly against her nipple.
There was something almost dreamlike about their lovemaking, a true giving and taking that left Somer free to show him the pleasure he was giving her and to return it with hungrily aroused kisses and soft little noises of delight, her tongue stroking experimentally over the angles and planes of male flesh, testing it and finding it equally responsive to her own.
‘Somer…’ Chase growled warningly when she had teased him to the point where their mutual need for fulfilment was almost a physical pain for them both.
In response she wrapped her arms round him, arching her body invitingly against him, and sighing softly with pleasure when he was unable to resist her unspoken invitation.
They had never made love like this before, with an almost languorous lack of haste, that only now, with the fierce heat of Chase’s body spreading through her, became an urgency that Somer responded to with shivering waves of ecstasy, that built up to a shattering climax.
‘Now I know how Superman feels,’ Somer murmured light-heartedly in the dizzy aftermath.
‘If that’s supposed to be a compliment, I’ve told you once I don’t like substituting for anyone,’ Chase drawled threateningly. His voice sounded uneven and his heart pounded against her like a sledgehammer. Somer was still feeling far enough removed from reality to say dreamily, ‘No… I mean the flying…’ before she fell asleep with the rumble of Chase’s deep laughter still reverberating through her body.
When she woke up she was alone. She glanced at her watch and couldn’t believe it. Lunch time!
She showered quickly and then went downstairs. Where was Chase?
In the dining-room she found a note. ‘Had to go to the studio,’ it read, ‘but tonight, we’re going out celebrating.’ There was no indication about what they were celebrating and Somer felt small tremors of pleasure running across her skin as she remembered their early morning lovemaking. Had Chase guessed how she felt about him? Somehow that prospect didn’t seem as terrifying as it once had. She even found herself humming as she walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.
She was just finishing it when the doorbell rang. Getting up to answer it Somer was surprised to see Clancy Williams standing there. For a few, heady hours she had completely forgotten about the other woman’s existence. A foolish mistake, she acknowledged painfully, as she stood back to let her walk in.
‘I was driving past so I thought I’d call and tell you that Chase will be home late tonight—that’s if he comes home at all,’ she added maliciously. ‘He’s taking me out to dinner.’
‘Yes, he did telephone to say that he might be delayed a little tonight,’ Somer lied. Inside she wanted to weep. All the bright promise of the morning had suddenly been destroyed.
‘If I hadn’t gone to the States he would never have married you,’ Clancy told Somer positively. ‘He loves me.’
‘But you did, and he did,’ Somer pointed out coldly, ‘and now I would like you to leave.’
When her uninvited guest had gone Somer sank back down into her chair. It had been no mere ‘chance’ visit. Clancy had come round deliberately to let her know that Chase would be with her this evening—and tonight, if she had her way. The phone rang making her jump.
‘Somer?’
She went cold at the sound of Chase’s voice. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to cancel this evening…’
Somer longed to shriek and rave at him, to tell him she knew exactly why he was cancelling their dinner date, but instead she just said calmly, ‘Oh, that’s all right. In fact I think I’ll go down to Barnwell. I had a phone call this morning to say the decorator’s keen to start. I want to show him exactly what I want done.’
‘When will you be back?’ Chase’s voice was edged with impatience.
‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ Somer was deliberately vague. ‘It could be several days.’
‘Somer…’ In the distance Somer heard another telephone ring and Chase curse. ‘Look, I’ve got to go, I’m right in the middle of some very difficult negotiations, that’s why I’m having to postpone tonight.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Somer assured him coldly, ‘I understand completely.’
How dare he lie to her, pretending that it was work that kept him out late in the evenings, when in reality…How dare he make love to her with tenderness and something that came perilously close to real emotion when she was just a substitute for Clancy Williams?
Having said she was going to Barnwell, she might as well do so, Somer reflected. It was true that the decorator was ready to start work and working might help to keep her mind off Chase.
For two full days it seemed as though her self-imposed solitary regime was beginning to work, and then on the third day Helena arrived. ‘Chase asked me to check that you were still here,’ she told Somer. ‘He’s been ringing without getting any response.’
Because she had been ignoring the telephone! Somer gritted her teeth.
‘And why didn’t you let me know you were coming down, you could have stayed with us, instead of living here on your own? It’s such a large house, I wouldn’t care to stay here alone at night.’
‘I’ve been so tired that I’ve fallen asleep the moment my head’s touched the pillow,’ Somer lied. Not for the world was she going to admit to Chase’s sister that she couldn’t sleep without imagining that Chase was beside her; that she was in his arms.
‘Any more news about your father?’ Helena questioned.
‘I managed to speak to him before I left London. He’s safe in Saudi Arabia, and there’s every chance now that the uprising will be quelled. Chase was marvellous,’ she admitted unwillingly, ‘if it hadn’t been for him…’
‘Umm. I know what you mean. He can be a real tower of strength although he does have his more vulnerable moments. He was devastated when our uncle died, even though we’d been expecting it for months. He and the old boy were really close, which is why he left everything to Chase. Of course he’d already handed over the bulk of his financial affairs and assets to Chase several years ago, and untangling them caused him more than one headache. It was then that he decided to stop working as a photographer, but he didn’t want to just sit back and live off Uncle Charles’s money, so he invested his own in Television West and took over his present job.
‘When he first inherited I used to tease him that he was going to be another Uncle Charles and that he’d have to leave the lot to my crew because he’d never have any children of his own. I’m afraid I was being guilty of a little sisterly prying. I�
��d seen your photographs you see and I knew you were someone special. Chase has never gone in for that particular style of thing,’ she grimaced lightly. ‘At first I admit I was surprised but my dear brother can be as close as a clam when he wants to be. I even wondered at first if you were some sort of gold-digger and that you’d refused to marry him until you learned about his inheritance, but as soon as we met…’
‘I didn’t know anything about his inheritance,’ Somer said quite truthfully.
‘No, well he doesn’t put it abroad. Uncle Charles was extremely wealthy, and even though he made over a large proportion of his fortune to Chase many years ago, to avoid death duties, there was still a sizeable amount to come to him when Uncle Charles died. Just as well if everything I hear about the plans you’ve got for this place are true,’ Helena chuckled. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Quite well.’ Somer was proud of her calm tone. Inwardly she was almost dizzy with the hectic pace of her thoughts. Chase had told her that he had to marry to gain his inheritance, but unless that was something Helena didn’t know, it would seem that he had lied to her. But why? Why blackmail her into marriage?
‘I suppose you’re anxious to rush it through so that you and Chase can move in. He’s told me that he intends to take a more back-seat role in Television West. I can’t say that I’m not pleased. It will be lovely having you down here, especially if you provide me with some nieces,’ she added with a predatory look. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but there’s a certain something about you…’
On the point of opening her mouth to strenuously deny Helena’s comment, Somer paused, and then closed it again.
‘Made you think, haven’t I?’ Helena chuckled. ‘I can’t wait to see my brother’s face when you tell him about that.’
Only she wouldn’t be telling Chase anything, Somer thought miserably, especially not the fact that it was possible that she could have conceived his child. Possible, but very far from certain, Somer reminded herself.