by Penny Jordan
'I've got to go down to the yard for half an hour.'
The yard ... or to see Carla.
Heartsick, she called out some response which must have satisfied him because she heard him going back downstairs, and then within minutes the back door opened and closed again.
She had to get away, she thought feverishly. She couldn't stay here any longer. She couldn't endure any more pain. She had already inflicted sufficient on herself surely, she thought bitterly. She had known all along that Gray didn't love her ... but she had also thought he had meant what he said about ending his affair with Carla. Had she secretly hoped that he might eventually turn to her?
Oh, what did it matter now? She had to get away. She had to escape before she betrayed herself any further. When she thought about last night, when she remembered how she had adored and worshipped him in the most intimate way there could be ... She closed her eyes and swallowed.
And he had seemed to share her feelings, to ...
Restlessly she got off the bed. Why delude herself any further? He had probably been pretending she was Carla. The pain that racked her body reinforced her decision to leave. If she stayed ... She couldn't stay.
Recklessly she flung clothes into her suitcase without folding them. She had half an hour, that was all. She made it with five minutes to spare, not even turning once to look behind her as she drove out of the village heading for the motorway and London.
She had left Gray a note simply stating that she thought it best to leave. That way at least she could salvage something of her pride.
It didn't sustain her for very long. Before she was even half-way back she would have given anything for Gray to simply materialise beside her and take her back. It was degrading to love someone so intensely, especially when there was not the remotest chance of her feelings being returned.
After such thoughts, it came as something of a shock to look in her driving mirror and discover the flashing lights of the car racing up behind her.
Her ridiculous hope that Gray might actually have pursued her died the moment she recognised the woman behind the wheel of the other car.
Carla!
For one mad moment she was tempted to try to out- speed her, but one look at Carla's sporty, expensive- looking car confirmed that her own VW would have no hope of outrunning it, and so instead she pulled off the road at the first lay-by, and stopped her car, fighting against the fierce tension gripping her as she heard Carla stop behind her.
In her driving mirror she could see the other woman
running towards her VW.
'Stephanie, where are you going? When I saw Gray, he told me ..
'That he and I have been lovers.'
Pride made her say the words before Carla could, her chin tilting defiantly. She had no idea why Carla had followed her, nor could she totally understand the concerned note in the older woman's voice, but she was too wrought up to dwell on these anomalies now.
'Stephanie, I don't think you understand.'
Incredibly, Carla sounded sympathetic and was actually reaching out to touch her, her hand resting lightly on her arm as though she was half afraid that Stephanie might dash away.
'You're running away, aren't you? Leaving Gray? Look, come and sit in my car for a moment so that we can talk.'
Much as she wanted to refuse, Stephanie discovered that she wasn't going to be given the opportunity to do so. Taking her arm in a firm grip, Carla all but dragged her over to her car, and somehow or other Stephanie discovered that she was sitting in its passenger seat, while Carla turned to face her in the driver's seat, an earnest and very determined expression on her face.
'I know you probably think this is none of my business . . . but I can't simply stand by and let you ruin Gray's life.'
'Me ... ruin Gray's life ...' Stephanie began indignantly, but Carla wasn't listening.
'I couldn't believe it when I spotted you driving away from the village. When I saw Gray this morning ..
'You told him that you weren't prepared to go on deceiving me,' Stephanie told her grimly.
'So you overhear us! I thought I heard someone. Look, Stephanie, I know that you think Gray and I are romantically involved, but you couldn't be more wrong. Please, just let me ask you one thing. Do you love Gray?'
She wanted to deny it; she fully intended to deny it, but instead of doing so she heard herself saying huskily, 'Yes, yes I do.'
'Thank God for that!'
Carla's heartfelt exclamation was the last thing she had expected to hear.
'Look, let's start at the beginning, shall we?'
'You mean the beginning of your affair with Gray?' Stephanie demanded grittily, already regretting the weakness that had lulled her into betraying her feelings.
'No,' Carla denied softly. 'I mean the beginning of his love for you.'
Shock held Stephanie right in her seat. What sort of cruel game was Carla playing?
'Gray doesn't love me,' she began bitterly.
But Carla cut across her objections and said firmly, 'Oh yes, he does, and I'm betraying his confidence to tell you this, Stephanie. He's loved you since you were eighteen. He told me so when he begged me for my help. You see, when he realised you thought that he and I were having an affair, he begged me to go along with your misconception. He told me how you had offered to help him to save him from my clutches.'
Carla grinned unrepentantly at Stephanie's shocked expression. 'That was when I began to think that there was hope for Gray, after all. No woman could be so self- sacrificing without caring. I have to confess, though, that it hasn't been easy playing the part you cast for me, and as I told Gray this morning, it's time he told you the truth, and how he feels about you. That was what you overheard,' Carla told her softly. 'Gray loves you, Stephanie.'
'Then why hasn't he told me so?'
'Because he's frightened of driving you away ... of losing what little he believes he has of you. This morning he told me that he couldn't stand it any longer, and that he had to tell you how he feels. When I saw you driving away from the village I couldn't believe it. I had to stop you to find out what had happened ...'
It took two hours of emotionally exhausting but steadfast talking on Carla's part before Stephanie came anywhere near believing her, but in the end not even she was proof against the other woman's obvious sincerity and concern.
Now so many of the previous anomalies in Carla's behaviour were explained.
'When I overheard the two of you this morning, I thought he had been deceiving me all the time,' she said shakily at last.
'Shouldn't you be telling Gray this and not me?' Carla asked gently. 'He won't come to you, Stephanie; he's too scared of losing you completely. When he finds out that you've gone, he'll draw the obvious conclusion—that you don't care enough about him to stay. If you want him, I'm afraid you'll have to tell him so.'
If she wanted him? She gave the other woman a shaky smile.
'And just for the record,' Carla added firmly, 'I like and admire Gray as a friend, both of us do, but Alex is the man I love, I hope that's understood.'
Stephanie wasn't quite sure what she understood apart from the fact that it was imperative that she get back to Gray just as quickly as possible.
As she got out of Carla's car she turned impulsively to the other woman and asked hesitantly, 'Are you sure ...?'
'I know a man who's in love when I see one.'
'Wish me luck, then.'
'You won't need it,' Carla assured her. 'Just walk in, open your arms and tell him you love him. That's all you need to do.'
Never had twenty miles taken so long to cover. Even pressing her VW as hard as she dared it seemed to take lor ever before she saw the familiar outline of the estuary and the huddle of the village rooftops.
All her Old fear had gone, and in its place was a feeling of peace and homecoming. At long last she had buried all her ghosts and she was free to step into the future.
A future that would be no future at all without Gray to share it w
ith her, she reminded herself as she drove down the village street, and parked outside the cottage.
To her intense disappointment there was no sign of Gray anywhere. He had obviously returned to the cottage since her departure, because her note was gone, ,md she grimaced distastefully over the bowl full of dirty washing up—that was unlike Gray, who was normally such a tidy person.
In the sitting-room she discovered a half-empty bottle of whisky and a tumbler, and then as she moved round the corner of the settee she discovered that Gray wasn't out at all; instead he was lying curled up on the settee, deeply asleep.
Gray drinking! It was practically unheard of. Compassion, guilt and love welled up inside her and she bent to touch his face lightly with her fingertips.
He made a sound in his sleep but didn't wake up. She debated about what to do for several minutes, and then decided to let him have his sleep out. To stop herself from losing her fragile courage while she waited, she set about cleaning up the kitchen, and then collected some logs and lit the fire in the sitting-room.
It was a cold day with a rough breeze coming off the sea, chilly enough to raise goose-bumps on her flesh, and certainly cool enough to merit a fire. Besides, it gave her something to do. She was mortally afraid that if Gray didn't wake up soon she would lose her courage completely and turn tail and run.
She sat back on her heels and watched him after she had lit the fire. The beginnings of a dark stubble covered his jaw; in sleep he looked vulnerable and pale. She sighed and got up to go and wash her hands, and then on impulse made some coffee. He might welcome a cup when he eventually woke up.
She couldn't let him sleep much longer. If she did ... She sensed that Carla was right when she said that Gray would not tell her voluntarily how he felt. So many mistakes between them ... so much wasted time.
She kneeled beside him and took his hand in her own, bending over him to feather a light kiss against his lips.
Almost immediately his eyelashes lifted. The look in his eyes when he saw her told its own story. Almost immediately he shielded them, and as she swallowed the lump that had gathered in her throat, she said huskily, 'Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.'
He frowned and struggled to sit up, clutching his head as he did so. 'My God, have I got a hangover!'
'A well-deserved one, to judge from this,' Stephanie told him wryly, displaying the half-empty bottle.
He frowned and looked at her. 'You left . . .'
'Yes.' It had to be now, before she lost her courage completely. 'And now I'm back. Gray, before either of us says anything else, there's something I must tell you.' She was unconsciously pleating the fabric of his shirt as she avoided looking directly at him.
'I... I left this morning because . .. because I love you far too much to stay here with you any longer as your friend ...'
For a moment she thought Carla had been wrong and that she had just made the most embarrassing admission of her life, and then Gray said weakly, 'Say that again. I don't think I heard it properly.'
'I love you,' she repeated huskily. 'I love you, Gray.'
She held out her arms and was almost lifted off her feet as he got up in one lithe motion and closed his own round her, kissing her with open hunger.
if you feel like that about me, then why the hell did you leave?' he demanded thickly against her mouth. 'Have you any idea of what you've put me through ? Of how many empty years I've waited to hear you say that to me?'
Tears burned her eyes and she shook her head.
'We can talk later. Just hold me now, Gray. I still can't believe it's true. I thought you loved Carla ...
'And I was too damned scared of driving you away to tell you how I felt. I told myself it was enough that I could arouse you ... that through me you'd learned what it meant to be a woman. I told myself that if I was patient love would come, and then I thought I'd gone and ruined everything by frightening you half to death with my need for you, making you run away.'
Stephanie laughed at that, a delicious sound that smoothed the tension.
'You can frighten me like that any time you like,' she teased, squirming at his mock growl of annoyance, loving the way his body immediately hardened against hers at her provocatively enticing movement.
'When ... when did you first know how you felt about me?' Gray demanded. 'And why the hell have you waited so long to tell me?'
'I don't really know . . .it just sort of grew on me.. .at first I just thought my jealousy of Carla was because I resented what she was doing to you—then I realised it was more than that.'
She swallowed and offered him a small smile.
'That day when I walked into your room and saw you, I was stunned by how I felt ... I thought I must have imagined it. Paul never made me feel like that, not even in the beginning when I first thought I loved him. Then, later, I remembered you lifting me out of my father's boat one day when we first came down to the estuary. I mooned about the yard for weeks after that just longing for a glimpse of you, but you were never there. Paul was, though . . .'
Both of them fell silent, and then Gray said huskily, 'I remember that afternoon; the feel of you in my arms, the knowledge that I wanted you. I kept out of your way deliberately. You were seventeen, Steph,' he told her roughly, seeing the pain in her eyes. 'The thoughts I was having about you were almost criminal. I told myself I'd have to wait until you'd grown up a little, but Paul. ..
After the two of you got married, I told myself I had to forget you, but I couldn't. When Paul died I told myself I was getting a second chance, but you wouldn't let me get near you. I thought it was because you loved him so much.'
Stephanie shook her head. 'I never loved him—not really, but I couldn't bear to tell anyone the truth. It took the fear of losing you to someone else to make me face up to it.'
'If only I'd known, I would have made you jealous years ago,' Gray teased, 'I could hardly believe it when you accused me of having an affair with Carla, but I seized on it as an excuse to get closer to you, to keep you with me. If I couldn't be your lover, then pretending to be was the next best thing.'
'I've been such a fool,' Stephanie groaned. 'Can you forgive me?'
Gray pretended to consider the matter, a teasing smile curling his mouth as he said judiciously, 'I think I just might, providing . . .'
'Providing what?'
'Providing you wear that peach ballgown for me the night we get married.'
Stephanie stared at him. Tiny laughter lines creased round his eyes as he fought to control his grin.
'You liked it that much ?' she asked still confused.
'Umm. Well, actually,' he confessed outrageously, drawing her closer to him, 'what I liked was what you were wearing underneath it.'
He laughed softly and dodged out -of the way of her soft fists as they landed against his arm, and despite the pink flush of embarrassment mantling her skin, Stephanie couldn't help laughing a little herself.
She and Paul had never shared anything like this, and as though he was aware of how overwhelmed she was feeling by the reality of knowing that he loved her, the laughter faded from his eyes and he said roughly, 'God, Steph, I love you so much.' His fingertips traced the shape of her face. 'Right now there's nothing I want more than to take you to bed and stake my claim on you in the most intimate way there is.'
His words only echoed what she herself was feeling. She had come so close to losing him. She made a small, yielding movement and saw his eyes darken, but he shook his head and pushed her gently away.
'No .. .we're going to do this properly. We're going to ring your folks and give them the good news, then we're going out to dinner to celebrate our engagement, and then you're going to move in with Carla and Alex until we, get married.'
He saw her face and groaned huskily. 'It won't be for very long—three weeks, no more. I want to court you the way I would have done if Paul hadn't beaten me to it,' he said softly. 'I want to take you out to show you off.' He shook his head and grimaced. 'Does any of this make any
sense?'
'All of it,' she told him softly. 'But something tells me it's going to be a very, very long three weeks.'
She felt him smiling as he kissed her, and when eventually he released her he said teasingly, 'Not for me. Every night I'll be dreaming of you wearing that peach dress.'
She wore it to get married in, with the discreet addition of some pretty net veiling to make it less revealing.
She hadn't told Gray, and as he turned round to watch her walking down the aisle on her father's arm she saw his eyes widen.
Her own laughed back at him as they shared their private knowledge. They were spending their honeymoon in a private villa on a small island in the Aegean where they could sail, swim and snorkel in perfect clear seas; but tonight after the ceremony, they would be going back to the cottage, and the look in Gray's eyes as they burned over her told her how much he was looking forward to the moment when they would be alone. As she was herself.
She turned to face the vicar and the service began. Her heart swelled with love and gratitude. Gray turned to look at her, the love she felt for him mirrored in his eyes.
As the vicar spoke sonorously she saw Gray mouth silently, 'I love you,' and she was filled with a sense of homecoming and peace.