by Anne Mather
‘You can get some coffee back at the hotel,’ he stated bleakly, and summoned the startled waiter who had served them.
Outside, Joanna did feel slightly unsteady in the night air. But Cole’s expression forbade any attempt to use his arm for support, and when the taxi came she collapsed gratefully into the back.
Cole gave the driver his instructions, and then joined her on the back seat. But his mouth was scornful in the half-light. ‘You really are smashed, aren’t you?’ he declared, shaking his head. ‘My God! And I thought we might have a serious conversation.’
Joanna turned her head towards him, her dark hair falling sensuously over one shoulder. ‘What about?’ she asked silkily, sweeping it back again. ‘The fact that you still want me?’
Cole swore, and turned his head away. ‘You wish,’ he snarled, clenching his fists. ‘God, why did I ever agree to this pointless exercise?’
‘Because Daddy asked you to,’ retorted Joanna shortly. ‘And you always do everything Daddy says, don’t you? You’re Daddy’s blue-eyed boy. Even if it means sacrificing other people in the process!’
Cole’s jaw clamped. ‘Shut up!’
‘Why?’ Joanna felt fairly safe in baiting him, with the comfortingly broad shoulders of the Bahamian taxi driver firmly in view. ‘You don’t like to hear the truth, Cole. In fact, you don’t hear anything but what Daddy says. I’m surprised you ever learned how to have sex with a woman! Or was Daddy in on that, too——?’
Cole moved then, covering the space between them in one swift lunge. His hand closed about her throat, cutting off her words with unexpected violence, and his eyes glittered dangerously in the twilight world of the cab.
‘Shut up,’ he commanded again. ‘Shut the hell up!’ And then, as her eyes fought with his, and terror gripped her stomach, he uttered a muffled oath and brought his mouth down on hers.
As kisses went, it wasn’t pleasant. With Cole’s hand practically cutting off the air to her windpipe, Joanna could hardly have been expected to enjoy it. On top of that, despite the lightness of his hair, and the fact that he had probably shaved before coming out, Cole’s chin was abrasively male. And as his mouth ground against her teeth, all Joanna could think of was how abused she was going to look when he let go of her.
But something happened when he kissed her. Although his original intention had been to hurt and humiliate her, that melding of their mouths seduced his reason. A groan of anguish rumbled in his throat, and he tore his mouth from hers, only to return again with an urgent imprecation.
And when he did so, his fingers relaxed, releasing her throat from his throttling grasp. Instead of bruising her flesh, they became achingly gentle, smoothing the tortured skin with a sensuous caress.
Now, Joanna felt as if her breathing had been suspended. Her chest rose and fell with the tumult of her emotions, but she didn’t seem to be getting any oxygen into her lungs. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the car, and her senses swam dizzily beneath his searching touch.
Cole’s kiss became hungry, and fiercely demanding. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, and she let it have its way. That hot, wet invader was disturbingly familiar, and her tongue twined around it, helpless to resist. There was nothing gentle about him now, but his demands inspired a matching need. Her legs splayed, her head dipped low against the squabs, and when his hand slid inside the neckline of her dress and touched her breasts she felt her arousal, clear down to her thighs.
The cab, braking outside the brilliantly lit foyer of the Coral Bay Hotel, brought Cole, belatedly, to his senses. With a groan of anguish he pushed himself up and away from her, but not before the smirking taxi driver had glimpsed what had been going on.
Joanna struggled up with rather less energy. She was still bemused by the upheaval of her senses, and it was difficult to think coherently, when her body was dewy with perspiration. Her hair was mussed about her shoulders, and even in the semi-gloom of the cab she guessed her swollen lips had not gone unremarked. And even Cole made a point of buttoning his jacket as he got out of the car.
She knew why, thought Joanna tensely, stumbling out after him. Standing on the floodlit forecourt, she wet her bruised lips with a soothing tongue. Cole had been as aroused as she was. She had felt the heavy heat of his manhood against her stomach, its throbbing tumescence straining at the zip of his trousers. Known, too, that Cole’s self-control had been slipping. He had wanted her; she knew it. And if they hadn’t been interrupted …
‘Let’s get inside.’
Cole’s hand at her elbow, and his harsh impersonal tone brought her swiftly back to earth. With a gesture that was barely civil, he escorted her inside the hotel. Then, after accompanying her to the bank of elevators, he inclined his head and released her.
But, when he would have walked away, Joanna caught his arm. ‘Where are you going?’
Cole’s eyes flickered over her flushed face, which still bore the signs of his assault, but there was no compassion in his gaze. ‘I need a drink,’ he replied, removing her hand from his sleeve. ‘Go to bed. You’re a mess!’
Joanna winced at his callous choice of words, but she didn’t let him see he had hurt her. ‘And if I am?’ she taunted. ‘Whose fault is that? What’s the matter, Cole? Don’t you like seeing the proof of your weakness?’
‘Damn you,’ he said, but she guessed his choice of epithet was for other ears than her own. If they had been alone, he would not have been so polite. She could think of other—four-letter—words he had used with less provocation. ‘I don’t want to see you again,’ he added, his mouth curling contemptuously. ‘I’ll be leaving in the morning. If you have any sense, you’ll stay out of my way till then.’
Joanna held up her head. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘If that’s what you want.’ And afterwards she bitterly regretted the need to thwart him that had taken over her already battered ego. ‘But don’t you think you ought to tell me what time we’re leaving? I’ve got to pack and pay my bill. And I’d like to phone Grace, and my parents, just to let them know what I’m doing.’
In her room, some time later, Joanna was still appalled at the predicament her impulsive tongue had got her into. My God, she thought, as if she couldn’t just have been grateful that Cole was leaving, without achieving what he had come here to do! He had already been as mad as hell. She knew that. He would have liked nothing better than to slam his fist into her face for the crazy way he had acted in the taxi. But no. Just because he had chosen to vent some of his spleen on her, she had retaliated in the most asinine way imaginable. She had actually agreed to do the very thing she had sworn she would never do: go back to Tidewater.
She was so stupid, she groaned now, flinging off the satin sheath, and marching into the bathroom. She had got her way, and she had fluffed it. She had completely screwed up. Instead of waving Cole a mocking farewell, she had agreed to go with him. She couldn’t back out now without losing all her credibility.
And, although Cole had been incensed by her announcement tonight, that had only been his knee-jerk reaction. Sooner or later, he was going to realise exactly what it meant. He had got his own way, without any further effort on his part.
A cold shower later, Joanna was still in no state to try and get some sleep. Besides, she supposed she ought to make some attempt at her packing. Although Cole had refused to discuss his travel arrangements with her, a swift call to the hotel concierge had elicited the information that the Charleston flight left at eleven-thirty the next morning. That meant leaving for the airport soon after nine, which would leave her very little time for organising her affairs. Of course, what the concierge had not been able to tell her was whether there were any seats available on the flight. The airline offices were closed for the night, so that would have to wait. But, one way or another, she was committed to making the effort. And if the flight was full, there would be others.
Groaning, she flopped down on to the side of her bed, hitching up the towel, which was her only cover
ing. She needed to talk to somebody, she thought unhappily. Preferably, someone who wouldn’t tell her she was all kinds of an idiot for getting herself into this mess. There only was one person: Grace.
Picking up the phone, she dialled for an outside line, and when the dial tone came through she punched in Grace’s London number. It seemed to ring forever, and she was on the point of replacing the receiver when Grace picked up the phone.
‘Yes?’ she said, and there was a lazily peeved edge to her voice. ‘Who’s there?’
‘Me. Jo. Joanna,’ she responded uncharitably. ‘Where were you?’
‘Try bed,’ retorted Grace shortly. And then, ‘Jo, do you have any idea what time it is here?’
‘Oh, lord!’ Joanna pushed back her damp hair with a guilty hand. ‘Oh, hell, Grace, I’m sorry. I never thought——’
‘Obviously.’ But Grace’s impatience was giving way to anxiety now. ‘So, what is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Oh, Grace!’ Joanna sighed. ‘Look, it’s not that important. I’ll talk to you tomorrow——’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Grace said something in a muffled aside—to Ray, Joanna suspected, feeling even worse—and then continued forcefully, ‘Come on, Jo. Spit it out. It’s Cole, isn’t it? What’s happened? Has he been threatening you?’
If only, thought Joanna ruefully, flinging herself back on the bed. His threats she could deal with. It was his frustration she found so appealing.
‘No,’ she replied now, examining the fingernails of one hand, in an effort to sustain normality. ‘No, he hasn’t been threatening me, Grace.’ She paused, and then added painfully, ‘I’ve said I’ll go with him.’
‘To Tidewater?’
Grace was evidently astounded, and Joanna couldn’t blame her after what she had said. But, ‘Yes,’ she agreed, finding it no easier to cope with now than she had earlier. ‘So tell me how I can get out of it, without looking a complete idiot.’
‘But, Jo, you said——’
‘I know what I said, Grace. But—well, Cole made me mad, and I just said the first thing that came into my head.’
‘That you’d go to Tidewater?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why?’
It was obvious that Grace couldn’t comprehend her reasoning, and without any explanation of the facts Joanna could understand her bewilderment. But how could she tell Grace what had happened in the taxi? How could she explain what Cole had done? In retrospect, it all seemed slightly incredible anyway, even to her.
‘He—said something,’ she mumbled now, half wishing she had never made this call. But she hadn’t known that Ray Marsden would still be there. From what Grace had told her in the past, she had assumed their relationship was still fairly perfunctory. But, if Ray was sleeping at the gallery …
‘Something rather important, by the sound of it,’ Grace put in drily, when Joanna said nothing more. ‘I take it you’ve not had second thoughts?’
‘About his father?’ Joanna’s lips tightened. ‘No.’
‘I see.’ Grace sounded troubled. And then, to her companion, ‘Tea? Oh, yes, darling, that would be lovely.’
Joanna pushed herself up again. ‘I’d better go——’
‘You’d better not.’ Grace snorted. ‘OK. Ray’s gone to get us some tea, bless him. So, why don’t you tell me what this is really all about?’
Joanna caught her breath. ‘I’ve told you——’
‘That you’re going back with Cole? Yes, I know. But what did he say, for God’s sake? And why would anything he said persuade you? You seemed so—adamant!’
‘I was. I am.’ Joanna hunched her shoulders. ‘Oh—well, if you must know, he—he made a pass at me.’ A pass? Liar!
‘He made a pass at you?’ Grace was clearly flabbergasted. ‘When? Where?’
Joanna licked her dry lips. ‘He—took me out for dinner.’
‘Last night?’
‘Well, tonight, actually,’ murmured Joanna ruefully. ‘It’s only eleven o’clock here.’
‘Of course.’ Grace gave a resigned sigh. ‘So where is he now?’
‘Where is he?’ Joanna frowned. ‘What do you mean, where is he? He’s in his room, I suppose. Probably fast asleep by now.’
‘Hmm.’ Grace hesitated. ‘Well, I hope you haven’t done anything stupid!’
Joanna blinked. ‘Anything stupid?’ she echoed. ‘Don’t you call agreeing to go back to Tidewater stupid?’
‘You know what I mean, Jo.’
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t.’ Joanna was totally confused. ‘Are we talking at cross purposes here?’
Grace groaned. ‘Jo, what I’m asking is, are you still taking the pill?’
‘The pill?’ For a beat, Grace’s meaning was lost to her. ‘What pill?’
‘The pill,’ exclaimed Grace, not without some impatience. ‘For pity’s sake, Jo, you know what kind of pill I’m talking about.’
‘Oh!’ Joanna felt the hot colour run up her face, and was glad no one else could see it. ‘That pill.’ She swallowed. ‘Well, no, of course not.’
‘Jo!’
Joanna gasped. ‘I haven’t had sex with him, Grace!’ She shook her head. ‘What do you take me for?’
‘Well, thank heavens for that.’ Grace sounded distinctly relieved. ‘When you said——’
‘When I said Cole made a pass at me, I didn’t mean we’d been to bed together.’ Joanna was indignant.
‘So why are you so upset?’
‘I should have thought that was obvious.’
‘Because you’ve said you’ll go with him?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Was that before or after he made a pass at you?’
‘After, of course.’
‘Why, of course?’ Grace sounded sardonic. ‘Jo, if you were upset because Cole—well, because of what he did—why on earth did you tell him you’d go with him?’
‘Because it made him mad!’ retorted Joanna crossly. ‘He—resented the fact that he still—well, that I could still——’
‘I get the picture.’ Grace’s tone was dry. ‘Well, love, I don’t see how you can back out now. Not unless you want Cole to think you’re afraid of him. But, please—be careful. I don’t think you realise how vulnerable you are.’
CHAPTER FIVE
JOANNA had heard Charleston compared to an eighteenth-century Venice, and from the air that description seemed even more apt. With its old but elegant houses, painted white and gleaming in the sun, it had an indomitable air. As it stood on a peninsula, with the sea never far from its back door, it was not surprising that its real heyday had been in the latter years of the eighteenth century, when the great sailing fleets from Europe had followed the trade winds to the Caribbean. Twentieth-century Charleston was rather less successful, but its jumbled streets and ante-bellum colonialism were preserved here as nowhere else.
Not that Joanna knew the city very well. In the early days of their marriage, Cole had shown her the tourists’ view of Charleston, and the military academy, and the curved esplanade, known as the Battery, were fairly familiar to her. But Tidewater Plantation was some distance from the city, and the small town of Beaumaris was their main supplier.
None the less, it had given her her first taste of South Carolina, and she could still remember the heat and the humidity, and the rain, which had come in a bone-chilling deluge. But she hadn’t cared in those days. She was in love with Cole, and she would have lived in the heart of a volcano, if he had asked her to.
How foolish she had been, she thought now, turning her head to look at her antagonist, lounging carelessly in the seat beside her. How naïve! In those days life had seemed so simple, so uncomplicated. She had actually believed in happy-ever-after. But that was before she had met Cole’s family, and realised that, so far as they were concerned, Cole had made a terrible mistake. In marrying her, of course, she appended harshly. Macallisters did not marry outsiders, particularly not women, who had too much to say for themselves.
Joanna sighed. She hadn’t considered she was particularly opinionated before she went to live in Tidewater County. Nor especially revolutionary either, until Ryan Macallister put her straight. Macallisters didn’t mix with the poorer families of the district. They didn’t set up maternity clinics, or treat the plantation workers as social equals. Not openly, anyway. The fact that Ryan Macallister promulgated one policy, and practised another, was what had brought Joanna into open conflict with her father-in-law. And signalled the end of her marriage, she acknowledged bitterly. That … and Nathan’s death …
But she didn’t want to think about Nathan now. The pain of that tragedy, and the ugly lies that had caused it, didn’t hurt her any more. Not a lot, anyway. Time had laid its healing balm over those old wounds, and she would be unwise to test its resistance. It was enough that Cole had proved he was not immune to the past, and it was going to be amusing showing his father exactly how futile his schemes had been.
Or would it? Joanna chewed unhappily at her lower lip. She was not naturally a vindictive woman, and the unwilling memory of why she was here brought its own uncertainty. How could she stand up to a man who was already dying? What crueller retribution could there be? And she still had to find out why he should want to see her. As far as she was aware, they had nothing more to say to one another.
The stewardess’s warning, to take note of the ‘Fasten Seatbelts’ sign, and to extinguish all cigarettes, reminded her of the imminence of their arrival. Checking that her seatbelt was securely in place, Joanna’s eyes briefly locked with Cole’s. But she could read nothing from his expression and, in any case, he looked away. As he had done since this morning, when they had shared a cab to the airport on New Providence. He had made it blatantly obvious that he had decided to remove himself mentally, if not physically, from any contact between them, and, for the time being, Joanna was prepared to let him.
That they were travelling together at all was another matter. Joanna had felt justifiably furious when she woke up that morning, and found the plane reservation that had been pushed under her door. She had not slept particularly well, and, snatching up the folder, she had discovered, to her chagrin, that the booking had been made the previous day. It was galling to think that, even after all she had said, Cole had been so sure of her compliance. As soon as she accepted his dinner invitation, he must have thought it was a foregone conclusion. The only comfort she had was that the evening had not gone exactly as he had planned. He might have got his own way, but at what cost to his self-esteem?