by Nicola West
Linzi gazed at her, appalled by the change in the pretty Welsh features, now distorted by jealousy and rage. Guiltily, she realised that this outburst was at least partly her own fault; she'd led Ceri along, allowed her to believe that there could be something between her and Jason. Yet had that made so very much difference? Ceri had made up her mind about her the moment, they'd met. Nothing Linzi could have said or done would have altered that. Or—she blushed at the thought—altered the fact that Ceri was quite right about what had happened in the chapel.
'Look,' she said, 'I don't know what you're getting so upset about, but there's really no need. Jason and I have been all through that scene, years ago. It didn't work then and it wouldn't work now, even if we both wanted it to—and I can assure you neither of us does. What happened in the chapel this afternoon was just as you say—opportunity. And it's not going to happen again. I've got my own life to lead and I don't need complications like Jason Carver in it.'
Ceri's eyes narrowed. Whether she believed her Or not, Linzi couldn't tell, and the way she was feeling now she didn't really care.
'All right, then,' the Welsh girl said, her voice silky. 'So you won't mind going back to London, will you? Straightaway.'
Linzi stared at her. 'Of course I can't! There's the figure—Jason needs ‑'
'Jason doesn't need you! Look, until a couple of weeks ago I was going to be the model for that figure, or didn't you know that? It was going to be a great thing for me— it would have helped my career and I'd have had all the time in the world to work on Jason too. And then he got this other idea and nothing would do but he had to have you. How do you think I felt about that? And then you arrive and Jason's too busy to see me or anyone else, yet he seems to have plenty of time to take you for walks in the hills ‑'
'That was the first time!' Linzi interrupted. 'And it wasn't arranged, I'd set out on my own.'
'So he followed you.' Ceri's eyes flashed with temper and her full bosom heaved. 'And don't say you haven't been encouraging him—I've seen the way you've been looking at him tonight. And at me—if looks could kill I'd have vanished in a puff of smoke.'
'You're imagining it ‑'
'Oh, no, I'm not! I don't know who you're trying to convince, Linzi Berwick, maybe it's yourself, but it certainly isn't me. I can recognise that look in another girl's eyes. You've got your rich banker—but you're still going to make a play for the successful sculptor. Well, I'll tell you this—it's not going to work. I'll do everything I can to make sure of that. You might just as well do as I suggested, Miss Berwick—go straight back to 'London. Because if you stay here, you're going to find things getting very, very uncomfortable.'
'Oh, don't be so ridiculous!' Linzi snapped, her patience at an end. 'I'm not making a play for Jason, and I'm certainly not going back to London. Not until the job's finished, anyway. And I really don't see what you think you can do about that!'
'No?' Ceri stood up and picked up her velvet evening bag. 'Well, we'll have to see, won't we? I don't think I'll wait for Jason to come back. You can tell him I had to go—see if you can explain that away,, for a start.' She paused, looking down at Linzi, and her pretty, sweet face was twisted with spite. 'You'll be sorry, you know. I'm not just a little local girl, after all—I've got contacts. And I shan't hesitate to use them!'
Linzi turned away, too sickened to answer. How could Jason be taken in by this pretty little virago? But then he had probably never seen this side of Ceri, she mused as the other girl slammed out of the room. He would have seen only her sweetness and gaiety. And she hoped fervently that Ceri never would get her way. Even Jason Carver didn't deserve that!
The door opened and Jason came in, looking round in surprise to find her alone.
'What's happened?' he asked. 'Has Ceri gone? I thought I heard a car—didn't she realise' I was coming back?'
'Oh, she realised,' Linzi said dully. 'She just—got tired of the company, I think.'
He stared at her his eyes narrowing. 'What do you mean by that? What happened between you two?' With a single stride he was beside her, his hands on her arms. 'Tell me, damn you—what have you been saying to her?'
'Nothing!' Linzi twisted violently, but his fingers only tightened on her. 'Jason, let me go!'
'Nothing? The lines on his face deepened in disbelief. 'Don't give me that! Ceri would never have gone off like that if she hadn't been provoked—and provoked beyond tolerance. She's one of the sweetest-natured girls I know, and if you've hurt her ‑'
'I hurt her?' Linzi gasped. 'Jason, you don't know what you're saying. Your sweet, charming Ceri can more than look after herself, believe me. She knows exactly what she wants and she goes all out to get it. You never told me she wanted to model for you for this figure.'
'There was no need! It was never a serious proposition. Oh, I considered it, yes—but Ceri just wasn't right for what I had in mind. She understood that.' He dropped his hands and his eyes searched hers. 'Linzi, if you're out to make trouble, I warn you it's not going to work. What is it with you anyway? Jealousy?' His anger was growing as he spoke and Linzi stared up at him, frightened by the menace in his eyes. 'My God, Linzi, you just about take the biscuit. I can see now I was wrong about you all those years ago. I thought you'd get over your flightiness once you'd got a man of your own—thought you'd be happy enough then to let other girls have a chance. But you haven't changed, have you? You still want everything in trousers. You've got your man, you've got your nice expensive meal-ticket all lined up, but even that isn't good enough for you.' His hands came down to her arms and jerked her roughly to her feet. 'Let him get a nice safe distance across the Channel and off you go again. Oh, don't think I haven't seen you giving Hugh the eye -- even young Alun isn't beneath you, is he? And as for me—well, I thank God on my knees that Ceri and her father came along when they did this afternoon, or there's no knowing what might have happened. And to think I read some genuine feeling into your response!'
'Jason, it's not like that!' He was holding her close, his breath quick and warm on her cheeks, and she felt the thunder of her heart increasing intolerably. 'Let me go! Jason, please!'
'Let you go?' he muttered thickly. 'Why in hell should I? Don't you deserve to be taught a lesson? Don't you realise you've been driving me wild ever since the first moment you stepped through that door? And all these years when I've had only photographs to go by? Let you go? You have to be joking! I tried to hold back, telling myself you were engaged to another man, kidding myself you were a virgin still—but I was wrong, wasn't I? You've been playing the field for years—giving other men what you wouldn't give me.' His powerful arms lifted her easily, swinging her through the. door, and as he mounted the stairs his voice went on, low and husky, distorted by anger and desire. 'So you've been around,' he mocked, throwing back at her the words she'd flung at him that afternoon. 'You don't expect men to have honourable intentions.' He kicked open the door to her bedroom. 'You won't expect me to have them then, will you!'
'Jason!' she gasped, thoroughly frightened now. 'Jason, listen—Jason, I beg you, don't ‑' But her words stopped abruptly as Jason flung her on to the bed and crushed his whole weight down on her. His lips found hers, cruelly demanding, with none of the tenderness she had experienced before, forcing her mouth open, his teeth bruising her lips. Frantically, she wriggled under his body, but her movements only seemed to incite him further and he groaned as his hands gripped her waist and moved up over her breasts. Fumblingly, he raised her from the bed and felt for the long back zip, dragging it down so that he could pull the soft material down to her waist. The bra seemed to disappear almost of its own volition, and as he stared at the fullness of her breasts and then buried his face in them, Linzi knew that she had no more strength to protest. The chemistry was working again, whether or not she wanted it to; and she whimpered softly as she let her own arms slide round his body and ran her fingers through the black, silver-dusted hair.
'Jason,' she whispered. 'Jason—oh, Jason. . . .'
The harshness had gone from his lips and his hands. Tenderly they moved over her, caressing, exploring, bringing to her soaring heart a delight that was greater than any yet. Beneath their expertise she felt herself grow limp, her movements languorous, her body stiffening only a little when his fingers ventured more intimately, until at last Jason raised himself and stared down at her, his eyes almost black and his brows contracting.
'Linzi,' he murmured. 'Linzi, what's happening to us? I brought you up here meaning to give you the lesson of your life, and instead—I've never known anything like it. What's going on?' He watched her as she moved under him, barely conscious of anything but the pulsing demands of her body. 'You look—scared. Are you, cariad? Are you frightened of me? You've no need to be, I swear it.'
Linzi let her tawny eyes, darkened now to a velvet brown, meet his. At this moment she knew that he could if he chose read the truth, the truth that was in her heart and that until now she had not admitted even to herself. And that other truth—the truth that she had to tell him.
'Yes,' she whispered, 'I am frightened—just a little. You see—this is my first time. I—I let you think there'd been others, but it's not true. I—I've never slept with a man before, Jason.'
For a long moment he held her eyes, his. own widening with shock. He let his glance move down her body—past the slender neck, over the smooth shoulders, lingering on the full rounded breasts. Then, very gently, he drew the soft green material up to cover her. He bent and kissed her bemused eyes with a softness that was the complete opposite from his harsh treatment of her only a few minutes earlier, then he stood up from the bed.
Linzi blinked up at him, bewildered, but he smiled as he shook his head at her.
'You ought to be more careful what you tell people,' he said softly. 'You nearly had yourself some real trouble there.... Linzi, we're going to have to talk this out, but first we both need time to think. Look, I have to go away tomorrow—only down to Newport about the foundry work, but it means staying overnight. It'll do us good to be apart for a while, get ourselves sorted out—but when I come back, we'll have that talk, all right?' His finger traced a pattern on her cheek. 'You won't go running away in the meantime?'
'I won't run away,' Linzi promised in a whisper, and he nodded.
'I'll leave you now, then.' For a moment he hesitated, his eyes dark with longing. 'I want to kiss you again, Linzi,' he muttered, 'but I don't think I trust myself—oh, what the hell. .. .' And she clung to him as his black hair fell across her face and his lips sought hers. Her blood leapt; she wanted to keep him with her, tell him it didn't matter that she was a virgin, that she'd been waiting for just this moment—but almost before she had time to think, he had wrenched himself out of her arms and was a yard away, his hand on the door. He ran a trembling hand through the wild hair, closed his eyes deliberately to shut her out—and was gone.
And although Linzi lay awake for most of the night, acutely aware that he was only yards away down the passage, he did not come back.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jason had left by the time Linzi got up next morning. He had set off early, Hugh told her, in the hope that he might be able to get through his discussions by that evening and come straight home. Linzi nodded. She would go down to Crickhowell, she decided, and get the clothes that Jason had told her were necessary for walking in the mountains—waterproofs, a small rucksack to carry them in, and a pair of boots. Then she would be ready to take Bracken for his walk this afternoon.
'That's a good idea,' Hugh approved'. 'You'll be all right with Bracken. Keep to the tracks, though. That dog can go for miles and he may think you're just as keen!'
Linzi laughed and promised to be careful. She stretched lazily, gazing up the valley as she drank her coffee. It was rather nice to have a day's holiday—although, rather to her surprise, she found herself missing Jason and wondering already just when he would get back.
She had slept only fitfully last night, waking several times convinced that she could feel Jason's arms around her, his kisses on her lips. She still felt bemused by the change in his attitude. He had been so furious with her— so angry on Ceri's behalf. After the quarrel with the Welsh girl, Linzi had been shaken and upset, but Jason hadn't even noticed—had blamed her outright, without even, wondering what the truth might be, convinced at the outset that the trouble must have been caused by Linzi. And then it had seemed that his control had snapped, all the frustration of years had been unleashed and that nothing could have saved her from the inevitable outcome. At that moment, as Jason carried her up the stairs and flung her roughly on to her bed, Linzi had felt a terror she had never before experienced. Oh, she had wanted Jason, she had to admit that—as up there in the chapel she had wanted him with an urgency that had transcended anything she had ever felt before. For, in spite of her vows never to get deeply involved with any man, Linzi had had her share of admirers, and her share of kisses too. Plenty of men had wanted to go further— but desire had never taken hold of Linzi as it had when she was in Jason's arms.
Her fear of Jason last night had been because of the way in which he was about to take her. His own furious anger and determination to teach her a lesson, coupled with his belief that she was already experienced, had led him to handle her with a violence he hadn't shown before. And Linzi had known that if ever she and Jason were to come together, it mustn't be this way. Between them sex had to be more than just a physical encounter. It had to be the expression of love.
Love, It was the first time Linzi had allowed that word to enter her thoughts of Jason. She sat quite still, letting the idea float through her mind. Did she love Jason? There had been a time, years ago, when she had thought she did. But that had been mere puppy-love, she could see that now. She had been right not to trust it, right to retreat from marriage.
And now? Was it really love that she felt, this singing of the blood whenever Jason was near, this instant response to his touch? Was it love that set her trembling when he let his sapphire eyes move over her in appreciation of her body, or search her own with that strange, compelling question in their brilliant depths? Was it love that weakened all her resolves when she was in his arms, so that the whole world faded and all that mattered was Jason, his hardness and throbbing desire and the longing that rose within her to match his own? Or was it, as she had told herself yesterday, merely chemistry? Merely a desire for physical satisfaction, a brief fulfilment, an assuagement of a biological need.
And if that were so, would she have had this feeling that love should—must—accompany any experience they shared? Wouldn't she just have gone ahead and enjoyed what Jason had to give?
There was no escaping the answer. Reluctantly, she had to admit it—she had fallen in love with Jason Carver. Some time during the past few days—some time as they shared their meals or sat listening to the music they both loved, or perhaps as they worked together in the studio— she had, without even realising it, grown to love him. And now it was too late to retract. Her feelings were irrevocable.
Restlessly, Linzi got up from the table and walked to the end of the terrace, laying her hand on the great slab of marble that stood there. The surface was smooth, polished; smoothed and polished by the same hands that had caressed her last night, the same fingers that had held her so cruelly before they had relaxed into tenderness.
Linzi thought again of that tenderness, so unexpected after the violent anger Jason had shown only moments before. What had changed him? Why had his harshness melted, his movements ceased to be deliberately painful and become gentle instead? Was it because he too was aware of the chemistry between them, the reaction of skin against skin that brought delight in place of anger, sweetness instead of bitterness? Was there a chance—even a faint one—that love might be growing in him too?
His words had seemed to imply that there could be. But Linzi hardly dared hope that they might. Couldn't they also mean that he could no longer take the risk of keeping her in his house? With an engagement of his
own in the offing—and Linzi remembered with a stab the looks that had passed between him and Ceri—he could hardly want to take the risk of upsetting things. He had already accused her of hurting Ceri, never dreaming that it might be the other way about. It was quite possible that he meant to terminate her contract when he returned—send her back to London, unwanted, and forget all about her.
Linzi let her head droop so that her forehead rested against the cool marble. Her thoughts were too confused now to make any sense at all. She just didn't know what might be in Jason's mind. All she knew was that he was firmly ensconced in her heart—always had been, perhaps. Maybe she had been loving him, deep down, all these years. And that was why she had sworn never to marry. Why she had never let any man come near her; why she had never before known the shattering effect of desire.
She Was awakened from her thoughts by Hugh, who appeared through the patio door to tell her that there was a telephone call for her.
'A phone call?' Her heart leapt. 'Is it Jason?'
'No.' Hugh looked curiously at her. 'It's from Vienna.'
'Vienna!' It must be Richard. He must have travelled overnight to have reached there so quickly. She hurried indoors and through to the hall, picking up the receiver with trembling fingers.
'Richard? Is that you? Is everything all right?'
'Yes, of course.' He sounded impatient. 'Linzi, there's something I want to say to you.... Are you listening?'
'Yes.' Bewilderment showed in her voice; what could Richard have to say so urgently? 'But ‑'