The Smouldering Flame

by Anne Mather

  ‘Shannon——’ she began, but he shook his head silently, his manner violent and impatient.

  Then, almost against his will, she thought, he reached out and unzipped her parka, a controlled, yet savage, gesture, that brought a gasp of surprise from her lips. His hands went inside the opened jacket, closing on her hips and drawing her irrevocably towards him. She yielded against him willingly, her thighs intimately moulded to his, able to feel every hardening muscle of his taut body.

  And still he didn’t speak, he just held her there, the long lashes narrowing his eyes to slits. Then his hands slid behind her back, under the woollen jersey she was wearing, seeking the warm softness of her skin. The movement brought her closer, and he bent his head and trailed his lips along the side of her neck.

  ‘Oh, Joanna,’ he muttered wearily, his face tormented. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come back here. But, dear God! why shouldn’t I have something to remember …’

  And with a muffled groan, his mouth took possession of hers with an urgency that sent the blood pounding madly through her head. For Joanna, who until recently had believed herself capable of controlling her feelings, it was a devastating assault on her emotions, and she was hardly aware of anything in those few moments but a desire to satisfy his needs and her own. His mouth devoured hers, parting her lips, filling her with the scent and feel of his masculinity, setting her senses clamouring. His hands moved caressingly over her back, arousing sensual sensations she had not even known existed inside her, weakening her legs and making her ache with the longing for something she had never before experienced.

  ‘Does Philip Lawson touch you like this?’ he demanded, in a strangled tone, and then, before she could speak, shook his head derisively. ‘No—don’t answer that. I have no right to ask.’

  ‘You do, you do,’ she protested, her hands sliding up his chest to his face, touching his lips and probing the hollows of his ears. ‘You must know, no one has ever been this close to me. Oh, Shannon, you love me, don’t you? Say you do! I don’t care about anything else. I just want to hear you say it!’

  Her words seemed to bring him to his senses, but it was with obvious reluctance that he pushed her away from him, his face twisting almost in self-disgust as he reached for the zip of his parka.

  ‘Don’t ask me that, Joanna!’ he told her harshly. ‘I can’t answer you. I have no right to involve you in my miserable existence.’

  ‘But I want to be involved! Shannon——’ The pain of his words was that much more shocking because she had been unprepared for it. ‘You—you said we were not related. Why shouldn’t you tell me you love me?’

  ‘Perhaps—because I don’t,’ he answered cruelly, and then relented when he saw the stricken spasm that crossed her face. ‘Oh, God, all right, Joanna—I love you. But it’s no use. It never was, and it never will be. You might as well be my sister for all the good I can do you.’

  Joanna gasped. ‘I—I don’t believe that. If we’re not related——’

  ‘There are other considerations,’ he muttered, straightening away from the pillar. ‘And I’ve already said too much.’

  ‘You can’t mean that. I have to know about us, Shannon. How—how are we not—not related?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘But you must!’

  ‘There’s no “must” about it. We’ve had these moments, Joanna. Without fear of retribution. But that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’

  Joanna spread her hands frustratedly. ‘But why? Why? Surely I have a right to know who—who our parents are.’

  Shannon raked a hand through his hair. ‘Leave it, Joanna.’

  ‘I—I’ll ask Daddy.’

  ‘Do you want to kill him?’ Shannon was coldly matter-of-fact.

  ‘I don’t understand …’

  ‘Your father’s a proud man, Joanna. How do you think he’ll feel if you tell him you have doubts about your relationship? He’s far from recovered. Can you take the risk that might push him over the brink?’

  ‘Then—then Mummy——’

  ‘Your mother knows nothing.’ Shannon shrugged. ‘And I doubt you’d get the truth from your father. It’s old history, Joanna. Best forgotten.’

  ‘How can you say that?’

  Shannon’s mouth tightened. ‘I’ve been saying it for ten years, Joanna!’ He turned away. ‘Oh, come on! Let’s get back to the Rover. I’m frozen now.’

  He walked away and Joanna stared after him disbelievingly. She didn’t know what to think. Those moments in Shannon’s arms had made coherent thought difficult, and while she had to accept what he said, it was hard to believe that it made no difference to him. How could he say he loved her in one breath and then deny any chance of a future together in another? And how could they not be related? If her mother knew nothing about it? It didn’t make sense.

  Seated in the Range Rover, she kept strictly to her own side of the vehicle, ignoring the attempts he made to restore their association to its former footing by talking about the weather and the state of the roads. She was bewildered and confused, her emotions bruised and vulnerable, but as she sat there, one thing became clear to her: if her mother knew nothing about the situation, Shannon must not be her father’s son. That was the only solution. But how could that be? Maxwell Carne had not divorced his first wife until Shannon was almost six years old. Knowing the kind of man her father was, she knew with insight that if he had known Shannon was not his son, he would have done something about it before then. Unless he had not known …

  They were bouncing over the frozen ruts in the road, and Shannon needed all his concentration to keep the Range Rover from skidding. Looking sideways at him, Joanna felt a hopeless sense of longing. She loved him so much, it was incredible to think that for ten years she had been waiting for this. And now it was to be taken away from her again. She could not allow that to happen.

  ‘Who was your father, Shannon?’ she asked softly, and was rewarded by the angry glance he cast in her direction. ‘I’m not an idiot, Shannon,’ she went on steadily. ‘I do have powers of calculation. It stands to reason that if my mother’s not involved, yours must be.’

  Shannon stood on the brakes, bringing the heavy vehicle to a halt in the cleared entry to the track of a farmhouse. Then he turned sideways in his seat towards her, but his expression was not encouraging.

  ‘All right,’ he said, through tight lips. ‘Having gone so far, I realise I must go further. But what I’m about to tell you will make no difference to our relationship, do you understand?’

  Joanna pressed her knees together, but she made no comment, and he flung himself back in his seat, reaching moodily for the cheroots he occasionally smoked.

  ‘You’ll have guessed that my mother was pregnant before she married your father,’ he told her bitterly. ‘Naturally, Maxwell Carne had no idea, and Jacqueline took good care he didn’t suspect …’ He paused to light the long narrow cigar he had placed between his teeth. ‘And of course, when I was born, he was delighted. He had wanted a son, and I was strong and healthy. Exactly the kind of child to satisfy his ego. And Jacqueline allowed that—for a while.’

  ‘She told him?’ Joanna was horrified.

  ‘Ultimately. But not before she had some other man lined up. Then, when your father refused to divorce her, she explained the facts of life.’

  ‘Oh, Shannon!’

  He inhaled deeply on his cheroot. ‘It’s a common enough story, at least today it is. In those days, it was rather less publicised.’

  ‘So—so did she want to take you away with her?’

  Shannon’s laugh was short and mirthless. ‘Oh, God, no! What would Jacqueline want with a kid not yet into the schoolroom? No, she just wanted her freedom, so she threatened to tell everyone that I was not Maxwell’s child. You can imagine the reaction.’

  Joanna nodded, filled with compassion for the child he had been, the innocent scapegoat for his mother’s faults.

  He sighed. ‘Of course, I knew not
hing about it then. I knew my mother was unhappy—discontented. That she had terrible rows with the man I believed to be my father. I had no idea why.’ He wound down his window and flicked ash outside. ‘Anyway, eventually pride got the better of Maxwell Carne. It was better to be the innocent party to a divorce case than the outraged parent of a bastard child!’

  ‘Shannon, you’re not a—a——’

  ‘Go on, say it. I’ve heard it used against me many times since then.’

  ‘From—from Daddy?’

  Shannon bent his head. ‘Forget it.’ He exhaled a cloud of tobacco smoke. ‘Afterwards, as you know, Maxwell married your mother. I didn’t really notice any difference in his attitude to me. I missed my mother for a while, but we had never been really close, she saw to that, and your mother was very kind to me. Then you were born.’

  Joanna watched him anxiously. ‘Did that make a difference?’

  ‘Not immediately. I think your father was disappointed you weren’t a boy. But he expected better next time. Unfortunately, as you know, there was no next time.’

  Joanna shook her head. ‘So how did you find out?’

  Shannon hunched his shoulders. ‘Can’t you just take it that I did?’

  ‘Please.’

  He moved restlessly, his thigh brushing hers. ‘I guess I was about sixteen at the time. You were eight—and—well, your father became jealous of our relationship.’ He paused, obviously finding this a painful recollection. ‘You were quite a precocious infant, and we used to spend a lot of time together.’

  ‘I know. I remember.’

  ‘Yes, well—if you remember, I taught you to swim, in the river. We used to go swimming quite a lot, and the day your father came on us, I was endeavouring to teach you artificial respiration.’ His face twisted into a grimace. ‘God knows what he thought we were doing!’ He took a deep breath. ‘He sent you back to the house, said something about your mother, looking for you. Then he—took his belt to me.’

  ‘Oh, Shannon!’

  Shannon’s nostrils thinned. ‘Don’t look like that. I could stand it. It was what he said that sickened me.’

  Joanna nodded. ‘And then?’

  He shrugged. ‘You could say that everything went on as before. And to a certain extent it did. But I had changed—not least, towards you.’

  ‘But you went away!’ she cried.

  ‘Eventually, yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  Shannon sounded bitterly amused. ‘Need you ask?’

  ‘But why could you—why couldn’t we——?’

  ‘Once I knew I was not your father’s son, I took an aversion to everything that reminded me of him. Until then, I had intended going to agricultural college, learning to manage the estate. But instead, as you know, I took engineering as my subject.’

  ‘Even so …’

  ‘When I came back from university, I went to see your father and told him my feelings for you.’ His fists clenched. ‘God, he practically went insane! We had a terrible row.’ He licked his lips. ‘He told me there was no earthly chance of our ever meaning anything to one another, that he’d kill me before he allowed the truth of what Jacqueline had done to get out. As I keep telling you, Joanna, your father’s pride is an overwhelming thing. He meant what he said. And you were only a kid. How could I be sure you’d grow up to feel the same way I did? And I owed your father everything. I knew I had no right to ask you to choose between us.’

  ‘But you did!’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head.

  ‘But Daddy wants you to have the estate now.’

  ‘I know. And I don’t want it.’

  Joanna moved her head in a confused gesture. ‘Why is he so eager?’ She paused. ‘That’s why you said he didn’t have to buy your silence. Do you think that’s what he’s trying to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe coming so close to death made him realise his own mortality. Who would take over if anything happened to him? Who would care for your mother? He knew she couldn’t take care of herself, that I wouldn’t desert her. She was always kind to me.’

  ‘And she really doesn’t know that you’re—that you’re not——’

  ‘—your father’s offspring? No. No one does, I’ve told you. He swore he’d kill me if I breathed a word to a living soul. And now I’ve told you.’

  Joanna’s lips trembled. ‘I made you.’

  Shannon shook his head. ‘No, you didn’t. You’re not to blame. I was selfish enough to want something to remember for the rest of my life.’ His eyes sought hers. ‘You gave me that, at least.’

  ‘Shannon, I want to give you everything!’ she breathed.

  ‘No.’ He swung abruptly round in his seat, squashing out the remains of his cheroot in the ashtray before turning the ignition. ‘If you do anything to alter the situation, I shall leave immediately. I mean that. Your father may have his faults, but he was not to blame for what my mother did——’

  ‘Nor were you!’

  ‘That’s as maybe. It’s fruitless to argue about who’s to blame. The facts of the matter are these—to all intents and purposes, we are half-brother and sister. To attempt to change any of that would succeed where that stroke your father had did not. I’ve spoken to his doctor. With reasonable care, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t live for many more years. Can you take that away from him? Can you build your own life on the destruction of another’s?’

  ‘That’s not fair!’

  Shannon made a harsh sound in his throat. ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’

  Joanna pressed her palms together. ‘But there has to be something we can do!’

  ‘No, Joanna.’ He swung the heavy vehicle back on to the road, switching on the sidelights as the gloom of late afternoon cast shadows across the way ahead.

  ‘But I can’t marry—Philip. Not now!’

  Shannon’s fingers tightened on the wheel. ‘That’s for you to decide. Don’t talk to me about it. It’s not my concern.’

  Joanna caught her breath back on a sob. ‘You really don’t care, do you? You’re so—so cool!’

  Shannon uttered an oath, his foot increasing its pressure on the accelerater. ‘Oh, yes,’ he muttered savagely, ‘I’m cool, aren’t I? So cool that I can’t even contemplate the idea of you marrying anyone, let alone that—that—Philip!’

  ‘What—what about you? What does that woman—Camilla—mean to you?’

  ‘Camilla?’ Shannon’s smile was bitter. ‘Camilla restored my faith in human nature, do you know that? She gave me sanity, when all around me had gone mad!’

  ‘You—care for her?’

  He glanced sideways at her. ‘I care about her. She’s had a raw deal, too. She and her brother came up from the Transvaal with me and Brad.’ He braked for a bend. ‘We were all misfits together.’

  Joanna looked down at her hands. ‘Will you—when you get back to Kwyana, will you——’

  She couldn’t finish, and Shannon ground his teeth together, swinging the car off the road so violently that they almost overturned in the ditch. Then he reached for her, dragging her roughly into his arms, and covering her mouth with his own. If anything, it was more demanding than before, and Joanna moaned beneath the probing possession of his hands.

  ‘You see what’s going to happen if I stay here?’ he muttered into her neck. ‘I want you already, and God help me, I don’t know how long I can prevent myself from taking what you’re offering.’ Her parka was unfastened, and his hands slid beneath her sweater, caressing the pointed swell of her breasts. ‘Oh, Joanna, I love you, I love you, but you’ve got to stay away from me—stop tormenting me! You know what you’re doing to me—you can feel it! Don’t you realise, I could make you pregnant! This is madness!’

  ‘Is it?’ she breathed, all glowing woman as she wound her arms around his neck, and his groan of protest was lost in the hunger of his kiss.

  The sound of someone tapping on Shannon’s window made him drag himself away from her, and
she straightened her clothes with trembling fingers while he rolled down the condensation-covered pane.

  ‘Had an accident, have you? Can I help——’ began a voice Joanna recognised only too well. ‘My God, it’s you!’ Ben Lawson spoke contemptuously. ‘I didn’t realise. I didn’t recognise the Rover in the dark.’ He slapped his hand against the bonnet. ‘Well, aren’t you the dark horse?’

  ‘Get out of here, Lawson.’

  Shannon’s voice was cool and controlled, but when he wound his window up again, Ben Lawson’s hand prevented him, and bending, he looked into the car.

  ‘Come on, introduce me to your girl-friend!’ he jibed, but as his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom and he recognised the girl beside the other man, he fell back a step, aghast. ‘My God!’ he gulped. ‘Joanna! Why, you—you filthy little——’

  He would have stumbled back to his Land-Rover parked just behind them then, but before he could regain his balance, Shannon had shot out of the Range Rover and had him by the lapels of his coat.

  ‘You keep a civil tongue in your head, Lawson!’ he snapped savagely, threateningly. ‘And you keep what you’ve seen here to yourself, understand?’

  Ben struggled to free himself, but although he was a broader man, he was not as strong, and Shannon held him without visible effort. Nevertheless, he wasn’t finished yet. ‘How’re you going to make me, Carne?’ he jeered scornfully. ‘I’m not afraid of you!’

  ‘No?’ Shannon tightened his grip so that the hot colour was convulsed in Lawson’s face.

  Joanna was horrified. She slid across the seats, crying: ‘Shannon—you’ll choke him!’ but he ignored her.

  ‘You listen to me, Lawson,’ he told the other man grimly, and Lawson had no choice but to listen, his mouth opening and shutting like a speared fish.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Mrs Lawson’s voice was shrill and panic-stricken, and Joanna sank down in the driving seat, feeling an agony of responsibility for all this. Philip’s mother ran wildly towards her husband and Shannon, grabbing Shannon’s arms and trying to pull him away. ‘Let go of him! You’re mad, can’t you see you’re strangling him?’