Tender Persuasion

by Sara Wood

  For a moment he hovered above her, his face still a little confused and drowsy, his shirt half unbuttoned so that Jade only had to reach her hand a little way to touch the crisp hairs on his chest.

  'God!' he rolled from the bed and sat on the edge, his head in his hands. 'Sorry. I must have dozed off.'

  'You're very tired,' she said hoarsely.

  He rose and stretched his limbs. 'I'm getting old. Anything you want from your house?' he asked lightly.

  'Dane, I feel awful—'

  'I know,' he said gently. 'It must be foul. Talking of fowl, I really must sort out those hens of yours. I'll bring breakfast in a little while.'

  She lay in frustration, wishing her brain and her mouth would obey her and move a bit faster. She'd wanted to apologise properly and thank him properly. She wanted to end the feud between them and see where that led them both. Then she paused. Dane was intelligent enough to have known from her tone that she wasn't complaining about her own condition. He had deliberately chosen to misunderstand what she'd said to avoid any heart to heart with her.

  For some reason he wanted to keep their relationship on a casual, light footing. And the only reason she could think of was that he wanted to be shot of her as soon as possible, and not get involved again.

  After a few days she began to improve. Mrs Love still hadn't returned; Billy had been quite ill and Dane visited her again and blithely assured her that everything was going along fine at the manor.

  The minute that Jade found herself responding too eagerly to Dane's unwittingly sensual bed-baths, she stopped him and said she would manage in future. He seemed relieved not to have the chore any longer, though it took her a long time to wash herself, and the whole process left her exhausted.

  He'd bring her up some tea and thin bread and butter afterwards, and this time he'd added strawberries to coax her appetite.

  'Try some,' he urged. 'You need to eat. I can hardly find you on the bed when I come in nowadays.'

  She smiled and tried a few of the ripe berries, knowing that she must get on her feet soon.

  'I'm so awfully sorry,' she said weakly.

  'What? What for?' he asked in surprise.

  'For being such a nuisance.'

  There was a silence. 'You're a nuisance when you're well, Jade Kendall, not when you're ill,' he said wryly.

  She grinned. 'Swine,' she said gently.

  'It's nice to see your dimple again,' he sighed. 'I thought it had been mumped away.'

  That set Jade giggling till she felt weak. 'You've been very kind,' she said serious again. 'And it's taken a toll. Have you looked in the mirror lately?'

  'I seem to remember something rather horrific staring back at me when I was shaving this morning,' he smiled.

  'You look terrible.'

  'I am terrible,' he said, snarling at her in fun.

  'Be serious! I'm trying to say—'

  'I know,' he said quietly. 'But I had treated you badly. I think I owed you.'

  'Dane—'

  'I think you'd better have words with your glands and tell them to subside,' he said briskly. 'Try to get better fast. Your bees look a bit gloomy. I haven't had time for a chat with them lately. I thought of shoving them on the bar at the Vine each evening, to partake of the local gossip, but the landlord said he didn't allow under-age bees in his pub.'

  'You're mad,' smiled Jade, realising he still didn't want to get bogged down in sensitive discussions. 'How have you coped with the hens?'

  'No trouble. My father had a few thousand, so your lot don't trouble me much.'

  'Oh, yes,' she said, 'he had a farm. Tell me about your family.'

  'Not much to say. I told you they're in the Algarve. They sold up their farm and took early retirement. We've always been close. Soniver and I are, too. Despite our appearances, we feel more at home in the country. So I'm not a City man at heart,' he said, gently chiding.

  'No,' she said. 'I don't think you are. Dane… can I ask you a personal question?'

  'Depends.' He seemed to be holding his breath.

  'What happened for your marriage to break up?' Jade was wondering if he'd been unfaithful. If he had… she must draw back into her shell.

  He went over to the window and stood there, looking out for a long while, before coming back to sit on the bed and hold Jade's hand, staring down at it.

  'She was pregnant. I was delighted. We hadn't planned on children at that stage, because she was a dancer and had just landed a fantastic part in a Broadway musical. To be honest, we didn't see each other that often with all our commitments. Anyway, the pregnancy was an accident and she was furious. The next thing I knew was that she'd had an abortion.' Jade anguished with him, putting up with the bruising grip that was crushing her hand. 'Things went rapidly downhill after that,' he continued in a low voice. 'It was all over the moment she killed our child. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to want her after that. The body is a strange mechanism.'

  'Yes, it is,' she said softly.

  That evening, Dane didn't sit with her as usual. He made an excuse, saying he had to work. She saw little of him over the next few days as she was getting on her feet, and the hours were emptier because of that. His tender concern for her and his uncomplaining hard work had swayed her judgement of him. No man could be that selfless and be a prize bastard. And his confidences about his ex-wife had touched a chord in her heart. He wasn't only concerned with building a business empire, he wanted children too, and had been devastated when his wife had denied him their child, judging by his choking voice.

  Her resistance to him was on increasingly weak ground—yet their physical relationship was over. Like the purple trumpet of the Morning Glory flower, it had been short-lived: blossoming with exuberance and then fading. He disliked her. Perhaps hated her. Only his huge capacity for helping anyone who was weaker, vulnerable, or in need of comfort, had made him look after her. But, as he had said, when she was completely well again she would be her usual thorn in his side.

  She had slept during the late afternoon, bored and lonely, and couldn't settle that night. Feeling restless and tired of being cooped up in the bedroom, she quietly drew on her long, flowing kimono, which her parents had once bought her. The pale blue silk felt cool on her naked body as she fastened it with its wide sash. She tiptoed downstairs to the conservatory, knowing it would be warm from the day's sun. The tiles made her bare feet icy, though, and she slipped into a big basket chair, curling up in it like a lithe cat. The robe fell open and she saw how thin her thighs were. Frowning, she opened the top of the kimono a little, afraid that her breasts had suffered.

  'God, Jade!'

  She gave a little scream and clutched at the sides of the chair.

  'Sorry.' Dane was half hidden under the Stephanotis, whose strong scent pervaded the whole room.

  'You startled me,' she breathed, mesmerised by his hypnotically sensual eyes.

  'You sure as hell startled me,' he muttered, raking her body avidly.

  'I couldn't sleep,' she explained in a croak.

  'Really?'

  His tone was disbelieving. 'It's true,' she protested.

  'So you walked down here, chose the exact same place as I did by accident, arranged yourself seductively in the chair and began to bare your breasts!' he said savagely.

  With an angry gesture, he reached for a bottle and poured himself a stiff drink. Whisky, thought Jade. He's been drinking.

  'Didn't you come down to seduce me?' he asked.

  'No! I didn't know you were here,' she said, covering herself up quickly. 'I—I when I sat down, I happened to notice how much weight I'd lost. That's why I… looked.' It sounded unlikely, even to her ears.

  'Afraid you'd lost your sexy curves?' he sneered.

  'I don't want to talk to you while you're like this,' she said, rising.

  His arm snaked out and caught her wrist. Jade didn't struggle, she knew she was too weak, and he was inflamed with some kind of angry passion and the whisky. She stood, as cold
as an iceberg.

  'Frigid again. I burn for you and you go tight. Why can't you feel the same way about me as you did about your late husband?' he growled.

  'Dane! Don't!' she moaned. 'Let's not talk about it.'

  'I want to,' he said, pulling her on to his knee. 'I want you to tell me about him.'

  'No!'

  His fingers were running up the silk, tracing the line of each breast, and she was powerless to stop him. Then he opened the front of the kimono and his hungry mouth fastened on her breast, feasting. Jade's eyes closed and her hands came up to cradle his head.

  Then he was covering her up again and pushing her off his lap as if he despised her. She felt as if she'd been slapped violently in the face. Every part of her body was crying out for him; with a few swift and expert moves, he had reduced her defences to nothing. But he was well able to stop, even when he'd had a couple of glasses of whisky to loosen his inhibitions.

  'I hate you!' she cried, half believing it. 'I hate you!'

  Her dash upstairs to the bedroom went unchecked. She didn't even need to have locked the door. Dane didn't bother her. In the morning he had gone, leaving a note to say that she could stay till she felt better, but he would be in London for a while and she'd have to ask Charlie to feed the animals.

  Weak and vulnerable, her head aching from trying to work out why she still persisted in wanting and loving Dane, Jade lay gloomily on the bed for hours. It seemed they had both closed the door on one another with a terrifying finality.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The tiny church of Saxonbury was packed for the Harvest Festival. Tier upon tier of fruit, vegetables and flowers had been arranged in every available space, and the air was filled with the smell of the produce. Mrs Love laid her masterpiece in the centre of the display before the altar. It was a massive golden wheatsheaf, baked in crusty bread.

  There was a space next to Jade, who wiggled along a little to make room for Mrs Love's broad hips.

  'Mr King's back,' she whispered. 'So he will read the Lesson, after all.'

  Jade gave a weak smile, waiting for Dane to come by and take up his position in the manor pew which was opposite the choir stalls and ran at an angle to the congregation's pews. When he arrived, she couldn't prevent herself from staring wistfully, absorbing everything about him.

  He looked unwell, but it suited him in an odd kind of way. He wore one of his impeccably tailored suits: charcoal-grey with a gossamer-fine white stripe, hugging his wide shoulders and deep chest and flaring subtly at the double vents. His shirt, a blinding white, showed deep cuffs at the wrists and large gold cuff-links, which picked up the colours of his favourite gold tie and handkerchief.

  His long fingers flicked over the pages of his hymn book as he searched for the first hymn. Jade was riveted by his expression His sky-blue eyes had lifted to the pillar above the lectern, where a board announced the numbers, and she had been shocked at how dead his eyes looked, as if nothing was behind them: no emotion, no feeling, no life. And his face was thinner than she remembered and less bronzed, the bones of his cheeks gleaming in the guttering candlelight which lit his pew and which cast deep shadows in the hollows of his face.

  They rose to sing. His dark head bent, his dark brows frowned. It seemed that he was only murmuring the words. As the joyous notes rang out, sung with enormous gusto by the packed congregation, he seemed to falter and then stopped singing altogether.

  A lump filled Jade's throat and she, too, was unable to continue.

  'All right, dear?' asked Mrs Love.

  Jade nodded, pointing to her throat as though she was still having trouble from the after-effects of mumps. The ordeal was over. She could sit down and let her trembling legs recover.

  Dane put down his book and strode to the pulpit and began to read the Lesson. His deep, velvety voice rang out strongly, capturing everyone with its passion and sincerity. Jade wanted to cry. He looked so heartwrenchingly lonely up there, distant and withdrawn, and yet she knew him so well. She admired him more than anyone she had ever known and she would love him all her life.

  To hold back the tears, she turned her gaze away towards the narrow Norman window at one side and watched the pigeons flying down to feed on the stubble. The rest of the service continued and Jade had never felt the intensity of life so much before as she stood in that little church, with Dane so near and yet so far. The final hymn rose to the rafters as the villagers sang exuberantly and the organist pulled all the stops out on the organ to swell the church with sound.

  Blurred by tears, Jade kept her head down and slipped past Mrs Love and through the small side door, unwilling to become involved in the invitations which would be generously given by villagers who continued the celebration with harvest suppers. She wanted to be alone. To hell with her tidy saffron silk dress, she'd climb the oak tree and let the beauty of the early autumn evening drift over her and calm her jangled nerves. 'Jade.'

  Her hand flew to her breast in despair. Not now, not while she felt so vulnerable! She pretended not to hear and walked on, climbing the stile and walking along the footpath to the oaks with rapid steps. He was following her. She reached the tree and touched its rough bark with desperate fingers, knowing that he was bearing down on her. As his footsteps neared, she whirled around, flattening herself defensively against the tree.

  Her black hair feathered out in the breeze, which caught the bright saffron skirt and lifted it gently around her tanned legs. Her face was dark in the shadow of the tree, her eyes and teeth between her parted lips a glistening white.

  'About your book, Jade,' he said, his face devoid of expression.

  Her body sagged in relief. Then she smiled wryly. He hadn't greeted her properly, or observed the normal conventions usually followed by people who hadn't seen each other for a while. It appeared he wanted to come straight to the point so he could go.

  'I'm not using the library any more,' she said, 'if that's what's worrying you. I've finished the book. It's being typed.'

  'Who?'

  She frowned, wondering what it had to do with him. 'An agency in Lewes.'

  'Do you have an agent? Have you approached publishers? I never did ask whether you were writing on spec, or had already been commissioned on the strength of a couple of chapters.' 'You were never interested,' she said lightly. That had hurt a little. 'It seemed unwise for me to get involved professionally with you,' he said quietly. 'It was unwise to get involved unprofessionally,' she said, tipping up her chin.

  'Answer the question,' he grated.

  She was riled by his impatience to get away once he'd completed his business, whatever that was.

  'I haven't approached anyone yet. This was such a far cry from anything I'd done before, I didn't know how long it would take and didn't want to be chained by some deadline.'

  'I have an agent for you,' he said.

  'Well—' She wasn't sure she wanted any favours.

  'He's very good. Harriet says your book has an easy style that will make it popular with the general public—and the sketches are delightful. Naturally I don't want to handle it—'

  'Naturally.'

  He glared. 'This man will see that the book receives publicity and the maximum sales possible.'

  'I'm not worried about the money,' she said slowly. 'I have enough to live on, but…'

  'You'd like more people to know about their heritage, and for strangers to get more out of visits to the area,' he suggested.

  Dane King was too perceptive by far! Jade regarded him doubtfully.

  'I'm not sure.'

  'You wouldn't lose anything by trying him. Here's his card—give him a ring and mention my name. Ask if he'd be willing to see the typescript. He may even refuse.'

  Jade bristled as she took the card, at the idea of a refusal. It was her best work so far! Then she saw that Dane's eyes were gleaming. He'd said that on purpose! The man was a positively accomplished manipulator!

  'Thank you,' she said, determined to send the book off to th
e man as soon as possible. She'd prove to Dane that her work was good enough to be accepted.

  Hoping he'd go now, she waited by the oak. But he continued to look at her, an inscrutable expression on his face, and Jade began to feel uncomfortable.

  'Well, if that's all,' she said, 'I want to be alone.'

  Her tongue slicked over dry lips and his face became as black as thunder. Tightening her mouth, she turned and, disregarding him completely, kicked off her smart peep-toe shoes and reached up to the first branch. Before she could haul herself up, though, his hands had grasped her waist and she gasped at the way they encompassed it, making her feel intensely feminine as his warmth burned fiercely through the thin silk.

  'I have to talk to you,' he said hoarsely.

  She pulled away, to escape his bone-melting touch, and his hands slid over her hips as she moved upwards. Then he had let her go and, with trembling limbs, she made her way on and up, over the great branches and into the smooth fork, knowing that her dress had been ruined in the impulsive climb, but shakingly aware that it had been essential to get away from Dane.

  She looked down on his upturned face, set in anger, and then lifted her head and fixed her eyes on the gentle beauty of the valley in all its autumn richness. The view was framed by the oak tree's branches, silhouetted against the pinkening sky of the sunset, the evening light shining right through the yellow, gold and brown leaves so their fine veins showed clearly. Jade relaxed.

  Then she heard him coming up after her and realised she would be trapped. It made her feel furious that he wouldn't leave her alone, but had to hound her like this. What was he going to do? Twist the knife by telling her they must keep their distance, that he didn't want anything to do with her and he hoped she'd realise that? His head appeared by her thigh, his eyes baleful. 'You've torn your dress,' he said.

  'I don't care,' she answered sullenly. 'Can't you see I'll do anything to get away from you? You don't have to worry that I'll follow you down the lane and make sheep's eyes. I've got over my stupid passion. It must have been sex starvation, as you said.'