Elusive Lover

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Elusive Lover Page 10

by Carole Mortimer


  She drew in an angry breath. ‘God, you lousy, rotten, stinking——!’ Her words were cut off as Josh pulled her to him, parting her lips with his own. She was too angry to respond, pounding at his chest with her fists.

  ‘Hey,’ he held her away from him. ‘It was only a joke——’

  ‘A joke!’ she snorted. ‘Oh yes, very funny!’ She wrenched away from him, her eyes sparkling like jewels. ‘I’m almost crippled for life and you did it for a joke! And you can stop laughing!’ She stamped her foot furiously, and the ache in her knee protested at such treatment. ‘I could have fallen off,’ she accused. ‘I could have been hurt, and you did it for a joke!’ Her voice rose hysterically, her fears very real.

  Josh looked unimpressed. ‘You were in no danger——’

  ‘No danger?’ she repeated in a loud voice. ‘I was absolutely terrified, and you say there was no danger!’

  ‘Erin——’

  ‘Don’t you “Erin” me!’ She shook off his hand on her arm. ‘I think you’re the lowest, most contemptible creep I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. Lower even than Mike Johnston!’ came her parting shot as she marched off into the house.

  Josh made no effort to follow her, which was perhaps as well, she would probably have hit him if he had said another word to her.

  He had done it on purpose, had made her suffer the torture of sitting on that horse for almost two hours when he had known all the time that she had never ridden before. She could have been killed, could have—— But she knew she exaggerated. Blaize had been the gentlest of horses, completely docile.

  But, heavens, she ached! And that was Josh’s fault.

  She was slumped down on the bed when the knock sounded on the door. ‘What do you want?’ she asked crossly, and sat up straight, determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of Josh.

  His expression was bland as he opened the door. ‘I want to get to work,’ he told her abruptly.

  She stood up, moving stiffly. ‘Then you’ll have to wait. I smell of horses, I want to have a bath.’

  ‘Make it a shower,’ he said tersely. ‘I want to get started this morning.’

  ‘I haven’t said I’ll definitely do it yet,’ she reminded him tautly.

  ‘You will. I’ll be upstairs when you’re ready.’ He closed the door forcefully as he left.

  He was so damned sure of himself! And what was he so angry about? She was the one who had been made to look a fool. But his anger had put her on the defensive, so much so that she was determined to thwart him.

  She had never realised what a pungent smell horses had, but the smell seemed to be clinging to her clothes, and while it wasn’t an unpleasant odour, it wasn’t exactly pleasant either. Oh, damn Joshua Hawke, she would have her bath if she wanted one. She had told him he could wait, and that was exactly what he could do.

  The water was deliciously refreshing, coloured lightly blue by the bath-salts she had found in the bathroom cabinet. They had a flowery aroma, so they didn’t belong to Josh. Sharon’s name instantly sprang to mind.

  Just how close had Josh been to the other woman? And why had she committed suicide? No one had told her that. Could it be that her love for two men had been too much for her?

  Both men were attractive in their own way, although to her mind Josh came out in front. Had Sharon thought so too, and been afraid to tell Dave so only a month before their wedding?

  But surely suicide was a drastic step to take for such a predicament? She considered suicide a strong step to take in any situation.

  Sharon had been lucky, she didn’t just love two men, she had two men who loved her in return. Surely the situation could have been resolved without such a drastic— and to Erin’s mind, wasteful—conclusion.

  The bathroom door suddenly swung open with a crash, and Josh stood dark and dangerous in the doorway. ‘I thought I told you not to take a bath,’ he rasped.

  Her hands moved to cover her breasts, not even having any bubbles on top of the water to hide her nakedness. Not that Josh seemed concerned with that; he stood there looking at her dispassionately.

  ‘Get out of here!’ she ordered indignantly, two high spots of colour in her cheeks.

  ‘I’ll go when I’m good and ready.’ He came to stand at the side of the bath. ‘Now when I tell you I want to work, that’s exactly what I want to do,’ he ground out. ‘And I don’t like to be kept waiting.’

  ‘I told you I was having a bath. You——’

  ‘And I told you that you didn’t have the time for one.’ He wrenched her chin up so that she had no choice but to look at him. ‘Now you get your butt out of that bath and up to my studio, pronto.’ His fingers bit into the softness of her skin before he let her go. ‘You understand?’ he said curtly.

  He was good and mad, much angrier than she had been minutes earlier. ‘I—I understand,’ she nodded nervously.

  His mouth twisted. ‘If you aren’t up in the studio in five minutes I’ll come and get you.’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ she assured him hastily.

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ he drawled before leaving.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FOR the first time in days Erin felt genuinely hungry—and she knew she daren’t even take the time to get herself a slice of toast. Josh had been pretty emphatic, and she knew he meant every word.

  She hurriedly towelled herself dry, donning a light blue cotton sun-top and matching shorts. The sun was already quite hot, and would probably be even more so up in the studio, where the roof seemed to consist mainly of windows, providing plenty of natural light for Josh to work by.

  He had a fresh canvas set up on the easel when she entered the room, and a sheet of royal-blue velvet was draped across a sofa a few feet in front of him.

  Erin stood nervously just inside the door, waiting for him to notice her, his attention seemingly inwards.

  Suddenly he turned, his gaze impersonal as it flickered over her. ‘I’m ready for you now,’ he said curtly.

  She licked her lips. ‘I—Where shall I undress?’

  He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t really matter. Anywhere.’

  ‘I—er—Don’t you have a screen or something?’

  ‘Nope. I’ve never needed one before. My first nude, remember,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Yes.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘I—I’ll get undressed over here, shall I?’ She moved behind a chair that stood at the back of him.

  ‘Anywhere,’ he said tersely. ‘Just hurry up and do it.’

  ‘There’s no need to be nasty,’ she choked, slipping out of the cotton shorts, leaving her black lacy briefs on for the moment. ‘It may be your first nude,’ she muttered, pulling off the sun-top to reveal the black bra that matched the briefs, ‘but this is the first time I’ve posed in the nude too!’ ‘Just get on with it, Erin,’ he sighed.

  She hesitated about removing any more clothing. ‘Could I keep my bra and briefs on?’ she pleaded.

  He turned to look at her, impatience etched into his hard features. ‘Get them off, Erin. And quickly, before I come over there and do it for you.’

  ‘All right,’ she snapped. ‘But I think I hate you.’

  ‘Is that supposed to bother me?’ He pulled up a chair, putting it next to the easel before sitting on it, a sketch-pad in his hands.

  She flung her bra down on the chair with the rest of her clothing, sure that she was blushing all over her body. ‘I don’t just think I hate you, I know I do.’ God, she had never felt so—so naked before!

  ‘Over to the couch, Erin,’ Josh instructed curtly. ‘Today I’ll just be deciding on a pose and doing some sketches. We’ll get down to some actual painting tomorrow.’

  ‘Posing’ turned out to be the most humiliating experience of her life. Josh moved her into every conceivable position, touching each part of her body as if she were no more than an inanimate piece of clay.

  And maybe to him she was! But she had never been touched like this, not even when he had been making love t
o her. And his criticism of her was even harder to bear.

  ‘Don’t droop your shoulders like that,’ he instructed once. Or, ‘Arch your legs, Erin, they look slimmer that way.’ As if she had fat legs! And then there was, ‘Don’t bend your head in that way, it gives you a double chin.’

  ‘Is there anything about my body you do like?’ she finally asked crossly.

  ‘You have good skin, nice breasts, and fine bones,’ he returned absently, debating whether or not to have her hair forward on her shoulders or pulled back to show her features. He left it loose on her shoulders, stepping back to study the effect.

  ‘Fine bones!’ Erin exploded.

  ‘Yes—Don’t move!’ he snapped impatiently. ‘I’ve spent half an hour getting you in the right position.’

  Had it only been half an hour? It had seemed like a lifetime! Her nudity seemed to mean nothing to Josh, and after a while it had come to mean nothing to her either. But she didn't like being just the owner of good skin, nice breasts, and fine bones! She was a person, not an object, and she wouldn't put up with this insulting behaviour a minute longer. Even the pose he had finally settled on was degrading, having her kneeling on the floor on the blue velvet cover, her arms outstretched as if longing for someone to love her. The painting might be going to be titled Innocence, but the pose seemed to say she wouldn't be that for much longer.

  She stood up, moving silently to the chair to begin putting her clothes back on.

  Josh watched her with narrowed eyes. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Guess!’ she snapped, her clothes giving her confidence once again.

  ‘We have some sketches to do.’

  ‘I've had enough——’

  ‘Enough of what?’ he rasped.

  She shrugged. ‘Enough of this, enough of you, enough of——’

  ‘Degrading yourself? Have you had enough of that, Erin?' he asked tautly.

  She gave him a sharp look. ‘I—You—What are you talking about?’

  ‘I'm talking about you, Erin. I'm talking about the way you agreed to leave town with a complete stranger, how you didn’t even know where you were going, how you agreed to have a sexual relationship with that complete stranger.’ He walked over to her, shaking her angrily by the shoulders. ‘That’s what the hell I’m talking about, Erin! I’m talking about you, and the lack of respect you seem to have for yourself and your body. Do you have any idea of the sort of trouble you could have landed yourself in?’

  She looked down at the dark hair on his chest just visible beneath his unbuttoned shirt, unable to look any higher, physically whipped by his verbal onslaught. ‘You seemed kind——’

  ‘I could have been a raving lunatic for all you know!’ He shook her again. ‘Kind!’ he raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘I seemed kind? When I’d made it clear you would be sharing a bed with me, that I intended making love to you?’

  ‘But you haven’t——’

  ‘No, I haven’t, have I?’ he agreed grimly.

  Erin looked up, searching his harsh features. ‘Was this nude posing another joke, Josh? Like this morning’s amusing little incident?’ She wrenched out of his grasp. ‘Was it, Josh?’

  ‘No, it damn well wasn’t!’ His eyes were like chips of ice. ‘It wasn’t a joke at all, it was meant to bring you back to your senses. If you hadn’t told me I would be the first with you I would have made love to you, do you realise that?’

  ‘I—Yes. But you didn’t.’

  ‘No, because I figured that one of us lacking respect for you was enough,’ he scorned.

  ‘You—you—you bastard!’ Her hand shot out and she struck him hard across one lean cheek.

  She wasn’t prepared for the way Josh’s arm rose as he hit her with the back of his hand, and she staggered back with the force of the blow. Her eyes were wide with pain as she held her throbbing cheek.

  ‘I hate you!’ she choked before running out of the room, for once not nervous of Sheba as she ran past the dog to her room, locking the door behind her.

  She couldn't remember anyone ever hitting her before, not her mother, and certainly not her stepfather. But Josh had seemed to do it without conscious thought, hurting her as much by committing the act as he had by the actual force of the blow.

  She jumped nervously as the door-handle was turned, the door rattling as the lock prevented it from opening.

  ‘Erin! Erin, open the door,’ Josh requested softly.

  She made no answer. She never intended speaking to him again, was going to leave here and she hoped never set eyes on him again.

  ‘Erin!’ he repeated patiently. ‘Let me in, honey.’

  His use of the endearment almost had her giving him an angry retort, but she managed to restrain herself. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of talking to him.

  ‘Would it help if I said I was sorry?’ His question was once again met with silence. ‘I’m just going to make lunch,’ he added enticingly. ‘Want some?’

  Did she! She was feeling really hungry. But she wouldn’t give in. She was glad that she hadn’t unpacked her things, it would save her the trouble of having to repack.

  ‘Sure?’ he coaxed. ‘Bacon and eggs, an Englishman’s— or in this case, woman’s—dream, or so I’m told.’

  Bacon and eggs! Her mouth watered just at the thought of them. But she wouldn’t give in.

  ‘No?’Josh said regretfully. ‘Well, I’ll leave Sheba outside your door in case you feel like company.’ He could be heard instructing the obedient dog to ‘stay’ before his foot-steps went off in the direction of the kitchen.

  Damn him! Was there nothing that man didn’t know about her? He had guessed she intended leaving and had left Sheba outside to make sure she didn’t. Surely he could see they had nothing left to say to one another, that they had both said, and done, too much already?

  Apparently not, and she could hear him whistling tunelessly from the kitchen. The smell of bacon cooking soon wafted over to her side of the house, a torture in itself. Her stomach grumbled protestingly, and she couldn’t blame it, her ride this morning had given her a healthy appetite.

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ she instructed her stomach crossly as it continued to rumble.

  Footsteps could be heard coming down the passageway. ‘Did you say something?’ Josh taunted.

  ‘Oh, go away!’ She forgot her vow of silence in her intense hunger. ‘Go away and leave me alone,’ she snapped.

  ‘I thought you said something . . .’

  ‘Well, I didn’t!’

  ‘Okay.’ The shrug could be heard in his voice, his footsteps returning to the kitchen.

  Erin went over to the window, but any idea of getting out that way was soon shelved. Only the two small bottom windows opened, there was netting on the outside to keep out the insects, and they were only about nine inches square, not big enough to get out of.

  Maybe reading a book would help take her mind off food? She had one in her bag, a book she had bought to read on the flight over here but had never found the time to read. It was an Agatha Christie, a Hercule Poirot story, totally absorbing, and the thought of food did get forgotten for an hour or so. But apparently the murder had taken place at a dinner, and the characters were constantly relating what they had eaten during the meal.

  Erin put the book down with disgust. This wouldn’t do at all! Maybe a nap? She was feeling sleepy after her read, and it would pass a little more time—until she felt it was safe to leave the bedroom without bumping into Josh. She doubted he would approve of her going off on her own again, he was already contemptuous of her behaviour.

  And she had to admit she was too. His cruel words had made her aware of just how foolish she had been. He had been right to accuse her of lack of respect for herself. A little while ago she had been criticising Sharon in her mind for her lack of courage, when all the time she was being just as much of a coward. Oh, she hadn’t gone as far as killing herself, but she had killed her self-respect, had given up.

 
; And Josh had known exactly how she had been feeling. His method of bringing her to her senses might have been cruel, but it had worked. She would never be that stupid again.

  Finally she slept, the lack of sleep from the night before making it impossible for her to do anything else once she lay down on the bed.

  She woke with the feeling she was no longer alone. The smell of coffee seemed to confirm that feeling, and her eyes flickered open to find Josh sitting next to her prone form on the bed.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ he greeted softly.

  ‘Hi—I mean—What are you doing in here?’ she sat up indignantly, and then wished she hadn’t as the movement brought her dangerously close to him. ‘How did you get in here?’

  Josh grinned. ‘I picked the lock. It’s quite easy when you know how.’

  ‘And you obviously know how,’ she derided, swinging her legs to the floor and sitting beside him now. ‘How long have you just been—sitting there?’

  ‘Not long,’ he shrugged. ‘Here,’ he held out the cup of coffee, ‘a peace offering,’ he added coaxingly.

  Erin felt some of the tension finding him here start to leave her. ‘Coffee?’ she taunted.

  ‘Unless you fancy beer or wine?’

  ‘No, thanks!’ she pulled a face.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ He held the cup closer to her. Erin’s lips twitched at his hopeful look. ‘Is it sugared?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then I’ll take it.’ She gratefully accepted the cup of steaming liquid, knowing that a hot drink would quench her thirst much better than a cold one, despite the heat of the day. Her room had grown hot and sticky while she slept, making her feel the same way.

  ‘I think we’re going to have a storm.’ Josh stood up to look out of the window.

  ‘A storm?’ Erin followed him, looking up at the perfectly clear blue sky. She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

  He turned to look down at her. ‘Like to bet on it?’

  He was too sure of himself to be wrong. ‘No,’ she gave a rueful smile, ‘I believe you.’

 

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