'I'd rather like to be alone for a while,' she told him quietly, and was thankful to notice how calm and unruffled she sounded.
'Can't I walk with you?'
The look in his eyes showed that he fully expected her to be in complete accordance with his plans at last, and he stared at her in astonishment when she suddenly laughed aloud. She put her hands up to her face and her eyes glittered with what she would have been the first to admit was mahce. It was, she felt, time the tables were turned.
'You just never give up, do you, CHfford?' she asked, and he shook his head dazedly.
'I don't understand you,' he said, a frown gathering when she went on laughing. 'And for God's sake stop laughing like that!'
'Don't you think it's funny?' she asked.
'No, I damned well don't think it's funny when you stand there laughing like an idiot when I'm trying to talk to you seriously!'
'Seriously?' She still had that curiously disturbing sense of elation, although she could not explain it, and she looked at him inquiringly. 'Were you ever serious about me, Clifford?'
'You know I was,' he protested. 'I still am.'
'But not enough to marry me?' She did not wait for an answer but shook her head and walked on again until he caught up with her and took her arm. 'I'm
remembering,' she said quietly, 'when we were driving down here, how you told me that you and Philip had never thought of yourselves as the marrying kind. I should have realized it was true, and realized that you only suggested that we become engaged when I refused to come down here with you as a casual visitor.'
'All right, I admit it,' he said impatiently. 'I used it as bait to get you to come with me, but surely, darling, a man's allowed a certain amount of - well, lover's licence, isn't he?'
'Is he?' Tara asked, far more casually that she would have believed possible. 'I really thought I was engaged to you, ClifT, and to me that means—'
'Wedding bells!' he jeered. 'Well, I don't think that way, darling. To me it means someone to share your life with, give all your time to, someone you love. Not a piece of paper and a lot of idiots dolled up to the nines for the occasion!'
'Someone you can conveniently forget about when something more interesting comes along?' Tara suggested quietly. 'I'm sorry. Cliff, but I don't think that way.'
'I'd never do that,' he objected. 'I love you.'
T don't think you do,' she argued mildly. 'Oh, you've told me that you do often enough, but if you'd loved me. Cliff, you wouldn't have found the idea of marrying me such an ordeal. I can only think that you just couldn't face the prospect of being tied to me for the rest of your life, and quite frankly I'm grateful to you for speaking out.'
'Grateful?' CMord stared at her uncertainly. 'What
on earth do you mean?'
'That I'm grateful you made me see you as you really are. If you'd been forced into marrying me by Philip and your grandmother I'd have found out too late that I don't really like you very much, Clifford!'
'I see!' His fingers tightened on her arm and there was a cruel tightness about his mouth. 'Well, you had no fear of being married against my will, darling. I'd never have married you, no matter who nagged me!'
'I realize that now,' Tara said. 'I wish I had before.'
'Well, thank heaven we've got that cleared up at last.' He laughed shortly and without humour, his eyes hard and shrewd. Only once before had she seen that look in his eyes and that when they were discussing their plans and she had mentioned her dislike of easy divorce. He had called her a puritan, she remembered. He was eyeing her speculatively and nodding his head. 'I could have got away with it if I hadn't brought you here,' he told her confidently.
'It was a mistake to bring me here,' Tara agreed quietly. 'But it wouldn't have made any difference in the long run. Cliff. My decision would have been the same, here or anywhere else.'
'I see!' His good-looking face had a stubborn, angry look and it was easy to see that he still could not quite beheve that she meant her refusal to be final. 'So you won't change your mind?' Tara shook her head firmly, and his eyes glittered resentment. 'Maybe it was Philip after all, then.'
Tara felt a trickle of warning along her spine and she
looked at him warily. 'Philip?' she asked, and he laughed.
'Yes, Philip,' he told her jeeringly. 'I said you fancied him and you denied it then too, but it's obvious now I was right!'
'Oh, you're being ridiculous!' Tara exclaimed, but her voice was far less steady suddenly and she took a moment to really think about his accusation.
Ever since she came to Fairwinds she had found Philip more than passably attractive, and her own response to him and the desires he aroused in her had appalled her more than once, especially when she felt she should have responded to Clifford in that way, not Philip. Then she had been pretty sure it was ClifTord she wanted to marry, no matter what alternative plans Madame Hautain put forward. Phihp she had thought of as just a dangerously attractive older man with the power to play havoc with her emotions whenever she was momentarily off guard.
It was only now that it was beginning to come clear to her with dizzying certainty that Clifford was right. It was something much more than mere attraction she felt for Philip. He could affect her so deeply because she was falling in love with him.
It was Uttle comfort to realize it at last, for there was almost no hope of his being any more than passing fond of her. Those kisses that had played such havoc with her senses were something that his naturally passionate nature would see as a perfectly legitimate response to a pretty girl and would mean nothing more to him than kissing any other girl in a like situation.
To her dismay she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes and hastily brushed them away with one hand, but not before Clifford had noticed them and stood looking at her uncertainly. She felt very small and lost, and knew she must make haste and leave Fairwinds and its disturbing occupants, the sooner the better.
Clifford reached out to her and would have taken her in his arms, she thought, but she evaded him and ran back towards the house, blindly and instinctively. It was not Clifford's arms that she wanted around her at this moment.
By evening Tara felt a little more composed, but she came down to dinner with the firm intention of announcing her immediate departure, Clifford eyed her speculatively and curiously, as if he wondered what she would do, while Madame Hautain tried several times to catch her eye.
It was an invitation she avoided, and neither did she look at Philip, foi she needed all her self-confidence to do what she had to do without making an utter and complete fool of herself. Her opportunity came as they all rose from the table at the end of the meal, and she stated her intention in a firm, clear voice that left no room for doubt.
'I shall be leaving in the morning, Philip,' she said, and hastily avoided the black eyes when they sought to hold her gaze. 'I - I want you to know that I'm very grateful to you for letting me come here, and I have enjoyed it, despite - everything.'
It was increasingly difficult to control her voice and
there were tears prickling her eyes again. 'I - I know you'll understand my going so suddenly,' she went on, swallowing hard. 'And - and—' She shook her head in despair of finishing without crying. 'Thank you,' she said huskily.
'Tara!'
From the corner of her eye she saw Madame Hau-tain's small, thin hand on Philip's arm, and a moment later she heard his almost inaudible sigh of resignation. 'Yes, of course,' he said, in that quiet, beautiful voice that had been the first thing she found attractive about him.
'If - if you'll excuse me,' she said in a small tight voice, 'I have things to do.'
The stairs were an easy escape route and she hurried across the hall, but Philip's voice followed her, bringing her to a halt at the foot of the stairs. His strong fingers curled over hers where they rested on the balustrade and even now she could feel her whole being stirring into that deep sense of excitement that he always aroused in her.
'I'll take you home,' he said, and Tara looked up swiftly, her eyes wide and hinting at panic when she thought of sharing a journey all the way back to town with him in the intimate proximity of his car.
'No!' she said hastily. 'No, please, Philip - I'd - I'd rather go by train, really!'
He looked at her steadily for a moment and she knew she would weaken if he as much a^ said one word to persuade her. But then he nodded agreement. 'As you like, Tara,' he said quietly. 'But at least I can take you
to the station. What time are you thinking of going?'
Tara held tightly to the balustrade and looked down at the strong brown fingers still curled over hers, wishing she found it easier to face the fact that she would probably never see him again once she left Fairwinds. 'There's a train at half past nine,' she said in a soft, husky voice. 'If that's all right with you.'
He nodded briefly. 'I'll make sure you catch it,' he promised.
Tara glanced at the bedside clock for the hundredth time in a few minutes and put down the book she was trying in vain to get interested in. Her packing was done, and she had soaked for a long time in a hot bath, generously scented with her favourite bath crystals, but still she found it impossible to relax.
She had not gone to bed, for it was still very early and the birds in the garden were only just beginning to whistle their more drowsy-sounding evening songs, but she curled up in the big armchair her room boasted, wearing a pale yellow robe over her nightdress, her hair brushed back from her face and slightly damp from her bath still.
It would have taken very little to make her cry again, but she determined not to as she sat there, her head supported on one hand, propped on the arm of the armchair, a soft, misty glisten in her eyes as she remembered her arrival at Fairwinds.
A soft but insistent tapping on her door roused her from a nostalgic daydream and she stared at the closed door uncertainly for a moment. It was probably
Madame Hautain, concerned for her unhappiness, and she wif)ed an escaping tear from her eye as she called out 'come in'.
'Tara.'
For a moment she stared at Philip in disbelief, then hastily pulled her bare feet under the flimsy robe out of sight. His white shirt threw his darkness into sharp contrast vhere he stood in the shadowed doorway looking across at her, and that slow, black-eyed gaze that could disturb her so easily swept over her slowly, making her breath catch in her throat.
'I'm sorry,' he said softly. 'I didn't realize you were—' An expressive hand conveyed his meaning perfectly, as always, and Tara got to her feet, one hand going to the neck of the robe, the other smoothing the soft material down over her hips. She was shivering as if she was cold, and at the same time glowing with some inner warmth that seemed to emanate from him, even across the width of the big room.
'I'm sorry I'm so - untidy,' she said, in a small, husky voice. 'I've just had a bath.'
'You look beautiful.' His voice trickled along her spine like an icy finger and she tried not to close her eyes and betray the effect it had on her. He said no more for several seconds and Tara still stood there, almost afraid to move.
'You'd - you'd better come right in,' she told him at last, and almost added - 'someone may see you.'
One black brow expressed brief comment on the invitation, but he came right into the room and closed the door carefully and quietly behind him, while
Tara's toes curled sensually into the deep pile of the caqDet as he came closer.
After a searching scrutiny of her face, the black eyes smiled even though the smile barely touched his mouth. 'You're very brave,' he told her softly. 'Aren't you afraid of your—' He shook his head, breaking off in mid-sentence, serious again suddenly. 'I'm sorry, Tara, this isn't the moment to tease you, especially when Clifford's already done quite enough to try and ruin your reputation.' Tara said nothing, but kept her eyes lowered, her right hand still at the neck of the robe, her left trying to still the insistent pounding of her heart. 'Tara - do you want to marry Clifford?'
She looked up swiftly, wide-eyed and startled, and her head was shaking before she even formed the words. 'Oh no, Phihp! No, no, no! I don't want to marry Clifford, I don't think I ever really did. I meant what I said earlier!'
For a moment the black eyes held hers steadily, as if he was still to be convinced, and then he nodded slo^vly, apparently satisfied. 'I'd have seen to it that he married you, if you'd wanted it,' he told her, and with such adamant certainty that she felt Clifford, for all his vowing he would never succumb to persuasion, would have been brought to heel if she had decreed it.
He was closer suddenly, without her even realizing he had moved, and one hand reached out to touch her cheek, its caress hypnotic in its effect. 'I'm glad you don't,' he said softly, and Tara turned her mouth to the caressing palm, her lips barely brushing it. It was an instinctive gesture and one she found hard to attribute
to herself.
'PhiUp, I-'
'I've sneaked in here against all advice,' he told her softly. 'But I had to talk to you.'
Tara, suddenly sure she was not making a mistake, looked up at the dark face with its glowing black eyes and smiled. 'I'm glad you did,' she said huskily, and Philip's hands slid down to her waist and pulled her close against him, the warmth of his body enfolding her in a glow of excitement that made the same, familiar attack on her senses.
There was nothing to do but yield to the urgent need to be close to him, for her whole body was aroused by those now familiar longings and desires he could always stir into being. One long finger traced the full softness of her mouth and his gaze was fixed there with that same intent look that his grandmother had remarked on.
'I don't want to be here alone again,' he said softly. 'I can't face Fairwinds when it's silent and empty again. Tara - stay with me.'
For one wild moment she beheved he was offering much the same arrangement that Clifford had proposed, but then she realized that, even if he did, she would stay with him, no matter on what terms he wanted her. 'For company?' she suggested softly, and for a second his black eyes glittered.
'Would you stay?' he challenged.
Tara studied him for a long moment, her dark eyes huge and shining. 'Yes,' she admitted softly, 'I'd stay.'
He said nothing, but his strong hands pulled her closer into the circle of his arms and they held her so tight against the lean warmth of his body that she felt every muscle straining her closer. His mouth had a fierceness she had never known before, even when he had kissed her unexpectedly, and she responded with an abandon that would have shocked her had she even thought about it.
'I mean to have you,' he whispered against her mouth. 'And I mean to marry you. I won't leave it to chance that you might run off to Paris after all.'
'Philip!'
'I mean it, my darling.'
'That you'll marry me?' Tara asked, her head back so that she could see the dark, shadowed face and those glistening black eyes that now had such a fierce warmth in their depths that she shivered with anticipation.
'That I'll marry you,' he told her. 'You won't refuse me, will you, my darling?'
His breath was warm on her mouth and the hard urgency of his body roused desires in her that set her senses reeling. She parted the buttons of his shirt and slid her hands on to the broad, tanned chest, spreading her fingers over the strong, steadily beating heart.
'I can't refuse you,' she whispered softly. 'I love you.'
'I love you,' the softly spoken words were like an echo of her own, and his mouth sought hers again with a fierce and hungry urgency.
She lifted her arms and clasped them round his neck,
her fingers curled in his dark hair, warmly responsive as she always was to Philip's kisses. Not knowing or caring what Clifford would have said if he had seen them at that moment. His reaction was something that would have to be faced at some time later.
Philip was all that mattered at this moment. His mouth kissing her neck and throat, parting the flimsy robe to press his lips to t
he soft, warm, scented skin of her shoulders, his warm, exciting vibrance as passionate in his desire for her as hers was for him.
And yet, despite the searing depth of his emotions, it was Philip, yet again, who brought her back to normality, his voice deeper and slightly husky as he took a handful of her dark hair and pulled back her head, his eyes deep and glowing.
'You're too much of a temptation, my sweetheart,' he said throatily. 'I shall have to send you home until I can marry you, and that will be as soon as I can arrange it.' He kissed her lightly on her mouth, and smiled down at her. 'You can wear that lovely gown of Grand'mere's after all,' he said softly.
Tara looked at him through the thickness of her lashes, her look unconsciously provocative. 'Grand'mere Hautain asked me to marry you some time ago,' she said, and Philip smiled, as if he knew all about it, a fact that did not altogether surprise her.
'And you refused,' he accused her.
'Only because I thought you wouldn't like what she had in store for you,' Tara told him.
'Little idiot!' His mouth teased her lips apart and he kissed her with a slow persuasiveness that was even
more evocative than the fierceness of before. 'How else am I to make sure of Hautain and Sons staying in business? I chose you the minute you walked in with Cliilord, but I had to give you time to get him out of your system.'
'Philip!'
'I love you,' Philip said softly, and gave her no more opportunity to question his methods. Not that she really cared.
Mills & Boon's Paperbacks
APRIL
UNWANTED BRIDE by Anne Hampson
Caryn and Sham had made a marriage of convenience and she hadn't seen him since the wedding. Now she needed his help - but would he be willing to give it?
FAIRWINDS by Rebecca Stratton
Tara was sure she loved her fianc6 Clifford. So why did she find his
brother Philip so intriguing?
THE RED PLAINS OF JOUNIMA by Dorothy Cork 'Skye Bannerman's an ogre,' someone had told Pippa - and she quite agreed. But perhaps he had a more attractive personality to show to die sophisticated Angela Glas.
Fairwinds Page 14