by Неизвестный
‘The tourist ofiice is up there,’ she said, as if to a stranger. ‘They’ll explain where the hospital is. We’ll meet there.' Awkwardly she added, ‘Gran will be pleased to see you.’ He nodded curtly and she gabbled on nervously. ‘Tim works in the Jumping Jack Gift Shop. I suggest you don’t go in there.'
‘I won’t. Not my scene.’ He hesitated. ‘I know this won’t be easy for you, Trish—’
‘It has to be done. I don’t love him. He needs to know so he can get on with his life.'
‘I know that. Don’t be upset.
He touched her arm briefly and then strode away. She watched his vigorous body, the hint of tension in the way he carried himself. With a sigh, she set off up towards the small town. As she approached the gift shop, her pulse began to race. But the shop was empty. After two sharp thumps on the counter bell, Tim emerged from the back, his hair dishevelled, a handkerchief rubbing at his mouth. Just as Trish was about to greet him, his assistant followed. She was from the mainland and had arrived for the summer season. Apparently for some fun. Her lipstick was smeared and her brief top sat slightly askew. Trish stared in amazement.
‘Hi!’ said Tim, flushing to the roots of his ash-blond hair. Trish was struck dumb by his infidelity. Then she remembered that she too had been unfaithful. Under the assistant’s hostile gaze, Trish walked forward and took Tim’s hands in hers.
‘It’s OK,’ she said, feeling suddenly free. ‘I don’t mind. We drifted into our relationship, didn’t we? Have fun—’
‘No!’ he protested. ‘Don’t be like that!’
‘We were never great lovers,’ she said fondly. ‘We’ve always been able to live without each other, haven’t we?
That’s not love.'
‘Maybe not,’ he conceded. ‘No. It’s not.’ He smiled at her. Then his eyes narrowed in concern. ‘Is there someone else?’
She hesitated. It would be easier if she said there was.
‘Someone who claims he’s crazy about me...’ she began wryly.
‘All men are liars, darling,’ drawled the assistant with a cynical sneer. ‘They think about sex every ten seconds. Put a willing bird in front of a guy and we know what’ll happen.’
Trish’s clear eyes met the young woman’s. A chill settled around her heart.
‘Don’t get hurt, Trish,’ Tim said quietly, virtually echoing Adam’s words. She smiled. ‘I’ll try not to,’ she promised, with a lightness she didn’t feel. Adam had the power to break her heart. To hurt her, physically, mentally, emotionally. She knew what miseries her mother had been through because of her father’s lack of fidelity. Adam was bad news and she must get him to pack his bags as soon as possible.
She saw Tim and the woman waiting patiently for her to go. ‘Keep in touch,’ she said affectionately.
‘Will do. Take care,’ Tim said, with a friendly smile. His assistant placed her arm around his waist. He grinned at Trish and she saw him imperceptibly shift his hip against the woman’s.
Trish walked out. The confrontation had been easier than she’d expected. But Tim’s behaviour had shaken her. He hadn’t seemed the type. Solid, unimaginative, reliable... Perhaps, she thought with a sigh, he’d thought the same of her. Who could be trusted where sex was concerned?
Not even her, with her high standards of morality. Certainly not Tim or Adam.
As she walked through Hugh Town, greeting old friends and exchanging pleasantries, she thought how much her life had changed. She wasn’t the same person. Adam had turned her whole world upside down, teaching her things about herself she never knew existed.
She craved sex. Wanted only to be near Adam, to see him, hear his voice. Her face darkened. It wasn’t a feeling she liked and she had to do something to cure herself. When they returned from the hospital, she handed him Louise’s fax. He read it with an expression of growing astonishment.
‘She’s lying!’ he said hoarsely. ‘Trish, you don’t believe this?’
‘It seems rather an elaborate hoax for anyone to make,’
she said, her face set like stone.
His eyes closed in pain. ‘I’ll kill her!’ he muttered. Then he strode towards Trish and gave her a little shake. ‘When did you see this?’
‘You’d gone off to the quay to pick something up,’ she said sullenly.
‘Something that wasn’t there,’ he growled. ‘She set this up! Rang me, put on a false voice and sent me off on a wild-goose chase, hoping you’d be around to hear the fax—’
‘She rang—’
‘I bet she did! How else could she make doubly sure you heard her lies?’ he said, iixing her with his penetrating gaze.
‘I told her what I felt for you. She’s being spiteful. I swear to you I’m telling you the truth! I’m not engaged to Louise. I want to be with you. Dammit, Trish, can’t you see that, in everything I do? The way I look at you, take care of you...’
He stopped, his voice shaking uncontrollably. And she wavered too, seeing how close he was to desperation. He picked up the phone and dialled. ‘Louise,’ he said curtly, his eyes black with anger. ‘Get off my back! Nothing will tear me away from Trish, do you hear? And either you speak to her now and tell her the truth about our engagement, or I’ll sue you for slander and for grossly mismanaging my business, and you’ll not only be broke but you’ll never work in the City again!’ There was a pause while he listened tensely, and then he handed the receiver to Trish. Louise was crying. ‘Please, don’t be upset,’ Trish said unhappily.
‘Upset? You little cow! You took him away! He was mine, mine, do you hear?’ Louise screamed.
Then Trish knew that the relationship was over, that it had been over for a while. For a moment she let Louise rant on, and when she’d admitted that they were no longer engaged Trish put the phone down.
Adam gave a huge intake of breath. ‘I think we should talk. Over dinner. I’ll book it. Excuse me. I’ve got to sort my head out,’ he said huskily, and walked up to his room. Trish sat down and began to think in earnest. So he was free. They could be together. She tried to visualise that and failed. For all his declarations, Adam was totally unsuited for life on Bryher. What would he do? Feed the chickens and help her to bake cookies? He’d die of boredom. They’d be at each other’s throats in two months. Then he’d leave, like her father——who’d been even less of a city man than Adam.
And her heart would break.
But she wanted him. Her hunger was getting in the way of rational thought, undermining every sensible decision she made. He had only to look at her with those sexy eyes and he could do what he liked with her.
Unless... She stopped. Dug her teeth into her lower lip hard. No. She couldn’t. The thought clamoured persistently in her head. Let his desire burn itself out. Seduce him, it whispered enticingly. If that’s all he wants, he’ll go. And you’ll be well shot of him...and with a fabulous week or two to remember.
She was wearing a low—necked white cotton dress with a full skirt and an eye-catching bodice which pushed up her breasts provocatively. He did his best to keep his gaze on his plate of curried prawns and occasionally the view from the hotel dining room across the beach, but it wasn’t easy.
‘You’re very quiet,’ she said, her eyes unnaturally bright. He gave a perfunctory smile, snapped off a piece of spiced garlic popadam and took a great interest in the bird life. ‘Thinking about work,’ he lied, deciding that a few hours battling with a new program he’d been creating might keep his mind off Trish’s glorious body.
She leaned forward. He could smell the delicate fra—
grance drifting from between her breasts, tantalising his nostrils. ‘Is there really a guy on Bryher, waiting for you to defuse his time bomb?’ she asked earnestly.
‘No. But I didn’t lie,’ he said, before she could accuse him of doing so. ‘I only said there could be someone like that here.’
‘So...there’s no reason to keep you here.’
‘Only you. You were my unfinished business.'
&nbs
p; ‘You could leave tomorrow, then.’
‘When I have what I came for.’
She seemed satistied with his response.
He met her warm blue eyes and felt himself drowning. There was something different about her this evening. A special radiance. And... Her mouth curled into a teasing little smile. Adam tensed. That had been pure, sexual promise. What did it matter? a little voice said inside him. Taking her to bed again might solve all your problems. Then came a more reasoned argument, one he’d decided on a while ago. That he’d only remain untouched if he continually ensured his head ruled his heart and body and he kept her at arm’s length till she trusted him and he could trust her. It was like a battle. Mind over matter. Lose command, and go under.
‘If...’ Her fingers toyed with the stem of the wineglass, mesmerising him. Muscles tightened throughout the whole of his body as his wayward mind threw up images of her long, artistic fingers stroking him. ‘If you’re not doing anything in the morning,' she said softly, ‘you won’t mind if I have a lie-in?’
Driven crazy by the rise and fall of her breasts, he shrugged, gave what he hoped was an easy smile, and fixed his gaze on the boats outside which had been pulled up on the springy turf.
All through the meal, she seemed dreamy and slow, her voice ravishingly husky. He hardly knew what he’d eaten, though he was sure the pheasant had been excellent. It appalled him that the only thing he wanted to do was to get her back to the cottage and into bed.
‘You’re scowling,’ she said, touching his hand lightly. ‘I see you’re not interested in your pudding. Shall we go to the lounge for coffee?’
Without waiting for his agreement, she wiped her beautiful mouth with her napkin and made to rise. The habit of a lifetime had him pulling out her chair before he’d reflected on the wisdom of being so near to her. Alarmingly, she turned, a pulsating inch or so away.
‘Lovely meal, Adam. Thank you for suggesting it. I do appreciate someone else’s cooking.’
‘My pleasure,' he murmured, wondering wildly what the diners would think if he caught hold of her curving waist and kissed that succulent pink mouth.
Before he could risk finding out, she turned and swayed through the dining room. Everyone’s eyes were on her and he felt absurdly proud. For a moment, she paused to chat with one of the waitresses she knew and, after she’d introduced him to the witty, amusing Karen, he watched her laughing and joking, her eyes dancing with fun. The whole of Trish’s seductive body was relaxed from the wine and her gestures were fluid and graceful. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
He’d got it bad. But he’d be a fool to make love to her without some kind of commitment on her part. She hadn’t said she loved him. Her doubts were plain to see. No sex till then. Oh, hell!
They helped themselves to coffee and little pastries and sat in blue tartan chairs by small—paned windows, overlooking the lake. Behind it, the sea idled in the evening light, the skyline a hard navy blue.
‘We’ll see the sunset from here,’ Trish murmured, crossing her legs with a heart-stopping exposure of silken thigh.
It occurred to him that the sunset might be a cliché, but at least it meant he didn’t have to stare at her inviting legs. The sunset would be a convenient device to keep his pulses under control.
‘Terrific,’ he said, with a shade too much enthusiasm. Swallows were swooping over the lake, dipping occasionally to the smooth surface. He tried to look as if the scene had captured his attention completely. ‘What’s that bird?’
‘Water rail!’ she cried excitedly. ‘Clever you! Wait...’
Leaning forward, she picked up a pair of binoculars, which had been left by a guest or thoughtful management, and put them to her eyes.
Unobserved, he was able to study her for several seconds. The curl of her dark hair around her tiny ears. The sweet line of her throat. The swell of her honey-coloured, flawless breasts. He could look at her for the rest of his life and not grow tired. For ever and always he’d find delight in that gentle smile, the eager way she sat, like a child awaiting a treat——when all she was seeing was some vaguely rare bird...
‘Adam‘? Adam!’ She laughed when he started, and came over to him, sitting on the edge of the easy chair. ‘I said, Did you want to look‘?’ To his concem, she retained the binoculars around her neck and bent close, intimately so. Ashe reached up to take them, she murmured, "It’s kind of nocturnal. Can you see it?’
He muttered something, conscious only of her body against his. After a brief moment of pretending to look at the wretched bird, he passed the binoculars back.
‘You...you weren’t really interested, were you?’ she said in disappointment, going back to her seat.
He felt a heel. She cared that he should find birdwatching as fascinating as she did. Maybe he would, but not with the kind of competition it was getting tonight!
‘Sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere.’ He gave her an apologetic smile and she seemed content.
That was what he liked about her. She didn’t nag or whine or sulk. In fact she... Desperately, he fought with his emotions. Afraid of being split in two by his feelings, ripped apart by them—
‘What’s the matter, Adam?’
He looked at her lovely face, the anxious deep blue eyes beneath dusky lashes. ‘Nothing.’
‘You had such an odd expression,' she said quietly.
‘What were you thinking?’
‘That you’re the most beautiful-! His eyes flickered. He hadn’t meant to say that, but it had come from somewhere in his subconscious. So instead of adding ‘woman in the world’, like some adoring newly-wed, he made the statement sound less important. And finished with, ‘Woman in the room.'
She looked at him gravely, then cast a quick glance around the room. ‘Thanks.’
Seeing that——other than two elderly ladies in the corner——she was the only woman in the room, that wasn’t very flattering. He grinned and she smiled back, not at all annoyed. He could have hugged her for that.
‘Shall we go back before I think of any more clumsy compliments?' he suggested, making light of his gaffe. ‘Or would you like some more?’
‘You can flatter me outrageously the whole of the way home as a penance,' she told him with a laugh. Once outside, she shivered in the cool air and rubbed her bare arms. ‘Haven’t you brought anything to keep you warm?’ he asked in surprise.
Her dark eyes slanted to his, feral, panther-like. ‘There’s you.’
Tightness gripped his throat. ‘Sure.’ He began to shrug off his jacket but she stopped him and drew his arm around her.
‘Hold me.’
How could. he resist that soft plea? They stood hip to hip on Gweal Hill, watching the sun sink in the west. With the gentle wash of the waves on the rocks below, champagne air in his lungs and the warmth of the woman he loved by his side, he thought he’d never been so happy. It was natural that they should turn and kiss when the last vibrant glow of the balled sun disappeared into the blood—red sea. Natural that it should be gentle and sweet and utterly loving. He wanted to stand there for ever, tasting her satin lips and the faint fragrance of almond from the little petits fours they’d eaten.
He didn’t hurry. They had all the time in the world. He kissed her cheeks, her closed eyes, suppressed a shudder at the rapture of her expression and came back to her mouth because its sensuality was driving him mad, had fascinated and absorbed him from the first time he’d seen her. This time he’d stay cool. OK, he was already aroused. But he had an iron will. And he needed it if he was to win her trust and love without fear of finding himself her prisoner.
‘Time we went back, I think,’ he said, when she began to retum his kisses too passionately.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, her eyes sparkling like diamonds. Adam tensed. She was expecting him to take her to bed. Wanted him to. Protecting himself, he made conversation as they walked with arms around one another towards the cottage.
‘I thought I’d go to the mainland tomorro
w. Bit of business,’ he said, preoccupied with the luminosity of her face.
‘You can’t,’ she replied, her slender frame inexplicably rigid from head to toe. ‘It’s Sunday. There’s no transport on a Sunday.'
‘None?’ he cried in amazement.
‘No. And if you’re expecting Sunday papers you’ll be disappointed. They come on Monday. And if the weather’s too bad for the helicopter they don’t arrive till the Scillonian docks at lunchtime. Is that a problem?’
‘I can go on Monday,' he said, puzzled by her sudden sharpness. ‘And I think I’ll live without the Sunday papers.’
Trish pulled away, visibly upset now. ‘You need the bustle and excitement of city life, don’t you? Even Truro was too small a city for your tastes. You had to move to London—’
‘I moved, sweetheart, because I wanted to get away from the memories in my house.' He stopped her, gently turned her to him. ‘Memories of you, Trish. That’s why I relocated. I don’t know what it’s like to live somewhere like this. But I want to try. You may think I’m rushing off eagerly to inhale a lungful of polluted air and taste the delights of traffic jams again, but I have to sort out with Louise how we slice up the business—however angry I might be with her. There are practicalities to consider. She is my partner, remember.'
‘Oh. I thought... Me. You left because of me?’ She lifted a bewildered face, which he cradled lovingly in his hands.
‘Listen, Trish. We’ll have a trade. I tell you something about myself and you tell me why you looked like you were sucking a lemon when I said I wanted to leave the island.'
She giggled. ‘Deal.’
He kissed her small, perfect nose, pleased they were making progress. ‘When you left that time four years ago, I felt devastated. I don’t know what I’d been expecting or planning, but my subconscious must have believed you’d be there for ever. And suddenly, because I’d behaved like a kid grabbing sweets, you’d gone.'
He paused, his mind filled with other memories, another loneliness. But he’d been younger then, and his heart had been unprotected. Gritting his teeth, he closed the door on his teenage grief.