by Penny Jordan
'Oh, Jen…'
Susie sounded awkward and unsure of herself.
'Did Simon ask you to come down here?' Jenna wasn't sure what made her ask the question, just some deep instinct she felt impelled to obey.
For a moment she thought Susie wouldn't reply, and then to her astonishment her friend said defensively, 'Yes, he did. He warned me that unless I did I was likely to lose John.'
'Lose John?' Jenna stared at her. 'But you were the one who broke the engagement… '
'It wasn't like that. We had a quarrel. I can't remember what it was about. I said if he felt like that he could take back his ring. I never expected that he would. It was just—it was just a silly quarrel. I love him, Jen.'
Jenna sat down on her bed.
'Then why all that business about Simon trying to force you to marry his friend… Why?' She made a hopeless gesture with her hands, unable to find the words to describe her sense of disbelief.
'Because I was angry, that was why… I knew Simon would find out what I'd done. I thought he'd tell John, and that John—'
'Would come running after you,' Jenna supplied grimly. 'Dear heaven, does Simon know any of this?'
'He does now. When he rang me last night and told me what was happening down here…'
'Nothing's happening!' Jenna told her, exasperated. 'At least, not between me and John. Susie, use your brains. I like John, he's a very nice man… ideal for you, you feather-headed creature, but far too stoical for me.' She got up and paced over to the window.
'What I can't understand is why on earth Simon would do a thing like that. He must be as aware as me that John is still deeply in love with you… that all he wanted from me was someone to talk to… Why? Why?'
She turned round and saw that Susie was looking oddly at her.
'Don't you know why?'
Jenna shook her head.
'No. No, I don't… Do you?'
There was a long pause, and when she did answer, Susie was rather evasive. 'If you really want to know, why don't you ask Simon? After all, he is your fiancé.'
'Oh, come on, you know how that happened!'
'But that doesn't make your engagement any less real, does it?'
Susie was employing a brand of logic that Jenna couldn't understand.
'We're supposed to be spending our time down here convincing your parents and my grandmother how unsuited we are,' she said fretfully. 'Instead of which, Simon's started acting like the jealous lover in a bad melodrama.'
'Maybe he isn't acting,' Susie suggested.
Jenna was lost for words.
'You can't be suggesting that… that he's got so caught up in this wretched fake engagement that he actually believes he should be jealous of John, are you?' When Susie made no response, Jenna gave her an exasperated look. 'Oh no, Susie, that won't wash. You know how Simon feels about me. God, it was plain enough when I had that idiotic crush on him.'
'That was nearly ten years ago.'
'Exactly, and believe me, nothing's changed, apart from the fact that I've grown up and realised that what I mistook for love was nothing more than a teenager's infatuation.'
A strange expression crossed Susie's face, but before Jenna had time to comment on it, Susie's mother knocked on the door.
'I'm sorry to interrupt, but Susie darling, what are we going to do with that very nice young man? He's making polite noises about leaving now that you've arrived…'
'Don't worry about it, Ma. I'll sort it out. The only way he's leaving is with me.'
'Simon's phone call brought one thing home to me,' Susie told Jenna when her mother had left. 'Pride means nothing, when retaining it means losing the man you love. I'm going to tell John what a fool I've been, so keep your fingers crossed for me, Jen, and pray that he takes me back…'
CHAPTER NINE
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He did, of course, and, to judge from the fatuously blissful expression on his face when the pair of them returned from their walk, he was as pleased with the outcome as Susie.
Jenna tried hard not to feel envious of her friend, but it was very difficult.
She felt apart and outside the excitement generated by Susie's announcement that they were going to get married just as soon as it could be arranged.
'Beaten you to it, brother dear,' Susie teased Simon, ignoring her mother's wail of distress.
'John has to go back to Canada soon, Ma, and this time I'm going back with him—as his wife. We'll get married in church, but very quietly and quickly. And then all of you can come over and spend Christmas in Canada with us.'
This was a new, decisive side of her friend that Jenna had rarely seen before. She hugged her and wished them both well, but inside she was aching with loneliness and pain. She knew Susie meant nothing unkind by it, but to hear her teasing Simon about their marriage, when she knew that their engagement was only a sham, hurt her unbearably.
She was relieved when her grandmother diplomatically said that all the excitement had left her feeling rather tired, and that she rather felt she would have an early night, because it gave her an excuse to go upstairs with her.
'Quite a surprise, Susie turning up like that,' her grandmother commented as they walked upstairs. 'I wonder what made Simon phone her.'
Jenna shrugged and tried to sound uninterested.
'I don't know.'
It was, after all, the truth. She couldn't believe that Simon had actually thought that John was in danger of falling out of love with Susie and in love with her—he wasn't the type. And yet, what other interpretation could she put on his hasty phone call to England?
For most of the following day Susie and John were busy on the telephone making arrangements for their wedding.
A phone call to their local vicar confirmed that they could be married after a minimum wait of three weeks. A date was set, John rang his family in Canada, all of whom were insisting on flying over for the event, and Jenna suspected that before they were finished Susie and John would find that their 'quiet, quick ceremony' had escalated into a full-blown affair.
The newly engaged couple were flying back to England on an evening flight, and Susie had managed to persuade her mother that there was no necessity for her to return home immediately.
Susie and John left after lunch. With them gone the atmosphere at the farmhouse seemed less electric, more subdued.
Surely now, with the excitement of Susie's, wedding to look forward to, it would be easier for Simon and herself to break their engagement. She wanted to suggest as much to him, but he had become very withdrawn, elusive almost.
No doubt he was tired of her company and looking forward to his return to London, and the sophistication of women of a far different type than herself.
Simon's mother wandered into the garden, where Jenna was sitting, worrying. As she sat down, Jenna noticed her frowning and touching her hand to her side.
'Is something wrong?'
'Just a twinge of pain—probably that quiche we had for lunch, it was very rich. I'm so relieved that Susie's finally settling down, and John is just right for her.' They chatted idly for several minutes, but after a while Simon's mother got up again, still massaging her side.
'I think I'll go and he down for a while, Jenna… I really shouldn't have eaten that quiche.'
Her grandmother and Simon's father, who were both history buffs, had gone into the local town, at the invitation of Monsieur Le Brun, to look at its historical records. In a way Jenna wished she had gone with them. It would have given her something to think about, other than Simon.
She didn't even know where he was. He had gone out after lunch saying that he needed petrol, and he hadn't come back.
The day had been particularly hot, almost oppressively so, and she instinctively sought out her favourite shaded spot by the river, dropping down on to the grass.
She had brought a book with her, but she couldn't concentrate. She had not slept well for the last few nights, and when she found the print blurring in front o
f her eyes for the third or fourth time she gave up the impossible task of trying to occupy her mind with something other than Simon, and lay down, closing her eyes.
Even in her thoughts there was no escape from him. This holiday, which should have destroyed the last remnants of her childhood feelings had instead brought them back to life, but in a far more adult form.
Had she ever really stopped loving him? She knew the answer. Hadn't she subconsciously always compared every man she had dated with him, using him as a measuring stick, and finding others wanting? She twisted restlessly, bruising the grass and releasing its clean, green scent.
As a teenager she had cherished rosy vague dreams about him. Fantasies in which he had declared his love for her, kissed her reverently; now her fantasies had taken on a more earthy, adult quality.
She ached for the touch of his hands on her body, for the male reality of his flesh against her own. She shivered involuntarily, banishing the disturbing images that filled her mind.
The mid-afternoon heat penetrated even the quiet shade of her refuge. Her eyelids grew heavy, as sleep claimed her.
She woke up abruptly, tensing with shock when she saw Simon leaning over her. His hands were on the ground on either side of her head, his mouth only inches from her own. Her lips tingled, almost as though he had actually caressed them, and she couldn't resist touching them with the tip of her tongue as though seeking his taste.
She saw his eyes change, darkening, desire flaring in their depths. It was a moment out of time.
His response to her was so unexpected that immediately she rushed into protective nervous conversation, demanding huskily, 'What time is it. Is it late? I fell asleep…'
'And I woke you—in the traditional manner,' Simon told her, his glance focused on her mouth.
She had been right; he had kissed her. Her stomach lurched in a wave of need. She wanted to reach up and urge his dark head down towards her. She wanted to touch him, to explore the tanned flesh of his chest, where his casual shirt revealed it to her eager eyes.
'Simon.'
He heard the tremor in her voice and smiled mirthlessly. 'What's wrong? Disappointed that I'm not John?'
She stared at him, her eyes widening as her breath locked in her throat.
'Not denying it? That's my honest Jenna.' He sounded bitter. 'You look surprised. Why, I wonder? Aren't I allowed to be resentful of the fact that you desire him and not me? We're both adults, after all, both used to living completely full lives.'
What was he telling her? That he was sexually frustrated and that he wanted her? She stared at him again, unable to believe she was right.
'John was only telling me how he felt about Susie. There was never anything sexual between us. You can't think there was?'
Simon gave her an oddly bitter smile.
'Men are inclined to think all sorts of peculiar things when they have a physical need for a woman who doesn't share that need.'
She waited for a moment, hardly daring to put her thoughts into words and then acknowledging that she must. 'Are you… are you trying to tell me that you want me…in a physical sense?' Try as she might, she couldn't keep the astonishment out of her voice.
'Amazing, isn't it?' Simon agreed self-mockingly. 'Definitely a case of how the mighty are fallen, but you aren't fifteen any more and we're meeting as equals now, Jenna… in knowledge and experience… not as innocent teenager and young adult male.'
'You make it sound almost as though before…as though it was for my sake that you…'
'Didn't take advantage of your feelings for me?' Simon supplied tautly for her. 'Is that so impossible to believe?' His hand cupped her face, the shock of the physical contact burning through her skin.
'How could I have seduced my sister's best friend… a little girl really, because that's what you were…and that's what it would have been. Do you remember that day when you saw me kissing Elena?'
Jenna nodded her head, her mouth dry.
'Well, I looked at you then and wondered what it would feel like to have your mouth under mine, your body beneath my hands… ' He broke off and made a noise deep in his throat, a combination of despair and self-disgust.
'I still want to know. I've wanted to know for years. Imagine what it's like for me, hearing from Susie about each man in your life.'
'So I'm sort of the one who got away, and the challenge is still there like an itch, is that it?' Jenna asked faintly.
Inside she felt as though she was bleeding to death. To know that he wanted her physically but didn't love her; it was the very worst kind of pain.
'I suppose I ought to be flattered,' she told him emptily. 'But I'm not. To be desired without being loved isn't flattering… '
'Are you trying to tell me you've loved all the others?'
He was openly scornful now, and for a moment she hated him, and then suddenly she was too exhausted for any further pretence. The shock of discovering that he had wanted her physically for so long had destroyed her defences completely.
'What others?' she asked him painfully, looking directly into his eyes as she added, 'There haven't been any "others", Simon, and before you say anything, there isn't going to be any "you". You can blame me, or blame my upbringing, I don't really care. Perhaps it's old-fashioned and out of date, but for me sex must be allied to love.'
She saw and felt the shock course through him, and then an expression she could only define as pity filled his eyes.
Instantly she tensed against the pain of it, knowing she was facing now what she had always dreaded facing: being exposed and vulnerable to him, an object of pity, a woman who had never known a man's desire, never shared the physical pleasures he had known.
'Don't feel sorry for me. Don't pity me because I don't have your experience,' she told him huskily. 'I…'
She didn't get any further. His mouth came down on hers with a kind of mute savagery she had never expected to see in a sophisticated man like Simon.
His teeth ground into her lower lip, bruising it, his tongue claiming the intimacy of her mouth. Against her will she felt herself responding to him, something elemental in her blood responding blindly to the suppressed need of his kiss.
It was sheer physical desire and nothing else, but that didn't stop her body filling with a physical ecstasy she had never known could exist. She was completely lost, completely submerged by the tidal wave of need that swept her. Somewhere on the periphery of her awareness she knew that Simon had released her mouth, that he was trying to say something to her, but she wasn't listening. All her energy was consumed by the need to satisfy the ache inside her. She reached up and locked her hands behind his neck, wanting the sensation of his mouth against hers so much that she felt she would die without it.
'Do you honestly think this is feeling sorry for you?' Simon demanded, his tongue-tip running avidly over the swollen contours of her mouth. 'Or this?'
His words brought her back to sanity. She tried to turn her head away, to reject her own need as well as his, but he simply cupped her head and turned it back, plundering the set line of her mouth with his tongue and teeth until she could not fight against him any more.
The full weight of his body pressed her against the earth and she welcomed it eagerly, greedily almost, like a miser hoarding up gold. She would cherish these moments, store them up.
'Jenna!'
She felt the shudder he stifled against her mouth, her whole body reacting to the sensation of his hand against her breast. He moved, lifting away from her, turning her so that he could unfasten her top.
It knotted to reveal her midriff, and beneath it she was bare.
She felt the air leave her lungs as his hands cupped her breasts. His lips touched her ear.
'Is this the first time?'
She shivered violently in response, unable to make any comment, but her very silence seemed to give him his answer.
Her skin seemed to know his touch already, eager to respond to it, her nipples swollen to aroused nubs of f
lesh.
The slightly rough friction of his thumb pad against such sensitised flesh was so exquisitely pleasurable that she couldn't restrain herself from crying out, her body twisting sinuously as she sought to escape a delight that was almost too much to bear.
'And this…' Simon demanded, his voice thicker, rawer. 'Is this the first time, too?'
She cried out as his mouth took her engorged flesh, too tormented to stop herself, her spine arching as her fingers clutched at his shoulders, wanting to prolong the agony that was his savagely sweet sucking of her breast and yet wanting to end it at the same time.
She sobbed his name; felt it torn from her throat as an expression of all that she was experiencing, and shuddered wildly beneath the slight grate of his teeth against her, as he slowly released her.
'Feel what you're doing to me, Jenna. See what touching you makes me feel,' he begged, roughly drawing her hand against his body to where it pulsed fiercely in masculine arousal.
'I want you. I want to make love to you, but not here…not like this.'
His words brought her back to her senses.
'No! No. We… You…'
You don't love me, she had been about to say, but she tensed suddenly as she heard his mother calling her name.
It was too late for them to do anything. Simon tugged her top into place, and protected her with the bulk of his body, but Jenna knew immediately from her embarrassment that his mother was well aware of what she had interrupted.
'Oh!' She faltered and looked uncertainly at them. 'Simon, I… Jenna, I know it's not your night, but I was wondering if you would cook dinner tonight. My tummy's still bothering me a bit…'
They took it in turns to prepare the meals, and Jenna nodded in quick agreement, knowing that her face still burned with embarrassed colour as Simon's mother turned and hurried away.
She bit her lip and waited for Simon to say something. Unlike her he seemed totally unconcerned, almost in some sense pleased. As though he was glad that his mother had seen them.
'I'd better go in.' She tried to get up, but his fingers circled her wrist, stopping her.