by Penny Jordan
'Leave them?' Jenna was confused. Surely they would be staying in France until his parents were ready to go back as they had originally planned?
'There isn't much point in us staying on,' Simon told her flatly, avoiding looking at her. 'I'll ring up tonight and see if we can change our ferry booking. We might as well leave first thing in the morning, I think…' Something had happened, changed. It was almost as though he couldn't bear to be with her. Ridiculously, it hurt.
'All the packing's done, apart from yours… I thought we'd have a light meal, omelette and salad, something like that…'
'That sounds fine.' He was almost curt with her—the Simon she remembered from their past encounters.
All of a sudden, Jenna wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.
'I think I'll go out for a walk,' she said stiffly.
Simon made no comment. What had she been expecting? That he would stop her? Demand that she stay with him?
Angrily she hurried towards the footpath that led to the village.
She was gone much longer than she had anticipated, and in the end it was only hunger that drove her back, her footsteps slowing as she approached the farmhouse.
It was only when she saw that Simon's car was still parked outside that she acknowledged that she had half expected it not to be there. He had made it so plain that he didn't want her company that it was almost a shock to discover he was still here.
She walked into the kitchen and saw that it was immaculately clean. Had he made himself something to eat? She opened the fridge in a mood of angry unhappiness, reaching for the eggs. Well, if he didn't want her company she wouldn't inflict it on him. She would eat by herself.
She slammed the door viciously, and as she turned round Simon walked through from the sitting-room.
'You're back.'
'That's right,' she agreed bitingly. 'But don't worry, I'm not going to inflict myself on you…'
He came towards her. 'Jenna…'
With a shock she recognised the smell of whisky on his breath. 'You've been drinking! Why?'
He laughed harshly, stepping away from her to lean against the door-frame.
'You might well ask! To keep me out of your bed, Jenna, that's why,' he told her brutally. 'And I intend to go on drinking to the point where I can lose my eyes, and sleep without torturing myself with impossible images of you there beside me.' He saw her face and laughed again. 'You don't have the faintest idea what I'm talking about, do you?' He left the door, straightening up and coming towards her so fast that she couldn't avoid him, his hands grasping her arms as he said thickly, 'I want you… I want you so much that there's no way I could stay in this house with you tonight and not make love to you…'
'No… No, I don't believe you! You're making it up,' Jenna protested wildly.
'Am I?'
Just the way he said it made tremors of reaction spread wildly through her body.
'Jenna.'
Her breath caught in her throat as he said her name in something between a groan and a protest, reaching hungrily for her, his mouth against her own demanding that she acknowledge his desire.
After his earlier coolness, it was too much to resist. She felt herself almost melting into him, responding to him in such a way that it was hardly surprising that he should pick her up and carry her through the emptiness of the farmhouse to the privacy of his bedroom.
She knew she ought to protest, to stop this insanity before it went any further, but how could she when her heart and her body cried out yearningly for him?
'Jenna… Jenna…'
The sound of her name whispered between kisses of frantic passion assaulted her senses like the most effective of love potions.
Her clothes seemed to slide from her body, leaving her free to press herself fiercely against him.
She heard him groan and didn't even realise it was because she was touching him until he wrenched free of his shirt and pressed both her hands flat to his torso and imprisoned them there, while his mouth ravished the sensitive tips of her breasts.
His need, his wanting were now hers, and she went willingly, eagerly where he led, shuddering in delight when at last she felt the primitive naked heat of his body pressing her into the softness of the bed.
She wanted him. Needed him so much that she couldn't live another second without his possession. Her fingertips found the curve of his spine and followed it downwards to the lean hardness of his buttocks.
'Oh God, Jenna.'
His spine arched, his hips thrusting anguishedly against her, a harsh moan of need and deprivation shuddering against her skin.
Instinctively her fingers clenched, her nails digging wantonly into his flesh.
Now that it was almost here, this moment of oneness and communion she had never shared with anyone else, there was a rightness, a certainty about it that left no room for doubts or fears.
Her body arched compliantly, eager for his. She felt him hesitate and she cried his name achingly.
His hands moved down her body, supporting her, lifting her against him and she shuddered beneath; the first probing thrust of him.
It was almost shocking, how eagerly her flesh adapted to him, wanting him… cocooning him, welcoming each powerful movement of him within her that took her higher and higher into the realms of delight.
Helpless beneath the storm of sensations sweeping her, she clung to him, shuddering uncontrollably with the desire building inside her.
She heard him cry out, and felt the explosive force of his body's release, and only registered what it meant in terms of her own curtailed pleasure slowly as she felt him withdraw from her.
Deprivation swept through her. She heard Simon say something and swallowed hard, striving to control her own tautly strung need. He moved, and she shuddered visibly as his hand touched her body intimately.
She wanted his touch so much, and yet it was surely wrong that he should be doing this to her?
She must have said something without realising; it, because she heard him whisper rawly, 'No, no, it's my fault. I couldn't wait… Let me do this for you, Jenna… Let me show you how it can be…'
And then incredibly she felt his mouth moving against her with delicate intimacy, conjuring up such a storm of feelings that she couldn't even cry out her shock. His tongue stroked, cajoled and pleasured her until the tiny flutters of sensation deep inside her grew and spread, and then, surely impossibly, he was entering her again, and she could taste the feminine scent of her own body on his mouth.
This time it was different… this time her body broke into wave after wave of exquisite sensation that made her cry out in wonder.
She lay wrapped in his arms for a long time afterwards, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality, reluctant to destroy the perfection of what had been.
It was Simon who broke the silence first, rolling over and cupping her face, his eyes and voice sombre as he said softly, 'God, Jenna, I'm sorry.'
'Don't be…' How odd that she should be the one to comfort him, her fingers automatically smoothing through the disordered thickness of her hair as he pillowed his head between her breasts. 'I wanted what happened just as much as you,' she admitted huskily.
He lifted his head and grimaced ironically, 'I don't think so… You see, I don't just want your body… I want your heart, your soul, I want you, Jenna. I love you and it's tearing me apart… I promised myself I'd never tell you… never burden you with it…'
She looked at him, trying to find something in his expression that would tell her that he was lying, that this was all some sort of game, but there was nothing there to see but anguish and remorse.
'I've loved you for years. All those years when you've avoided and disliked me, and I've wanted you for even longer.' His fingertip traced the outline of her mouth. 'I want you now,' he told her softly, his eyes darkening as he saw the responsive flush of colour stain her skin.
'But you can't, we've…'
'I know…' He cut through her
whispered protest with a grim smile. 'It should be impossible…'
'Is…is that why you wanted to marry me… because you love me?' Jenna asked, looking directly at him for the first time.
'Yes… God, I thought all my prayers were answered when Mrs M rang Ma and gave her the news that we were engaged. All I needed was another miracle to make our engagement real instead of fake and I was home and dry, and when Ma discovered us on the verge of making love, I thought I'd got it. But I realised today when I watched you with Jean that I can't force my love on you, can't make you love me in return…'
Jenna felt as though she was going to cry. It was disconcerting to see Simon so humbled;
'I…'
'Don't say anything,' he told her, 'but promise me one thing, Jen. If… if there should be any repercussions from… from today, you'll tell me, won't you?'
She stared at him and then realised what he meant. 'Is that why you made love to me? Because you hoped I might get pregnant?'
He laughed harshly.
'No, even I'm not that Machiavellian. I made love to you purely and simply because I want and love you so much that I couldn't stop myself. You know you're the first woman who has ever made me feel like that. The first and the last. There's nothing I'd like more than to see your body growing with my child,' he told her thickly, shifting so that he could cover her stomach with his hand. 'I'm selfish enough to want it to be… to want you to have conceived my child, because I know that if you have you will marry me… You're not cut out for single motherhood, and I know you well enough to know you'd never have an abortion. But I hope I've retained enough sanity to know that nothing good could come out of such a forced marriage—not for you, not for me, and not for our child… If you ever come to me I want it to be freely, even if it has to be without love… '
Jenna could hardly speak for the lump in her throat. 'Simon… '
She reached out to touch him but he moved away, saying firmly, 'No, Jenna. I don't want your pity. I know what a soft heart you've got.' He cupped her face and looked seriously at her. 'I also understand that what happened now between us was, for you, something that was left over from the past. Call it a tying up of loose ends… No, don't look away from me. You haven't done anything you need to feel guilty about.' She felt his chest expand as he breathed in steadyingly. 'I feel… privileged that you should have chosen me as your first lover, but I know that emotionally I have no claims on you.'
The phone rang abruptly and imperatively before Jenna could contradict him.
'I'll get it—it will be the hospital…'
Jenna watched him as he pulled on his robe, flushing slightly as she caught sight of the marks she herself had inflicted.
He was gone for quite a long time. Long enough; for her to get dressed, she realised suddenly. No doubt he thought he was being tactful. Doubt suddenly struck her—what if what he had just said about loving her had been simply a palliative, simply the words he always used to escape from a commitment he didn't want. But no, there had been no mistaking the emotion in his voice or his eyes. She might not be experienced sexually where men were concerned, but she doubted that what she had! just shared with Simon could have been born of anything other than a very deep need.
Resolutely she went back to her own room and pulled on her own robe.
She found Simon in the kitchen making coffee.
'I thought you might welcome a cup,' he told her without turning round'.
'Was it the hospital on the phone?'
'Yes. The operation's over successfully—we can go and visit tomorrow if we like.' He turned towards her. 'Jenna—'
'No, please don't say anything yet,' she interrupted him. 'There's something I have to say first.' She swallowed hard. 'When you—when you said that we should get married, and I refused, it was because…because…' She forced herself to look directly at him, still half expecting to see rejection in his eyes. 'It was because I thought you didn't love me,' she told him in a slightly wobbly voice, finishing in a rush, 'and I couldn't bear that… not, when I love you so much…'
The silence seemed to stretch into eternity. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face. She heard him move and thought for a moment he had left the kitchen, and then when she opened them again she found that he had moved quickly and silently towards her.
'My God, Jen! Say that again…'
'Which bit?'
He shook her.
'You know which bit, damn you! Am I hearing things, or did I just hear you saying that you love me?'
There was such a male note of satisfaction and relief in his voice that she almost laughed. This was the Simon she knew—assured, in control.
'Stop tormenting me,' he groaned, the satisfaction suddenly gone. 'Let me hear you say it again.'
She liked this vulnerability in him—all the more so because she knew it was a facet of his personality that would only be revealed to her. It was his love for her that made him vulnerable… In the same way that she was vulnerable to him.
'I love you, Simon.'
She sighed blissfully as she was silenced by the intoxicating heat of his mouth as it moved possessively over hers…
It seemed a long time before he released her.
'I'd better ring Susie and let her know that Ma's OK…'
'Yes, speaking of which,' Jenna said drily, 'surely you didn't honestly think that John would switch his affections from Susie to me?'
'No, I knew how he felt about her, but it was you I was dubious about… I thought you might be in danger of falling for him.'
'So you rang Susie and persuaded her to come over here, by telling her that John was in danger of being stolen away by her supposed best friend…'
He groaned remorsefully. 'I was going insane with jealousy. All this time I've waited for you to notice me, to stop looking at me as though I was the lowest form of human life, and when I get the opportunity to show you how it could be between us, along comes John, stealing you away from me…'
'I had to convince myself I didn't like you,' Jenna told him simply. 'Otherwise I think I would simply have fallen apart. All those elegant ladies who have passed through your life, Simon.'
'Passed through being the operative phrase,' he said firmly. 'You will marry me, won't you, Jen?'
He laughed triumphantly when he saw the look in her eyes, and whispered in her ear, 'I'm almost beginning to think it was worth all the wait and the agony you've put me through just to see that look in your eyes.'
Three weeks later on the lawn of the Townsends' Gloucestershire house, Jenna stood next to Susie and John, congratulating them on their marriage earlier that day. The flowers in the garden vied with the outfits of the female wedding guests and the sun shone from a perfectly blue summer's sky.
'Ma tells me that you still haven't sorted out who you're going to have as a page boy,' Susie told Jenna, grinning at her brother as she did so.
Jenna gave him a mischievous smile and said sotto voce, 'Oh yes, we have, we're having them both…'
Simon groaned, and Jenna laughed up at him, teasing, 'We could always get married in a register office.'
He looked at her for a long time, and then, as though they were completely alone, he said softly, 'No, I've waited so long for you that I want to tie you to me with every law that man and God have devised. I want everyone to know that you're mine.'
He lifted her hand to his mouth and gently placed a kiss in her palm.
'Look at them,' Susie said wryly to her mother. 'Why do they make me feel as though somehow I've missed out on something?'
'You could never live with a man like Simon,' her mother told her. 'You'd find him far too possessive and demanding. John loves you and you love him.'
'Yes,' Susie agreed, looking towards the group of people around her new husband, and adding with a cheery grin, 'But I wouldn't mind betting for all that we got married first, Simon and Jen will be the first to present you with a grandchild—and it will be a son, knowing my brother.'
S
he looked without rancour to where Simon and Jen stood together, isolated from the rest of the guests.
'Have I told you today how much I love you?' Simon murmured, bending his head so that his lips just brushed the delicate skin beneath Jenna's ear.
She shivered deliriously.
'Yes… yes, I think you have.'
'Pity,' he said reluctantly. 'I was about to offer to show you instead… How long is it now before you're legally mine?'
'Another four weeks.'
He groaned. 'Far too long… far, far too long. Once you are mine, Jenna, I'm never going to let you go,' he told her, suddenly serious.
She met his look frankly and openly. 'I'll never want you to. I love you now and I always will. Always…'
'As I love you.' He bent his head and kissed her, and a mischievous young second cousin took the opportunity to snap them with his new camera, which was how he came to present them with the printed result in a very elegant art deco silver frame as a wedding present almost a month to the day later.
^