Fever Pitch

by Sarah Holland

  'This is my room,' she said, pulses leaping.

  He raised one brow. 'Is it?' he drawled softly.

  Her heart thrust at her breast. 'There are other rooms.'

  He shook his black head. 'I prefer this one.'

  Her throat constricted with panic. 'Then I'll sleep elsewhere,' she said, beginning to move towards the door.

  Jacey pushed away from the door, wrapped in menace, watching her in silence, his eyes narrowed, pinning her to the spot, while Louisa felt her heart drum furiously as he stood totally still.

  She drew an unsteady breath. 'I'm not letting you into my bed, Jacey.'

  His smile made her blood run cold. 'Who's Jacey?'

  'I won't let you do it.' A frisson of alarm ran through her as she faced him, electricity crackling between them.

  His eyes flashed with sudden temper. 'I have no intention of sleeping alone on my wedding night,' he said tightly, then he was coming for her with the tread of a wolf.

  Louisa backed, her face whitening. 'And I have no intention of sleeping with you,' she retorted between her teeth, 'so one of us is bound to lose out!'

  He stopped, and a slow smile touched his mouth. 'I never lose,' he said softly, and she felt her heart stop for one incredible moment, a shiver running through her as it crashed back into life.

  He was closing in on her now, the distance covered quickly by those long muscular legs, and Louisa couldn't take her eyes off him, he looked so intensely sexy.

  'I won't let you make love to me,' she said shakily as the long hands came to slide over her shoulders.

  'No?' His cool fingertips ran lazily over her neck. 'Any particular reasons?'

  She stared at him agitatedly, wanting to tell him why, but not daring to. Her body was in a state of heated excitement mixed with fear and uncertainty. She tried to speak, but nothing came out, until she took a deep breath and plunged in head first.

  'Because you hate me!'

  There was a little silence, then Jacey drew her closer. 'Hatred is far more exciting in bed,' he drawled, his hard body sliding against hers. 'It becomes more interesting when you add a touch of hate.'

  Louisa swallowed, her pulses leaping hotly. 'That isn't making love.'

  'Love?' His upper lip curled viciously. 'No such thing, my darling. As you taught me so expertly.'

  She caught her breath as the words cut through her, her heart hurting. 'Can't you forget?' she asked angrily, wincing inside. 'Can't you try to understand?'

  'Understand?' he said roughly. 'Understand what? That I fell for the same type twice? Went head over heels over a greedy little bitch?' He drew a ragged breath, his face darkening. 'I didn't learn the first time. I had to do it again, all over again.'

  Is there no way of reaching him? she thought desperately as she watched him in the silence that followed. He didn't move for a few moments, and she tentatively reached out a trembling hand to touch him.

  'Jacey,' she said huskily, her lower lip trembling, 'you're wrong about me.' Her eyes searched his for some sign of emotion other than hate, but she searched in vain.

  He gave her a barbed smile. 'Sure—I was wrong about Rachel too, I suppose? I'm wrong about both of you. I just have no judgment when it comes to women.'

  She winced at the sniping, angry words clipped from his mouth like bullets. 'Please. . .' she begged, almost in tears, but he broke in without letting her finish, his eyes fierce.

  'Please what?' he bit out, breathing hard. 'Please don't upset your ordered little mind by speaking the truth? Too hard to swallow, is it?' His eyes raked her from head to foot with contempt. 'You sicken me,' he told her roughly, eyes burning. 'You've put me through hell, and you don't give a damn. Well, I'll pay you back in your own coin. This marriage is going to burn you lip with pain before I'm through!'

  He looked at her white, stricken face for a moment, then pushed her away with an effort, turning on his heel to stride out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and she jumped, eyes filled with unhappiness.

  Tears sprang from her eyes, and she put her hands to her face, drawing a deep, ragged breath. I've gambled and lost, she thought, fighting for control. Jacey hated her far more than he had ever loved her, and when he said he was going to put her through hell, she knew he meant it—every last word.

  'How do you fight a wounded animal?' she murmured through her tears, her voice choked.

  He was reacting like this because she had hurt him badly. Wounded pride and damaged self-respect were only a small percentage of his anger towards her. His fierce, consuming hatred came from a far deeper wound.

  Pulling her clothes off with childlike lack of interest, she heaped them in an untidy pile over the back of a chair. Her case hadn't been brought in from the car, so she had nothing to wear in bed. She slipped naked between the sheets, feeling the tears smudge on the crisp white pillow.

  Closing her eyes, she allowed the blanket of sleep to calm her, and memories faded as she slowly fell asleep.

  *

  She moaned aloud in her sleep, her dreams filled with a red-hot sensuality that made her naked body twist restlessly as her subconscious gave her everything she needed.

  In her mind's eye, she saw the gleam of Jacey's bare skin, his thighs entwined with hers, the brush of his long fingers on her body sending shockwaves of sensual pleasure rippling through her.

  Whimpering, she turned her head to his mouth, her lips meeting his in heart-racing passion, the brush of naked skin making her pulses drum frenziedly in her ears.

  The dream began to fade, and she tried to catch her breath, her lids lifting limpidly, her skin warm and damp with perspiration, her pulses still drumming like thunder. She didn't want the dream to end, she wanted to go on in that state of unreality where there was no hatred, no anger between them, where love needed no words.

  Then she felt long fingers slide sensually to her hips, pulling her seductively against warm, bare skin. Her lids flew open with a gasp.

  'No!' she whispered agonisingly. Jacey lay beneath her. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. She just stared down at him, her body rigid.

  'You're not going to stop me,' he whispered, looking at her through half-closed lids, perspiration dewing his dark lashes, his mouth parted with breathless desire.

  Louisa tried to speak, but couldn't. Her heart was hurting as it hammered fast against her chest with desire and shock. She could feel him beneath her, aware in every nerve of his lean, hard-muscled body.

  She tried to raise herself up. His eyes fell to her naked breasts and she heard his harsh intake of breath.

  'Yes . . .' he muttered thickly.

  Then he moved, turning her over, lying on top of her while she struggled breathlessly, her hands thrusting into his thick dark hair, her body bucking and writhing beneath him.

  'Don't fight me. . .' he whispered hoarsely, his hands sliding inexorably to her thighs. 'Don't fight me, please. . .'

  He drove into her in one exquisite movement and she whimpered with the unbearable ecstasy, her hands softening, sliding to cling to his back, caught up in the frenzied lack of inhibition which had been in her dream.

  Her hands were in his hair, sliding feverishly along his naked spine, his hips, while she moaned, every thought driven out of her mind inexorably except one, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU DON'T STOP, she could hear the hoarse, agonised note of his voice as he whispered her name, his ragged breathing, the rapid harsh thud of his heart against her own, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU DON'T STOP, and the tension coiled tighter inside her, growing until she couldn't breathe, her chest constricted, eyes tightly shut, mouth parted wide in gasping ecstasy as she clung to him, DON'T STOP DON'T STOP, then it snapped and she drove against him in dizzying rapid movements, teeth clenched, sweat dripping from her body, breath forced from her in gasps as she heard his hoarse voice crying her name above her, his fingers biting into her flesh while she shuddered with convulsive pleasure beneath him.

  The fever subsided. Louisa lay limp and drained, resting her hands on
his damp back, needing to feel some sort of physical contact after the storm of emotion which had been in their lovemaking.

  She rested her hand on his neck, feeling the damp strands of hair beneath her fingertips, the warm pulse that drummed throughout his body.

  Jacey looked so vulnerable; his face was relaxed, his eyes closed. The long dark lashes rested sleepily on his tanned cheek, dewed with perspiration. Louisa looked at his face and felt her heart wrench with a sigh. All the hatred, all the anger, was smoothed out, leaving a calm handsome friend in her arms instead of a bitter enemy.

  Running her fingers along his warm naked spine, she smiled secretly to herself. It was so good to see him like this. Welcome back, she thought, her eyes closing.

  Then Jacey raised his head to look down at her. 'Was it good, my darling?' he murmured, but something in his voice made her eyes open with unease.

  A smile flickered on her mouth. 'You know it was,' she said huskily, and tensed as she saw the warning light in his eyes.

  'Better than Radcliffe?'

  She closed her eyes. 'Jacey, please ‑'

  'Or did he have a different technique?'

  Her mouth tightened. 'Stop it, Jacey!'

  His smile was cruel. 'You must tell me. I know how much you like variety—I wouldn't want you to get bored.'

  'How can you say that?' she said through white lips, her eyes flashing angrily.

  'Easy,' he gritted through his teeth, 'I just open my mouth and the words come out.'

  Louisa stared at him bitterly. 'Damn you! What do you want from me?'

  His eyes were stormy as he stared down at her, holding her upright. 'I want to watch you suffer,' he said under his breath. 'I want to watch you go through the same hell you put me through.'

  Shock made her heart stop beating for one terrifying moment as she heard his words, felt them sink in, hurting her, while she just stared at him in blinding disbelief.

  Then she started to shake with rage, her face white. 'If you hate me so much, why did you marry me?'

  'Hate you?' As if compelled, his hand slapped viciously across her face. She cried out, her head jerking back painfully. 'I loved you!' he said hoarsely, holding her like a rag doll. 'And you betrayed me. You took everything I had and then you kicked my teeth in.'

  'No,' she moaned, shaking her head, her eyes blurring, 'I thought you'd gone. I thought you'd left me!'

  'Liar!' He slapped her again, and she screamed, pain making the room whirl incoherently.

  Through the haze of tears she saw his violently angry face, saw the rage of emotion in his eyes. A sob choked her throat and she flinched away from him, her hands trembling.

  'Do you know what it feels like?' he asked raggedly. 'I'll tell you. It feels like having your guts kicked out.'

  'Don't...' she moaned, tears coursing hotly over her cheeks.

  'And you'll feel it, Louisa,' he said, breathing hoarsely. 'My God, you're going to go through everything I went through. I'm going to settle the score between us.'

  He pushed her away roughly, standing up and dressing quickly. Louisa watched him through a haze of tears and bitter self-reproach, cursing herself for the day she let her pride smash everything they had had. It was all doubling back on her now. She would have been able to face it if he had given her a guarantee that at the end of it all he would love her again, hold her without hurting her. But how could he do that? His hatred might never die, and the realisation was like a nail driven through her heart.

  He was buttoning the smooth black waistcoat, looking at her without feeling, and she made one last desperate attempt to reach him.

  'Jacey...!' She held out her hand, eyes pleading.

  But he was gone.

  Jacey drove to the village in the afternoon, leaving Louisa alone in the house, giving her too much time to think. She sat in the elegant drawing room feeling a grey cloud of depression pressing down on her.

  Among his records, she had found a Julio Iglesias L.P. and slipped it on the turntable, closing her eyes wearily. The yearning emotion in the song made her heart miss a beat, the dark velvety voice of the singer touching something deep inside her as she listened, empathising with the feeling in the song.

  The door opened, but she didn't hear it because she was too wrapped up in her thoughts and the stirring lyric of the song. Jacey stood watching her in silence for a moment.

  She looked up as the music ended and her eyes widened in surprise. 'Hallo,' she said nervously, studying him, her gaze intent.

  He watched her, unsmiling, his body still. Then he moved to the stereo and switched the record off. 'We're going out tonight,' he told her curtly.

  'Oh?' She sat up, embarrassed because he'd seen her unguarded face for a few seconds while she was involved with her thoughts and emotions. 'Where?'

  'Some friends of mine live next door.' He slipped the record back in its cover, glancing at the dark-haired man on the front before putting it away. 'Wear something sexy, but not formal.'

  It was almost a command. 'Yes, Jacey,' she said through pale lips, her eyes angry.

  His gaze flicked to her. 'Obedience,' he drawled, his mouth crooking sardonically. 'It warms my heart.'

  Louisa watched as he went out of the room, then slumped back in the chair sighing. It was impossible.

  At seven-thirty, she stood in the hall waiting, wearing a pale blue dress that flared at the hips with a low neckline discreetly showing the gold medallion that nestled between her breasts. A scent of perfume hovered around her.

  Jacey joined her in the hall looking sexy in black trousers, smartly casual hacking jacket and a white open-necked shirt. Louisa looked at his brown throat and felt her mouth-go dry.

  'In front of Elizabeth and Rizzio,' he said coldly, 'you will behave yourself. I don't want them to think this is anything but a love match.'

  Her lips tightened. 'Yes, Jacey,' she muttered.

  His face tightened for a moment, then he took her hand, hustling her out of the door and into the garden. The storm had died down overnight, and the late evening sunshine warmed her face. The path was smeared with mud from yesterday's rain, the grass still damp beneath her feet.

  Elizabeth and Rizzio's house was a rambling old family house. The garden was wild and overgrown with thorns and bushes and thistles sprouting in mad abandon. Red stone walls were busily being invaded by sneaky plants that crept across to windows which were peeling with age.

  The door opened and a huge black dog lolloped out. 'Basil!' yelled a voice. The dog bounded on to Jacey, eyes rolling, tail thumping and wagging as it howled ecstatically and licked Jacey with a long pink tongue.

  A small rather scatty woman came after it. 'Naughty Basil!' she reprimanded, yanking it back. 'No dinner for you!'

  Basil howled piteously and rolled his eyes.

  'Hallo, Elizabeth,' Jacey smiled,. kissing her powdered cheek. 'I see Basil's still in need of a good trainer.'

  Elizabeth frowned. She looked like her garden— her hair sprouting in brown abandon, her clothes heaped together in a madcap way, her beady blue eyes the colour of delphiniums.

  'Hallo,' she offered Louisa her hand. 'We met at the wedding. You remember me—I had my flower show hat on.'

  'Of course!' said Louisa as a vivid image of a walking flower shop came into her head. How could she forget?

  'Come in,' Elizabeth said briskly. 'Rizzio will get you a drink while I see to Basil Baskerville.'

  Louisa's eyes met Jacey's. 'Basil Baskerville?' she whispered, laughing.

  He tapped his head with one long finger. 'They're both as mad as hatters,' he murmured conspiratorially.

  They went into the hall, which was a jumble of old magazines, pieces of paper and a collection of worn out shoes heaped in a corner by the telephone table, and followed Elizabeth into the main room of the house.

  'Hallo!' A lanky energetic man with rippling black curls and a hollow face greeted them. He came over to them, one bony hand outstretched, a melon-like grin on his face.

&nb
sp; 'Good to see you, Rizzio,' said Jacey, shaking his hand.

  'You too, Jason. I loved the wedding—all that free food and drink!' Rizzio laughed, eyes twinkling.

  Elizabeth came in behind them with a grimace. 'I hate weddings. I see all my old friends and relatives and think—God! Don't they look old?' She gave Louisa a wry smile. 'Then I stay away from mirrors until the shock wears off!'

  'Dreadful weather last night, wasn't it?' Rizzio went over to a drinks cabinet in the corner and began unscrewing bottles. 'All that thunder and lightning belonged more in a Dracula movie. I kept expecting Bela Lugosi to leap out of the undergrowth baring his fangs!'

  Louisa laughed, and went to sit down in a chair. The room was a complete mess. The piano was covered in dirty old newspapers, a table nearby stacked with record covers. Ashtrays overflowed from corner to corner, old wine glasses stuck to the mantelpiece.

  'Here,' Rizzio came over with a tall glass filled with green liquid, 'a Rizzio Special. I bet you'll love it.'

  It looked like a fruit shop. She sipped it and grimaced. 'You'd lose the bet,' she said drily, eyeing it. It was utterly poisonous. An assortment of fruit was stuck to the rim with a little paper umbrella attached. Typical that it should be green, though, she thought, looking at Rizzio—he reminded her of Captain Hook, and he was notorious for his poisoned green cakes.

  Jacey perched on the arm of her chair, his long legs resting next to her fingers. Louisa looked at his lean flat stomach and felt her mouth go dry. She turned away, her lashes sweeping her cheeks.

  Elizabeth came over with a tray of biscuits, and offered them round. 'I baked them this afternoon,' she said, eyeing them dubiously, 'but something went wrong. I hate baking—I don't know why I bother.'

  Louisa picked up an unfortunate gingerbread man who had been deprived of one arm and bit into his misshapen head. Jacey demurred with a charming smile, but Basil wasn't so choosy. He crept in and slid his long black nose up to the plate.

  'Don't you dare!' Elizabeth said irritably, grabbing at his collar.

  Basil gave her a naughty look and pinched a biscuit. He dodged a smack and slid off into a corner, wagging his tail.