'It isn't possible to define it.'
'Because it doesn't exist!'
'Oh, Anton, how can you say that?' she sighed helplessly.
'I'm not blind to the truth,' he argued harshly, sweeping her into his arms with a swiftness that took her by surprise. 'This is the only thing that makes any real sense— holding a woman in my arms, and knowing the desire to possess her body.'
'And when that desire is no longer there?' Laura asked weakly when his hard mouth had left hers. 'What then?'
He released her abruptly and turned away to light a cigarette, the flame of his lighter illuminating his harsh features briefly before he spoke. 'When that desire is no longer there. I shall seek my pleasures elsewhere.'
He could not have hurt her more at that moment if he had struck her, but now, at least, she knew exactly where she stood—on unstable ground which could cave in beneath her at any time.
It was some time before she was capable of speech, and even then she was shaking so much that she had to clutch at the railing for support as she said coldly, 'One day, Anton, you'll know what it is to love someone, and I hope I'm around when that happens, because I shall then have the pleasure of laughing at your downfall.'
'You will never hear me confess to loving anyone,' Anton stated icily with his back turned rigidly towards her.
'I hope, for your sake, I don't,' she retorted stiffly, walking blindly into the cottage.
Anton followed her inside a few minutes later. She heard him in the shower, and she was brushing her hair with angry, vigorous strokes when he finally entered the room. She put down the brush with a jerky movement and, conscious of the transparency of her night attire, she turned her back on the intense scrutiny of his eyes. She felt too raw, too hurt to feel anything but contempt for him at that moment.
If he came near her she would scream, she told herself, but Anton came up behind her with the silent swiftness of a panther descending on its prey, and when his hands gripped her bare shoulders her quivering lips refused to utter a sound.
She remained rigid, determined not to give in to him, but already that warm sensuous mouth against her throat and shoulder was doing something to her she would have given anything to deny. The tip of his tongue flicked into her ear, and a. shiver of unwanted delight swept through her, while the tantalising scent of his aftershave lotion filled her nostrils and stirred her senses. She tried to move away, to break the spell he was weaving about her, but his hands merely tightened on her shoulders, and moments later she was trapped in the web of her own devastating emotions.
Why fight it? she asked herself at length. Why not accept what he had to offer while the offer still lasted? Tomorrow she might hate herself, but in years to come the memory of these shared moments might be all she would have to sustain her through life.
Her nightdress slithered to the floor at her feet, and coherent thought deserted her as those strong hands fondled her breasts. She leaned back against him weakly, her eyes closed, her lips parted on a low moan of ecstasy, and suddenly she was airborne, her arms locked about Anton's neck as he carried her towards the bed and lowered her on to it. He knelt over her, his hands planted firmly on either side of her body, and she saw his eyes fill with an intense hunger as they travelled over her, devouring her nakedness in a way he had never done before.
'God, Laura, you're beautiful,' he said thickly. 'Don't let me first have to break through the wall of your resistance. Give yourself to me tonight.'
She stared up at him through lowered lashes, veiling what lay hidden in her heart, but unable to deny the aching need within her, and she agreed silently to his demand, allowing her actions to speak for her.
Shyly at first, and then with growing confidence, she untied the belt of his robe, slipping her hands inside and moving them in a slow, bold caress across the wide expanse of his hair-roughened chest. His skin was warm beneath her palms, the muscles rippling beneath her exploring fingertips as he shrugged himself out of his robe and flung it from him impatiently. His eyes burned down into hers as if to probe the depths of her soul, then he lowered himself on to her with a groan and buried his face in the scented hollow between her breasts, a shudder of desire shaking throughout the length of his body. Above the thundering roar of her own heartbeats Laura heard him murmur her name in a voice quite unlike his own, and an odd feeling of triumph assailed her when he finally raised his head and sought her lips with his own.
They made love that night in a way they had never done before. They exchanged kisses and caresses, tenderly at first, and then with a growing urgency until they came together in an explosive union that rocketed them to ecstatically delirious heights.
Later, in the languorous aftermath of their lovemaking, Laura held Anton close and breathed a silent prayer that he would never tire of her. He might never love her as she loved him, but she would do everything within her power to keep the flame of his desire alight. If desire was all he had to offer her, then she would nurture it with tenderness and care.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Laura slept dreamlessly that night for the first time since coming on holiday to Gordon's Bay, and she did not awake until the sun filtered in through the window the following morning. Anton was no longer in bed beside her, so she took a quick bath before changing into a cool summer frock and sandals.
She was still checking on her make-up when Anton walked into the room and closed the door, behind him. Their eyes met in the mirror; hers questioning, a little shy, and his distinctly mocking. He brushed aside the thin strap of her dress with a lazy finger, and lowered his lips to the satiny smoothness of her shoulder before he drew her to her feet and kissed her with lingering intent on her quivering, responsive lips.
'Happy birthday.'
Laura surfaced swiftly. She had forgotten completely. In fact, she had never given it a thought, and, raising her startled, questioning glance to his, she asked: 'How did you know?'
'Your birth date happens to be on our marriage certificate, but who do you think sent you those telegrams on your birthday each year when Elizabeth was off somewhere with Robert on his yacht?'
'You sent them?' she gasped in dismay, and not quite sure how she felt about it. 'Elizabeth asked you to send them?'
'I offered the first time when she bewailed the fact that she would be unable to send you a telegram on your birthday, and after that I sent it off automatically each year whenever they were away,' Anton explained, and, releasing her, he said abruptly, 'Turn around. I have something for you.'
Stupefied, Laura obeyed, standing perfectly still while he gently brushed her hair out of the way and fastened a necklace about her throat. It was the most magnificent piece of jewellery she had ever seen, she thought dazedly as she stared at herself in the mirror and lightly fingered the delicate design in gold which was so richly studded with diamonds and blue sapphires.
'Anton…' she began helplessly, so totally overwhelmed by his gift that words failed her as she turned to face him. 'What can I say?' she whispered finally.
He smiled faintly. 'Do you like it?'
'It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received,' she whispered, and, to her dismay, her eyes filled with tears.
He stared at her oddly and raised a hand to her face, brushing away the single tear that spilled over on to her cheek with his fingers. 'I've never known a woman to cry before when I've given her something.'
'You must think me stupid, but—' Tears of happiness and delight choked her and, grasping his strong wrist in both her hands, she turned her lips into his palm in a spontaneous gesture. 'Thank you.'
Seemingly astonished, he raised his heavy eyebrows sharply above those deep-set eyes, then he drew his hand from hers, and caught her against him in a fierce embrace which was painful yet pleasurable. The softness of her trembling mouth was crushed beneath his in a hard, satisfying kiss which left her clinging to him dizzily when he finally raised his head.
There was a sharp knock at the bedroom door, and Sally's voice deman
ded haughtily, 'Aren't we ever going to have breakfast this morning?'
'Just coming,' Laura assured her, and then a more pressing thought came to mind as she stood in the circle of Anton's arms and stared up at him solemnly. 'Anton, did you change your mind about coming because you remembered my birthday?'
His expression became shuttered, and with his lips against her throat creating havoc with her emotions, he asked roughly, 'What difference does it make? I'm here, aren't I?'
'Aunty Laura?' Sally called sharply, bursting into the room impatiently, then she stopped dead in her tracks to survey them with wide, slightly indignant eyes. 'I thought you said that you weren't demon—demon—'
'Demonstrative?' Anton supplied the word she was searching for, ignoring Laura's attempts to wriggle free of his arms. 'It so happens that we aren't demonstrative in front of prying eyes such as yours,' he added smoothly, glancing at Sally sternly from his great height. 'We like our privacy, so next time you find yourself facing a closed door, young lady, you knock and wait until you're admitted.'
Sally's lips curled in a slightly petulant fashion before she lowered her eyes to the floor and muttered, 'Sorry.'
'And don't sulk,' Anton ordered before asking in a lighter tone, 'Are you hungry?'
'I'm starving!' Sally exclaimed, recovering swiftly.
'So am I,' Anton admitted and, taking Laura's hand, he drew her towards the door. 'Come on, let's have breakfast.'
A surprise awaited Laura when she entered the kitchen. Anton and Sally had prepared an enormous breakfast between them, and in her place at the table stood a small gift-wrapped parcel.
'Happy birthday,' Sally laughed excitedly, flinging herself at Laura and kissing her enthusiastically. 'Now open your present.'
Laura obediently undid the wrapping to find that her gift from Sally was a tin of her favourite body talc, and the ready tears returned to her eyes once more when she suspected that Anton had had a hand in this as well.
'You're a darling, Sally, and thank you,' she cried, hugging Sally tightly in her arms.
Over Sally's dark head Laura's eyes met Anton's, and her heart leapt with a crazy warmth when he smiled at her without a trace of his usual mockery. This was truly a birthday she would not forget in a hurry.
When the time came to return to Bellavista, Laura closed the cottage door behind her with a genuine feeling of regret. It had been a holiday to remember, and during those warm autumn days she had watched Anton unwind gradually, the lines of strain disappearing from his ruggedly handsome features to leave him relaxed and more approachable.
'I'm so glad you came, Uncle Anton,' Sally told him with childish sincerity when he had stacked their suitcases in the boot of the white Jaguar. 'It's been fun, and I'm so glad we're a family now.'
Laura's throat tightened, but, surprisingly, it was Anton who took Sally in his arms and said: 'I'm glad we're a family too.'
He stretched out a hand towards Laura, silently including her in his statement, and when his fingers closed about hers she felt a warmth enfolding her heart with an aching sweetness. Oh, God, she loved this man so much, and how very much she yearned to make her feelings known to him. Surely, if she loved him enough, he would eventually learn to love her in return?
'It's time we left,' Anton interrupted her thoughts, and later, as they sped towards Cape Town, the week the three of them had spent together at Gordon's Bay became a delightfully happy memory Laura would have reason to cling to desperately during the long, painful weeks ahead.
'Laura, how much does your marriage to Anton mean to you?' Gina asked unexpectedly one morning while they were having tea on Bellavista's wide sun-stoep.
'It… means very much to me,' Laura replied cautiously, and a little surprised that Gina should ask.
'Do you love him?' Gina persisted, and when Laura hesitated, she gestured expressively with her hands. 'I'm sorry, my dear. I wouldn't normally pry into your affairs like this, but I do have a very good reason for asking,' she explained, repeating her query. 'Do you love Anton?'
Laura nodded, so accustomed to hiding her feelings that she was unable to confirm them verbally.
'Has he mentioned Camilla von Dissel at all recently?' Gina questioned her, and the mention of that name sent a tremor of inexplicable fear along Laura's nerves.
'Her name has never been mentioned between us,' she replied truthfully, but her mouth felt dry, and her stomach muscles seemed to be twisting themselves into a painful knot. 'Why do you ask, Gina?'
Gina's green glance was unwavering and filled with concern when it met Laura's. 'My dear, I think you should know that Camilla von Dissel arrived in Cape Town a few days ago. Her husband died some weeks ago leaving her a wealthy widow and, from what I'm told, she's returned to South Africa with her sights firmly set on Anton.'
Laura shivered as if an icy wind had blown against her skin. 'Surely she must know that he's married?'
'My dear Laura, a woman like Camilla would consider that no obstacle at all,' Gina laughed a little cynically. 'If she wants him, then she'll certainly do everything in her power to get him.'
'Anton wouldn't be fooled by her again,' Laura argued, not wanting to believe that Camilla von Dissel was capable of severing the still fragile bond which linked her in marriage to Anton.
'Men are silly creatures, really,' Gina remarked scathingly, 'and Anton wouldn't be the first man to make a fool of himself twice over the same woman.'
It was no use sticking her head in the sand like an ostrich, Laura realised at length. Camilla had once featured prominently in Anton's life and, if she was clever enough, she could do so again.
'Do you think he knows?' Laura asked anxiously. 'That she's back, I mean?'
'I'm certain he does.'
'You sound more than certain—you sound convinced.' Laura clenched the arms of her chair so tightly that her knuckles shone white through her skin. 'What is it, Gina? Have you been told something?'
'It isn't what I've been told, it's—' Gina paused and bit her lip as if she were angry with herself. 'It was nothing,' she ended in her most convincing manner, but Laura was not fooled for one moment.
'Please, Gina. I must know.'
Gina shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unable to meet Laura's eyes while she spoke. 'I met Graham in town yesterday. We had lunch together at that new Sea Point restaurant, and…'
'Anton and Camilla were there together,' Laura filled in for her when she paused uncertainly.
'Look, my dear,' Gina began with some urgency as she leaned towards Laura and placed a sympathetic hand on her arm. 'I'm fond of you, and so is Graham, or I wouldn't be here today talking to you like this. I'm not saying that you have reason to fear the worst, but forewarned is forearmed, they say, and Graham thought that I would be the best one to enlighten you.'
Laura was silent for a long time, trying to assimilate the information Gina had passed on to her, then she smiled stiffly and said: 'I'm grateful to you, Gina.'
This talk with Gina placed Laura on the alert, and she began to notice things she might have overlooked before. Anton began to miss dinner on countless evenings, arriving home late at night to occupy the bed in the dressing-room. It was, so he had said, not to disturb her with his late arrival at night, but Laura would not have been human if she did not begin to suspect that he was seeking his pleasure in the arms of the woman he had once loved so passionately.
She was torturing herself unnecessarily, she told herself firmly one morning when she drove herself to town in the small blue Mazda which Anton had given her. At twelve-thirty she telephoned his office on the spur of the moment, hoping to have lunch with him as she had done several times before, and hoping, at the same time, that his presence would alleviate her foolish fears, but his secretary informed her, with unsuspecting truthfulness, that he had gone to an early lunch with Countess von Dissel, and that he was not expected back before three that afternoon.
The most important thing at that moment was not to allow her imagination to run
away with her, Laura told herself in an attempt to view the situation logically, but jealousy and suspicion coursed through her veins like a veld fire. Anton had always been a stickler as far as taking only an hour for lunch was concerned, but with Camilla von Dissel he suddenly relaxed that rule, stretching it to almost four hours. No one in their right mind lingered over lunch for four hours. What were they doing? Talking, perhaps? Making love?
'Oh, God!' she groaned when she reached the Mazda and dumped her parcels on the back seat before sliding wearily into the driver's seat. 'I must trust him,' she hissed at herself through clenched teeth. 'I must have faith. If anything good is to come out of this marriage, then I must believe in him. I must!'
'Believing in Anton is like believing that the storm clouds in the sky are nothing but candyfloss,' a sceptical little voice warned her, and when the first heavy drop of rain splashed on to the windscreen, Laura thrust her doubts aside and swung the car into the traffic to return to Bellavista.
It was at a party after the official opening of a new business complex in the city that Laura finally met Camilla von Dissel. She materialised among the hordes of people in a glittering black dress which was slit daringly from her shapely ankles to her thighs, and her hair, black as a raven's wing, was piled high on to her regally held head, the soft curls fastened with a large diamond clip which Laura swiftly calculated must have cost a small fortune.
'Darling!' she exclaimed in a low, musical voice as she swept across the floor towards them, and several heads turned just in time to witness Camilla embracing Anton and kissing him, European style, on both cheeks. Laura felt indignation drumming at her temples, but Camilla had not yet completed her act of possession. She stood close to Anton, her hands on his shoulders, and diamonds glittering at her smooth throat when she smiled up at him seductively. 'I've been hunting for you everywhere, and I was beginning to feel totally miserable thinking you hadn't come.'
Calm and seemingly unperturbed, Anton removed her hands from his shoulders, and kissed each one in turn while he smiled down at her with a warmth and affection that sent more than just a stab of envy through Laura's heart. She felt like an intruder standing there beside him, and then, as if suddenly remembering her presence, he made the necessary introductions.
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