‘You don’t really want me, do you?’ No matter how much it hurt, or how unwise it was to ask, wasn’t it better to have confirmation of how he felt?
Indifferently he laughed dryly while his arm, just as casually, it seemed, once again encircled her taut shoulders. ‘I enjoy having guests when I can spare the time to entertain them properly,’ he drawled, with what Petra might have put down as a hint of evasiveness if she hadn’t known he was too direct to indulge in such a vice.
‘I’ll tell Mrs. Allen and Jake to look after you,’ he continued lightly, not adding, as she guessed, that he would leave orders she was to sing at no more parties, even if pressed.
‘I might be bringing my stepmother back with me. Janey, too, of course. Janey will want to see Oliver.’
In other words, keep off the grass! Petra, while not so adept at reading between the lines as Neil, received the message quite clearly! Mutinously she stared up at him, feeling his attraction even through his ruthlessness. Why did he have to look so like her loved Cameron, the one in the portrait, while the brutal truth was that here was a man who considered her a stranger, one he would dearly like to be rid of!
But even as she stared his bleak face changed and he smiled down at her. ‘My beautiful Petronella,’ he teased, ‘how would my Scottish ancestors have dealt with you? No doubt, from the tales I’ve read, there would have been at least one among them who would have carried you off to his fortress like castle and had his way with you. I’m descended from extremely virile men, I believe.’
Petra flinched, the glint of devilry behind his smile forcing her to review her former impression that he knew little or nothing about his forebears. ‘People weren’t civilised anywhere in those days,’ she retorted weakly.
As if he could actually see the high flush on her cheeks and had a fancy to see it deepen, he said suavely, ‘What makes you think our feelings have changed so very much? Men still have the same ravaging instincts and women, mostly, still appreciate this.’
‘Some women might!’
‘When I look at you, Petronella, I feel something very predatory stirring. Don’t you think I’d like to take you off to some place where no one could find us?’
Her breath caught in her throat to even think of it and all her stomach muscles seemed to tense painfully—as perhaps he intended. Even her mind, usually fairly nimble, seemed shot through with a sharp, stinging light, not allowing anything but an inane cry, ‘I shouldn’t let you!’
‘Oh, you’d scream to begin with, but not for long, I’m thinking.’
He was merely trying to provoke her. A punishment, perhaps, for entertaining his men without asking his permission. Or maybe, for refusing to go with him to Toronto. She must ignore him. Yet no matter how she tried she couldn’t ignore the curious tension which seemed to exist between them. For her part there was a feeling of being strung out on mind-taking electric wires each time Neil concentrated his steely glance on her. The crazy impression remained, even as she attempted nervously to rationalise it, that if he cared to exercise a little pressure she could go completely out of control. Maybe he was right about men and women sharing the same basic impulses, but surely, with a modicum of forethought there was nothing that couldn’t be kept in check!
Sensibly she decided to take no notice of his coolly annoying observations. She shook her fair head and smiled lightly at him. ‘I think I’ll go in now. Will you be gone before I’m up in the morning?’ Neither her smile or what she said was altogether to her liking, both tending too much towards the audacious, considering her circumstances, but she didn’t know what else to say or do.
‘I expect to be, Miss Sinclair,’ he was watching her with a kind of taut amusement. ‘While I’m gone you might give some thought to your obviously conflicting desires. To hear you talking I’d have thought you’d have jumped at the chance to escape from the ranch and me. Yet here you are, all set, it seems, to stay longer—and I will be back, Petronella, never doubt it!’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ her voice was low and urgent as if she was forcing herself to believe it.
‘Oh yes, you do,’ he was staring down at her small shocked face, ‘or if you really don’t, should I make myself clear?’
‘Please,’ she protested feebly, not ready to admit anything like what he implied. ‘I don’t think either of us will profit from such a conversation.’
Not conceding her this, he went on, ‘Other mysterious aspects of this situation aside, I’m of the opinion that the warm blood of the South—your mother’s—invades your so attractively virginal body but that the coolness of a more northern climate rules your head. Have little doubt, Petronella, if there’s to be a fight between the two, which one is going to win.’
‘Neil Cameron,’ she cried, as he stung her with vengeance, ‘I’m your cousin!’
He grinned then, his teeth glinting white through the darkness. ‘A lot of nonsense.’
‘Then you don’t believe me?’
‘I believe it all right,’ his voice was mocking. ‘It was perhaps so in the beginning, but too long ago to put any obstacle between you and me.’
She glanced up at his tone and the light caught her wide startled eyes. He reached out suddenly and jerked her against him while the moon danced in wicked glee over his broad shoulder. Then his head, bending over her, blotted it out into a darkness that terrified as his mouth crushed ruthlessly on to hers. He pressed her closer, bending her slowly backwards, ignoring her mute plea for mercy as her slender body was caught against the steel of his arm and the soft skin of her mouth was bruised and broken. Her mouth hurt, but there was also a fire, like some molten lava running through her, making her suddenly cling to him despite the pain. She seemed incapable of any physical resistance as his mouth dealt ruthlessly with her trembling, shaking lips, as if he was practising all the skill at his command. Helplessly she was tossed on the tide of her clamouring senses, the expertise of his lovemaking which seemed to overpower everything else.
When he let her go, somewhat abruptly, she was so bemused she could only stare at him witlessly for the space of hour-long seconds. He appeared to be in no hurry to do anything but look back at her, even if his rather threatening regard was of a somewhat different nature from hers. Petra felt herself growing hot and cold under his light scrutiny which seemed to intimate that everything was going his way, as he had intended all along. His voice when he spoke was low, almost amused, the casual timbre of it raising inside her a near anger that subdued slightly the chaotic state of her feelings.
His hand went smoothly to brush the tumbled hair from her hot forehead, deliberately tantalising. ‘If I kissed you again, Petronella, you might even confess to looking forward to my return with no other prompting.’
Petra flinched as though she had been struck with the sword of her own folly. Yet the grey of her eyes darkened to a near violet as she grew afraid, but whether of Neil or herself she wasn’t sure. ‘I ...’ her voice faded weakly. Words could never come easily when one was so churned up inside. Only one thought got through—she couldn’t afford to really quarrel with him. Maybe he had inadvertently shown her the way to get what she wanted, if her nerve held. Who was she to grumble if all she need part with for future security were a few light kisses? She tried not to recall that the kisses she had just exchanged with him had been far from light. With determination she forced herself to go on. ‘Naturally I shall look forward to your return, Neil.’
‘Naturally,’ he echoed dryly, looking far from impressed. ‘One day, Petronella, if you stay much longer, I might be tempted to change all that dignified coolness, so be warned!’
David seemed to miss Neil much more than she did. Or this was what Petra tried to convince herself. David, even in three short weeks, seemed to have lost a lot of his pallor. He had put on some weight and was beginning to look quite sturdy again.
‘I like it here, Petra,’ he told her eagerly, one morning before he went off with Jake. ‘I’m not sure if I’d
care to be a rancher exactly, but I would like to stay in Canada. Neil says the time to emigrate is when one is young, like you an’ me.’
‘Did he actually say—me?’ Petra heard herself asking, a hesitant catch in her voice.
‘Sure he did!’ David was already adopting phrases. ‘Have you asked him if we can stay? I mean all the time, Petra?’
‘Well, no, not yet.’ Even to talk about it like this seemed to present an insurmountable obstacle, whereas before she had suggested confidently it was just a matter of time. ‘But I’m going to, when he gets back from Toronto,’ she said hurriedly, in a little rush-which seemed to take a lot of courage, seeing that Neil was hundreds of miles away. Why did she, whichever way she glanced, seem to see his spectral presence looming over her? ‘Would you like to go to boarding school here?’ she asked, as if unconsciously seeking loopholes. If David was very much against it...?’
‘Oh, yes, I would!’ David’s smile lit up his face but cot Petra’s spirits. ‘Just like Prince Andrew, and we all know how he enjoyed it. It would be super!’
Petra smiled, in spite of herself. ‘I’m not sure you could go there, but there must certainly be similar places.’
‘But only if you were here during the hols, Petra.’ David’s sunny expression changed warily. ‘If you were going back to England I couldn’t stay here on my own.’
‘No, darling,’ Petra hastened to reassure him, recognising that he still had a long way to go before the damage of the past year could be put right. It wasn’t that his schooling in England had been at fault—it had been that too sudden transition from middle-class comfort into nearpoverty, on top of the horror of losing his father. ‘If you go to school here,’ she promised quickly, ‘I’ll stay too.’ It was a wild promise, she had no clear idea how she was going to keep it, but it seemed worth it to see the new contentment on his face. Somehow she would manage it, she whispered to herself. Somehow ...?
She realised she couldn’t be blamed when Oliver Hurd turned up, later in the day, and didn’t know why she should feel suddenly guilty, as if once again Neil was by her side, silently rebuking her.
‘Neil’s away,’ she exclaimed, jumping in a confused fashion to her feet, leaving the grand piano which she hadn’t been able to resist trying out. Neil hadn’t forbidden her to use this, perhaps because he hadn’t known she played. She had no idea how attractive she looked, her face flushed from her exertions, her fair hair tumbled in a gleaming cascade.
‘I know,’ Oliver smiled with obvious satisfaction. ‘I thought I’d come over and stop you from feeling lonely. Go on playing, Petra,’ he pleaded wistfully. ‘I happen to be quite fond of good music in spite of my rough exterior,’ he joked.
Petra laughed, feeling immediately more comfortable with him than she did with Neil, but she firmly left the piano. Shades of Neil, stalking in unexpectedly and finding her entertaining Oliver, would never allow a natural performance. Besides, as with her guitar, she considered she was sadly out of practice, and Oliver was only one man, not two or three dozen cowboys who stamped and joined merrily in the chorus, hiding the odd mistake.
‘Neil’s gone to Toronto.’ Oliver might know, but it could do no harm to mention it herself. ‘He’ll probably bring his sister home with him. I believe she’s your rather special friend.’
Oliver helped himself to a drink and sat down before replying, apparently having no qualms about making himself comfortable in his neighbour’s house, even while he was absent. ‘Seeing that we’ve known each other since we were rocked in our cradles, I expect it’s inevitable that everyone should think so,’ he rejoined dryly, his eyes on Petra’s uncertain face. ‘She’s apt to be overruled by both her mother and Neil. I don’t think she’s ever allowed to consider how she feels,’ he added, even more sardonically.
‘Don’t you think that girls with that kind of temperament make the best wives, though?’ Petra was somewhat startled to hear herself asking.
She needn’t have worried about indiscretion. Oliver merely glanced at her moodily. ‘For Neil, maybe. He always likes to be top dog, but for myself I’d appreciate a bit more authority. Don’t get me wrong, Petra,’ he muttered, catching her faint air of bewilderment, ‘the way I see it my wife must be able to give me quite a bit of help. I really do need a girl with your kind of spirit, one who wouldn’t let me forget I have work to do.’
Petra swallowed, not knowing whether to be vexed or pleased. ‘Do I strike you as a kind of martinet?’ It wasn’t exactly flattering!
‘Of course not!’ Oliver was swiftly repentant. ‘But you have plenty of guts. Neil would simply crush a girl like you, while I would encourage her. Often I long to meet someone who’d be quite prepared to take some of the weight off my shoulders. Don’t you see?’
Petra thought she did, only too clearly. Oliver Hurd might be a comparatively wealthy young man, but he was also a weak one. He wanted a wife who would look after him, not the other way around. Someone very prepared to run after him, to see to his every comfort. ‘Perhaps you’re mistaken about Janey,’ she said tentatively. ‘I mean, if both her mother and brother are invincible surely some of it must be in Janey? Perhaps it’s too long since you really looked at her?’
CHAPTER SIX
‘No,’ Oliver grimaced ruefully, having no such illusions, ‘she takes after the old man. He was always the weak one of the family, it was common knowledge, in case you think I’d be too young to have known. Neil is entirely different. He was still in his teens when his father died and he’s built the place up into what I’d be willing to bet is almost a millionaire’s spread out of what must have been an outsize mortgage.’
Nervously Petra shuddered, as she averted her eyes from Oliver’s lounging figure. How had she hoped to get the better of a man like that? Herself, a mere girl, whom Neil Cameron could probably snap with two of his steely fingers! ‘What about Mrs. Cameron?’ she stammered.
‘Neil’s own mother died when he was small and the second Mrs. Cameron didn’t arrive until some years later. I don’t think anyone will ever have known exactly what Neil thinks of her, but he certainly keeps her in luxury. She likes to travel, so I guess this keeps her content. She’s rarely at the ranch.’
‘But this is her home, surely?’
‘Baby!’ Oliver laughed lazily. ‘You realise you’re asking me an awful lot of questions which Neil might, not unreasonably, resent. You could be wiser to put your queries to him, if only to be sure of getting the right answers. Don’t tell me you’re scared of him?’
‘What,’ she faltered, colouring faintly, ‘makes you think that?’
‘I’ve seen him at work, his manner isn’t always encouraging,’ Oliver shrugged resignedly. ‘Sometimes I wish I were more like him. He goes right after what he wants and says exactly what he thinks. If I had only the half of his proficiency I’d be satisfied.’
That wasn’t how Petra would have described it! ‘Arrogance, don’t you mean?’
‘I might at that!’ Oliver looked surprised, even appreciative. ‘Don’t tell me I’ve met a woman unwilling to sing his praises?’
For some reason Petra didn’t want to decipher that. ‘He’s been very kind to David and me,’ she said belatedly.
‘I don’t imagine he finds it very difficult to be—kind to you, Petra,’ Oliver mocked dryly. ‘Now, are you going to invite me to stay for dinner or must I go home hungry?’
It wasn’t her place, Petra felt, to ask him to stay at all, and she said so. But she also said she would go and see if Mrs. Allen could make dinner stretch for three. This was all she could promise to do about it. When Mrs. Allen told her she could manage this nicely she felt defeated. After all, in Neil’s absence, mustn’t Mrs. Allen be in charge? Neil had certainly not entrusted this privilege to Petra. Whether or not Mrs. Allen approved of Oliver staying, Petra couldn’t say. Mrs. Allen must surely know all about Neil’s hopes for Janey and Oliver, but she passed no other comment than that it would be nice for Petra to have company.
&
nbsp; And company Petra did have during the following days. Oliver appeared regularly at the ranch, as if he considered it his duty to entertain Petra while Neil was away. He did entertain her, there was no doubt, as he had, like Neil, been around and could talk very amusingly. Twice he took David and her for a short foray into the foothills and sometimes they all went swimming in the lake, one of the many beautiful stretches of water which dotted the area. On these occasions Petra took picnics which Mrs. Allen provided, and when she joined David and Oliver in the water she wore a brief swimsuit which she had fashioned from a short length of material, again supplied by the housekeeper. Altogether Mrs. Allen seemed very willing to oblige when Oliver was around. Petra hoped uneasily she was wrong in the sudden impression she got one day that the woman was doing her best to throw them together.
She was convinced she was just being silly, until one evening after dinner when she followed Oliver into the kitchen. He had insisted on seeking their coffee himself and she fancied she overheard Mrs. Allen telling him the young English miss liked him a lot.
Oliver’s ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken, Mrs. Allen’ had been reassuring enough to squash Petra’s dismayed indignation and she had crept quietly away so they wouldn’t know she’d been there. It was only later that her suspicions had returned. That same evening Oliver, having stayed later than usual, had wanted to kiss her before he left, and she had had to work very hard to convince him she didn’t share his amorous inclinations.
A Man Called Cameron Page 10