'How did you know that?' she asked in surprise.
'We all know about the nursing Sister who's looking after Mrs Maynard until she's well again, and I asked Hunter what your name was.'
'Oh,' she managed, at a loss for words.
'I'm a guide at the Cango Caves,' Dirk Pienaar enlightened her with a flashing smile. 'You must come to the caves before you return to Cape Town and, remember, ask for me.' His smile broadened as he added with some arrogance, 'I'm the best guide they have.'
'I shall remember to ask for you,' she promised with a hint of humour in her voice, and some minutes later he was accompanying her back to her table.
Dirk seemed keen to keep her company when he realised that she would be alone at the table, but she discouraged him, and when he returned to his own table, she slipped outside to enjoy a refreshing stroll in the motel's lush, scented garden.
Keeping to the shadows, Jennifer walked a little distance from the dance hall to escape some of the noise. The grass was soft beneath her feet, muting her footsteps as she approached the two figures standing close together in the darkness beyond a tall shrub. They were totally oblivious of her approach, and Jennifer, too, was unaware of their presence until the sound of Carla's enraptured voice brought her to an abrupt halt a little distance from them.
'Oh, Stan, Stan!' Carla was whispering urgently. 'Hold me! Kiss me, please!'
Stanley's soft, intoxicated laugh reached Jennifer's shocked ears, and he followed it up by murmuring huskily, 'You're a little devil, Carla, my love.'
Jennifer shrank farther into the shadows as she witnessed the two figures melting into one. Afraid to move, and sick with disgust, she remained where she was for a moment longer. They had planned this, Jennifer knew it now. They had known that during the course of the evening they would have the opportunity to be alone together, and Hunter had obviously given them that opportunity, although unsuspectingly. Jennifer came to her senses as Hunter's image leapt into her mind, and it was the thought of him that made her retrace her steps as quickly, and as silently as she could manage in her distressed state.
To her horror, Hunter was the first person she met when she reached the terrace. In her haste she collided with him in the shadows, and she was pale and shaken when he steadied her on her feet.
'Have you seen Carla?' he asked abruptly, looking at a point somewhere beyond her creamy shoulder.
'Well, I—no, I'm afraid I haven't,' she lied desperately, hating Carla for what she was obviously doing to Hunter.
'I shall have to look for her, then,' he announced, and she went cold with fright when she thought of him striding unsuspectingly in the direction of the garden where Carla and Stanley could possibly still be locked in each other's arms.
'Hunter…' The use of his name was unintentional, but it stopped him in his stride, and when he turned slowly to face her, her frantic mind could think of only one possible way to prevent him from walking in on that little scene she had witnessed moments ago. 'I know it's late, and almost time to return home,' she smiled up at him shakily, and, she hoped, persuasively. 'But you owe me a dance, I think.'
His eyebrows rose mockingly. 'It's customary for the man to ask the woman, not vice versa.'
'I know,' she said, her cheeks burning. She hated herself for being so brazen, but she had started something which she had to finish. 'Are you going to refuse me?'
For a moment it seemed as if he were going to do exactly that, then he smiled twistedly. 'Never let it be said that I refused a woman something she wanted badly enough to ask for.'
The sardonic gleam in his eyes told her exactly what he was thinking when he led her on to the dance floor, but she would rather have him think the worst of her, than to be disillusioned by the one girl he seemed to trust.
Questions for which she could find no answers ricocheted through her mind, but not for long. Hunter's hand was firm and warm against the hollow of her back while they danced in perfect unison to the dreamy beat of the music. No girl in her right mind could be this close to Hunter without being aware of him as a man, and Jennifer was no exception. Carla and Stanley no longer claimed priority in her thoughts when Hunter drew her closer until their bodies became fused together. She could not think, anyway, with several volts of electricity charging through her. His thighs brushed against hers, while his masculine cologne stirred her senses, and his nearness was suddenly more intoxicating than several glasses of wine could ever have been.
This was crazy! Jennifer told herself, but she definitely felt lightheaded, and the sensual touch of his hand against her back did not improve matters as he guided her steps expertly and silently across the crowded floor.
She found herself wishing that this moment would go on .for ever, but the music ended abruptly, and just as abruptly Hunter released her. His hooded glance met hers, but only briefly, then he took her arm and guided her back to their table.
To Jennifer's relief they found Carla and Stanley waiting for them, and no one, not even Jennifer, would have guessed that anything had happened between them if she had not witnessed it with her own eyes some minutes ago. It sickened her, this deceit, and she had lost a great deal of her respect for Stanley, as well as for Carla, in the process.
'Come on, Carla,' Hunter said abruptly. 'It's time I took you home.'
'Oh, but darling,' Carla pouted with an injured look on her lovely face, 'you're surely going to have one more dance with me before we go?'
'You've missed out, my dear,' Hunter remarked dryly as he picked up her wrap and draped it about her shoulders. 'I've already had the last dance for the evening, and now it's time to go home.'
His tone of voice did not encourage an argument, and Carla relented with a surprising meekness to his demands.
'I think I'd like to go home as well, Stanley,' Jennifer said quickly, picking up her own wrap and evening purse.
'Sure,' Stanley nodded, and Jennifer was mildly surprised to see that he was still steady on his feet as they followed Hunter and Carla from the building to where their cars were parked.
They were some distance out of town when Stanley glanced at Jennifer and said casually, 'You're very quiet.'
'I'm troubled,' she confessed and, turning slightly in her seat to face him, she said accusingly, 'I happened to see you with Carla in the garden this evening.'
'Oh,' he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he stared straight ahead of him to where the twin beams of the car sliced through the darkness. 'I can explain, Jennifer.'
'I wish you would,' she replied crossly.
'Carla's really the biggest flirt there is, and it's very difficult for a man to resist her, you know.'
Jennifer's faintly cynical smile went unnoticed. 'It didn't seem to me as if you were trying very hard to resist her advances. It seemed, in fact, as if you were offering as much encouragement as you were receiving.'
'You're mistaken, Jennifer,' he argued with a laugh that sounded forced. 'I can only plead that I was a little lightheaded.'
'You're admitting, then, that you had too much to drink this evening?'
'Yes, Sister Casey, I'm admitting it,' he replied unashamedly, and drove on in silence for quite some time before he said hesitantly, 'You won't tell Hunter about—about what you saw, will you?'
His weakness had invited her sympathy before, but now she despised him for it as she said stiffly, 'He wouldn't believe me even if I did.'
'You're right, he wouldn't,' Stanley laughed, sounding a little more confident, and he did not speak again until he had parked his car in front of Vogelsvlei's homestead. 'Are you angry with me, Jennifer?' he asked now, his hand on her arm preventing her from getting out of the car.
'Disappointed is the word,' she said coldly. 'I'd credited you with more sense.'
'I'm sorry.'
'So am I.'
Twisting her arm free of his clasp, she wished him a cool 'goodnight' and, slipping out of his car, she hurried up the steps to the front door.
Despite the late ho
ur, Jennifer could not fall asleep that night. She tossed about restlessly in her bed until long after she had heard Hunter enter the house, and she finally decided to seek a little fresh air in the hope of clearing her mind of the thoughts that churned through it.
The night air was cool against her flushed face when she stepped out on to the balcony, and her fingers automatically tightened the belt of her silk robe about her slim waist. The moon was full in the star-clustered sky, but it was Carla and Stanley who occupied her thoughts at that moment, and not the enchantment of the moonlit night.
If only she could know what they were up to, then she might find some way of warning Hunter. If only—what futile words! Hunter would never believe her, and in the end her intentions would be misconstrued. He was indeed a fool to put his trust in Carla if she could deceive him with so little effort, but there was nothing Jennifer could do about it, and he would, in the end, be hurt once again.
Something, a sound perhaps, made her realise that she was no longer alone, and she turned warily to see Hunter, still fully clothed except for his jacket, walking towards her in the moonlit darkness of the balcony.'
'It appears we both have the same problem,' he remarked mockingly when he reached her side. 'Couldn't you sleep?'
'No,' she replied, conscious of being dressed only in her night attire with a thin robe as protection, and of the uneven beat of her treacherous heart.
'One way and another this evening wasn't quite a success, was it.'
'No.'
'Were you hoping that I'd take your flirtation seriously?'
'No!' she cried fiercely, grateful that he could not see the flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.
'I don't particularly care for one-sided conversations,' he remarked caustically.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered and, unable to bear his disturbing nearness a moment longer, she turned and fled towards her room.
'Jenny!'
His voice stopped her on the threshold, and she turned to see him approach her slowly, his tall frame silhouetted against the velvety night sky. No one, since her father's death, had ever called her 'Jenny' and, coming from Hunter, who had never addressed her in any other form but 'Sister Casey', it sounded odd, yet somehow pleasing.
He was standing directly in front of her now, the masculine scent of his body filling her nostrils and stirring her senses madly as he raised a hand to finger the silken strands of her honey-gold hair which was hanging loose and rather untidily about her shoulders. For one who had insisted that she kept her hair tied up in a rigid knot on her head, he seemed to be finding enjoyment in running his strong fingers through it.
Jennifer's heart was beating so fast now that she could hardly breathe when she felt the sensual pressure of his fingers against the nape of her neck. His breath mingled with hers as he murmured her name once more, then his mouth found hers with a potent sensuality that parted her lips and drove every scrap of rational thought from her mind. His free arm was about her waist, moulding her soft contours to the hard length of his body, and she felt again that electrifying current of turbulent emotions surging through her.
'This is wrong,' the voice of her conscience warned, but his hand had slipped inside the opening of her silk robe to seek the soft swell of her breast beneath the lace of her nightgown, and the voice of her conscience was abruptly silenced by the pleasurable sensations rippling through her receptive body.
She was only vaguely conscious now of being urged backwards into her room, and it was only when she felt herself going down on to her bed, with Hunter on top of her, that she started to protest. His lips, however, trailed a path of destruction across one smooth shoulder down to her breast which had been exposed by his impatient, probing hand, and quite suddenly all desire to resist deserted her.
'Hunter!' she breathed his name ecstatically, no longer conscious of what she was doing as she wrapped her eager arms about his strong neck and clung to him rapturously.
His tantalising, feather-light caresses awakened her to a new urgency spiralling through her heated body; an urgency and a need which was rising swiftly to match his, but when she felt his hand sliding possessively up along her smooth, naked thigh, she came to her senses with a violent start.
'Don't!' she begged huskily, struggling beneath him now. 'Please, don't!'
Hunter drew away from her slightly, but he did not release her entirely. She could not read the expression in his shadowed face above her own, but when he spoke the mockery in his voice sliced through her like a heated blade.
'You play the part of the frightened virgin to perfection. Others may believe you, but you don't really fool me.'
Her hand rose involuntarily to strike him, but hard fingers fastened on to her slender wrist, and the pressure they exerted made her cry out in pain.
'You lifted your hand to me once before,' he said gratingly, 'but this time you're going to pay for trying to repeat the performance.'
His hard mouth came down on to hers in a savage kiss that bruised her soft lips, and brought tears to her eyes, but the punishment did not end there. His hands were rough as they roamed over her body to inflict pain, and to insult her in the most humiliating way. She tried to cry out, to beg for mercy, but, with his mouth against hers, her cry was nothing but a low groan deep down in her aching throat. She fought him off with every particle of strength she possessed, but her treacherous body finally responded to the violation of his hands, and he did not cease his intimate caresses until she found herself trembling on the brink of a desire that filled her with the aching, and alien, need for fulfilment.
Her hands moved of their own volition to seek the smooth, hard flesh of his muscled shoulders beneath his shirt, and her body arched towards his in abject surrender. She had gone beyond the point of caring, knowing for the first time in her life the desire to be possessed by a man, but Hunter had achieved what he had set out to accomplish and, thrusting her from him, he rose to his feet to tower over her in the darkness.
'Goodnight, Sister Casey,' he said with a savage mockery in his voice that made her flinch visibly. 'I hope you sleep well.'
He was gone before she could reply, leaving her shaking uncontrollably from head to foot as if with the fever. She was, at first, bewildered and confused by what had occurred, but when her emotions plummeted sickeningly, she wept tears of humiliation and despair. She felt degraded and cheap, and she hated him for doing this to her, but she hated herself more for being so weak.
CHAPTER SEVEN
They left Vogelsvlei early on the Monday morning and headed towards Port Elizabeth where Alice Maynard was to see the specialist Dr Tremayne had called in to her initially. As before, Jennifer sat in front with Hunter, leaving Alice to herself on the back seat, but on this occasion Jennifer felt more than just slightly uncomfortable. She had lived through an awkward Sunday during which she had tried unsuccessfully to stay out of Hunter's way, and even now she still squirmed inwardly at the memory of the passion he had aroused with such ease within her.
Jennifer spoke very little throughout the journey. It took them several hours, and she was relieved when at last they booked into an expensive-looking hotel on the Port Elizabeth beach-front. Jennifer and Alice were both given rooms on the third floor, while Hunter was shown to a room on the fourth, but there was very little time to look around, and, after a quick lunch, Jennifer accompanied Hunter and his mother to the Medical Centre in the heart of the city.
Alice Maynard was nervous, Jennifer could tell this by the way she moved jerkily on her crutches when the receptionist accompanied her into the examination room, and some of her nervousness transferred itself to Jennifer, who sat stiffly in her chair in the spacious waiting-room. Hunter sat facing her, but he had buried himself behind a magazine, and it was only when he lit a cigarette that she realised he was just as anxious as she.
The examination had lasted not more than a half hour, but to Jennifer it had felt like hours, and Alice Maynard's exhausted appearance indicated that it had fe
lt the same to her. They glanced at her questioningly, but she gestured them to silence, and it was a sombre trio who drove away from the Medical Centre minutes later.
'It's nothing serious,' Alice assured Jennifer when she glimpsed the anxiety in her eyes. 'I'm merely too tired to talk.'
Jennifer sighed inwardly with relief, and settled down in her seat. It was only when they reached the hotel and had ushered Alice up to her room that they questioned her in earnest.
'What's the verdict?' Hunter asked now, his voice abrupt, and some of his anxiety still clearly visible in the taut line of his hard jaw.
Alice Maynard leaned back in her easy chair and closed her eyes. 'A full report will be sent to Dr Tremayne, but the specialist considers me well enough to try using walking sticks in future instead of these cumbersome crutches.' She opened her eyes suddenly and smiled up at them. 'He said that my hip has healed perfectly, but that I still had to take care.'
'That means that I shall have to think of returning to Cape Town,' Jennifer smiled down at her, but the smile was not echoed in her heart.
'Not yet, Jennifer,' Alice protested at once. 'I don't think I'm ready yet to do without your assistance.'
'Of course you are,' Jennifer contradicted gently. 'You hardly need my assistance at the moment as it is.'
'And who, do you think, will help me with my exercises?'
'You no longer need those vigorous exercises, Mrs Maynard, and you know that,' Jennifer reminded her.
'Don't argue with me, Jennifer,' Alice complained. 'I'm tired, and I think I'll have dinner sent up to my room this evening.'
Jennifer nodded. 'That's a good idea.'
'Why don't you take Jennifer to dinner this evening, Hunter?' Alice surprised Jennifer with her suggestion to her son. 'The hotel has an excellent night-club, and there's usually a dance band playing for those who want to dance.'
'Mrs Maynard, please!' Jennifer begged, flushing with embarrassment and not daring to glance in Hunter's direction. 'I'm perfectly capable of amusing myself for the evening, and there's no need for—'
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