'I'd be delighted if you would have dinner with me,' Hunter remarked quietly, surprising Jennifer still further.
'There, you see?' Alice exclaimed triumphantly, but when Jennifer continued to hesitate, she added persuasively, 'It would please me very much if you would accept Hunter's invitation.'
Jennifer could not look at the man standing so motionless beside her. She felt as if she had been driven into a corner and, sighing inwardly, she relented. 'Very well, Mrs Maynard, you win.'
'Good,' Alice smiled delightedly. 'Now go, please, and leave me to get some rest.'
When Jennifer stood facing Hunter outside Alice's door moments later, she was forced to meet his glance, but his face was expressionless, and those narrowed eyes shuttered.
'I'll make the necessary arrangements, and meet you here within an hour,' he said in a clipped voice, then he turned on his heel and strode towards the lift..
Jennifer could think of nothing she wanted less than having to spend an evening in Hunter's company. The mere thought of it terrified her, and her stomach felt as if it had been twisted into a painful knot when it was eventually time for her to go out and meet him. She took one last look at herself in the mirror to satisfy herself that she was dressed suitably for the occasion, and she was trying desperately to control the trembling of her limbs when she stepped out into the passage to find Hunter waiting for her.
His wide-shouldered appearance in his dark, impeccably tailored evening suit had a devastating effect on her nervous system, but it was the brooding intensity of his eyes that had such an odd effect on her breathing. His glance travelled slowly and systematically down the length of her, taking in the emerald green silk of her dress, and leaving her with the alarming feeling that he had stripped her down to her skin. It was a shattering experience, and it left her feeling heated and flustered. His lips twitched, as if he was fully aware of her discomfort, then his hand was beneath her elbow, and he was guiding her towards the lift.
In the close confines of the lift cage which was bearing them upwards to the night-club on the tenth floor, Jennifer studied Hunter unobtrusively. There was something different about him this evening; a subtle sensuality of movement perhaps, and it disturbed her intensely, making her aware of her femininity in a way he had never done before.
She wished he would say something; anything to relieve the tense silence between them, but the doors of the lift slid open at that moment, and some of the tension eased. A red-coated steward ushered them to a table in the already crowded room, and Hunter ordered a bottle of wine to be brought to their table while they waited for the meal he had ordered.
Facing each other across the candlelit table, they discussed his mother's progress in detail while they sipped their wine. It was a safe topic, but when their meal was eventually placed before them the conversation took a turn towards the personal.
'You seemed rather reluctant to dine with me this evening,' he remarked mockingly. 'Did you plan to spend your evening with someone else, perhaps?'
'Don't be silly,' she said, still fighting down her nervousness. 'I don't know anyone here in Port Elizabeth.'
'I was merely speculating,' he observed dryly, but she sensed that he did not quite believe her.
'If you must know, I was reluctant to accept your invitation because I felt that your mother had forced your hand.'
'I'd like to set your mind at rest on that score,' he replied, his compelling gaze meeting hers. 'I had my invitation ready, but my mother merely beat me to it.'
Jennifer observed him through lowered lashes. 'I don't think I can believe that.'
'Please yourself,' he shrugged, his mouth tightening.
'Now I've annoyed you.'
'I've never met a more annoying woman in my life, but I dare say I'll survive the evening,' he remarked caustically.
'Mr Maynard, I—'
'Hunter,' he interrupted, his eyes glittering strangely as they met hers. 'I thought we'd dispensed with formalities the other evening.'
'I don't—' she began in something close to anger, then she faltered, blushed, and swallowed nervously.
'You were going to say?'
'I can't remember,' she shook her head, lowering her eyes to her plate. 'I don't suppose it was important.'
'I don't suppose it was,' he mocked her faintly, and when she looked up at him suspiciously, he leaned towards her across the table and said: 'You have lovely eyes, Jenny, but I wonder sometimes what lies hidden beneath those cool depths.'
'Why do you call me Jenny?' she asked, slanting a curious glance at him.
'I like the sound of it.' A faint smile touched his usually stern mouth. 'Do you mind?'
She shook her head and swallowed down the lump which had risen unexpectedly to her throat. 'The only one who ever called me Jenny was my father.'
A gleam of mockery lit his eyes. 'I hope you don't think of me as your father.'
'That was the farthest thought from my mind,' she assured him stiffly. 'You're not at all what I would call a father image.'
'Do I sense a veiled insult there somewhere?'
'What I said was not meant as an insult.'
He held her glance effortlessly for a moment before he concentrated once more on his food, and Jennifer followed his example without much enthusiasm.
'Tell me about your family,' he said at length, and Jennifer glanced up at him with a measure of surprise in her wide hazel eyes.
'My parents died some years ago, but I have a sister who lives in Johannesburg.'
His eyebrows rose mockingly. 'Is that all there is to tell?'
Jennifer stared down at her plate and frowned. 'My family history is about as uninteresting as this leatherised piece of steak.'
'Shall I order something else for you?' Hunter asked at once, but she shook her head hastily.
'I'm not very hungry.'
'Neither am I,' he admitted just as the band resumed its playing and, holding out his hand towards her, he asked, 'Shall we dance instead?'
She was tempted to refuse, but she could not ignore the challenge in his eyes as they met hers and, praying that her nervousness would not show, she placed her hand in his.
Hunter held her close, too. close, as he guided her expertly among several other couples who had ventured on to the floor. Their bodies touched, and an awareness sparked between them as it had never done before. She tried to draw away, but his arm tightened about her waist, and the spark became a flame, melting her rigidness until she relaxed against him to enjoy this brief moment of closeness they shared. There would not be another moment like this for her; she dared not allow it, and neither would she encourage it.
Hunter's nearness was a bitter-sweet agony that brought back memories of the Spring Ball two nights ago, and the one dance they had shared because she had been afraid that he might find Carla and Stanley embracing in the garden. What had happened that night after the dance was something she dared not think about, but she was incapable of curbing her thoughts, and her mind conjured up every single incident until her skin tingled with the memory of his touch. Her pulse quickened and, angry with herself, she faltered.
'Is something wrong?' Hunter asked at once, and she raised her glance no higher than his hard jaw.
'I think I'd like to return to our table, if you don't mind.'
She was relieved that he did not question her further, but merely slipped his hand beneath her elbow to guide her back to their table, and to the meal they had left practically untouched. He picked up the bottle of wine and filled up their glasses, but as they raised them to their lips, their eyes met and held. Jennifer experienced an odd feeling of suspension and, holding her breath, she sustained his probing glance as if it were the lifeline which would prevent her from falling. His eyes flickered strangely, and his chiselled mouth curved in that faint suggestion of a smile, then his glance travelled down to where her pulse was beating erratically at the base of her throat, and lower still to where her small breasts were now straining against the silk
of her dress.
A wave of heat surged into her cheeks, and she took a quick sip of wine to steady herself, but her hand was shaking to such an extent that she almost spilled some of the liquid on to the tablecloth. 'Damn Hunter!' she thought angrily and, keeping her gaze averted, she tried to regain what was left of her composure. It was not new to her, this power he had to disturb her usually calm disposition, but she dared not let him know what a fool she had been to lay her heart at his feet.
The lights were dimmed, an indication that the floor show was about to begin and, moments later, a curvaceous young woman was caught in the spotlight as she stepped on to the low platform. The band leader called her 'Louella', and then the introduction was played to the song she was to sing. Her voice, Jennifer discovered, had an attractive, husky quality to it which was suited to the words of the song. It lured and enticed, and Jennifer felt certain that there was not a man in that room who did not feel that the song had been intended for him alone. Jennifer glanced covertly at Hunter, but his face remained impassive, so she returned her attention to the girl who had dislodged the microphone from its stand to move in and out among the tables. Her dress was of a shimmering gold material which was slit up the sides to expose shapely thighs, and it was cut daringly low at the neckline to reveal the curve of her breasts.
Jennifer could hardly restrain her surprise when the singer paused beside their table some moments later. With her blonde hair falling in a seductive veil across her face, Louella sang her song for Hunter alone. Jennifer held her breath, but Hunter did not bat an eyelid as the girl slid a caressing hand along his arm to his shoulder, and her voice became throatier as she leaned towards him with an alluring smile on her lips, giving him an unstinted view of her bulging breasts. Hunter did not waste the opportunity either, Jennifer noticed, but, unlike the others, he did not place his hand on her curvaceous hips in an effort to entice her on to his lap. He appeared to be totally unmoved by the little act which was being played out solely for him, and neither did he display the slightest sign of emotion when Louella perched herself brazenly on his knee to run her fingers through his crisp dark hair.
More than a little horrified, Jennifer observed this embarrassing display intently, and it was at this point that Hunter's glance met hers. There was no time to conceal her disgust, and the mocking light in his eyes told her that he had glimpsed it, but suddenly she did not care. He could know exactly what she thought of the entire distasteful incident.
Louella slid off his lap and moved on with obvious reluctance to a table a little distance from theirs, but she did not repeat her performance, and her eyes darted back continuously to Hunter's broad-shouldered, imposing frame. Slowly, her hips swaying in time to the beat of the music, she made her way back to the platform, and when the song finally ended she opened her arms wide to receive the applause which was enthusiastic and prolonged.
The lights came on once more, and that, Jennifer hoped, would be the last they would see of the seductive Louella, but she was mistaken. That curvaceous body in the revealing, shimmering dress was making its way towards their table, and Jennifer stiffened automatically.
'Hello, Hunter,' the girl said with unbelievable familiarity, her silvery blonde hair swinging freely about her naked shoulders, and Jennifer almost choked on her surprise. 'I never imagined I'd see you here of all places. What brings you to Port Elizabeth?'
'My mother had to see a specialist,' Hunter explained briefly, pulling up a chair for her and seeing her seated.
'Oh, yes, I'd heard about the nasty fall she'd had,' Louella replied vaguely, then those heavily made up eyes studied Jennifer with a speculative gleam in their cool depths before focussing on Hunter once more. 'You're a sly one, I must say. The last time I saw you, you had that dark-haired little Carla spitting fire darts at us, but here I find you with someone else altogether.'
Hunter made the introductions in his usual formal manner and explained, 'Jennifer is taking care of my mother.'
Louella promptly lost interest in Jennifer, but Jennifer felt embarrassingly conspicuous with almost the entire room's attention being focussed on them. After all, the singer's anatomy was of the kind most men would admire when they thought their wives were not looking.
'Hunter, darling,' that husky voice was purring, 'when I was booked to sing at one of your Oudtshoorn hotels, I thought I was going to be bored to tears until I met you, but I never imagined we would meet again, and most certainly not here in Port Elizabeth.' A manicured hand sought his across the table. 'How long are you staying?'
'We leave for Oudtshoorn tomorrow morning.'
'How fortuitous!' Louella exclaimed delightedly. 'I have to be in Plettenberg Bay tomorrow evening. Do you think you could give me a lift?'
Jennifer held her breath, but Hunter glanced beyond the girl and back. 'I think the band leader is trying to catch your eye, Louella.'
'I sing my last number at eleven-thirty,' the girl said, rising from her chair and not pursuing the subject of the lift, but her smile was inviting as she added: 'If you've nothing better to do round about the time I finish here, come up to my room and we'll have a party for two.' . Jennifer had never felt more like an unwanted third and, without so much as a glance in her direction, Louella returned to the platform to proceed with her next number.
'Come on,' Hunter said abruptly, and when Jennifer's questioning glance met his, he said: 'We're going for a drive.'
She could feel the anger in his touch as he placed her silk wrap about her shoulders, but she did not question it. She knew the reason, she told herself, and jealousy such as she had never known before shot like a searing flame through her. He wanted to be with Louella, but instead he was saddled with someone he had never particularly liked.
The air was cool and fresh outside, and Hunter did not drive far before parking his Mercedes in the well-lit street, then he turned towards her abruptly and asked, 'Do you feel like stretching your legs?'
Jennifer nodded and climbed out of the car to feel the tangy air of the sea against her face. If she closed her eyes she could almost believe she was in Cape Town, she thought as Hunter took her arm and led her across the busy street.
'Where are we going?' she asked curiously.
'I believe there's an interesting walk through Happy Valley.' He glanced at her briefly and mockingly. 'Feel like risking it with me?'
'I could do with some fresh air and exercise,' she replied with forced casualness, looking ahead of her to where the coloured lights marked out the winding paths among the trees and shrubs.
They were not the only people to enjoy this picturesque walk, but Jennifer kept a safe distance between Hunter and herself as they strolled past lily ponds and miniature waterfalls. They walked in silence, but she was aware of him with every fibre of her being, and her nerves vibrated each time his arm brushed against hers accidentally.
They crossed a small wooden bridge and strolled into the deepening shadows beyond it, but her heart almost leapt out of her breast when she felt his hand gripping her waist while he edged her farther into the shadows with his body. She guessed his intentions, and although every part of her yearned for his lips and his arms, she twisted herself free and placed a safe distance between them once again.
'If you don't mind I'd prefer to keep on walking,' she said quickly when she sensed that he was about to reach for her again, and as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she saw his arms drop to his sides.
'What are you afraid of, Jenny?' he mocked her. 'Me… or yourself?'
She still felt raw inside at the memory of the humiliation she had suffered at his hands barely two nights ago, and she said tritely, 'I didn't come here with you to be mauled.'
The electrifying silence was disturbed only by the faint sound of the surf, then Hunter asked harshly, 'Why did you come with me, then? Did you think I'd be content to walk next to you all the way without attempting to touch you?'
She was angry now; angry with herself because of the longing within her
which she could not suppress entirely, and angry with Hunter for imagining she would fall into his arms at the drop of a hat, and when she finally spoke her voice was bitingly cold.
'If you're in need of physical excitement, Hunter, then I suggest you accept Louella's invitation.'
'You know, that's what I like about women like Louella,' he told her gratingly after another frightening silence had prevailed. 'They don't pretend to be what they're not.'
'Then you're welcome to her.'
'Thank you,' he said crushingly. 'I was hoping you would say that.'
His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arm, and she was practically dragged all the way back to where he had parked his car. He was furious, she knew that, but she could not understand why. If he had wanted to be with Louella he had only needed to say so without creating that unpleasant scene. Why he should be angry now that his plan had succeeded, she had no idea, but then, she supposed, she would never understand Hunter entirely. It pleased him, perhaps, to hurt her, and if that had been his objective, then he had succeeded admirably.
When they reached the hotel Hunter said an abrupt 'Goodnight' to her in the foyer, and she was left to make her own way up to the third floor in the lift. In the privacy of her room she tried to ease the tension from her body, but it returned the moment her glance fell on her travelling clock which she had placed on the bedside cupboard.
Eleven-thirty! Louella had said that she sang her last number at eleven-thirty, and they had returned just in time for Hunter to join her for the intimate little party in her bedroom.
'Oh, God!' Jennifer groaned as she fell across the bed and buried her face in the pillows. Nothing made sense any more. Carla had made it quite clear that she was going to marry Hunter, yet at the first available opportunity she was languishing in Stanley's arms. Hunter, it seemed, was not particular in whose arms he found himself, and heaven only knew what kind of loyalty he and Carla had sworn to. One thing was clear, however. He might despise all women, but he obviously could not do without them.
The Spotted Plume Page 11