'Damn you, Rhyno, let go of me!'
'In a moment,' he promised, his breath fanning her cheek as he lowered his head, 'but not before I've carried out a little experiment.'
She opened her mouth to berate him, and in that moment he captured the full moistness of her lips with his. Rhyno's intimate invasion of her mouth sent a shudder of emotion through her which she would have given anything to suppress, but it was nothing compared to the alien sensations rippling through her when the front catch of her bra snapped beneath his fingers moments before that large hand cupped the smooth swell of her breast. Clinging to her sanity was virtually impossible. She was drugged by his kisses, and his tantalising, feather-light caresses made the blood flow through her veins with a fiery sweetness. She was in the grip of an intoxicating madness, like someone who had had too much wine to drink, and when her wrists were no longer imprisoned she raised her hands to his shoulders, her fingers curling into them for support as well as the sheer pleasure of acquainting herself with their muscled hardness beneath the roughness of his sweater.
He caressed her freely now, his lips and hands drawing from her a response which was almost frightening in its intensity. If there was a lesson to be learned in this, then she was learning it with alarming swiftness. Rhyno's lips seemed to devour hers with a heated passion that seared through her like a flame, igniting a fire within her which he fanned with those maddeningly sensual caresses. Her breasts grew taut beneath the skilful manipulation of his fingers, making her desire known to him in no uncertain manner, and for that one brief moment in time she did not care, then sanity returned with a stinging clarity as Barbara Owen's lovely features leapt into her dulled mind, and Kate was instantly filled with a revulsion which was mainly directed at herself, but it was a revulsion tinged with shame.
'For God's sake, Rhyno, stop it!' she cried in a voice that sounded hoarse, and unfamiliar to her own ears as she thrust him from her and, caught offguard, he released her. A strange fire leapt in his eyes, but other than that he gave her the impression that he had remained emotionally untouched, and she hated him with a new intensity at that moment while she stood there fighting to regain the composure she had lost so completely. 'I suggest you save this kind of thing for Barbara. She may appreciate it, but I certainly don't!'
She saw his hands clenching at his sides, and saw the muscles standing out along the side of his jaw as if he were keeping his anger in check. 'You're a little spitfire, Kate, and it's going to take someone far stronger than Gavin to keep you in check.'
'Someone like you, for instance?' she snapped furiously.
'Someone like myself, yes, but I'm not applying for the position, you little shrew.' His dark, narrowed eyes flicked over her with a certain insolence, taking in her flushed cheeks, her quivering lips still swollen from his kisses, and they lingered at the opening of her blouse where a button had come undone to reveal the enchanting cleft between her breasts. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and her hand rose automatically, her fingers fumbling the button into position, but her action merely invited his mockery and contempt. 'You possess none of the qualities I admire in a woman, and I doubt if you ever will.'
Kate felt for a moment as if she were on fire from her head down to her toes, then a terrible coldness shook through her, but it was not the fear of further humiliation that made her turn and flee from the cellars. She had never felt more like giving way to a fit of uncontrollable weeping, and that would have been the final humiliation. Little sobs tore at her throat as she ran back to the house in the darkness, and it was not until she reached the privacy of her room that she gave way entirely to the choking tears.
It was late that night when Rhyno returned to the house, and it was later still when Kate saw the. strip of light disappear beneath the dressing-room door. Her tears had long since dried on her cheeks, but her thoughts were in too much of a turmoil to sleep. It was not in her nature to lapse into fits of irrational weeping, but then neither was it in her nature to allow men to touch her the way Rhyno had touched her. She had been kissed before, and she had always prided herself on being in complete command of the situation, but in the cellars that evening Rhyno had taken command, and she had been mentally and physically powerless to resist until that moment when sanity had returned to her, in the form of Barbara Owen.
She did not doubt his low opinion of her, he had made that perfectly clear when he had said: 'You possess none of the qualities I admire in a woman, and I doubt if you ever will.'
Kate turned her face into the pillow to stifle a groan. She not only felt cheap, but she was certain that Rhyno considered her in that light, and it had hurt beyond all imagination to hear him reject her so cruelly. She felt confused and bewildered, her mind turning away from the obvious reason for her misery, but when tiredness finally enveloped her it somehow tore down the barriers she had erected with such specific care, and she found herself facing the unpalatable truth.
She was in love with Rhyno.
She had been attracted to him from the very first moment she had looked into his dark, mocking eyes. She had seen the challenge lurking there, and she had accepted it. She had consciously and subconsciously fought against that fatal attraction; she had resented, despised, and had often ridiculed him, but he had stood firm and unperturbed. Their arguments had always ended in her defeat, and now, where the involvement of her heart was concerned, she had been defeated once again. She loved a man who openly despised her as much as she had always professed to despise him, and she wished, for the first time, that she could stretch this year of marriage into an eternity, but the wheel of time would turn relentlessly, and it was Barbara Owen he would turn to the moment the stipulations in her father's will had been fulfilled.
The Stellenbosch wine show was in progress, and Kate was there with Rhyno on that cold June night in the winery's banquet hall when the results were made known. Solitaire had won seven gold medals and four superior awards, while Rhyno's Rose had been judged the most promising new blend of the year. It was truly an occasion which called for a celebration, but Kate had never felt less inclined in that direction.
While Rhyno, in particular, was being congratulated, Kate remained silent, almost withdrawn, and it was only when they arrived back at Solitaire that she turned to face him in the living-room, and said without rancour, 'Thank you, Rhyno.'
'Thank you?' he queried with raised eyebrows, handing her a glass of wine before he poured one for himself and sat down in the vacant chair beside the fire.
'For upholding the standard of Solitaire's wines,' she explained, wanting desperately to break through that barrier of cold animosity which had existed between them since that night he had kissed her in the cellars.
'My dear Kate,' Rhyno began with a hint of tolerance in his voice as he brushed a speck of dust from the sleeve of his dark suit, 'most of the credit goes to your father.'
'Most of it, perhaps, but not all of it,' she conceded, lowering her gaze before his, and staring into the crimson liquid in the glass which she clutched between' nervous fingers. 'Your Rose is well on the way to becoming a gold medallist.'
'It's generous of you to say so.'
The derisive mockery in his voice made her glance up at him, and she risked a smile. 'I'm in a generous mood this evening.'
'Are you?'
'Don't look so suspicious,' she laughed softly, taking a sip of her wine to steady her ridiculous nervousness before she added humorously, 'Even a shrew can be generous at times.'
'Are you flirting with me, Kate?' he asked, his eyes intent upon her face while his mouth twisted with mocking derision, and the laughter within her died instantly.
'To flirt with the devil is to court disaster,' she replied stonily, her fingers tightening about the stem of the glass to hide the fact that they were shaking. 'I was trying to be friendly, but I don't suppose you'll believe that.'
The living-room was silent except for the crackling of the log fire, and the ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the ma
ntelshelf. Kate's nerves felt as if they were being stretched to breaking point, then Rhyno asked abruptly, 'Do you associate me with the devil?'
'Sometimes,' she admitted with a sinking feeling in her breast, then she abruptly changed the subject. 'I miss my father this evening. He would have sat here in this chair, and he would have had every right to look proud and satisfied with himself… and with you.'
Rhyno's eyes flickered strangely beneath the straight, dark brows. 'Don't exclude yourself, Kate.'
'What you said a few weeks ago was true,' she found herself confessing. 'I did withdraw myself from the activities on the estate after your arrival.'
'That shouldn't stop you from feeling proud and self satisfied.'
'I haven't, in all honesty, earned the right,' she grimaced.
'You made up for your lapse this season.'
She studied him intently, but his chiselled features gave nothing away, except perhaps for that very slight softening about his harsh mouth which sent a little warmth spiralling through her. 'I believe you're actually trying to comfort me!'
'You find that strange?'
'As strange as you must have found the thought of my wanting to be friendly,' she smiled hesitantly.
'We could never be friends, Kate.'
'No, I suppose not.' Her smile froze on her lips as she dropped into that black pit of despaire and, placing her glass on the table beside her chair, she got to her feet and draped her coat about her shoulders as she walked away from the fire. At the door she turned to glance back at Rhyno where he sat in his chair with his long legs stretched out before him, and in the flickering light of the fire his features assumed an added touch of cruelty. Their eyes met and held for a brief second, then his gaze slid over her, and she quivered almost as if he had caressed her physically. Afraid of being made a fool of, she turned away, and said an abrupt, 'Goodnight.'
She could not sleep that night. She felt like a spring which had been wound up too tight, and she tossed about in bed, her thoughts leaping wildly from one subject to the other. Rhyno had considered her manner flirtatious. Had she perhaps been flirting with him subconsciously? No, never! If only her father were here, then none of this would have been necessary. Oh, damn! If only she could go to sleep!
The moonlight filtered through the trees outside her window, and the shadows danced against the wall like grotesque little men, darting, leaping in tune to the sighing wind. Kate observed this display intently, trying to make her mind a blank in order to induce sleep, but she failed, and finally got up to put on her dressing-gown. She walked through the darkened house towards the kitchen, the soft mules on her feet barely making a sound, and when she snapped on the kitchen light she stood blinking for a moment until her eyes became accustomed to the sudden brightness. He gaze shifted towards the electric clock against the wall. Twelve-thirty! She grimaced and, taking out a saucepan, poured milk into it and placed it on the stove.
'Can't you sleep?'
She swung round, her eyes wide and dark in her pale face. Rhyno stood leaning against the door jamb, his hands thrust into the pockets of his black towelling robe, and his dark hair falling untidily across his broad forehead.
'No, I—I guess the excitement was too much,' she managed unsteadily, grasping at the first excuse that-entered her head, and turned away from that fatal magnetism which seemed to reach out and enfold her. 'Would you like a mug of cocoa?'
'If it's not too much trouble.'
Ultra-sensitive for some inexplicable reason, she thought she detected sarcasm in his voice, and her temper flared. 'I wouldn't have asked if I'd—' She paused abruptly, bit her lip, and sighed. 'Why are we always snapping at each other?'
'You started.'
'Only because you were sarcastic,' she defended herself.
His eyebrows rose in sardonic amusement. 'Sarcastic? Me?'
'You know you were, and don't deny it,' she accused, her anger rising again as swiftly as it had subsided.
'My dear Kate—'
'And don't speak to me in that lordly tone!' she interrupted sharply.
They glared at each other in silence for interminable seconds, then Rhyno pushed himself away from the door and walked towards her with a look on his face which she could not quite define.
'Perhaps you would prefer it if I didn't speak at all,' he said, pausing directly in front of her and making her intensely aware of the unmistakable virility encased in the height and breadth of him. 'Perhaps there's a more satisfactory way we could communicate.'
'What do you mean?' she asked, her heart hammering hard against her ribs.
'Do you need to be told?' he smiled down at her cynically, and too late she saw the danger lurking in his eyes.
'No, Rhyno!' she gasped protestingly, but one arm had already slipped about her waist to clamp her hard against him, and a hand was in her long silky hair, bunching into a fist at the nape of her neck and preventing her from evading those descending lips.
She steeled herself to endure his brutality, but the sensual pressure of his mouth against hers tore down the barriers of her resistance, and her lips parted in response beneath his before she could stop herself. Her hands clung to his shoulders, aware of the rippling muscles beneath the towelling material, and even as her mind warned her to take care, her body responded to that hand moving in a slow caress down her back. Rhyno moulded her to him effortlessly, his lips straying to her small ear, her pulsating throat, and lower still to the opening of her dressing-gown. His mouth was warm, as warm as his hands, which seemed to be burning her through the silky material, and every nerve and pulse in her body was beginning to throb with a wildness that inflamed her with the most exquisite sensations.
She was released abruptly, and she stared up at Rhyno a little dazedly to see him tilting his head at a listening angle. It was only then that she heard the footsteps approaching the kitchen and, aware that she not only felt but looked emotionally disturbed, she turned towards the stove and made a pretence of concentrating on the saucepan of milk.
'What's going on in this house?' Aunt Edwina demanded sharply. 'At one o'clock in the morning you should both be asleep, but instead you're walking up and down, opening and closing doors, and now I find you in the kitchen!' She paused effectively, but when neither of them responded, she added in a grumbling voice, 'How am I supposed to get a few hours of rest with all this activity going on in the house?'
'We apologise, Aunt Edwina, but it's the excitement,' Rhyno replied, explaining briefly what had occurred at the wine show.
'This calls for a celebration, it seems,' Aunt Edwina announced, seating herself at the table. 'If you're making cocoa, Kate, then I'll have some as well.'
Kate sighed inwardly. 'Yes, Aunt Edwina.'
'Tell me everything, Rhyno,' Edwina insisted, gesturing him into a chair close to her while Kate poured an extra amount of milk into the saucepan.
While Rhyno and Aunt Edwina discussed the show, Kate made the cocoa and tried desperately not to reveal how shaken she was by what had occurred between Rhyno and herself mere seconds before Aunt Edwina had entered the kitchen. Each time he kissed her was a revelation in itself, and it left her with her emotions as scattered as the leaves beneath the trees when the wind had whirled through it. Rhyno, it seemed, had remained unmoved, and Kate finally observed him over the rim of her mug while he talked to her aunt. His chiselled features revealed no flaw, and no weakness one could pinpoint. His jaw was square, and set permanently with an inner determination which she had become aware of from their very first meeting. The mouth was stern, despite the hint of sensuality in the lower lip, and her own lips tingled at the memory of that warm mouth against her own.
Almost as if he had been aware of her observation, Rhyno turned his head and their glances collided: Kate's cheeks went pink, and she looked away hastily, cursing herself for being caught staring, but Rhyno continued speaking as if nothing had happened.
'Jacques would have been so proud,' Edwina announced when Rhyno fell silent, th
en she glanced at him anxiously. 'By the way, Rhyno, there was a call from, Barbara this evening, and she asked if you would give her a ring first thing in the morning.'
'Thank you, I'll do that.'
Just like that, Kate thought, not quite sure whether it was anger or jealousy flaring so hotly in her veins. Barbara raised her little finger, and Rhyno came running. It was disgusting, it was degrading, and… oh, how Kate wished he would look at her just once as if he liked her!
'Well, I'm off to bed,' said Aunt Edwina, getting to her feet and pushing her chair under the table. 'I need my sleep even if you two don't.'
Kate collected the mugs in silence after Aunt Edwina had left. She rinsed them out and poured water into the saucepan. She felt nervous and edgy with Rhyno watching every move she made, and her heart almost stopped beating when she turned eventually and found his large frame blocking her path towards the door. He had a look in his eyes that told her he had intentions of taking up where they had left off at Aunt Edwina's entrance, but she was not going to fall into that trap again; not while he was still at Barbara Owen's beck and call.
'Don't touch me!' she snapped, stepping beyond the reach of his hands. 'Whatever else you may think of me, I refuse to be your plaything!'
'What's got into you now?' he growled, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his robe and glowering at her from beneath his dark brows.
'Simply this,' she stated coldly. 'I don't wish to be mauled by you again.'
She did not wait to witness the result of her statement and, darting round the opposite side of the table, marched out of the kitchen and left him standing there, but she felt the burning fury of his eyes on her back moments before she slipped out of the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kate was seated behind her father's old desk in the study, sorting through a pile of papers the following morning, when Rhyno opened the door and walked in.
Late Harvest Page 10