Dark Awakening

by Sally Wentworth

  'Darling!' He took her in his arms and kissed her, oblivious of everyone around them. 'You don't know how much I've longed for this moment, to look at you again, touch you, convince myself that you're real.'

  Minta laughed shakily. 'I feel exactly the same way. Don't let me go, will you?'

  'I promise.' He tucked her arm through his. 'Let's go in the bar and have a drink while we decide what to eat.' They sat down and were given menus to study, but neither of them was really interested. Dane kept a tight hold on her hand and said, 'I'm sorry I was late. I had a hell of a job getting away from my meeting, and then I got held up in the traffic. I was cursing every moment it kept me away from you.'

  'You haven't told me yet why you're in England,' Minta reminded him.

  He shrugged off the question. 'Just family business. But the point is, my love, that I can only stay here ten days at the most, then I simply must go back to the Canaries.'

  'Only ten days?' She looked at him in dismay.

  'Yes. Of course I have various business meetings fixed up that I have to go to, but I'll spend as much time with you as I can.' The waiter came up to take their order and they realised they hadn't even looked at the menu. Dane glanced at it abstractedly. 'Oh—we'll have the salmon, followed by tournedos and whatever vegetables are in season. Is that okay with you, darling?'

  'Yes, anything.' Minta was overcome by the way he called her darling so naturally, as if they'd known each other for years; and anyway she was sure she wouldn't be able to eat anything.

  The huge dining-room of the Cumberland Hotel was already crowded and neither of them minded being shown to a small table tucked into an alcove where they could hold hands across the table and forget everyone else around them.

  'Ten days is an awfully short time,' Minta said unhappily.

  'But it could be enough,' Dane pointed out, looking at her steadily, 'if you'll trust me.'

  'Enough—for what?' But she already knew what he was going to say and her heart began to race crazily.

  'For us to get married.' He brought both his hands to cover hers. 'Darling, I know it's rushing you, but what is there to wait for? I'm sure in my own mind, and if you are too…'

  'I am,' she assured him. 'But it's Daddy. He's bound to object at our only knowing each other such a short time. Couldn't we wait perhaps a couple of months? You could come back to England as often as you can.'

  'Do you want to wait a couple of months?' Dane asked softly, his eyes frankly caressing.

  'Minta gulped. 'No. Oh, no!'

  'And it might not be possible,' he sighed. 'If my business in London is successful, then yes, I'll be able to come back here after a few weeks. But if it's not then I'll have to go to Spain and France, and possibly America, before I'll be free to come to England again.'

  Minta's face paled. 'How long would all that take?'

  He shrugged rather helplessly. 'It could be months.'

  Their food came, but neither of them had an appetite. Minta felt close to tears; to have found such wonderful happiness and then to have to so soon face being separated for an indefinite length of time was more than she could bear. 'When will you know?' she asked, clutching at straws.

  'Not for nearly a week.' His grey eyes searched her face and his hand gripped hers. 'In a week we could be married.'

  Minta's throat went dry as she stared back at him. She wished they were married now. She wished they could go up to his room and make love. Never had she known such intense physical desire. It made her hand tremble and her heart race. And she knew then that she would marry Dane next week, whatever the outcome of his business deals, because there was no way she was going to be parted from him, even for a few weeks while he went back to the Canaries. Dane started to speak again, but the waiter came to fill up their wine glasses and he had to let go her hand, which was probably just as well.

  When the waiter had gone, Minta said shakily, 'All— all right. We'll get married before you go back home.'

  'Minta!' Dane picked up her hand and carried it to his lips, then groaned. 'God, if only we were alone so that I could show you how I feel!'

  'Show me later,' she smiled shakily.

  His eyes became ardent. 'Oh, I will, don't worry.'

  'I'll—I'll tell Daddy tonight.'

  'No, not yet. Give it a few more days so that I can see how things work out. But in the meantime you'd better give me your birth certificate so that I can get a special licence. And when the time comes to tell your father, either I'll see him alone or we'll tell him together. Okay?'

  'Okay.' She nodded in some relief; much as she loved her father, her imagination cringed at the thought of his anger when he heard she wanted to marry a man she hardly knew.

  Dane had another meeting fixed for that afternoon. 'I have to see your father again, as a matter of fact,' he told her. So after they had eaten they had only a short time together before he called a taxi. They went first to her house where Minta ran inside to the study, found her birth certificate in the drawer where all the family documents were kept, and ran out again to give it to Dane. The idea had been that he would drop her off, but she couldn't bear to be apart from him, so she drove back with him into the City. 'I'll call for you tonight,' he told her. 'About seven.' He went to give her a light kiss on the cheek, but Minta turned her face to his.

  'Kiss me properly,' she pleaded huskily, her hands gripping his jacket. 'Please!'

  Dane gave a quick glance in the taxi-driver's direction, but the man wasn't looking at them. Putting his arms around her, he drew her towards him, his mouth finding hers caressingly. 'Don't you realise what an effect kissing you properly has on me?' he murmured.

  'Of course I do. And I'm glad.' Her hands slid inside his jacket, began to undo his shirt.

  'Minx!' Suddenly his kiss hardened, turned to passion, and he bore her back against the seat, not letting up until she was breathless. Then he raised his head and smiled at her bemused face. 'Was that what you call kissing you properly?'

  'Oh, yes!'

  He grinned again. 'It wasn't, you know. Given the right time and place I can do a lot better than that.' Then he looked at his watch. 'Oh, hell! I must go, or I'll be late to see your father. 'Bye, darling.' One more kiss and then he dragged himself away, thrusting some money into the driver's hand and hurrying into the bank.

  Minta leant back in her seat and put up a trembling hand to touch her lips, still tender from the passion of his kiss. If he could do better than that… Wow! She wondered what he'd meant by the right time and place—and could make a pretty accurate guess. She imagined herself going to bed with him—what it would be like.

  'Where to, miss?' The taxi-driver's impatient voice broke through her reverie, bringing a hot flush to her cheeks.

  'What? Oh! Er… Knightsbridge, please.'

  Ten minutes later the taxi dropped her off in the fashionable shopping centre and she spent the rest of the afternoon buying the sexiest nightdresses and underwear she could find.

  'For your trousseau, madam?' one assistant asked her as she wrapped the delicate, lace-encrusted undies.

  'Why, yes. Yes, they are.' And only as she said it did Minta actually realise it was true. She was going to be married. She would be Dane's wife. Mrs Fenton. Araminta Fenton. She said the names in her mind, trying them out and finding them entirely to her liking. Mrs Dane Fenton. Yes, that was how it sounded best of all.

  That evening they went out for a meal to an exclusive French restaurant. 'How did your meeting with my father go?' Minta asked Dane eagerly.

  He gave a slight shrug. 'Not quite as well as I'd hoped. He and his co-directors are hard men to do business with. But nothing's settled yet. We may still be able to come to terms.'

  'I wish I could help,' Minta said wistfully. 'Perhaps if I told him I was going out with you?'

  He lifted a quizzical eyebrow. 'Do you really think that that would influence your father's business attitude?'

  Regretfully, she shook her head. 'No, not at all.'


  Lifting her hand to his lips, Dane kissed each finger one by one, then turned her hand so that he could kiss her palm. 'Do you know that you're very, very sweet?'

  'Sweet enough to—to eat?' she asked breathlessly; having her palm kissed like that was a real turn-on.

  His eyes came up to meet hers, hold them. 'I think you already know the answer to that one,' he said softly.

  Her hand tightened convulsively on his. 'Oh, Dane, I love you so much!'

  'Then you won't object to wearing this.' Gently he freed his hand and took a small box from his pocket. Inside it was an exquisite opal ring, surrounded by diamonds. Picking up her left hand, he slowly slid the ring on to her third finger.

  Minta looked at the jewel sparkling with muted fire on her hand and silly tears came to her eyes, and such a lump in her throat that she couldn't speak.

  'I hope you like it,' Dane prompted, apprehensive at her silence.

  'I love it! It's beautiful.' She flung her arms round his neck and hugged him, much to the amusement of people sitting at the nearby tables. 'I just feel so—so choked up inside.'

  'Darling!' He put up a hand to brush away her tears, and when she had got over it a little, said, 'Does it fit? If not I can…'

  'It fits fine,' Minta said hastily, although in fact it was a little large, but there was no way she was going to take it off.

  'Good. And I've put matters in hand to get a special licence. We should be able to marry in five days' time.'

  'That's next Tuesday.'

  'Yes.' Dane grinned. 'Or we can wait a couple more days if you want a really long engagement.'

  Minta laughed with him, then said, 'Why is it, do you think, that we're so lucky? That we two should be singled out to meet and fall in love so quickly? Why doesn't it happen to everyone this way?'

  'I don't know.' He tilted her chin to look into her eyes, his own very tender. 'Maybe we're blessed by the gods. But I know that I'm the luckiest man alive.'

  They spent the rest of the evening at a cinema, holding hands, hardly aware of the film, wishing they could be alone. When they came out it was very cold after the warm fug of the cinema, and Minta shivered.

  'I'll be glad to get you home to the Canaries where it's warm,' Dane remarked, shrugging himself into his overcoat.

  'Why, is it summer there? I've never been to the Canaries.'

  'No, but we have a very temperate climate all the year round. They call them the islands of eternal spring. You can get a sun-tan there at any time. Where would you like to go now?' he added. 'It's too cold to just walk.'

  Impetuously Minta exclaimed, 'I know! Daddy's taking Maggie out tonight and he'll probably stay at her flat. Why don't we go back to my place? It will be warm there and we can—have a drink, or something.' She didn't add that she wanted desperately to be alone with him, but it was written large in her eyes.

  The house was in darkness when they arrived. They took off their coats in the hall and Minta led the way to the sitting-room, turned on a couple of lamps and poked the fire until it gave a bright glow. There was no need to be careful not to wake Doyley; the housekeeper lived out and only came in at eight every morning.

  Dane sat down on the settee in front of the fire and, catching her wrist, pulled her down on to his lap. 'Come here, woman.'

  Minta went, more than willingly. Kicking off her shoes, she snuggled up to him, her hands going inside his jacket. 'Do you have a hairy chest?' she demanded.

  He looked dismayed. 'Is that a condition of marriage?'

  She pretended to consider, then, 'No, I guess I'll take you as you are.'

  'Thank God for that; there's no way I could have grown a mat of hair by Tuesday.'

  'You haven't got any?'

  'Not one.' He shook his head.

  'Show me,' Minta demanded flirtatiously.

  'Okay—but only if you'll show me yours.'

  Minta gurgled with laughter. She put her arms round his neck and grew suddenly serious again. 'You have the strangest effect on me, you know that? One minute I'm so happy I could burst and the next I want to cry.'

  'There's a very simple diagnosis for that; you're obviously in love. And there's an even simpler remedy.'

  'There is?'

  'Yes. It's this.' Putting a hand behind her head, Dane drew her towards him and kissed her hungrily, then he leant her back against the arm of the settee, his lips growing ever more forceful.

  Minta responded ardently, her mouth moving against his, touching, caressing—incredibly tantalising, incredibly sexy. His hands began to explore her body, lifting her sweater and finding the soft silkiness of her skin. She sighed as his mouth left hers and moved on to explore her throat, her body on fire with desire, moving sensuously under his hands. Unhooking her bra, Dane pushed it aside and raised his head to look at her, his eyes dark. Delicately he began to stroke and caress her with his fingertips, the feather-light touch driving her wild. 'Dane! Oh God, Dane!' Her body arched, thrusting up towards him, her nipples hardening. 'Kiss me there. Oh, please kiss me there.

  He didn't obey her immediately but played with her for a little longer until she thought she'd go crazy, then he slowly lowered his head and used his tongue instead of his fingers. Minta gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders, for the moment overwhelmed by the wonderful sensations he was arousing in her, but the need for fulfilment growing ever stronger. But then Dane lifted his head.

  'Don't stop. Oh, please don't stop,' Minta begged.

  'Listen.' He put a warning hand gently over her mouth.

  Somehow she dragged herself back to reality and became aware of someone in the hall. Then a voice called out, 'Minta, are you home?'

  'It's Daddy!' Quickly she sat up and fumbled her way into her bra, pulled down her sweater. Dane caught her hand and slipped the engagement ring from her finger, then straightened his tie and pushed a hand through his dishevelled hair.

  'In—in here,' Minta called out, hastily going over to the drinks tray and starting to pour out a couple of gins. Her father came into the room and Dane got to his feet, apparently quite unconcerned. 'Hallo again,' he said easily.

  Richard Tennant looked more than a little surprised to see him. 'Why, Fenton! Has something happened? Did you want to see me again?' He glanced at his watch, completely puzzled.

  Dane smiled. 'No, nothing like that. I took Minta out to dinner to say thank you for the excellent meal she gave me last night, and she kindly invited me back for a nightcap.'

  'I see.' His eyes travelled from Dane to Minta, rested for a few contemplative seconds on her flushed face. 'I might as well join you, then. Whisky and soda, please, darling.'

  Minta obediently poured out the drink, glad to turn her back on him. She carried them over and Dane gave her a small grin of encouragement as she handed him his glass.

  'Have you been somewhere interesting?' Her father sat in his favourite armchair, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable. Minta's heart sank; she knew those signs, it meant that he was determined to outsit whoever she had invited back. It had happened several times before when he didn't know or approve of some boy-friend.

  Dane answered him casually enough and the two men chatted for about twenty minutes, with Minta only joining in occasionally, but Dane must have realised that her father intended to stay because, as soon as he had finished his drink, he stood up. 'If you'll excuse me, I must be getting back to my hotel.' He smiled at Minta and her heart gave a crazy lurch. 'Thank you for taking pity on me.'

  'Nonsense. Thank you for a very pleasant evening.' She tried to keep her voice light.

  He shook hands with her father and wished him goodnight.

  Minta said, 'I'll see you out,' holding the door open and shutting it firmly behind them. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered as he put on his coat. 'I really thought he wouldn't be back tonight.'

  'Not to worry. Here, you'd better hide this.' He gave her the ring and she slipped it into the pocket of her full skirt. 'I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, darling.'

&
nbsp; They snatched a brief, passionate kiss and then he put up his collar against the cold and hurried to his car.

  Reluctantly Minta put her head round the sitting- room door. 'Goodnight, Daddy. See you tomorrow.' 'Just a minute; I'd like to have a word with you.'

  'Oh, not now,' she pouted. 'I'm tired. You can tell me tomorrow.'

  'It won't take long,' Richard Tennant insisted. 'Come and sit down by the fire.'

  Slowly Minta obeyed him, but she didn't sit at his feet as she did on other nights, instead sitting where Dane had sat, feeling the warmth of his body on the cushions. Her father opened his mouth to speak, but she forestalled him by saying, 'I thought you were going out with Maggie tonight?'

  'I did, but she developed a headache, so I took her home.'

  'And she didn't want you to stay and comfort her?' Minta asked rather waspishly, still resentful of his having walked in on them.

  'Not tonight, no.' His voice hardened. 'Fenton didn't mention that he was seeing you tonight when we met this afternoon.'

  'Didn't he?' Minta tried hard to sound offhand. 'I expect he's like you and doesn't mix business with pleasure.'

  'Are you going to see him again?'

  'That's rather up to him, isn't it?'

  'Hardly—in this day and age,' he remarked drily. He studied her averted face for a moment, then said, 'I'd rather you didn't go out with him again, Minta.'

  'Oh? Why?'

  'He's trying to negotiate a deal with the bank. It might make things awkward if you get friendly with him.'

  'I don't see why,' Minta retorted hotly. 'Gerald's father is a bank customer and you didn't object to me going out with him. In fact you encouraged me to.'

  'The circumstances are different, but I can't go into detail, you know that. Sorry, darling, but I'm going to have to insist that you don't see Fenton again.'

  'That's ridiculous!' Minta jumped angrily to her feet. 'You were the one who brought him here and introduced him to me.'

  'I know, but I hadn't talked to him then, found out what he wanted. He was just a potential customer.'

  'Well, that's just too bad. Because I intend to see him just as often as I like. And I couldn't care less whether he's a customer of your precious bank or not!'