'Oh, Dane! Now! Make love to me now,' she begged, her voice panting as she moved against his hands, her cheeks flushed with heat and a film of perspiration on her skin.
But still he held back, his mouth and fingers driving her so wild that she finally grabbed hold of him by the arms and pulled him up on top of her. Dane put an arm under her hips and lifted her towards him, making love to her so forcefully that he sent wave after wave of ecstasy coursing through her body, her senses lost in a whirlpool of pleasure in which she could feel nothing but the wonderful, wonderful sensations in her own body. She cried out his name aloud, her fingers digging into his shoulders, knowing that he was sharing her rapture.
When it was over, Minta didn't move for a long time, she just lay there, her breathing gradually returning to normal, and didn't even open her eyes until she felt Dane get off the bed. He stood looking down at her, his eyes slowly running over her body, seeing the marks of his lovemaking: the lethargy in her limbs, the radiant satiation in her face. He smiled, 'Go back to sleep,' and pulled the thin sheet up over her.
Minta lifted her arms towards him and he bent to kiss her. 'Will you come home at lunchtime?'
'For a siesta?' he asked, his eyebrows rising.
'Why not?' She smoothed the sheet down over her slim figure, hoping the gesture would intrigue him.
And it did. 'I'll try,' he answered. 'It depends how things work out.' He grinned. 'Keep it hot for me if I can't!' And he wasn't talking about lunch.
Minta lay back on her pillow, supremely content, as she listened to Dane shower and dress. How stupid she had been to suppose that he had been annoyed with her last night; perhaps he had just been tired—after all, he had a right to be, working hard with his time-share project and conducting a sex-filled honeymoon at the same time! Minta chuckled to herself. But he certainly hadn't been tired this morning, and he had more than made up for last night. She curled herself into a ball like a contented cat in the sun and fell asleep again before Dane came over to say goodbye.
Later that morning she ventured out to shop for the first time, determined to cook herself that evening so that they could have a candlelit dinner at home. The menu had been easy to work out and she had the list of ingredients she needed in her bag, plus her Spanish phrase book, but she had an idea that she would have to rely heavily on sign language and pointing at things.
The largest department store in Las Palmas is El Corte Ingles, a huge building that takes up a whole triangular- shaped block in a road that runs at right angles to the harbour. Minta thought she would go there first to buy candles as she hadn't been able to find any whole ones in the house, and as it was such a lovely morning, in more ways than one, she decided to walk, knowing that as long as she kept the sea on her right she would eventually get to where she wanted to go.
As she set off, dressed in a cool summer dress, a shopping basket over her arm, she didn't notice a woman sitting in a parked car on the other side of the street, nor that it overtook, her once she had turned into the main road, then stopped and waited again until she had passed, afterwards driving into the underground car park beneath the department store when the watcher saw that that was her destination.
There were lots of beautiful things in the store that Minta would have liked to linger over, but there would be plenty of time for that in the future. She concentrated on buying her candles and one or two cooking utensils that she needed. These things were easy enough as all she had to do was pick the things up and carry them to the cash desk, but then, as she was going down the escalator, her eye was caught by a male model wearing a beautiful cashmere sweater which would look perfect on Dane and would be ideal for the cooler evenings. Succumbing to temptation, she found an assistant and tried to explain what she thought Dane's English size was, and that she wanted to take the sweater for him to try but bring it back and change it if it didn't fit. The assistant, however, didn't speak any English, so he went to find a colleague who could, but he was little better, and somehow they got into a hopeless muddle.
'Perhaps I can help?' a pleasant English voice interrupted just as Minta was beginning to think of giving up the whole idea. Turning, she saw a tall, slim, dark-haired girl standing near by, looking at her in tentative interrogation. The girl looked to be a few years older than herself, had a glorious tan and looked and spoke with the ease that comes from sophistication and attractiveness. Minta felt a stab of jealousy; she had always longed to be tall and sophisticated. But the girl was saying, 'You seem to be having some difficulty with the language, and I do speak Spanish…'
'Thank you,' Minta's flash of jealousy was instantly lost in gratitude. 'I'm trying to buy this sweater for my husband, but I'm not sure of these foreign sizes.'
The girl smiled and turned to the assistant, her Spanish fluent and impeccable, and in no time at all the problem had been sorted out and the sweater wrapped and paid for. Her rescuer laughed and waved away Minta's thanks. 'It was no bother. Are you on holiday here?'
'No, I live here. Or at least I've just come to live here, and I'm afraid I don't speak any Spanish yet. You speak the language so well; I suppose you're a Canary Islander?'
The girl shook her head. 'No, I'm as English as you are, but I used to be a travel courier so I learnt to speak it quite well. Then I fell in love with the islands and decided to settle here.' She smiled. 'Have you got much more shopping to do? Perhaps I can translate for you.'
'That's very kind of you, but I'm sure you must have things of your own you want to do,' Minta demurred.
'No, as a matter of fact I was just killing time, and it's great to meet an English girl of my own generation who actually lives here. So if I can help…'
Minta accepted gratefully. 'Well, thanks. I do have rather a long list.'
'Show me.' Minta passed over her list and the girl said, 'Oh, what you need is the local market. I've got my car here; I'll drive you. It isn't all that far, but it's difficult to find.'
So Minta found herself being driven along by her new acquaintance, who introduced herself as Delia Nelson. She seemed interested and friendly, and Minta was soon confiding that she had recently married and her husband had brought her here to live. The market was a local one, busy and colourful, where it was necessary to feel and prod and bargain for what you wanted. Delia seemed completely at home there and Minta's basket was soon full of all the fruit and vegetables she needed, plus some that she had never heard of before and wanted to experiment with. From the market, Delia drove to a supermarket in Las Palmas where Minta got the rest of the things she needed.
'There.' Delia crossed the last item off the list. 'That's everything. I enjoyed that. What are you going to make?' Then, when Minta told her, 'Mm, that sounds delicious. You must be a super cook.'
'You must come to lunch some time and find out,' Minta offered with a laugh.
'Thanks, I'd like that. Now, you'd better let me drive you home. Where do you live?'
'Oh, but I can't take up any more of your time.'
'Nonsense, you'll never be able to carry all this lot. What's your address?'
Minta told her, glad of the lift, because she had gone a bit mad in the market, buying quite a lot more than she had intended because all the goods had looked so colourful and tempting and because she wasn't used to buying in kilos instead of pounds. When they got to the house, she felt that the least she could do was to ask Delia in for a coffee.
'Oh, how delightful!' the other girl exclaimed when she saw the house. 'You are lucky. I have to make do with a flat that looks on to the roof of the building across the street where a man keeps all his pigeons. What a lovely balcony. May we have our coffee up there?'
'Yes, of course. Come on in.'
The two girls were soon sitting in the shade of the balcony, Minta sitting with her back to the road, looking out over the garden, her guest opposite her. They found many things to talk about, Delia giving her the name of a good hairdresser and telling her where to find a library that had a selection of English
books. The time passed unknowingly quickly as they sat there; Minta only now realising how much she missed having someone of her own sex and age to talk to since she had met Dane. Dane was quite perfect, of course, but there were some things you just couldn't share with a man, like clothes and make-up and the purely feminine topics. But despite her enjoyment, she eventually realised that it must be almost lunchtime, and she wished that Delia would go in case Dane came home; she didn't want to waste a minute of the time when she would be alone with him. But the other girl seemed in no hurry to go, her eyes often looking past Minta to the road as she talked. But then, just as Minta was on the point of having to ask her to go, Delia broke off what she was saying and got to her feet. 'Good heavens, is that the time? I'm so sorry, I had no idea. It's been such an enjoyable morning. Perhaps you'll come and have coffee with me one day? Here, I'll write down my address and telephone number.' Taking a piece of paper from her bag, she wrote on it and passed it over.
Minta stuffed the paper in the pocket of her dress and escorted Delia outside. She was just going to open the gate to let her out, when Delia exclaimed, 'Oh, my sunglasses! I must have left them in your sitting-room, or perhaps on the balcony.'
She moved to go in search of them, but Minta said, 'I'll find them for you,' and ran indoors.
They weren't in the sitting-room, so Minta went up to the balcony. As she reached it she glanced out over the garden wall and saw that Dane had come home, leaving his car in the road and walking up to the gate. She looked round for Delia's glasses, unable to find them at first, then spotted them on the floor behind the chair where she had been sitting. She stooped down to pick them up just as Dane came through the gate. Bother, now he would find a complete stranger in the garden with no one to introduce him.
'What the hell are you doing here?' Dane's thunderstruck voice carried to her quite clearly as she went down on her knees to reach the glasses. 'You promised to keep away!'
'I know, Dane darling, but I just had to come.'
Minta peered through the foliage of the plants on the balcony and saw Delia Nelson run into her husband's arms!
CHAPTER FIVE
Too stunned to believe her own eyes, Minta stared down at the couple in the garden, but then Dane looked towards the house, and she quickly ducked down beneath the shelter of the balcony again, the action completely involuntary.
'Where is she?' Dane's sharp tone carried to her quite clearly.
'Inside.'
He lowered his voice but still spoke urgently. 'Why did you come here? You could ruin everything for me.'
'I couldn't find one of the earrings you gave to me. I was afraid I'd left it behind here and she might find it. You made me pack so quickly—first your things and then mine…'
'She found it yesterday, but I managed to pass it off. I've been trying to contact you all morning to tell you.'
Up in her hiding-place, Minta's blood ran cold in her veins and she began to shiver despite the sun. It couldn't be true. Oh God, please don't let it be true! She wanted to stand up and scream, but she stayed where she was, listening, her ears straining to catch every word.
'Does she know who you are? My God, you haven't told her?'
'No, of course not.' Delia's voice was quick to reassure him. 'I followed her to the shops and pretended to meet her by accident. She doesn't suspect a thing.'
Liar! Minta thought agonisingly. You know I'm here. You set this up so that I would find out.
'You'd better get out of here before she comes back.' Dane's voice faded a little and Minta could imagine him urging Delia towards the gate.
'What about my earring?'
'I left it at the office. I'll drop it in to you on my way home tonight.'
Lifting her head up a little, Minta risked a look over the balcony. They were standing near the gate, their backs towards her and Dane had his hand on the other girl's arm. Delia turned to go, then she suddenly flung herself at him, her arms round his neck, her body against his in an attitude of familiar intimacy. 'Oh, darling, I can't stand being apart from you like this. Must we really wait so long before we can be together permanently again?'
Minta gasped with horror and slid down the balcony, her hands over her ears, unable to bear any more. Oh God, no! Please don't let this be happening to me. Don't let him do this to me. But when she opened her eyes the world was still there, real and suddenly terrible. The sound of Dane moving around downstairs reached her and then he called her name. Slowly she got to her feet. The sunglasses were still on the floor, where she had dropped them. They looked to be expensive. Minta lifted her sandalled foot and viciously smashed them to pieces. Walking out on to the landing, she moved to the head of the stairs and waited for Dane to come up to her.
He did so two at a time, his face lighting up when he saw her waiting for him. "This is very convenient. Are you still ready for that siesta?' Reaching the top of the stairs, he put his arms round her waist and drew her towards him. 'I can hardly wait either.' There was nothing different in his manner, he would have seemed just the same if she hadn't known, if she hadn't been forced to hear, is that what you want?' Minta asked woodenly. 'To take you to bed? Of course.' 'And do you want to make love to me?' He looked amused. 'Most certainly. And I know just what I'm going to do to you. I've been thinking about it all morning.' As he spoke he had begun to undo the buttons at the front of her dress, pulling it aside to expose her breasts. He put up his hands, his fingers extended, to caress them, but as he did so Minta lifted her arm and struck him as hard as she could across the face, the ring she was wearing leaving a thin rake of torn flesh across his cheek.
'You liar!' she screamed at him as he staggered back, caught off balance and having to grab at the banister rail to stop himself from falling down the stairs. 'You bloody rotten liar. You cheat!' She came at him, arms flailing, fingers hooked like talons. 'I heard you—I heard you out there with her in the garden. Thinking about making love to me all morning? All you were doing was trying to phone her. Your mistress. That tramp!' Her voice filled with raging, incoherent sobs as she continued to lash out at him, tears pouring down her face.
'Stop it! Minta, stop it.' Dane tried to catch her arms, but she was filled with a mad kind of strength and he swore as she tore his shirt, her nails leaving trails across his chest. 'For God's sake listen to me. Minta! Oh, hell.' He gave her a push that sent her reeling backwards, then stepped quickly after her and caught hold of her wrists as she automatically tried to regain her balance.
'Darling, listen to me. I can explain…'
'Don't call me that! Don't call me that. I don't want your lousy explanations!' Pulling her head back, she jerked it suddenly forward, butting him in the face. He swore again so that she knew she'd hurt him and was fiercely glad. She struggled wildly, kicking out at his shins, but she was only wearing open-toed sandals and made little impact.
'For God's sake—you hellcat!' The words came out unevenly as Dane fought to keep hold of her. 'Be still!'
'You bastard! Let go of me!' Minta swore at him hysterically, completely oblivious of anything but the need to hurt him. She tried to kick him and he had to move quickly out of the way.
Suddenly angry himself, he said grimly, 'I've had enough of this.' Stepping forward, he caught hold of her arms and pinned them to her sides, holding her in a kind of bear-hug. For a moment he let her feel his strength and Minta realised that it was a man she was trying to fight, a man who was fit and hard and who could break her as easily as a fragile glass. But that didn't intimidate her; she went on yelling abuse at him, tears of frustrated anger in her eyes. And she struggled wildly, wriggling and kicking out at his shins, so that it took all his strength to hold her and carry her into the bedroom, where he dumped her unceremoniously on to the bed. Then he picked up the phone extension while Minta lay there, winded and trying to get her breath back.
When she moved to sit up, Dane pushed her back against the pillows. Quickly he finished speaking, put down the phone and sat on the edge of the be
d, eyeing her warily.
But the fight had gone out of her and all Minta could do was glare at him, her hazel eyes full of hate and despair. 'Who was that you were talking to—your mistress? I suppose you just couldn't wait to tell her.'
'No, it was the office. I told them I wouldn't be in this afternoon,' Dane answered levelly. 'We have to talk this out.'
'As far as I'm concerned there's nothing to talk about,' Minta said viciously. 'You can go to your mistress! I certainly don't want you around.'
'You know you don't mean that.' Dane tried to take hold of her hand but she pulled it away.
'Yes, I do. You can go to hell for all I care!' She turned away, unable even to look at him.
'Minta, listen to me.' He reached an arm across her so that she couldn't get away. His voice urgent, he said, 'All right, she was my mistress. But before I met you. Do you understand? I finished it the moment I got back here.'
'You liar,' Minta sobbed. 'She said she was just waiting to get back with you. Why the hell did you marry me if you didn't love me?'
'I do love you. I love you more than life itself. She must have known you were listening and said that just to try and mess things up between us. I told her there was no chance of my ever going back to her—didn't you hear me say that?'
Minta shook her head, remembering that she had covered her ears then.
Seeing her slight indecision, Dane immediately followed it up by saying, 'You asked the question yourself: why did I marry you and bring you here if I didn't love you?' He waited for her to answer, but when she didn't, just lay there with her head averted, he stood up. 'I'm thirty-two years old, Minta, and I have all the normal needs and appetites of a man. And Delia, to put it crudely, satisfied one of those appetites.'
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