Bridge to Nowhere

by Yvonne Whittal

  'It's not supposed to look cute,' she informed him with mock indignation as she rose from the stool to take off her paint-daubed smock. 'It's supposed to look realistic.'

  'It's realistically cute,' he conceded, tongue-in-cheek.

  Megan could not suppress that bubble of amused laughter rising in her throat and, flinging her smock aside, she turned to face him, but her laughter faded on a gasp when she found herself standing so close to him that she could almost feel the heat of his body against her own. Their eyes met and held for breathtaking seconds before his glance strayed boldly down to where her blue V-necked T-shirt hugged her small, firm breasts, and she could feel them swelling as if he had actually touched her.

  Chad's eyes darkened with a desire that held her captive physically and emotionally when his hands circled her slender waist. She was incapable of resisting when he drew her closer, and a weakness surged into her limbs as his taut thighs brushed against her own. He lowered his head, his mouth hovering for one palpitating second above hers, and then he was tormenting her with those feather-light, sensually arousing kisses that made her cling to his shoulders while the blood flowed through her veins at a dizzying pace.

  Her fingers slid into the short, dark hair at the nape of his strong neck to urge his head down to hers, and his kisses deepened instantly with a hunger to which Megan responded with a hunger of her own until she felt his hands shifting up beneath her T-shirt to stroke the soft, smooth skin at her waist. Her body ached to be touched, she could feel her nipples hardening in anticipation, but her mind warned against it, and she eased herself away from his equally aroused body before the final fragments of her control deserted her.

  'If my mother is expecting us, then I think we'd better go.'

  Her voice had sounded breathless and unrecognisably husky, and a faintly cynical smile touched his sensuous mouth when he released her to trail a teasing finger across her flushed cheeks.

  'Yes, we'd better go before your mother launches a search party and finds her daughter in the arms of a villain like myself.'

  A villain? Yes, he could be that at times, Megan thought, the flush in her cheeks deepening, and she could not look at Chad when they left the cottage and walked along the flagstone path through the sun-washed garden, but she had regained a measure of her composure by the time they reached the house.

  She was not quite sure what she had expected, but lunch was not the ordeal she had imagined it might be. Peter and Vivien were perfect hosts, as always, and the conversation flowed naturally and comfortably.

  They were lingering at the table over a cup of tea when Megan saw her father glance at Chad and say, 'I believe you're negotiating the purchase of a piece of land adjoining the game park.'

  She looked up sharply, and her questioning glance collided briefly with Chad's across the table before he looked away to address her father.

  'I was at the lawyer's office this morning, and the transfer ought to go through within a couple of weeks,' he said. 'It's not a very big piece of land, about ten acres, but it lies flush against the eastern boundary of the game park, and it's ideally situated to suit my needs.'

  'Does this mean you've decided to stay on permanently at Izilwane?' Vivien questioned him, and Chad turned to her with a faintly amused smile.

  'I like my job, and I like the climate.'

  'It's our climate which was quite likely responsible for bringing on your bout of malaria,' Peter offered his medical opinion, and Chad smiled at him amiably.

  'Thanks to you, Dr O'Brien, I have the means with which to cope with it in future.'

  The telephone started ringing in the hall, and Megan got up to answer it. 'It's for you, Dad,' she told her father when she returned to the dining-room a few seconds later. 'It's someone from the hospital.'

  'Oh, lord, what now?' her father groaned, excusing himself from the table to take the call.

  Megan could hear him on the telephone in the hall, but she could not gauge much from his abrupt queries, and they sat there in silence around the luncheon table until he returned to the dining-room some moments later.

  'Well, there go my hopes for a peaceful afternoon at home,' he said, a grim look on his lean face.

  'I gather you have to go out again,' Vivien remarked with a calmness which indicated she had long ago resigned herself to the irregular comings and goings of her husband.

  'Every available doctor is needed at the hospital,' Peter explained, shrugging himself into his jacket and gulping down the last of his tea without resuming his seat at the table. 'A bus carrying thirty passengers jumped the safety rails on the mountain pass near the lumber camps, and the ambulances are on their way to the hospital with the injured.'

  There was an understandable urgency in his manner when he turned to leave, and Vivien excused herself from the table to accompany him out of the house, leaving Megan alone with Chad.

  'I'm driving out to Thorndale this afternoon to take a look at one of Frances' Brahman heifers which is in calf,' Chad broke the contemplative silence between them. 'Would you like to come with me and keep me company?'

  'I'd love to go with you, but I can't,' she declined his invitation with a rueful smile. 'I'm sorry, Chad, but I have work to do. I have three weeks in which to complete the illustrations for the children's book, and that will mean working on it every spare moment I have.'

  'Are you coming out to Izilwane on Monday?'

  Megan clasped her hands nervously in her lap and shook her head. 'I doubt it.'

  'What about your curio shop?'

  'Dorothy is quite capable of taking care of everything for me while I'm away.'

  The atmosphere was becoming extraordinarily tense and strained between them. Oh, why did it have to sound as if she was deliberately making excuses in an attempt to avoid being with him?

  'When am I going to see you again?' he demanded, his narrowed glance capturing and holding hers across the table.

  'I'm not sure.'

  Chad flung down his table napkin and pushed back his chair to get to his feet. His features were taut and angry, and there was a hint of menace in his stride when he stepped round the table towards her.

  'Confound it, Megan, I—'

  He broke off abruptly at the sound of approaching footsteps, and Megan had also risen agitatedly from her chair by the time her mother came into the dining-room.

  'Are you deserting us as well, Chad?' Vivien demanded, her curious glance darting from Chad to Megan and back as if she had sensed the presence of tension in the room.

  'I'm afraid I must, Mrs O'Brien.' Chad answered Vivien smoothly, but the polite smile about his mouth did not reach his steel-grey eyes. 'Thank you for a delightful lunch, and I hope that some day soon I shall be able to return the invitation.'

  'I'll walk with you to your car,' Megan offered hastily when he turned to leave, and she accompanied him out of the house in abject silence.

  The reflection of the sun on the Porsche's windshield blinded her as they descended the steps into the driveway, and she turned her head to encounter Chad's rigid, unyielding profile. He was being unreasonable, she was thinking, and there was no need for her to apologise, but when he slid behind the wheel of his car and slammed the door shut, she found herself murmuring, 'I'm sorry, Chad.'

  There was a look of cynical disbelief in the eyes that met hers as he turned the key in the ignition, and she backed away nervously as the Porsche's engine roared to life.

  Chad was speeding down the circular driveway a second later, and Megan lingered out there in the scorching sun until long after his Porsche had disappeared down the street. She would have given anything to go with him, but in this instance her work had to come first. If only Chad could accept and understand that!

  A helpless sigh escaped her as she turned to go indoors. Chad would have to sort out his own feelings on this matter, but she had work to do, and the sooner she got back to it, the better.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  There was a refreshing coolness in the bre
eze that wafted into the studio through the open window, and the perfect silence of the night was disturbed only by the varying sounds of the many insects in the undergrowth. A moth circled the spotlight trained on the easel, but Megan was too absorbed in what she was doing to be aware of the insect which seemed intent on bashing itself senseless against the glass casing.

  A car turned into the side street, the hum of its powerful engine becoming louder as it drew near, but she paid no attention to it until the engine was cut and the sound of a car door being slammed reached her ears. Her hand stilled, halting the delicate brush strokes on the canvas, and her stomach muscles contracted nervously when she heard heavy footsteps coming up the path towards the entrance of the cottage.

  Chad? She brushed that thought aside almost the instant it entered her mind. She had neither seen him nor heard from him in almost two weeks, so why should her late-night visitor be Chad?

  Megan put down her palette and brush and rose slowly to her feet to arch her aching back. She had had a difficult time trying to put Chad out of her mind to concentrate on her work, and she did not want to start thinking and wondering about him now when she was so close to completing her task.

  There was a sharp knock on the door. It jarred Megan's nerves, but it was nothing compared to what she felt when she recognised Chad's tall, wide-shouldered frame beneath the porch light.

  He was dressed casually in a grey, checked shirt and faded blue denims, but her heart lurched anxiously in her breast as her gaze shifted higher to his face. He looked grim and exhausted with deep shadows beneath his eyes, and compassion melted away all the anger she had stored up.

  'May I come in, or are you too busy to receive visitors?' he asked, a humourless smile curving his sensuous mouth, and Megan stepped back without speaking to let him in.

  The faint smell of aftershave quivered in her nostrils as he brushed past her. It teased her senses, and her legs suddenly felt shaky beneath her when she closed the door and led the way into the studio.

  'Why don't you tell me I'm a selfish, unreasonable lout for behaving the way I did the last time I was here?' he demanded harshly, his fingers snaking unexpectedly about her wrist and spinning her round to face him.

  'You're a selfish, unreasonable lout,' she echoed readily, and with feeling, but her pulses jerked nervously when she saw the smoky fire that leapt into his eyes.

  He pulled her roughly, almost angrily, into his arms, but Megan stood rigid in his embrace as he took possession of her lips. She did not want to respond, but her lips parted beneath the sensual expertise of his mouth moving back and forth against hers, and she welcomed the invasion of his tongue as the white-hot passion of his kiss engulfed her to spread like liquid fire through her veins.

  Stripped of her resistance, her body yielded to Chad's dominance, and she trembled beneath his hands when he eased her loose-fitting smock from her shoulders and down along her arms in one fluid, exciting caress. It fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her less restricted in her strapless summer frock, and her arms went up of their own volition to circle his neck when he drew her closer into the hard curve of his aroused body.

  His mouth left hers to seek out the sensitive areas along her throat and shoulders, and a jerky breath passed her lips as his hands roamed her body to play havoc with her emotions. She could feel the heat of his touch burning her skin through the thin, silky material when he explored the gentle curve of her hips and thighs, and then his fingers were tugging at the bow which held the bodice of her frock firmly in place above her breasts.

  Megan's hands fluttered down to his wrists to stop him when she remembered that she was not wearing a bra, but she was too late. Her silky bodice had slithered down to nestle above the belt at her waist, and a moan of pleasure escaped her when Chad's hands blazed a sensual, fiery path across her bare, responsive flesh. This was wrong, she told herself, but the desire to halt it was no longer there when she felt her body come alive to the most intoxicating sensations.

  Oh, what am I doing? she wondered crazily when his probing, stroking fingers were coaxing her rosy nipples into hard, throbbing buttons of the most exquisite desire.

  'I think I'm losing my heart to you, Megan,' Chad murmured throatily, his teeth nipping gently at her earlobe and sending a spate of new sensations spiralling through her.

  Oh, if only that were true! Megan was thinking as she surfaced from that deep well of her own turbulent emotions to push him away from her.

  'I think you're too exhausted to know what you're saying,' she replied, her voice uncommonly husky and her cheeks flaming as she lifted the bodice of her frock over her breasts and fastened the bow with unsteady fingers.

  She was too afraid to look at him; too afraid of what he might see in her eyes. Her smock lay on the floor at their feet, and she stooped quickly, picking it up and flinging it carelessly across the back of a chair as she turned away from Chad. She walked towards her easel and forcibly channelled her mind towards the mundane. Her brushes needed to be cleaned before the paint dried on them, and, seeking something with which to occupy her hands, she gathered up the brushes and plunged them into a can of turps.

  'You may be right,' Chad remarked laconically. 'I must be too exhausted to know what I'm saying,' he added with a faintly mocking laugh.

  Dammit! Did he have to agree with her?

  'The past two weeks have been tremendously tiring,' Chad continued without waiting for her to comment on his remark, and Megan's pulses were still throbbing at an unnatural pace when he came up beside her to stare at the painting on the easel, but she had a feeling that he was staring at it without seeing the little boy hugging his puppy. 'Between the game park and the farming community I've been kept pretty busy, and I spent most of today in and out of the Land Rover with a couple of trackers, tracking down a lion with an infected wound which had to be treated.'

  A shiver of fear raced through her. She was aware of the danger involved in such an exercise where a lion had to be singled out and darted to receive the necessary treatment, but she remained silent about her fears for Chad's safety.

  'I don't know what I would have done without Glenys these past two weeks.' He sighed deeply and combed his fingers through his dark hair in a tired and totally uncharacteristic gesture. 'Her assistance in the office and the surgery has been invaluable.'

  'Glenys?' queried Megan, her heartbeats finally under control as she raised her bewildered glance to his.

  'Glenys Gibson, my secretary.'

  'Oh, yes, I'd forgotten.' She lowered her gaze hastily and removed the brushes from the can of turps to wipe them dry with unnecessary vigour, while her mind conjured up a vision of the young woman whom Chad had appointed as his secretary some weeks ago. 'She's very attractive,' she mused out aloud, but she could have bitten off her tongue the next instant when she heard Chad's throaty, mocking laughter.

  'Yes, Glenys is rather attractive,' he agreed, arousing an unfamiliar stab of jealousy in Megan. 'I must admit I've always had a preference for tall, leggy brunettes.'

  'So I've noticed,' she murmured caustically, hiding her misery behind a smile. 'The first time I saw you at Alexa and Revil Bradstone's home you were accompanied by a tall, leggy brunette.'

  'Your memory of that meeting is obviously better than mine, but that was in the past.' The brushes and the cloth were removed unceremoniously from her hands, and the mockery was still there in his smile as he turned her into his arms. 'At the moment I have a definite preference for small, slender young women with honey-gold hair, and soft, inviting lips.'

  'Flattery will get you nowhere!'

  'I have yet to meet a woman who doesn't respond to flattery,' he insisted with a derisive laugh, lowering his head to hers, but she evaded his seeking mouth and raised her hands to place them flat against his hard chest.

  'Sit down,' she instructed, giving him a none too gentle push on to the leather couch behind him. 'I'll go and make us a cup of coffee.'

  He did not follow her into the small
kitchen, and Megan was intensely relieved to have those few moments to herself to gather her scattered wits about her. She would have to be a great deal more cautious in future where Chad was concerned if she did not want him to guess how she felt about him. It was painful enough to love him and to know that he could never love her in return, but his mockery and his contempt would drive her beyond the limit of her endurance.

  Chad was standing with his fingers pushed deep into the back pockets of his denims when Megan returned to the studio with their coffee. He was admiring the completed paintings which she had propped up against the wall beneath the open window, and he turned to take the mug of coffee she offered him, his glance thoughtful.

  'You must have worked day and night these past two weeks to complete all these paintings.'

  'Almost,' she smiled up at him, and a teasing light entered his steel-grey eyes.

  'You're an artist who knows how to apply realism to your work, but I still think that "cute" is the best way to describe these illustrations,' he said, making himself comfortable on the leather couch and stretching his long, muscular legs out in front of him, and this time Megan did not contradict his observation as she lowered herself on to the stool in front of the easel.

  Chad questioned her in detail about her work while they drank their coffee, and she would have liked to believe that his interest was genuine. Art, in any form or style, was Megan's favourite topic of conversation. She could talk about it for hours without tiring of the subject, but she was wary of Chad's mockery, and she limited herself solely to answering his questions.

  'What do you plan to do with that piece of land you bought?' she asked, changing the subject as she took his empty mug from him and placed it on the low, circular table beside her stool.

  'I haven't given it much thought lately.' His tired features creased with a suggestion of a smile as he studied the tips of his grey, suede shoes. 'The bungalow is comfortable, but I can't stay there for an unspecified length of time, so I might build a house on that land adjoining the game park and settle down.'