Bewildered Haven

by Helen Bianchin

  Although Jenny knew she did the dress justice, she was inclined to ignore Jane's drawn-out whistle of approval as they put the finishing touches Jo their make-up a few minutes before seven that evening. The dress was fantastic, and there was nothing wrong with her figure either, but somehow the combination belied her true personality, and she was on the verge of changing the dress for something else when a car pulled into the driveway and slid to a halt. She cast an anxious glance towards her sister and Jane gave her a bright smile, then tugged her towards the front door, murmuring something indistinctly about 'drinks'.

  Bob greeted both girls warmly and moved aside to introduce his companion. Jenny saw him clearly, and took a step backwards as none other than Zachary Benedict moved into the hallway. Jenny's eyes seemed to fuse with his for an infinitesimal second, and she fought desperately to gather her startled wits together.

  'We have met,' Zachary gleamed down in amusement, 'haven't we, Jenny ?'

  'Yes—in Auckland,' Jenny managed, albeit calmly, conscious of both Jane and Bob eyeing her a trifle curiously.

  'We share the same office building,' Zachary drawled informatively as he followed Bob into the Merediths' lounge.

  'That is a great coincidence,' Jane smiled with delight as she shot Jenny a speculative glance. 'How terrific that you both know each other. We've had to do a lot of persuading to talk Jenny into coming tonight—she has an aversion to blind-dating,' she twinkled across at Zachary, utterly captivated by the warmth of his answering smile.

  'Would you like something to drink before we go?' Jenny asked politely, swivelling her glance from Bob to Zachary. 'Mother always keeps something on hand— sherry for her women friends; gin, vermouth and whisky for the men.'

  'Bob always has vermouth, so I'll fix his usual potion,' Jane smiled companionably. 'Jenny can attend to your needs,' she grinned across at Zachary.

  'If you dare, Zachary Benedict, to comment cynically on that remark!' Jenny mentally reproved him as she glared down at the tray of glasses, her shoulders tensing as she waited with bated breath for him to make a mocking remark to Jane's careless phrasing.

  'A light whisky—heavy on the ice and water,' Zachary requested mildly, but there was an underlying hint of humour in his voice that assured her he knew the direction of her thoughts.

  Jenny tried to ignore the dark speculative gleam he slanted down at her as she handed him the glass a few seconds later. She felt as nervous as a kitten—tongue-tied and as shy as a gauche young schoolgirl at her first party. This would never do! The very last thing she wanted to convey was that this man's considerable charm was having the desired effect upon her.

  'I presume Bob has told you that we are all going on to a party after dinner,' Jane stated conversationally to Zachary. 'Eloise—you'll meet her along with fiancé Jeremy at the restaurant—her sister has this fabulous beach-house at Omanu, and tonight she's giving a welcome-home party for her boy-friend. He's been in South Africa building bridges for the past year,' she enlightened attentively.

  Jenny sipped her sherry slowly and with care, for she was consciously aware of every single action her body made and it seemed vitally essential to concentrate on what she was doing. Oh, whatever was the matter with her? she chided herself crossly.

  They left the house a short while later, covering the miles swiftly in Zachary's Mercedes-Benz, and by the time they were seated in the restaurant at the large table with the rest of their party Jenny was beginning to feel slightly more at ease. The conversation between the four couples was lighthearted and communicative, and throughout the meal Zachary was solicitously attentive, raising an eyebrow in silent query when she shook her head repeatedly over the state of her wine-glass. Somehow she felt a desperate need to call on all her faculties for the remainder of the evening, and a head slightly muzzy from too much wine would hardly be conducive to clear and rational thinking!

  Shortly before ten o'clock they vacated the restaurant and made their way along to Omanu where the party was already in full swing, if judging the number of cars parked on the lawn and down the driveway was any indication. It was a huge sprawling affair with people seemingly everywhere—the lounge was crowded, as was the dining-room, the hallway and the large terrace overlooking the ocean. Music echoed around the house from several strategically placed speakers—the neighbours were all here, so the noise didn't matter, Eloise's sister Mary-Ellen had laughingly remarked on their arrival.

  For a while they mingled together, drinking and trying to converse in competition with the music, but gradually the other three couples drifted off and Jenny and Zachary were left to mingle with the other guests or dance.

  Zachary seemed idly fascinated by the contents of Jenny's glass, for he watched her slowly sip until the last drop was gone—then without a word he placed both of their glasses on to a nearby table and drew her into his arms; In the crowded lounge with the lights switched down to reveal a muted smoky glow in which it was just possible to see who was who, dancing to slow sensuous music and held closely against his hard-muscled frame, Jenny mused idly that she must easily be the most envied girl in the entire room.

  'You find something amusing?' Zachary asked quietly, and she felt his warm breath stir a few strands of hair at her temple.

  She lifted her head and gazed straight into his eyes, and managed a light seemingly irrepressible laugh. 'I doubt if you would think it so,' she replied with an attempt at coquetry.

  His eyes swept intimately over her face, leisurely examining its contours before coming to rest at her mouth. 'I much prefer the real Jenny-wren,' he declared wryly, and shook his head slowly.

  'How can you possibly profess to even begin to know the real me?' Jenny challenged indignantly, her eyes snapping dangerously as she rose to his baited comment.

  'You're acting out a charade at the moment, my dear Jenny,' Zachary intoned softly, and his fingers tightened on her arms as she endeavoured to step away from him.

  'I am not your dear Jenny!' she hissed at him angrily, unaccountably enraged.

  'So you've said before, I believe,' he drawled deeply, his hands moving to her waist as he drew her close against him.

  Jenny struggled futilely, trying unsuccessfully to push against his chest to effect leverage on the hard strength of his grasp.

  'Let me go!' she muttered through clenched teeth, and contemplated resorting to childish tricks like stamping on his toes, pulling his hair if she could reach it—or perhaps both!

  'I shouldn't, if I were you,' he cautioned softly, tantalisingly caressing her brow with his lips.

  Jenny shook her head from side to side with quick angry movements, and beat a fist against his chest. 'I hate you, Zachary Benedict!' she burst out in a furious undertone.

  Zachary's eyes hardened and she almost gasped out loud as his arms tightened with a painful intensity, 'You have nothing to hate me for—yet,' he threatened ruthlessly.

  Jenny wrestled impatiently, her face a veritable mask of ill-concealed fury. 'If you don't let me go immediately,' she threatened, 'I—I'll—'

  'It's clearly time some man took you severely in hand, Jenny Meredith,' he drawled sombrely, holding her effortlessly and thwarted her attempts to escape with ease.

  'Well, it won't be you!' Jenny bit out childishly as she felt her face become flushed with fruitless exertion.

  'No?' he teased thoughtfully with a questioning lift of one eyebrow. 'It might present a challenge to tame that look of outrage into one of soft and willing submission.'

  Jenny threw him a look of intense dislike, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 'I don't know what you're trying to achieve,' she began angrily, and her eyes unconsciously slid away from his dark compelling gaze.

  'Perhaps not,' he affirmed curtly, and eased his grip slightly, then sighed deeply as a smile tugged attractively at the corners of his mouth. 'Pax, Jenny Meredith—if only for this evening?' he suggested, his tone lightly bantering.

  Jenny shot him a questioning glance from beneath her lashes. 'I h
ave no wish to repeat this—this disaster of an evening!' she declared ruefully, her head held high to meet his gaze.

  For several long seconds he simply looked down into her upturned face, his eyes narrowing and darkening with concealed anger.

  In the semi-darkness of the dimly lit room the dreamy lilt of a haunting melody drifted softly above the muted chatter. Some couples were drifting close together, moving slightly swaying in time with the music. Others, heads close, appeared lost in a world of their own.

  Jenny was suddenly totally unaware of the people around her. Her eyes were held, locked to those dark, almost black eyes several inches above her own. With slow deliberation he caught her body close in against his, moving a hand to hold fast her head at the nape as he lowered his head down to hers. She opened her mouth to remonstrate with him, but her words were lost. His lips were hard and ruthlessly merciless, intent on extracting their punishment, and forced tears to her eyes. When he lifted his head she was so wrung out with spent emotion she almost fell when he released her from his grasp. Her eyes were large dark pools mirroring hurt and humiliation and for seemingly endless seconds she could not tear her eyes away from his.

  The need to get away—out from the noisy, dimly lit, smoke-filled room—was paramount. Jenny turned and fled, seeking the stairway from the terrace down on to the sand, uncaring of the damage the sand might have on her elegant evening sandals as she ran down towards the sea. After several steps she paused as she almost tripped, and unsteadily removed her sandals, then walked the rest of the way to the water's edge carrying her sandals in her hand. There was a moon, its shadow reflected on the softly swelling tide, and it was heaven to feel the coolness of the night against her skin after the heat inside the house, And Zachary Benedict's punishing anger! Jenny blushed with shame. What on earth had driven her to provoke him to such an extent?

  She lifted shaking fingers to her bruised lips as she stared sightlessly out towards the horizon. What was this thing within her that longed to lash out and hurt—to say things she had no intention of uttering? Tears trickled down her cheeks. What was she doing at this party ? She must have been mad to have consented to come tonight —especially with Zachary Benedict! There was something about the man that got under her skin, and it seemed almost as if some unseen force were thrusting them together. Oh, if only she could escape and go home!

  'Do you intend staying out here for the remainder of the evening?' Zachary Benedict's voice queried quietly from behind her.

  Startled, Jenny turned slightly, then remembering the tears still wet on her cheeks she turned back to gaze along the shore. Silently she moved away and walked slowly with head downbent, catching at her gown to lift it slightly as the cool sea ran gently into foam softly around her bare feet, aware that he was walking beside her a few feet away.

  'Why did you follow me?' Jenny asked after a long silence, when only the distant sound of party merriment and the soft rhythmically swelling surf could be heard.

  'Partly because if I hadn't, some not-so-sober male might have done so—in that gown who could blame him for thinking his amorous attentions might be welcome?' Zachary offered, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice.

  With a sigh Jenny stepped away from the water on to softer sand and turned to gaze out across the sea. It seemed so peaceful standing out here—the tranquil simplicity of the scene seemed to lend an inner peace of mind, washing away the cares of a day-to-day world like the tide that had swirled and eddied at her feet.

  Jenny sensed rather than heard Zachary move to stand close behind her and the clean male smell of him mingled with the spicy tang of aftershave and a faint lingering aroma of cigar smoke. His hands were firm and his touch surprisingly gentle as he turned her round to face him.

  She looked up at him wordlessly, trying to summon her wits together in an attempt to utter a few banal words. He stepped closer, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he lifted her face.

  'You're an exceedingly prickly young woman, Jenny Meredith. I wonder why?' he queried gently as he bent his head down to hers. Gently his lips caressed hers, sensing the trembling softness, and she felt his arms gathering her close to him. Against her will she began to respond, her lips moving treacherously against his. She felt rather than heard his quick intake of breath, then his lips were moving with a sensuous expertise which rendered her breathless. It made any past embrace a mockery—a mere nothing to what this man could demonstrate. From afar she felt herself slipping into a sweet dark oblivion where inertia claimed her limbs and rendered her incapable of thinking clearly. It was like coming home after a long and stormy voyage, his arms the haven. Time had no meaning, and she was totally unaware of anything other than the rapture of the moment until warning bells began to clamour inside her head as she remembered who she was kissing with such passion.

  She began to struggle in an attempt to pull free of his embrace, hot waves of embarrassment and shame colouring her cheeks. Zachary released her gently and in the moonlight seemed to tower over her. Jenny could think of nothing coherent to say as her bosom heaved with the raggedness of her breathing.

  'Don't fight it, Jenny-wren.' Zachary's voice, warm and deep, sounded strangely far away to her ears, and she didn't possess the will to resist the pressure of his fingers as he lifted her chin. 'It will be a sheer waste of time,' he allowed with a slight smile, and his expression softened at her air of bewilderment.

  'I—I'm—' Jenny began in hesitant confusion, but her words were stilled as Zachary placed a finder gently against her lips.

  'No explanations are necessary, Jenny,' he said quietly.

  CHAPTER 4

  The following day Jenny could recall vividly the remaining few hours spent inside the beach-house after she and Zachary returned. She was aware of a few curious glances cast in their direction, and Jane's slightly raised eyebrows quickly followed by a secret smile. Jenny had become bemused, as occasionally when she dared to meet Zachary's eyes the message in their depths appeared so profound that she became afraid of attempting to define it. Despite her half-hearted protests, she found herself agreeing to postpone driving back to Auckland the following afternoon as planned so that she could go with Jane and Bob on Bob's father's fishing launch. A barbecue on the beach on their return was intended to round off the day, and Jenny dismissed as pure fantasy the notion that she was accepting only because Zachary would be there.

  She awoke shortly before breakfast after a restless few hours spent tossing and turning in her bed, so that consequently she developed a throbbing head within minutes of rising. The more she thought about Zachary Benedict, the more she was convinced the sensible thing to do was to use any excuse not to see him again. To succumb to his fatal charm would be akin to dicing with dynamite! Her emotions had taken a severe tumble only five weeks previously, and here she was about to begin something which could only end in disaster. She needed her head examined, she thought crossly, pushing clothes into a suitcase with little regard for neatness. What had he said last night? 'It might present a challenge to tame that look of outrage into one of soft and willing submission.' Really! The conceit of the man was positively galling.

  Well, she would show him she would never submit, and what was more, he could darned well seek a challenge elsewhere!

  'What are you doing, for heaven's sake?' Jane's voice enquired incredulously from the doorway.

  Jenny gathered fresh underwear and her brunch-coat, her face set in angry lines as she turned towards her sister.

  'I can't think why I agreed to go today, really I can't. I don't particularly like fishing, and the thought of a whole day in that—that man Benedict's company is just —much too much!' she declared vehemently. 'I came down here to see Mother, and I've hardly seen her at all. I've been dragged into no end of social jaunts by you— none willingly, I might add, when all I wanted was a quiet weekend! Why can't you all leave me alone!'

  'Hey, what's this all about? Simmer down, Jenny.' Jane cast a worried look in Jen
ny's direction and moved to sit at the end of the bed.

  Jenny gave a long-drawn-out sigh,- giving her sister an apologetic glance as she sank down on to the bed's edge.

  'It's just me, Jane,' she began broodingly. 'It seems that everywhere I go there's some well-meaning relative or friend bent on rushing me into evening up the numbers for dinner or some party—subtle matchmaking that doesn't fool anyone, least of all me!'

  Jane remained silent, her expression pensive as she recalled Jenny's hurried absence from the beach-house lounge the previous evening, and she could not forget her sister's face when she returned with none other than the most fascinating man there, nor that she had looked thoroughly kissed and appeared totally bemused by the experience. Well, perhaps it was best to let things take their own course, after all.

  'Why don't you suggest to Mother that you'll take her to Aunt Madge's for the day? You know she doesn't often get the chance, and you can easily drive on to Auckland whenever you feel like it after lunch. Claude-lands is so peaceful, especially out there on the farm,' Jane enthused, pleased with herself for thinking up such a satisfactory solution. 'You know how much you love animals, and at this time of year there'll be lots of littlies about.'

  Jenny managed a slight smile and felt contrite. How to explain that she, Jenny Meredith, who up until one week ago had sworn never to become involved with men ever again, had come up against a man whose magnetic charm, his very dynamic masculinity had knocked her equilibrium awry and sent it whirling out of sight. She had to forgo today's launch trip for the sake of her sanity, if nothing else.

  'Please, Jane,' she nodded her acceptance, standing to her feet in one supple movement. 'You put it to Mother while I shower. I want to leave as soon as possible whether she wants to come or not.'