Nicola didn't know what to say. How was he feeling? She wanted to keep him talking; it would be goodbye for ever soon enough. Something struck her and she said tentatively, 'But I thought ... the Graemes can't afford that sort of thing?'
Then enlightenment dawned and she stared at him wonderingly. He would even do this for Denise, or at least for Denise's ultimate good.
He said, and she thought he sounded rueful, 'The Graemes are, in a way, family, Nicola.'
She was shaking again, perhaps because of the way he was looking at her, as if he sought to read her mind by scrutinising her face.
How much was she giving away? She was genuinely frightened by her own lack of control and she said hastily, 'It's goodbyes all round, then ... I must make my departure now too.'
`You don't sound very happy about it,' he commented, sounding amused. 'Why, I wonder?'
`Why are you so cruel? You're always mocking—' Nicola began, then stopped, horrified to hear her voice break and feel the tears welling up behind her eyes.
She stood helplessly before him, unbearably humiliated and desperately unhappy, while the slow tears trickled over her cheeks. She could do nothing, neither stop the tears nor turn and leave him. She simply stood there, all control and dignity removed from her.
`Oh, Nicola!' Now there was amused exasperation in his voice. 'You know my feelings on weeping women.'
`I can't help it,' she protested crossly.
`I can see that. Poor Nicola, are you very unhappy?' he asked, and now his tone altered to become oddly gentle, although it held an undercurrent of laughter. `I'm beginning to think I'll have to provide you with the same remedy as Denise. How will it suit you,
Kola? I must make arrangements for you to go to ,Europe too—with one of your married men.'
Nicola looked at him quickly, her eyes suspicious, defensive.
He continued, and now he was smiling in the strangest way. 'A very happily married man, and you'll share his name, of course.'
`Barak ! ' she said sharply, hardly daring to breathe. `What are you talking about?'
He moved closer to her, his eyes alight with laughter and something else that made her catch her breath. 'I trust you believe in those delightful interludes called honeymoons?'
`But—but ...' She stared at him, wholly bewitched by that light in his eyes, trying to understand his meaning. It just wasn't possible. 'Tell me straight, Barak,' she begged eventually.
`Tell you what?' he asked, drawing her into the circle of his arm. 'That I'm totally unable to resist you?'
`What about Denise?' she demanded, still not believing what was happening.
He sighed, puffing her closer against him, and Nicola didn't resist him. She could feel the tension in him, and her own body trembled.
`As I said just now, the Graemes are, in a way, family. Her parents couldn't cope with Denise, and I, much to my regret, made myself responsible for her. I knew she coveted my home, but it was only recently that I discovered that both she and her parents had categorised me as the child's unofficial fiancé. I dispelled that illusion this morning. Denise's recent be-
haviour has been aimed at making me see her as a woman, but it had the opposite effect. She has an old mind, but she's immature in many ways. Incidentally, she dispelled an illusion of mine too this morning. She was too distraught to be careful in referring to New Year's Eve's events. I must say it was typical of Denise. Typical of Nicola too.' He moved a hand to caress her cheek.
`So you know that ... that there was nothing?' Nicola murmured.
`I know. Your reaction just now to the news about Baxter, your concern about Hilary and Denise's reactions, confirmed what I got out of Denise. Besides which,' he continued drily, 'I had a few words with Melanie this morning and she enlightened me, after a little prompting, as to the difference between holding hands and having your hands held. She also mentioned the unavoidability of certain embraces and informed me that you didn't much like Baxter. So there we have it. Just one thing; what was making you so unhappy last night if it wasn't Baxter?'
`I was ... upset for you. I thought you were sad because Denise ... because ...'
`That was kind of you, but totally unnecessary,' he assured her.
`But, Barak ...' Nicola stirred against him and lifted her face in order to see his.
`But what?' he demanded. 'You're not still imagining that I was trying to make Denise a substitute for Vanessa? I know I never actually put you right about that idea, and Denise, Ellen ... everyone ... probably
assisted in fostering it, but you were completely wrong there.'
It was the beginning of belief and the beginning of joy—the end of pain. Nicola lifted her arms, put them round his neck and said, 'I'm so glad. Oh, Barak, I love you so terribly !'
`So wonderfully, darling,' he corrected her gently, and there was an infinite tenderness in the way he caressed her.
His arms tightened about her and she was shaken by the expression in his eyes as, he went on, 'When you came here, I wanted you, and shortly afterwards I found myself loving you. That was why I hated you to mention Vanessa. You came with all your bright newness, making her fade. That was a young love, darling. Where you are concerned, Nicola, I love you with a man's love for a woman, and I need and want you.'
Nicola lifted her mouth to his, but not before taking a happy, wondering look at his face. She had seen the dawn before, but no lightening sky had ever given her the rapture she now experienced in seeing the softening of the beloved dark face above hers. Then her lids fell over her eyes and her lips parted as he lowered his head to ignite her need of him. His hands caressing her were gentle at first, bringing her to a slow awakening; then they grew urgent and demanding as their shared passion mounted and he felt her response.
Presently he took his mouth away from hers, murmuring, 'You still haven't told me if you approve of a European honeymoon.'
Nicola's eyes were alight. 'You only told me, you didn't ask me.'
Then, as his arms tightened again, she whispered his name urgently as she moved against him.
`I know darling,' he murmured, and she didn't question his understanding but merely sighed happily as she read her future in his eyes and gave herself up to the matchless sensation of being cherished.
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