'Do you know what I'd like?' he said about ten minutes later as he brought the warmed-up sausage rolls and a plate of bread and cheese to the table in front of the fireplace.
Davina turned away from a rather good water-colour of Mount Gower. 'No.'
'I'd like to think you trusted me enough to tell me some more about it.'
'You mean my life with Darren?' she said jerkily and moved to sit down with a sigh. 'I don't even want to think about it,' she added barely audibly.
'OK.' He sat down beside her and turned to face her with his arm along the back of the sofa behind her. 'Then should we take up where we left off?'
Davina laid her head back and trembled. 'I…still have some reservations about that.'
'Tell me.' He didn't say it impatiently, but quietly, and reached across and picked up the plate of sausage rolls to offer her one. 'You didn't eat anything, either.'
Davina relaxed a little and bit into one of her feather-light rolls, finished it and took another saying ruefully, 'I didn't realise I was hungry-Steve, do you believe in love?'
He thought for a bit. 'The until-death-do-us-part kind?'
'Yes,' she whispered.
'Yes, but I don't know if it hits you on the head, so to speak,' he said slowly and with an oddly searching look. 'Do you?'
'I… don't know…'
'Don't believe in it or don't know if this is it?'
She shrugged and sipped some wine. 'Both, perhaps but it's…what I have a longing for, despite any impressions I might have given to the contrary.'
'I guess we all do.'
'Do you?' She looked at him over the rim of her glass.
He laid his head back. 'To be honest, it's been there, yes, but it hasn't been a blight on my life. I think it's rather contingent on finding the right person. I thought I had, once,' he reflected. 'She thought otherwise.'
'How do you mean?' Davina asked.
'Well-' He grimaced. 'In the sense that she told me she could no more live most of her life here than she could fly.'
'And that broke you up?' Davina said a little incredulously.
He looked at her wryly. 'It's a fairly major sort of schism, don't you think?' 'But…'
'Are you wondering whether a wife shouldn't automatically cleave unto her husband wherever it is as they did in the bible? I don't think wives quite see themselves that way any more-and it's probably a good thing. Saves a bit of heartache later on.'
Davina drank some more wine. 'What about the girl in red?' she said slowly and decided to be quite honest. 'Loretta told me she was a "contender" and she looked as if that was how she saw herself.'
He said, with a hint of amusement, 'So you were watching me.' Davina sighed gently. 'Obliquely, yes.' He said musingly, 'I've known Mary Hargreaves all my life. She was born here, too, although she left the island for a few years and has only recently returned.' He lifted his eyebrows. 'And returned rather changed.' 'How?'
'She's a lot smarter, a lot more sophisticated, but one thing hasn't changed. She loves Lord Howe.' 'Have you ever considered-falling in love with her?' 'No,' he said briefly. 'Poor girl,' Davina said softly. 'I haven't ever led her on, so to speak.' You don't need to, Davina thought but didn't say. 'And there's been no one else?' she said instead.
She thought he looked at her rather drily before he said, 'There've been a few affairs down the years; I'm not a monk but neither am I a compulsive womaniser.'
'Steve,' she said slowly, 'why did you-you did try to leave me alone for a while, didn't you?'
'Yes,' he agreed. 'You may have noticed, I'm not the most patient, sympathetic sort of bloke, and I thought…the way I am might not be what you needed- among other things. Like a slightly dented ego,' he said, quite gravely, but she knew he was laughing at himself. 'The thing was,' he went on, 'I found it impossible to live in the same house with you and not to-be able to have you. I'm sorry if that sounds crude, or whatever, and I'm aware,' he said in a different voice, 'that to you it might put me in the same league as Darren Smith-Hastings, but there is at least one difference. I think the feeling is mutual between us.'
'And that's something,' she said in a subdued voice, 'I just can't deny.'
He said no more but took her free hand and pressed her fingers gently.
Davina felt tears sting her eyelids but she battled them and said huskily, presently, 'Thanks for being so honest, anyway. Perhaps I can be the same. I… the thought of having someone like you… to look after me and take charge of my life for the time being, and it has been pretty barren for years now, is almost irresistible. The thought of how I feel when you hold me and kiss me- is the same. But it's almost impossible for me to think beyond that and I have to say that while I long for love and tenderness I'm also a mass of insecurities. I just don't know if I could be any good in bed with anyone now,' she said as lightly as she could. 'So-'
'Why don't you leave that up to me, Davina?' 'But,' she said tensely, 'I feel… tainted, sort of. I feel used and old sometimes, you saw it yourself. I… he…' 'Don't. I can imagine. Can I tell you something?' he said gently, and got rid of her wine glass so he could draw her into his arms. 'On that memorable occasion when I first saw you, when I behaved so badly, it was mainly because my first impression was-how absolutely stunning you were.'
'But you also told me with your eyes-' she breathed '-I mean you might as well have told me I was beddable but that's all.'
'I know,' he said wryly. 'I think I must have had some sixth sense about you. An intuition what a thorn in my flesh you were going to be. I also-' he paused thoughtfully '-never like to give way to those very physical first encounters. I've always found it's wiser to be-well, more circumspect. And, you see, it comes as a bit of a shock to most male egos to look at a girl and know immediately that you want her-which makes you quite vulnerable, believe me-whether she's willing or not.'
Davina smiled slightly and grimaced at the same time. 'I bet they're mostly willing, though.'
'Well, that's the other thing.' He ran his fingers down her arm. 'There's this hunter instinct, I guess, plus the desire for a good woman who is only going to succumb to you eventually, that makes you hope she's not immediately willing.'
'That's-only a man could think like that!'
'I know. We're a difficult breed.'
'Not to mention dangerous.'
'Oh, entirely.' He placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. 'See what I mean?'
She laughed and, in an entirely natural movement, snuggled closer to him. 'I always thought, when we did this-if we did this-it would be charged with all sorts of-high drama.'
She didn't see the odd little look he cast the top of her head, she simply laid her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes. He let her be for a few minutes, then he tilted her chin and started to kiss her.
She sat on the white bed some time later in a short satin nightgown with a deep lace V neck and linked her fingers together nervously. She'd had a shower in the old-fashioned bathroom-at least it looked old-fashioned with a tub on claw feet, black and white tiles and an old wooden credenza with the basin let into it, but a thoroughly modern shower cubicle had been installed and the water both gushed and was hot.
She'd brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth and smoothed some moisturiser on to her skin and now she was ready, she hoped. The whole process had only taken a few minutes but she hadn't failed to notice the tension starting to build in her eyes again. Steve had gone outside to deal with a shed door that had started to bang regularly as a wind had risen and rain started to fall.
'Sorry,' he said wryly as he came into the bedroom looking damp and windblown. 'The lock had broken so I had to find something to tie it up with-hey, I knew I shouldn't have left you,' he added, sitting down beside her and looking into her eyes.
She coloured faintly but said, 'That makes me feel like a-wimp.'
'No. Listen, why don't you hop in?' He drew back the bedclothes. 'I'll be with you in two ticks.' And as she slid down, he turned the kerosene lamp right
down to barely a flicker.
Davina watched his shadow on the wall then closed her eyes. A few minutes later the other side of the bed sagged as he climbed in beside her and took her straight into his arms. He wore nothing at all but he buried his face in her hair and said, 'If you knew how often I've dreamt about this you would also know that I'm much in need of some guidance.'
'What do you mean?' she whispered, taken by surprise.
'You'll have to tell me…' But he stopped as a tremor shook her, and lifted his head to look at her. 'What did I say wrong?'
'I… it's nothing-'
'Yes, it is, I could feel you withdrawing and I can see you looking frightened again.'
'I told you this might happen,' she said unhappily.
'Well, I think you're going to have to tell me why,' he said gently and frowned as if trying to recall something. 'All I was going to say was that I need you to tell me if I'm going too fast for you, like a bumbling boy.'
She caught her breath as he smiled suddenly with those wicked little glints in his eyes.
'But, I guess it brought back some memories,' he said, suddenly sober. 'Tell me, Davina.'
'He…' She stopped, then made herself go on. 'He used to try to make me talk to him in a… certain way. It was horrible.' And she turned her face into his shoulder.
He held her for a long time. Then he said slowly, 'It's supposed to turn some men on.' 'But not you?' she said in a muffled, but suddenly
hopeful voice.
'I can't think of anything I'd like less,' he said quietly, and tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. 'But if I'm ever hurting you or not pleasing you, I'd like you
to tell me that. And-' his lips twisted '-I can't deny
I wouldn't mind a bit of encouragement now and then, but you could restrict that to… let's see, how about, "I quite liked that, Mr Warwick," or something along those lines?' He raised an enquiring eyebrow at her.
And Davina found herself laughing suddenly. But she said primly, 'Very well, Mr Warwick, I'll do my best.' He hugged her and they lay together loosely for a while until she felt warm and safe again. And only then, as if he knew instinctively, did he slide her nightgown up over her hip and start to caress her thigh. And, to her immense relief, all the shadows of her past life began to recede until she was aware only of him and the things he did to her body just by touching her with that light touch that both soothed and excited. And when he finally claimed her, she was both wet and welcoming and a little dizzy with delight as she moved beneath him in a rhythm she hadn't known before that seemed to unite them to a final peak of pleasure that rocked them both as if they were one, and affected him as much as it did her.
'Well, well,' he murmured, still breathing a little unevenly as they lay facing each other with their arms around each other. 'So I was right.'
'Right?' She freed a hand and traced the line of his jaw.
'I had the feeling we would do this extremely well together. I just couldn't see how it could be any other way.'
A smile curved Davina's lips. 'It's not very nice to harp on how right one might have been, however,' she said gravely.
'You don't agree?' he queried just as gravely.
'Oh, I agree, Mr Warwick.'
'Then?'
She stared into his hazel eyes and let her fingers drift into his tousled, tawny hair and was suddenly shaken by a rush of emotion. 'How can I say thank you?' she said huskily, and buried herself against him suddenly.
'Don't,' he said very quietly and stroked her hair. 'Don't even think it.'
'It's hard not to. You were…wonderful,' she said softly.
'So were you, so were you. And I never even got your nightgown off,' he said whimsically.
'You'd already had me half undressed earlier on,' she reminded him.
'So I did.' And it seemed as if he was about to say more but in the end didn't and she wondered drowsily why, but she was so comfortable, so contented, she thought with some wonder, she was quite happy to lie in his arms and drift slowly towards sleep. Which she did and it took a few days for her to realise just how delicately Steve Warwick was handling their affair, how he always introduced a note of humour into their love-making, how he went out of his way to do nothing to shock her or bring back any memories of the kind of violation she'd suffered before. How he was healing her little by little-and to realise that things couldn't always be that way between a man and a woman, although that was something she was to learn the hard way. But, for the next few days, it was a kind of growing magic…
'It's still raining.'
'I know,' a voice said beside her, and Davina sat up abruptly, stared around confusedly until Steve pulled her down beside him and said with mock reproach, 'Hey! Remember me? The guy you made love to last night?'
'Oh…' She subsided, laughing. 'I wasn't sure where I was-of course I remember you.'
He buried his face in her shoulder. 'Remember me well, I hope.'
'Very well.' She smoothed her hands along his
shoulders.
'What I'm trying to establish is whether you remember me kindly enough to repeat the experience in the next few minutes, because I have to tell you that I'm intoxicated by the warm, soft feel of you and the perfume of your skin. I can't keep my hands off you-and it is raining, as you remarked.'
'What's that got to do with it?' Davina enquired with a catch in her voice as he once more slid her nightgown up.
'Well, there's no point getting up, is there?' He spanned her waist with his hands then moved them up to her breasts. 'I think I am going to take this off this time,' he added. 'I feel it might get in my way this morning.'
And, because she was weak with desire and love, she simply sat up and did it herself then slipped down beside him again. 'Does that answer all your questions, Mr Warwick?' she murmured, as he enfolded her completely naked in his arms. 'Beautifully,' he replied seriously.
That afternoon, despite the soft rain, he found some old waterproofs and they went for a tramp up to the Catalina crash site and he told her the history of it, how the Royal Australian Airforce flying boat in 1948, flying low with a faulty hydraulic system, had clipped the ridge and plummeted down the paddock, and they inspected the wreckage then walked up to the memorial plaque in memory of the men who had died. When they got back, Davina was glowing from the exercise and the fresh misty rain, and Steve stopped to chop some wood for the stove and the fireplace-and the heavens opened again and it started to pour heavily. They were laughing breathlessly as they got inside with bundles of wood and after they'd dried off, Davina turned her attention to cooking dinner on the wood stove. They'd combined breakfast and lunch into one meal, chops and eggs which had been relatively simple to fry, whereas dinner was going to be more complicated…
'But I always wanted to try one,' she assured him as she assembled her ingredients for a beef and burgundy casserole, potatoes Anna and broccoli in a cream sauce.
He watched her working, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved white jumper with an old-fashioned frilly apron complete with bib tied around her. Her hair was loose and the moisture in the air had added to its fullness, and he smiled slightly as she tucked some strands behind her ears and regarded the stove that he had lit thoughtfully. 'I guess one has to guess at the temperatures,' she murmured.
'I guess so,' he agreed, his eyes still on her.
She looked up and an impish light lit her eyes. He, too, had changed, into jeans and a yellow sweater and he looked big and vital, and as if he had other things on his mind. 'You're not going to be much help, are you?'
'I know next to nothing about cooking on one of these; there used to be an electric stove but Lavinia threw it out. Besides which-' he paused and his hazel eyes locked with hers '-I could get into trouble for interfering with the cook. There's something about your apron that is driving me wild.'
'Why don't you go and do something else, then?' she suggested airily but with her pulses beginning to hammer. 'There's nothing else I want to do.' He leant
his shoulders against a cupboard and folded his arms.
'Steve,' she tried to say seriously, not quite sure whether he was serious or not, 'I don't take my cooking lightly, so I'm liable to get irritable if-what are you doing?' she queried as he pushed himself away from the cupboard and came to stand right in front of her. 'I'm trying to take this rejection lightly,' he murmured. 'It's not a rejection!' she protested. 'But we have to eat.'
'Yes, ma'am.' But he didn't move.
She made an exasperated sound and stood on her toes to kiss him. 'There, will that do?'
He considered. 'If I were to be assured it was only a down-payment, it might.'
'You… oh!' She relaxed as she saw the laughter beginning to lurk in his eyes.
'Had you going there for a bit, didn't I?' he teased.
'Yes, you did,' she retorted, but laughing herself. 'Now, will you leave me in peace, please?'
'Certainly,' he replied promptly, but added, 'When I've done this.' And he took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. 'I was only half teasing you, you see,' he said, as she lay flushed and breathless against him.
'You're impossible,' she said huskily, but amended that almost immediately as he stroked her hair. 'If anyone had told me you could be like this when we first met, I wouldn't have believed them.' 'Like what?'
'So… nice,' she said barely audibly. 'So much fun to be with.'
He grimaced slightly. 'Has it occurred to you that we might bring out the best in each other?'
She lifted her eyes to his and they stared at each other for a long moment. 'I didn't know I could be fun to be with any more,' she said uncertainly.
'Well, you are, take it from me,' he said in what she later thought might have been a deliberate lightening of the moment, and couldn't help wondering why.
But at the time, when he went on to say that if she was serious about wanting to cook them dinner now might be the time to start just in case she was instrumental in him getting seriously carried away, she pushed herself away from him and said in mock reproof, 'Mr Warwick, you started all this!' Then they were laughing together and he kissed her briefly and told her he would desist, for the time being.
A Masterful Man Page 11