by Penny Jordan
His mouth against her breast made her cry out with pleasure, her small teeth biting sharply into his skin.
‘Jaime.’ His hand rested possessively against her thigh, his voice commanding her to meet the hungry passion of his kiss. She gave herself up to it gladly, welcoming the hot invasion of his tongue, matching him in her need to convey her increasing need of him.
His fingers, caressing her intimately, transported her to a world she had nearly forgotten existed, her own hands reaching out to find the hard maleness of him.
Blake moaned his pleasure as her fingers stroked the throbbing tissue that told her of his desire, and Jaime knew that the moment of physical possession could not be delayed much longer, but she let Blake prolong the anticipation until it was almost a pain, kissing the moist warmth of his chest and then sucking the flat maleness of his nipples until his body shuddered in uncontrollable response, surging into hers with a fierce heat that satisfied the dull ache radiating from the inner core of her.
Their lovemaking was as fierce and elemental as the storm that raged outside, the powerful rhythm of Blake’s body wringing from Jaime a shuddering response that made her cry out in a delirium only to find that, instead of reaching the peak of pleasure, they were still climbing; through the stars and into empty, dizzying space where Blake’s mouth stifled her final cry of fulfilment, his tongue licking the tears of pleasure from her face.
Jaime fell asleep in his arms, her body still entwined with his, his arm a heavy weight against her.
When she woke up in the morning, Blake was gone. She could hear sounds of movement from downstairs, but, when she tried to get out of bed, she found her body lethargically uncooperative. She had just rescued the discarded teddy, when Fern burst into the room, closely followed by Blake.
‘Breakfast,’ he said calmly. ‘I thought you might appreciate a lie-in this morning.’
Jaime could no more have prevented her brilliant flush than she could have flown. Blake’s comment was as intimate as though he already knew of the love-bruises faintly colouring her skin and the pleasant ache still left in her body.
Half of her was relieved when he left her alone to eat her breakfast, and half of her disappointed. Where did they go from last night? Blake had never said he loved her, never mentioned permanency. . . . She would have to talk to him, Jaime thought despairingly. She couldn’t go on sleeping with him, living with him, loving him as she did, while he . . .’
When she went downstairs, there was a note in the kitchen from Blake to say he had taken Fern down on to the beach.
The storm had left the air much clearer, and the sun shone out of a soft blue sky. Jaime brought the damp bedding downstairs and put it in the washing machine, only to discover that she was out of powder. The car was outside, and it wouldn’t take her long to drive to the village. It took her longer than she thought to get back. The village shop was busy, and it was over half an hour before she could set off back.
As she drove up to the cottage, Blake rushed out, his face white and set.
‘Jaime!’
‘Fern?’ she exclaimed anxiously, ‘Has something happened to her?’
‘Fern’s upstairs having a nap. Where have you been?’
‘To the village, to get some washing powder.’
Was it her imagination, or did Blake relax slightly?
‘Where did you think I was?’ she asked curiously.
‘I thought you’d left,’ Blake’s voice was completely flat. ‘Jaime, it’s time we sat down and talked. I’ve tried to be patient, to tell myself to take it slowly, to give you time, but I just can’t take it any more. I thought when you first left me that, if I gave you time, if I didn’t frighten you, you’d stop hating me and start loving me again. . . .’
‘Stop hating you?’ Jaime stared at him, sinking down on to the wooden bench outside the cottage. ‘But Blake, I’ve never hated you.’
‘That’s not what you told Suzy when you told her you were leaving me. “Tell him I hate him, and that if he tries to see me I’ll kill myself”— that’s what you told her.’
‘No, I told her no such thing,’ Jaime protested. ‘She told me that you had asked to go on an assignment in El Salvador, that you were tired of me, that . . . Blake . . .’
He had dropped to the seat next to her, his head buried in his hands. ‘Oh my God,’ he said indistinctly. ‘Is that really true?’
‘Of course, it is. Why should I lie? I always loved you, Blake,’ she said softly. ‘Surely you knew that?’
‘I knew you were infatuated with me. I knew I ought to give you more time to discover what life was all about. I knew I ought to give myself more time to accept that our marriage would mean a whole new way of life, but I also knew how desperately you craved security, and I was terrified that, if I didn’t give it to you, someone else would. I told myself that, within the security of our marriage, you’d mature; that our love would mature, and that you’d stop being terrified of losing me . . . I was terrified that security was all you wanted from me, and that, one day, you’d grow up and realise that for yourself. . . . That’s why I tried to get you to cling less . . . so that you could realise . . .’ he shook his head. ‘That day, when we had the quarrel, I’d already told them I wouldn’t accept the El Salvador assignment. I knew I couldn’t go and do the job properly, because too much of me would be left behind with you, but the moment I started to tell you about it, you threw that temper tantrum. . . .’
‘Because I suspected I was having Fern, and I was so scared . . . so terrified that, once you knew, you’d be so angry that you’d leave. No children you had said. . . .’
‘Because I wanted you to want them for the right reasons. Not because you needed someone to love. Dear God, Jaime! Of course, I wanted you to have my child.’
‘So, why didn’t you answer the letter I sent you telling you about Fern, and asking if I could come back?’
‘You did that?’ He looked distressed. ‘Jaime, I left the flat the day after you. I was so bitter, so despairing that I told the editor I’d changed my mind, and that I would accept the El Salvador assignment. It was the last one I did accept. Suzy was the photographer assigned to me—we’d been lovers once, you know, not in the emotional sense, but merely in a physical one, and, while we were away, she made it plain that she wanted to resume our old relationship. I didn’t— couldn’t. I wanted only you, and, rather than embarrass her by telling her so, I decided to quit. I wanted to by then anyway. I’d always wanted to write. I got in touch with your mother the moment I got back, but she said she thought you wouldn’t see me.’
Jaime remembered telling her mother, almost hysterically, how much she hated Blake. If she had told her the truth, how different things might have been!
‘She advised me to bide my time . . . . to wait. . . and I kept on waiting and waiting . . . and then she wrote to me and told me about Charles. I knew then I dared not wait any longer in case I lost you forever; so I decided it was dine to reenter your life.’
‘Was that why you rented the Lodge?’
‘Yes . . . but nothing turned out the way I’d planned. Almost from the word “Go” I found that you and I had mysteriously got ourselves on the opposite sides of an argument. When I heard that Caroline was planning to sell the Abbey to Barrons, I was really worried. I knew all about their reputation, but I knew that if Caroline knew I was opposed to the sale. . . .’
‘So you pretended to be in agreement with it?’
‘I didn’t want to be thrown out of the Lodge, I needed to be near you,’ Blake told her. ‘Jaime, about last night. . . .’
‘It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life . . .’ Jaime said quietly, taking her courage in both hands. ‘Blake, I’ve never stopped loving you, never stopped regretting leaving you, never stopped wishing I hadn’t behaved so childishly. Every criticism you ever levelled at me was justified. I was immature, I did cling . . . not because you offered me security, but because I couldn’t understand what you
saw in me. I couldn’t believe you loved me. . . .’
‘I told you you were short on faith and trust.’
‘I thought you’d married me because you felt you had to—because I was a virgin,’ she said simply.
She felt him draw in his breath and then release it, and then his hands were on her shoulders, turning her face to him.
‘I married you because I loved you, because I couldn’t tolerate the thought of life without you, and then felt horribly guilty because I felt I’d used your inexperience to pressure you into a marriage you might later regret. We’ve both been guilty of confusing what is, basically, a very simple emotion, because, for different reasons, we couldn’t bring ourselves to believe in it and one another.’
‘Yes,’ said Jaime sadly.
‘I could wring Suzy’s neck for lying to me, but I blame myself more. I should never have believed her, but you’d been so cold towards me those last few days. . . .’
‘Because I suspected I might be pregnant, and I was trying to prepare myself for the loneliness I was convinced I would have to endure when you found out. I was sure you would leave me.’
‘Never,’ he averred softly. ‘I still love you Jaime, and last night meant something very special to me, too. A chance to show you with my body, if I couldn’t tell you the words, how much I still loved you.’
‘And I love you. . . .’
‘Which is just how it should be,’ Blake grinned, teasing her, but there was nothing teasing in the warm pressure of his lips on hers, and Jaime responded to it joyously, letting the love she had struggled to conceal for so long show in her response.
‘Now I know why you were so keen for us to come and live with you,’ she smiled.
‘Not entirely. I knew about Barrons’ threats, and yet was powerless to do anything about them.
And there is one other complication you don't know about yet. You know the Abbey had another purchaser?’
Jaime nodded her head, puzzled.
‘It’s me,’ Blake told her. ‘I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. I couldn’t help picturing you in every room, you and Fern, and the other children I wanted us to have, but I had to keep it a secret in case Barrons found out. The bulldozer episode was the the final clincher as far as Caroline was concerned. The very next day we signed contracts. If Barrons had known, they would have had even more reason to threaten you, Jaime. You’ll never know how bitter I felt when I realised you thought I could harm so much as a hair on your head ... I wanted so much to tell you it all then . . . but I was hurt, and I so wanted your love and your trust. . . .’
‘So you deliberately and sadistically allowed me to go on thinking the worst,’ Jaime said softly, remembering.
‘It’s all over now,’ Blake drew her head down on to his shoulder, ‘and, if you agree, we’ll move into the Abbey just as soon as we can. I intend to go on writing and, although there’ll be some travel, you can always come with me.’
‘I’ve grown up now, Blake,’ Jaime said gently. ‘I’m strong enough to trust. You see, all the time I knew I should suspect you I didn’t, because, in my heart, I still loved you. . . .’
‘Thank heavens for the leaking roof,’ Blake murmured piously, just before he kissed her.
‘Thank heavens indeed,’ Jaime echoed mentally, sliding her arms round him. From now on, there’d be no more separate beds, no more heartache or pain.
‘Blake . . .’ she began dreamily as his lips moved seductively over her face, ‘how do you feel about a brother or sister for Fern?’
‘Do you want me to tell you,’ he asked wickedly, ‘or show you?’
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN