‘Really?’ He closed his eyes wearily. ‘You could have fooled me.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS EXPECTED, Fenny was inconsolable when Leonie told her, as gently as she could, that the dog was missing. She cried most of the way home in the car, her only ray of light in the gloom the prospect of Jonah waiting to see her. To make it clear that everything possible was being done to find her beloved Marzi, Leonie described her search along the riverbed, and in glowing terms described Jonah’s bravery in abseiling down the cliff.
‘The thing is, Fen,’ she said, as she drew up outside the house, ‘Marzi is probably playing with another dog somewhere right this minute, having far too good a time to come home. He’ll be back soon. You’ll see.’
Fenny was unconvinced, and rushed to hurl herself at Frances when they went into the house. Once she’d calmed down and taken off her hat and blazer, Fenny looked round her, frowning, the striking green eyes meeting Leonie’s in accusation.
‘You said Jonah was here!’
‘He is,’ Frances assured her. ‘But he’s in bed in Jess’s room. He hurt his head when he was climbing up the cliff, so I put him to bed.’
Leonie gazed at her in awe. ‘How on earth did you manage that?’
‘I was nice to him,’ said her mother simply. Her lips twitched. ‘And to be honest I think Jonah was feeling so terrible by that stage he was beyond argument.’
‘Can I go and see him?’ said Fenny eagerly.
‘He’s sleeping at the moment, sweetheart. You can see him after you’ve had some tea and done your homework.’
The little girl sighed, then looked hopefully at Leonie. ‘I’ve got sums tonight—will you help me, Leo?’
It was a severe lesson in discipline for Leonie to sit at the kitchen table and drink tea with her mother, and try to reassure a very forlorn Fenny about the dog, when all the time every instinct was urging her to race upstairs to check on Jonah. Fool to think she was over him. Seven years or seventy, it obviously made no difference. All this time, far away in Italy, she’d been deluding herself, sure that her love for him had died the day she’d heard him with Rachel. But believing, for one horrifying moment, that he’d fallen down the cliff had set her straight once and for all.
‘In a minute, Leo, while Fenny does her homework, you can go up very quietly and see if Jonah would like something to drink,’ said Frances briskly. ‘And at the same time ask him if he’s up to receiving a little visitor.’
‘All right,’ said Leonie, elaborately casual as she made herself collect the cups and take the tray over to the sink first. Then she met her mother’s eye and saw that her act was a wash-out. She smiled sheepishly, and promised Fenny to help with the sums when she got back. ‘Though I’m sure a clever girl like you can do them on her own, really.’
Upstairs, Leo tapped quietly on Jess’s door and went in.
Jonah lay with eyes closed, propped up on frilly pillows which made an incongruous background for his bare, muscular shoulders. Bruises were coming up fast round his eyes, startling against the pallor of his face. Leonie tiptoed across to the bed, then halted as his eyes opened and looked straight into hers, transporting her straight back to the last time they had occupied a bedroom together. Heat rose in her face as the look in Jonah’s eyes told her he was remembering the same thing.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, deliberately formal.
‘Guilty for causing so much trouble.’ His mouth twisted. ‘My aim was help, not hindrance.’
‘You’re lucky you didn’t fall and break your neck,’ she said severely, seized by a sudden longing to climb in beside him.
‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘But in the end I didn’t even break my nose. I don’t suppose the dog has made it back home yet?’
Leonie sighed. ‘Afraid not. But Fenny has, and she wants to see you. Are you up for it?’
‘Of course.’ He smiled gingerly. ‘I hope my face won’t frighten her.’
‘No way. Wounded hero, and all that. You were top of her list before, but now you’ve risked life and limb to find Marzi she’s your slave for ever!’
‘I just wish my efforts had been successful—and caused less commotion,’ he added irritably.
‘We’re very grateful,’ Leonie assured him. ‘By the way, you must have something to drink. What would you like?’
‘I would like to get up and relieve you of my troublesome presence,’ said Jonah caustically, then winced as he levered himself higher.
‘Since you can’t even move without causing yourself pain that’s hardly a practical requirement,’ she retorted then her eyes softened. ‘Does your head hurt?’
‘Like hell,’ he admitted, swallowing.
‘Right,’ said Leonie, making for the door. ‘I’ll fetch some mild painkillers and something to wash it down with. I’ll tell Fenny not to stay long.’
When Leonie returned with a tray, Fenny was perched on the end of the bed, discussing the dog’s disappearance. ‘Perhaps Marzi’s gone off to live with some other little girl,’ she said forlornly.
‘Not a chance; he belongs to you,’ said Jonah firmly. ‘He’s probably lost his way, and someone will find him, and either bring him home or take him to the police station.’
Fenny climbed down off the bed disconsolately. ‘I wish he’d come home soon. It’s getting dark and he’ll be cold.’ She brightened suddenly. ‘Mummy says you’re going to sleep here tonight, Jonah.’
He shot a startled look at Leonie, who nodded in confirmation as she poured mineral water into a glass. ‘That’s right. Jonah’s head hurts, Fenny, so we’re going to keep him here until he’s better.’
‘Goody!’ Fenny cheered up considerably. ‘When I come up to bed I’ll read you a story, Jonah,’ she offered.
‘I’d like that very much,’ he assured her, looking rather white around the mouth.
‘Run down and finish your sums, darling,’ said Leonie, ‘and I’ll be down in a minute to check.’
Fenny gave the invalid a very careful kiss on the cheek, thanked him earnestly for his efforts to find her dog, then with reluctance trailed off to finish her homework.
‘I thought my stay in bed was a temporary arrangement,’ muttered Jonah.
‘You can’t drive,’ Leonie reminded him, giving him some pills. ‘And suppose I drove you back to Brockhill? Can you see my mother allowing you to go back to that comfortless lodge, with no proper bed and no one to look after you?’
Jonah washed the pills down with most of the water, then lay back on the pillows, looking haggard. ‘Put like that, Leo, no, I can’t.’ He gave her a brooding look. ‘You must be heartily sorry you made it home for the party, all things considered.’
‘Of course not. I’m glad I was here for Adam,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m even more glad I know the truth about Rachel. As you said the other night, it’s too late to mend things between you and me, but I’d like to think we can be friends.’
‘Oh, hell!’ Jonah tensed, his breathing suddenly rapid. ‘Leo—out of the way, please, I’m going to be sick.’ He slid out of bed and ran for the bathroom across the landing.
Leonie tidied the bed while he was out of the room, then waited until he staggered back.
‘Never mind getting back to Brockhill, I ought to take you back to the hospital and tell them to keep you in for observation,’ she warned, as she helped him into bed.
‘Not a chance!’ Jonah lay shivering, eyeing her with bitter hostility. ‘I think you’re enjoying this.’
‘Certainly not,’ she retorted. ‘Do you feel dizzy?’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I no longer feel sick, I am not dizzy, and I have no intention of going back to the hospital!’
‘All right, keep your hair on.’ Leonie tidied the covers briskly. ‘You’ve lost your painkillers, I suppose, but you’d better hang on a while before taking any more. Drink more water. Lots of it.’
‘Yes, Nurse,’ he said wearily, and closed his eyes.
‘That’s right,’ she said in
approval. ‘Try to sleep.’
When Tom Dysart came home Fenny was full of Marzi’s disappearance, the tragedy of it mitigated for her only slightly by the presence of Jonah Dysart in Jess’s bed. By the time Tom had heard the full story of Leonie’s search, Jonah’s ill-fated climb down the cliff and checked with his wife that all authorities possible had been contacted about the missing dog, it was time for Fenny to go to bed.
‘I’ll take you up tonight, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Then we can call in on Jonah so I can thank him.’
‘Ask him how he feels, and if he fancies some dinner later,’ said Frances. ‘If he’s not in the mood for roast chicken, offer scrambled eggs.’
Jonah’s presence upstairs in her sister’s bed made the evening difficult for Leonie, though he had declined all offers of food, other than some biscuits to drink with the tea Frances took up to him after the meal.
‘He looks ghastly,’ she reported when she returned to the study. ‘Though I suppose he got off lightly in the circumstance. He could have gone crashing to the foot of the cliff.’
A thought which had haunted Leonie all evening, interfering with her enthusism for dinner. ‘And after all that effort the dog’s still missing,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Poor Fenny.’
‘He’s bound to turn up,’ said her father firmly. ‘Someone will find him and bring him back.’
‘He’s a pedigree, though,’ said Frances, looking worried. ‘Do you think he could have been stolen?’
It was a thought which added to Leonie’s restless night later. She called in on Jonah on the way to bed, secretly disappointed to find him asleep. She stood looking down at his bruised face for a time, then turned off the bedside lamp and went to check on a sleeping Fenny, her heart wrung at the sight of the flushed, tearstained little face.
Men and dogs, thought Leonie morosely. No point in giving your heart to either life form; it only gets hurt at some time or other.
During the night she surfaced from a restless doze, wondering what had disturbed her. Then she shot upright at the sound of muffled sobbing, and leapt out of bed to run to Fenny’s room, pulling on a dressing gown as she went.
‘Darling, don’t,’ she said, gathering the little girl in her arms. ‘You’ll make yourself ill.’
‘I was dreaming,’ wept Fenny, clutching at Leonie.
‘Was it a bad dream?’
‘No—a lovely dream. Marzi was p-p-playing with me in the garden, but then I woke up and I remembered…’ Fenny sobbed bitterly, and Leonie held her close and rocked her in her arms until she was quiet.
It took a drink of water, a visit to the bathroom and a lot of cuddling before Leonie was able to settle the distraught Fenny back to sleep. Afterwards she went back along the landing to find Jonah propped in Jess’s doorway, arrayed in the dressing gown her father kept for holidays.
‘What’s wrong?’ he whispered. ‘Is she ill?’
Leonie drew him inside the room and shut the door as she explained. ‘Don’t let her hear you—it took me quite a while to settle her back. Are you all right? Do you want more pills?’
Jonah slumped down on a chair. ‘Thirst’s more my problem than headache right now. I’ve finished everything your mother left for me. I was about to take my glass to the bathroom tap when I heard you.’
‘I’ll get you another bottle of mineral water. Stay here, and don’t move until I get back,’ she ordered. ‘If you pass out on the floor I don’t fancy lugging you back into bed.’
Jonah gave her a hostile look, but stayed where he was, more because he felt too rotten to get up, Leonie could tell, rather than obedience to her instructions. When she returned, he was standing up, swaying so ominously she pushed him down on the bed impatiently.
‘For heaven’s sake sit there and be sensible, Jonah.’ She poured water into a glass and gave it to him. ‘Drink that.’
‘Yes, Nurse,’ he muttered, and drained the glass thirstily, looking drawn and haggard, the plaster on his nose startlingly white against his rapidly blackening eyes.
‘Let me help you off with that,’ she said briskly, as he stood up to take off the dressing gown.
‘Don’t worry, I’m quite respectable underneath,’ he assured her, and sat down rather suddenly on the edge of the bed. ‘Your mother gave me a pair of Adam’s pyjama trousers. Pristine and unworn, she told me.’
‘I didn’t know he had any,’ said Leonie, smiling a little. She eyed him uneasily. ‘Will you be all right now, Jonah?’
‘I’ll be fine. Go to bed, Leo, you look tired.’
‘It’s been quite a day,’ she pointed out. ‘Action-packed, and pretty scary at times.’
‘Sorry I added to the strain,’ he said sombrely. ‘I just wish we’d been able to find the dog.’
‘So do I,’ she said unsteadily, visited by a sudden desire to cry her eyes out, just like Fenny.
‘Come here,’ Jonah ordered, patting the bed.
Leonie slumped down beside him, shoulders hunched as she fished in her pocket for a tissue. ‘Sorry,’ she said thickly.
Jonah put a careful arm round her. ‘Even big girls cry, Leo.’
She scrubbed fiercely at her eyes. ‘I know. In Italy they say “piangi” at times like these. No one ever says “don’t cry”.’
‘Ah, yes. Italy.’ He removed his arm. ‘A timely reminder. Wouldn’t do to poach on someone else’s preserves.’
She turned to glare at him. ‘I’m not a pot of jam!’
‘True.’ His eyes gleamed as they met hers. ‘Honey, maybe?’ he countered softly, in a tone which made her toes curl.
Leonie stared, hypnotised, her heart thudding at the memory of Jonah’s passion for honey. When they’d shared breakfast in bed that last day together traces of it had lingered on his mouth afterwards, his caressing lips leaving stickiness on her breasts he’d taken so tormentingly long to lick away she’d been crazy for him by the time he’d finally made love to her. She saw Jonah’s eyes kindle, knew he was sharing the same memory, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.
Jonah leaned nearer, and very slowly drew her into his arms and cradled her against him, his breath catching as she melted, unresisting, against him. In contrast to his punitive kisses at Brockhill, Jonah’s lips touched hers with the merest feather of contact, the tip of his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth before his lips settled on hers, deeping the pressure, and her mouth opened in the old, familiar response she had never been able to control.
‘I was right,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘Pure, irresistible honey.’
Leonie shivered as he pushed the robe aside to caress her through the thin cotton jersey of her nightshirt. She gasped as her nipples stood up in peaks to his touch, then Jonah’s mouth was on hers in demand, and they fell back on the bed together, kissing wildly as his hands slid beneath the nightshirt to trace the outline of her hips before settling on them to hold her hard against him.
‘We shouldn’t be doing this—’ she whispered back.
‘Because your lover would object?’ he demanded harshly.
Leonie stiffened. Roberto had never entered her mind. ‘Not that. Though he would, of course. But you’re injured, remember.’ Angry with herself for losing control, she detached herself and stood up, tying the sash of her robe viciously tight. ‘Besides, you made it very clear the other night that it’s too late for anything like this between us.’
Jonah’s bruised eyes turned to ice. ‘Good of you to remind me. My thanks for the ministering angel act, Leonie. But your bedside manner could use some work. Goodnight. I won’t disturb you again.’
He was wrong about that, she thought miserably, as she got back into bed. It was disturbing to be in the same country with Jonah, let alone having him in the same house, with only a bedroom wall to separate them. Leonie lay looking out at the stars, thankful she’d pulled herself together before making a complete fool of herself. For a mad, abandoned moment she’d forgotten that her parents and Fenny were sleeping nearby, forgotten Roberto,
and everything else other than the bliss of being held close in Jonah’s arms again. His injury had been the only thing to keep her from surrendering unconditionally. And to a man who said it was too late for anything between them. She thumped her pillow in frustration. The chemistry between them was as powerful as ever, but not enough, it was obvious, to make up to him for her rejection.
CHAPTER NINE
NEXT morning Leonie was up at first light, hoping against hope that Marzi had made his way back. She peeped in on a sleeping Jonah, then ran downstairs to open the scullery door, her heart sinking when she found no sign of a panting, hungry dog waiting to be let in. She pulled on boots and a jacket and went on a protracted tour of the gardens and the wood, but in the end gave up and trudged back to the house to prepare breakfast.
After the first urgent enquiry about her beloved pet Fenny was very subdued, refusing to eat, and unwilling afterwards to go to school. ‘I want to stay home and look for Marzi,’ she said truculently.
It took a great deal of tact and firmness from the others before she gave in and put on her blazer and raincoat.
‘I’ll drive you to school this morning, sweetheart,’ said Frances, swallowing a second cup of tea. ‘I need some shopping.’
‘In that case I’ll get off,’ said Tom, kissing all his womenfolk in turn. ‘I could do with an early start today. See you tonight.’
‘Can I go up and say goodbye to Jonah before I go?’ demanded Fenny.
‘Go very quietly, but if he’s still asleep don’t wake him. Jonah’s not very well, remember,’ warned Frances. ‘But if he is awake, ask him if he’s hungry.’
‘He was fast asleep when I got up,’ Leonie reported.
‘You obviously had a bad night,’ said her mother after the little girl hurried off. ‘Fenny told me about her dream. I heard you go to her so I left you to it, especially when I heard Jonah’s voice.’
‘He was thirsty,’ said Leonie, avoiding her mother’s eye. ‘I went down to get him some mineral water.’
‘He’s probably hungry, too, by this time, so I’ll leave you to cook whatever he wants, Leo.’ Frances smiled wryly. ‘I actually do need some shopping, but my real reason for the school run is to tell Fenny’s teacher about the dog. She’s liable to have a concentration problem today.’
A Vengeful Reunion Page 9