The Only One

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The Only One Page 13

by Penny Jordan


  She moved and became conscious that she was still in his arms, her fingertips drifted over his chest, her body coiling achingly. It wasn’t yet dawn and in her naivety she had expected to wake up exhausted by their lovemaking, but instead there was this unbelievable sensation of wellbeing, and a finely tuned and insistent hunger for Adam that made her want to smile and cry at the same time.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’

  She hadn’t realised that Adam was awake and the abruptness of his stark question halted her caress.

  Honesty and an instinct for self-preservation warred and then remembering how she had practically begged him to make love to her Brooke settled for honesty.

  ‘Not really….’ Avoiding his eyes she added candidly, ‘I think I’d be aching more if you hadn’t made love to me than I am because you did, although in a different way.’ Humour tilted the corners of her mouth and because she wasn’t looking at him the explosively harsh sound against her ear made her jerk round. Expecting to see laughter she was shocked by the pallor of Adam’s skin, and the expression in his eyes. He took her face in his hands, almost bruising her skin with the depth of pressure he was exerting, and her hunger became a raging need.

  Compulsively, almost silently, Adam began to make love to her, and Brooke responded, matching him caress for caress following him without hesitation, sometimes awed, sometimes bewildered by the depth of her own sensuality. This time his appetite for her seemed fiercer, keener, and yet less urgent, some of his earlier tension gone. The culmination of their lovemaking came surprisingly quickly, overwhelming her with its wild rush of pleasure.

  ‘There are so many things I want to teach you, show you….’ Adam murmured afterwards, caressing her gently into sleep, soothing her with the hypnotic stroke of his hands against her skin.

  The next time she woke up it was light and she was alone. Panic, sharp and agonising ripped through her, a bitter foretaste of what the rest of her life was likely to be like, Brooke acknowledged shakily. She couldn’t regret what had happened, but where was she going to find the strength now to face the rest of her life without Adam?

  The bedroom door opened and he walked in carrying a tray; the sight of him instantly transporting her back to London and another morning … her skin paled, her eyes unknowingly shadowed and bruised. She saw his mouth compress and her heart sank.

  ‘Coffee and croissants,’ he told her in a clipped voice, putting the tray down beside her. Whereas in the night her nudity had not concerned her at all, now, suddenly she was reluctant to sit up knowing that if she did the sheet would slip. A brief frown scored Adam’s forehead and then he leaned down, plucking the shirt he had discarded the previous night, off the floor. ‘Here,’ he told her tersely, ‘put this on.’

  He strolled over to the window while she did so, his legs long and bare beneath the hem of his robe. Brooke’s heart turned over, her senses betraying her as she caught the male scent of him that clung elusively to his shirt.

  ‘Coffee?’ Without waiting for her response Adam poured a generous amount into both cups, adding cream before handing one to her. There was a small parcel on the tray, beautifully packaged and Brooke stared at it as though mesmerised.

  ‘Your Christmas present,’ Adam told her softly. ‘For some reason I forgot to give it to you last night.’

  ‘Is that why you flew out here?’ There was a tight knot of pain in Brooke’s voice occasioned by the withdrawal she sensed in him, but sheer dogged necessity forcing her to play his game.

  ‘Yes.’ Now his voice was distinctly terse. He was regretting last night already Brooke thought defeatedly, and was probably wondering how on earth he was going to extricate himself from the situation. Well, if he thought she was going to make a fuss he would soon find out that he was wrong. She had known all along that he didn’t love her…. Her fingers toyed with the gift wrapping, and Adam’s brows drew together in an impatient frown. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

  Forcing a wan smile Brooke did so. A small square box emerged from the wrappings, and she frowned, recognising the famous name of the jeweller stamped into the leather. Her querying, hesitant glance meshed with Adam’s. ‘Open it,’ he commanded brusquely. He picked up his own coffee cup, without drinking, watching her so intently that feathers of alarm quivered up and down her spine.

  Her fingers trembled as she opened the box, the clasp slightly stiff, the lid flipping back to reveal a perfect emerald ring surrounded by the flashing fire of encircling diamonds.

  ‘Adam …’ her voice was strained and tense. ‘I…. What is this?’ she managed at last.

  ‘Your engagement ring.’ His voice was cool and remote. ‘We’re flying back to London this afternoon, and we’ll be married at the end of the week. Don’t tell me you didn’t want to marry me Brooke,’ he said quietly, lifting her left hand and kissing the inside of her wrist before he slid the ring on to her finger.

  ‘Why?’ She couldn’t take it in, couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘It’s time I had a wife … children…. It’s what we both want Brooke. You know me well enough to know I never do anything I don’t want to do, and I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t give yourself lightly.’

  ‘But why me?’ She was still dazed; disbelieving.

  ‘Why not?’ His glance was wryly mocking. ‘Don’t underestimate yourself Brooke. You have all the characteristics men value most in their wives. You’re loyal, trustworthy, beautiful, chaste….’ His tongue lingered over the last word, and Brooke knew unbelievably that it was true, Adam actually wanted to marry her!

  ‘Last night,’ she began breathlessly, only to break off as his mouth twisted almost bitterly.

  ‘Not quite what I’d intended. Oh I intended to make love to you all right,’ he told her, correctly interpreting her expression, ‘but with rather more finesse and rather less fervour. Some things, it seems, cannot be controlled or planned for. You see Brooke when I make plans I like to be sure that they have a good chance of success, and that entails careful groundwork. I wasn’t sure if you would marry me, but I knew you wanted me. You realise you could already have conceived our child.’

  The heady thrill his soft words brought was quenched by a sudden storm of doubts. Adam had said nothing of love; nothing of feelings, only of ‘plans’.

  ‘Adam….’

  ‘No arguments,’ he told her curtly. ‘Everything’s arranged….’

  ‘You were so sure of me?’

  ‘You jump like a nervous fawn every time I come anywhere near you. When I kissed you, the way your body responded to mine, told me you weren’t indifferent to me. You’ve remained a virgin for too long for it to be an accident or a whim. The fact that we’re lovers tells me that you feel something for me. I could have waited until after we are married to possess you but then I would never have known what was desire and what was duty. Last night was all desire wasn’t it, Brooke?’

  Desire and love, she amended mentally, avoiding looking at him. Something was desperately wrong. She should be feeling ecstatically happy but instead she felt apprehensive, full of nervous dread. And yet she knew that if Adam wanted to marrry her, she would do. She was too weak to resist the temptation.

  ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed.’ He sounded so ridiculously formal that she wanted to laugh, only it was tears that weren’t so very far away, not laughter, and suddenly she longed for Adam to take her in his arms and kiss away all her doubts and fears.

  They left three hours later, after the LeBruns had returned in time to admire and exclaim over the emerald glowing richly on Brooke’s ring finger.

  During the flight back Adam appeared preoccupied and rather than intrude on his thoughts Brooke kept her attention to her small window.

  They landed at Heathrow without incident, where a chauffeur-driven car was waiting to meet them.

  ‘I’ll drop you off at the apartment,’ Adam announced brusquely as they were driven into London. ‘I’ve got several things to attend to, but I shouldn
’t be gone too long.’

  He wasn’t gone as long as Brooke had expected, returning as she was unpacking her suitcase in the guest room she had used before. He walked in and leaned up against the wall, studying her almost broodingly, his eyes like ice as he demanded coldly, ‘What exactly are you doing?’

  ‘Unpacking my things. Then I thought I’d ring Abbot’s Meade, just to make sure that Balsebar is behaving himself.’

  ‘I spoke to Tod on Christmas Eve both dog and man are doing fine. I can see I’m going to have to tell that mut that from now on he doesn’t come first in your life.’ The look he gave her was so blazingly possessive that Brooke could feel a surge of responsive heat deep inside her body, as it responded to the sexually charged magnetism of Adam’s scrutiny. ‘Make no mistake about it Brooke,’ he added still watching her, ‘I expect and intend to be the most important thing in your life from now on.’

  ‘How very chauvinistic of you.’ She said the words lightly, half turning away from him. This was a side to Adam she hadn’t seen before. He had meant every carefully chosen word he had said, and yet he didn’t love her.

  Her skin prickled warningly as she felt his proximity. He had moved so quickly and quietly that she hadn’t been aware of it, but now she was aware of him, deep down in her bones and insides. His fingers bit tautly into her arm as he swung her round to face him, and beneath the sardonic control of his features Brooke sensed a fierce energy, and something else she couldn’t put a name to.

  ‘I mean it Brooke,’ he told her tightly. ‘No wife of mine will ever join the lover swapping circuit so many of my colleagues’ wives embark on.’ His glance was like a whiplash, scoring her skin, so that she made an involuntary movement to step away from him, which resulted only in a further tightening of his grasp. There was pain in the way his fingers held her and yet there was also an intense sexual pleasure. Brooke shivered, not sure if she liked this glimpse of a side of her nature she hadn’t known existed. She wanted to pull away from Adam, to taunt him until that fine control she sensed within him was broken and he had no alternative but to subdue her with his mouth and body.

  She shivered again. ‘Subdue,’ she tasted the word a little distastefully. What had happened to all her dearly held views on marriage and partnership? Why did she feel this surge of aching need at the thought of the hungry violence of Adam’s lovemaking? Human responses were never easy things to understand, she told herself shakily. Adam had awakened in her a hunger she hadn’t known herself capable of.

  ‘I wonder what’s going through your mind right at this minute?’ Adam’s softly spoken question caught her attention. ‘You’ve changed, Brooke,’ he told her. ‘When we first met you were very easy to read, but now you’ve learned how to hide your thoughts from me. A gift of your class of women,’ he added derisively. ‘Always polite and charming on the surface, but underneath all too ready and eager to cheat on their husbands; and on their lovers.’

  What did he mean, ‘her class of woman’ Brooke wondered worriedly, shivering again. Did Adam really think she would cheat on her marriage vows?

  ‘If women are unfaithful to their husbands, at least half the time those husbands are to blame,’ she countered, lifting her chin to glare defiantly at him, and glorying in the sudden glitter of anger darkening his eyes.

  ‘If you’re ever unfaithful to me, I’ll….’

  ‘Beat me? Lock me in my room on a diet of bread and water?’ Her voice mocked him, her excitement growing, pushing her to break through the barriers of his control. He tensed and Brooke felt her heart start to thud heavily. He only needed to bend his head to kiss her. She ached for him to do so, but instead he released her, moving slightly away, no sign of anger or any other emotion displayed in his face as he said calmly, ‘No, I’d simply make love to you until your body was too sated to even think of another lover.’

  He turned and headed for the door, pausing there to throw over his shoulder, ‘Which brings me back to what I was going to say originally. What are you doing in here?’

  ‘Unpacking my things,’ Brooke repeated looking perplexed.

  ‘In three days’ time we’re going to be married,’ he told her softly. ‘I want you in my bed, tonight and every night from now on Brooke.’

  ‘Even though I’m an inexperienced virgin….’ She couldn’t resist throwing the taunt at him. It was born of a mixture of anguish and self-mockery, because she knew that no matter how much he desired her physically, he had no real emotional feelings for her.

  ‘Were,’ he corrected her, his glance sliding insolently over her body. ‘And as for your inexperience….’ His eyes darkened and Brooke could tell his thoughts had turned inwards. ‘Well let’s just say that in spite of it, or perhaps because of it, you made me feel like no woman has made me feel in as long as I can remember. Your face doesn’t lie when it proclaims you a sensualist, Brooke. Oh, your mind may have subdued those natural urges; you may have resented my sex’s reaction to you, but last night fulfilled every promise your face and body has ever made to me, and you enjoyed it as much as I did,’ he added before she could speak. ‘When I woke up this morning you were still lying in my arms, and when I touched you you responded to me even in your sleep. It’s no use trying to lie about it, Brooke,’ he added warningly.

  ‘I wasn’t going to.’ Her body was stiff and tense with pain. ‘I was simply going to ask you if you really thought that mere sexual desire was a good grounds for basing a marriage on.’

  ‘Had you been sexually promiscuous, with a long list of lovers to your credit, then no,’ he told her frankly, ‘because I could never be sure you would stay faithful to me. But I’m your first lover Brooke, and you’re fastidious and proud enough to keep the vows you make me.’

  ‘But you …’ Brooke protested, her earlier misgivings returning. This wasn’t how they should be entering marriage; ‘What will you gain?’

  ‘I’ve already told you. A woman who feels good in my bed; a charming hostess used to moving in all the right circles, a mother for my children.’ He saw the expression on her face and laughed softly. ‘Ah yes, that as well Brooke. You want children, don’t you?’

  ‘I want your children,’ she longed to say, but knew she could not, just as she knew that despite all her misgivings she was going to marry Adam, and somehow that knowledge hurt her pride.

  * * *

  They were married three days later, as Adam had told her. To her surprise the ceremony was a religious and not a civil one, and Adam had arranged a large reception at the Dorchester.

  ‘If it was summer, we could have held the reception at Abbot’s Meade,’ he told her as they drove towards the Dorchester after the ceremony, ‘but the construction work is nowhere near finished yet and it’s far too cold to think of a marquee in the park.’

  Brooke hadn’t had time to speak to any of the guests as they left the church and she felt her stomach churn with nervousness as she contemplated meeting Adam’s friends and business acquaintances.

  ‘I’m surprised you planned such a large reception,’ she commented, smoothing down the wild silk fabric of her dress. Adam had insisted on a traditional wedding dress, although she had opted for a very pale cream rather than white, knowing that it suited her complexion and colour better. It was cut on the simplest of lines and because she was tall she had been able to get away with a beautiful spray of cream flowers. There had been no bridesmaids, mainly because of the shortage of time, and Tod had been Adam’s best man. Brooke had sensed a slight constraint in Tod before the ceremony but her anxious queries about Balsebar had proved unnecessary. The dog was apparently in excellent health. Pushing aside her feelings of unease, Brooke folded her hands neatly in her lap and concentrated on the middle distance.

  It was a trick of composure her mother had taught her, but for some reason it seemed to annoy Adam. She could see his mouth tightening as he turned towards her.

  ‘You look like a martyr going to the flames,’ he told her savagely, shocking her with his bitternes
s. He would have said more, she was sure, but they had reached the Dorchester and the car had stopped.

  The doorman helped them out, and Adam put his hand under her elbow as he helped Brooke inside. To an outsider they would probably present a very romantic picture, she thought miserably as they were conducted to their private room.

  Everyone else was already assembled, and a bewildering almost frightening sea of unfamiliar faces met Brooke’s gaze as the doors were thrown open. At least some of the faces were familiar; she could see Brockbanks, Sam beaming paternally at her; and Tod of course waiting for them on the top table. She could also see Susan Crawford and her heart missed a beat as she saw the cold glitter of a huge diamond ring on the other woman’s left hand. At her side stood a small, slightly balding man Brooke didn’t recognise, his hand resting proprietorally on Susan’s arm.

  Adam had obviously followed her gaze, because Brooke saw his mouth tighten as he too looked at the couple and the feeling of misgiving she had had ever since he announced his intention to marry her began to crystallise into a hard knot of fear.

  Throughout the meal Brooke tried to smile and appear relaxed, but in fact she was a tightly coiled bundle of nerves. They weren’t having a honeymoon because the work at Abbot’s Meade had reached a very critical stage and Adam wanted to be there to supervise it. From now on the Dower House would be their permanent home, and although she knew she should have felt pleased, all she could feel was a cold hard lump of misery.

  Tod raised his glass to toast them, and Brooke forced another smile. Tod looked almost as worried as she felt. She was pleased to see that all his family had been invited. He had pointed them out to her during the meal. They looked a warm and friendly crowd, unlike the majority of the guests. How many real friends apart from Tod’s family, did Adam have, she wondered, studying them. He wasn’t a man who gave anything of himself easily, nor would he trust readily, and she knew from what Tod had told her that he bitterly resented the snubs he had been given in the early days of his business career.

 

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