Playing Safe

by Claudia Jameson

  'Paris?' Demetrius stiffened slightly, his eyes scanning those of his sister, not unlike the way they had scanned Grace's when she had first arrived. They were full of questions.

  Grace spoke up quickly. 'Melissa, I think that what you have to tell Demetrius straight away is that you're completely over… you know. Reassure him you're not going to run off to Athens when he hands your passport over.'

  Melissa did just that. It was all as easy as Grace had expected it to be. The teenager was joyous, she could hardly contain her excitement. She couldn't seem to stop talking, even after everything had been settled, after she had shown her brother the letters from France: from the academy, from Marianne and her family.

  Grace kept glancing at her watch, very surreptitiously. She could hardly tell Melissa to shut up, to keep her excitement to herself, but it was almost half-past eleven before she said she was going to bed, before she finally left Grace and Demetrius alone.

  The atmosphere in the room changed instantly, suddenly the two of them were like strangers. Neither of them seemed to have anything to say. Demetrius got up, poured himself another drink and asked if she would like a refill.

  'No, I—no, thanks.'

  The door opened. Melissa was back. 'Demetrius, you are agreeable to my leaving in July, aren't you? I mean, that'll give me a chance—'

  'To see something of Paris while Marianne's on holiday. Yes, Melissa. You did mention it earlier.'

  'But you didn't say yes.'

  'Yes. Yes, yes, yes,' he smiled. 'Anything you like!'

  She gave a whoop and disappeared again.

  Grace was glad of her reappearance, it had broken the tension. 'She's a good girl, Demetrius. I'm sure she'll make a go of this. It will be the sort of career that will enable her to work anywhere in the world, if she wants to.'

  'I've no doubt she will. I think she'll make a go of it, she's certainly keen. I don't remember her being so enthusiastic about anything before—except that boy. I gather she told you all about that? Everything?'

  'Everything.' His face had changed, had grown taut. Feeling obliged to say something further, Grace added, 'It's over, Demetrius. She was seventeen and she made a mistake. We all make them. You have to forgive her.'

  'I forgave her long since.' He was still leaning on the bar, making no attempt to get closer to her. 'I just don't want her to make the same mistake again.'

  'She's hardly likely to do that, it was a hard lesson.'

  'I know, I think you're right. That's why I have no qualms about letting her loose in Paris.'

  He paused, and silence hung in the air for seconds. Grace filled it by apologising; she could sense his frustration, she had been aware of it all along. 'I'm sorry about tonight, I couldn't very well—'

  'No. I know. Forget it.' He looked at his watch. 'You don't have to dash off, do you?'

  She should have said yes, but she didn't. She had to be up early to give Matty a hand tomorrow, and Thomas would be arriving with Sally Radcliffe in the morning, she wasn't sure what time. He was giving her a lift down from Cambridge.

  But she didn't have a chance to answer Demetrius one way or another. It was hopeless, Melissa was back. Again. This time she didn't merely pop her head round the door, she came in. It obviously hadn't occurred to her it might be inappropriate. 'Demetrius, we didn't talk about money. I mean my keep and everything. We discussed everything else except—'

  His patience ran out. 'Tomorrow,' he said firmly. 'We'll discuss it tomorrow. Now scoot, Melissa. And do not interrupt us again, please.'

  'Oh!' Her eyes went straight to Grace, an apology in them. She mouthed the words and retreated rapidly.

  Grace watched as Demetrius downed the drink he'd poured. She got to her feet. 'I'd better go, it is late.'

  'No!' He moved, quickly, to where she was standing. 'I—I've been doing a lot of thinking since we were last together.'

  'You mean since we fought.'

  'Fought? Yes, I suppose that's what it was. You said some pretty outrageous things, Grace.'

  She stiffened inwardly. 'You were pretty outrageous yourself.'

  'I meant, what I meant was—dammit, I've got so much to say to you, I don't know where to begin.'

  She sighed. 'Well… I've got to be up early tomorrow and it's turned midnight.'

  'Wait!' He reached for her, his hands clamping firmly on her shoulders. It was by no means a delicate touch, but it got to her just the same. His touch, any kind of touch, was enough to make her pulses go into overdrive. 'Just a minute, please. Grace, I—I had no idea, you realise that, don't you?'

  'About what?'

  'You, your lack of experience, as you put it.' He looked troubled, apologetic. In turn, it made her feel silly, but he was determined to say what he wanted to say. 'I had assumed… assumed otherwise. You appear to be so sophisticated, so—hey, there's no need to blush! I was touched, I am touched. It made me feel… I don't know how to explain it. I've been blaming myself all week, I kept thinking about what happened to Melissa in Athens and—'

  'That's ridiculous.' She shrugged his hands from her shoulders, stepping away from him. If he kept his hands on her she wouldn't be able to think properly. 'Melissa was seventeen and I'm twenty-four. You never took advantage, I know how your mind's been working, but you can't compare me with your sister. I am by no means an innocent.'

  'But you are,' he said softly, smiling.

  She looked away, her blush deepening. 'I think it's laughable.'

  Very quietly, he said, 'I don't.' He saw her eyes move to the door. 'It's all right, Melissa won't come in here again, it's more than she dare do.'

  'I know.'

  'So why the anxiety? You want to run away, is that it? Are you afraid of me, Grace?'

  'Of course not.' It was just that she wished he would get it over with. 'Why don't you just say it, Demetrius? You've discovered I'm not your kind of woman, so that's it. We're finished.'

  'Finished?' He looked as though she had slapped him. 'Finished? Grace, I love you!' He said it again, very quietly this time. 'Not only are you very much my kind of woman, not only do I want you, I happen to love you.'

  She could do no more than stare at him, hoping against hope that he was sincere, that he really meant what he had said.

  'Tell me,' he urged, 'tell me what you're thinking and feeling. I want to hear you say the words.'

  She couldn't. This—all of it—it was too much to hope for, it couldn't be real. 'I—want you, too.' It was all she could manage.

  Demetrius smiled without humour. 'No, not that. I know that. What else, my darling? What else do you feel for me?'

  Gripped by an irrational panic, she turned her head away. Did he mean what he'd said? Did he? If only she could be sure of him…

  He caught hold of her, his hand cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. 'I'm not talking about desire. If you were out specifically to seduce me tonight, you'd fail.'

  Her laughter was nervous, wobbly. 'I don't believe that.'

  Demetrius laughed, too. 'I can understand that. But it's become a matter of principle,' he added, serious again. 'You've accused me of lying to you, of inveigling, and my principles, my pride, don't take very kindly to that.'

  'That—that's honest of you.'

  'I've always been honest with you,' he said softly. He still had hold of her, gently, at arm's length. 'Isn't it high time you were honest with me? Tell me, tell me what it is you're thinking, feeling.'

  There was, she knew, no point in holding back any longer. He already knew. 'I love you,' she said on a sigh. 'I love you, Demetrius.'

  He gathered her into his arms, he kissed her long and hard—yet there was a certain tenderness about it, too. It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before. Grace believed it was she who was making it somehow different. All that she felt for him was expressed in the way she kissed him in return: love, tenderness, respect, desire, everything. It seemed as if an eternity had passed since she was last in his arms.

  Reluctantly h
e raised his head, his mouth against her temple. 'That's what I wanted to hear, there's a good girl! It's a relief, isn't it, being able to say it finally? Oh, Grace, you don't know how desperately I've wanted to hear you say those words!'

  'You—you knew? When did you know?'

  'I haven't known for long. I had to think things through and work it out for myself. All this time I've…been hoping. I've waited and waited for you to give yourself to me. At first I wanted it to be simply because you wanted it, too, with your mind as well as your body, but as time passed I wanted more than that from you. Don't you see, I kept my hands off you as best I could because I loved you. I wanted you to love me as I love you.'

  Grace stiffened in his arms. He held her tighter, so tightly she could hardly breathe. But she couldn't get enough of it. She didn't want him ever to let her go.

  'I mean it, Grace. I've loved you for a long time. I thought—you gave no sign of how you really felt about me. On the contrary. It was only after you made your offer on the phone earlier this week that I realised. That, after you'd told me I would be the first. I can't tell you how much I loved you for that, how much it meant to me.'

  'But—you were angry with me!'

  'Briefly, very briefly, my darling. And only because I knew how your mind was working, that you assumed the continuation of our relationship hinged on sex. It didn't make me feel good, I can tell you. But as soon as I put the phone down and thought about it, I understood. I knew it could mean only one thing.'

  'Quite the detective, aren't you?' She wriggled away from him a little so she could look at him. 'And now? As you once asked me, what happens next?'

  Demetrius took both her hands in his and led her to the settee. He was laughing. 'Sit down and I'll tell you. We get married, of course.' He laughed again when he saw the look of shock on her face. 'Dear God, you really have had your doubts, haven't you? You didn't believe me when I told you I love you, and you still don't! Grace Allinson, what do I have to do, put it in writing?'

  'But—'

  'But nothing. There are no buts. I love you and I want to marry you just as quickly as it can be arranged.'

  'Demetrius, you—you're not the marrying kind.'

  He seemed taken aback. 'Who says?'

  'You. Melissa. Me. Everyone.'

  'What nonsense! I've never actually said that, and what would Melissa know? She doesn't know how I feel about you, not the full extent of it, anyway.'

  'But—but you're thirty-six years old.'

  'What on earth has that got to do with anything?' He was serious again, very. 'Are you worrying about our age difference, is that it?'

  'No, you idiot. I mean—all these years, you've escaped from marriage.'

  'Escaped? My darling, don't you understand? Still? Oh, I've loved before, sort of. Briefly. But never like this, I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. With you it's everything, Grace, it's everything. I can't settle for less than marriage with you. I want to bring up a family with you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, every hour of every day with you, every night…' He grinned, sliding his arms around her. 'Especially every night.'

  'Demetrius, you really are incorrigible!' She held him away, a half-hearted effort. 'Why didn't you say any of this before, when you made what I thought was a stupid and insincere proposal, last Sunday?'

  'You didn't give me the chance.' He shrugged, realising his answer wasn't good enough. 'Think about it, about the circumstances. I was—wound up to say the least. I wasn't thinking straight, you were screaming at me. I was talking off the top of my head and yet I meant it. Grace, all I've been waiting for was a sign from you that you felt the same way. I would have married you weeks ago.' He paused, sighing. 'Well, to be practical, there was also the problem of Melissa.'

  'What problem?'

  'You know what I mean, my darling. I couldn't have expected you to live with her, to start married life with my crazy sister in the same house. It wouldn't have been fair to you, I wouldn't have expected it of you.'

  'I love Melissa,' Grace said honestly. 'I really do. Though I have to admit,' she added, because it was the truth, 'I wouldn't relish the idea of living with her!'

  'Well, that particular problem has been solved for us, for the next two years at least. Knowing her, she'll come back from Paris married or something.' He smiled, reaching for her again. His kiss was familiar in its hunger this time, as his mouth moved against hers, as she invited his exploration, and they drank deeply of one another, embracing tightly, unable to get close enough. But, again, Demetrius called a halt.

  'Demetrius, for heaven's sake, stop teasing me!'

  He didn't, he kissed her again and again, holding her at bay once more when she was so far gone that she couldn't think straight. 'Ah, but revenge is sweet!'

  'Demetrius—'

  'Control yourself, woman!'

  She didn't, she slid her hand along his thigh. 'But, darling, what about our…unfinished business?'

  He looked heavenward. 'Precisely. You haven't said you'll marry me yet.'

  Grace hooted at that. 'What is this, blackmail?'

  'If that's how you want to see it. So?'

  'Marry you? I'll do anything to get my hands on your body!'

  'You're a wicked, wicked woman, Grace Allinson, and I love you. Now keep your distance,' he added, grinning. 'You're a drug to me, and I am totally and completely hooked. Do you think they'll still be up, at the manor?'

  'What time is it?'

  Unbelievably, it was a quarter to three.

  'A quarter to three!' Grace was horrified. 'I hope nobody's waited up for me!'

  'What's the problem?'

  'They'll be worried, they'll be demented!'

  'Why, when you're with me?'

  'That's why!' she laughed.

  He tickled her, running his hands over her ribs until she was helpless. She collapsed against him, begging him to stop. 'Please, darling, stop that!'

  'Then say it and say it properly this time. Say you'll marry me before Melissa goes away.'

  She sobered. Yes, it would have to be before Melissa went to Paris in July, she would simply have to be at their wedding. She would miss Sir Nigel's marriage to Phyllis, but she wasn't going to miss her brother's wedding.

  'I'll marry you, Demetrius, just as quickly as I can.' Grace smiled; it looked as if she was going to be a June bride. 'Indeed,' she added, thinking aloud, 'it looks as though I'm going to beat my father to the altar!' She was thinking about her father, wondering how much of a surprise this would be to him. To anyone. It seemed that she was the most surprised of all, now she came to think about it.

  'Since Nigel isn't getting married till the end of August, the answer to that is yes, you are, and we'll be away for several weeks on a long, long honeymoon. We'll come back a few days before his wedding. When are we going to tell him?'

  'Tomorrow night, when we're celebrating his engagement to Phyllis.'

  'Right, that's when we'll announce ours—and in the morning we'll go shopping for a ring. You don't think they'll mind our stealing a little of their limelight?'

  Grace closed her eyes, there were tears in them because she was so indescribably happy. 'No,' she said softly. 'I don't think they'll mind in the least…'