Challenge

by Sophie Weston

  She considered Leandro under her lashes. She wondered if he had any real idea how attractive he was. She was beginning to suspect that, in spite of his vainglorious teasing, he was actually quite oblivious of his own charm.

  But what had he been doing at Genoa? And why would he not talk about it? She brushed the flickering suspicion away. He would tell her when he wanted to. In the meantime, she knew him well enough to believe that it was nothing dishonourable.

  Jessica squared her shoulders and followed him as he swarmed down a rope ladder from the deck.

  `Gosh, we are bolting,' she said breathlessly, when her feet touched a wooden floor. 'Where. .

  He gave a soft laugh. 'Round the bay. As many times as it takes,' he said, and let out the throttle.

  It was the speedboat. The floor was not wood after all. Jessica registered it with dismay as he cast off and turned the boat out to sea.

  Above the roar of the engine she could hardly think, much less make herself heard. And, as this time they were without the services of a helmsman, Leandro was concentrating all his attention on the boat.

  Jessica fell back against the bench seat, a hand at her throat. The boat heaved and pulled like a wild animal. She could feel the powerful engines pounding. The deck beneath her feet shook with them.

  `Leandro. . .' She had to shout.

  He turned his face towards her, laughing. He was clearly exhilarated by the activity. He was wearing his dark glasses again, but his whole expression was openly one of delight. He shook back his hair as the spray broke over the cockpit shield.

  `Wonderful!' he shouted back. 'This is freedom for you!'

  If Jessica had been alarmed at their previous journey, this trip terrified her. He seemed to be playing with the boat as if it was indeed a wild animal and one that he was determined to master. The spray drummed against the protective shield with the regularity of gunfire. The boat bucked and rolled. And the distant shore shot past them at a rate that made it feel as if they were on a racetrack rather than at sea.

  Jessica closed her eyes. It did not help very much, but at least she did not know exactly how fast they were going if she kept her eyes shut.

  It brought back all the worst nightmares: the sound of the engines, the sensation of speed, the smell of petrol. And her own frozen terror, unable to move, unable to protest.

  She gave a little moan which Leandro did not hear. In a moment she would be sick with fear. She could not bear it, and yet she was too afraid to touch him, to distract him from his struggle with this demon vessel, in case she surprised him into a mistake and they ended up drowning or, worse, run over by the monster. She began to gabble lines of half-forgotten poetry in her head in a vain attempt to calm her senses.

  At last it was over. At last the boat slowed and he cut the engine first to a purr, then to nothing. In the sudden silence the boat rocked as gently as a cradle. Leandro turned to her.

  `My darling. . .' He broke off. 'What is it? Jessica, my love, what on earth is it?'

  She could not speak. She could not even move, she was trembling so hard. She simply held out her hands to him.

  He took her in his arms in a movement so violent that it sent the boat rocking furiously. His head moved against her tousled hair.

  `Tell me,' he commanded.

  `I It's very stupid.' Her voice did not sound like

  her own. It was a mere thread of sound, shaky like faulty tape.

  `It doesn't matter, tell me.'

  `I—I'm afraid of speed,' she said simply. She pushed her head hard into his shoulder. 'I always have been. Ever since my father. .

  He lifted a hand and cradled her head.

  `Your father? You told me he was killed in a car accident. Oh, God, are you going to tell me you were in the car?'

  She nodded, her voice suspended. His arms tightened convulsively.

  He swore long and softly. She pulled herself away from him, knuckling her eyes.

  `It doesn't matter. You weren't to know. My mother and I were both in the car, you see. My mother won't drive now. I'm not quite as bad as that, but. .

  `But you don't like speed,' he finished for her. 'And I have to throw Lamborghinis and speedboats at you like a macho schoolboy!'

  His voice was so full of fury that she was moved. She put a hand on his shoulder, touching the hair behind his ear shyly but comfortingly.

  `No, you mustn't think like that. I could have told you. And for most people it would have been a great treat.'

  `And that's what I assumed, didn't I?' Leandro said bitterly. 'Just like you said. I made no allowance for the differences between us. I kept saying they didn't matter. And look what I've done to you as a result! You're trembling like a leaf, my poor love.'

  `Like a coward,' Jessica said more strongly. She shook him a little. 'You're not to blame yourself because I'm an irredeemable coward.'

  `I'm a fool,' he said, unheeding. 'A blind, insensitive, arrogant fool.'

  `That's no worse than being a blind, over-sensitive, arrogant fool,' Jessica said dispassionately.

  She was still shaking, but her voice had gained remarkably in strength. She continued, however, to cling to him. He looked down at her.

  `I thought we'd go ashore,' he said hesitantly. 'But if you'd rather go back. .

  She shook her head.

  `Or I could leave you here and come and collect you by road?'

  She shook her head again. 'I'll be fine. Let's go and sit on the beach. Just let's take the journey back a bit more slowly, mmm?'

  His arms tightened again. 'Half a knot all the way,' he promised. 'And now let's get you on to dry land.'

  But she could not stand, her legs were trembling too much. She felt a fool and said so, but when she tried to stand her knees buckled and she reached for the side like an old woman.

  Leandro caught her.

  `I shall have to carry you,' he said, not without a certain satisfaction, Jessica thought.

  He did so. They both got extremely wet.

  It was not the beach to which he had brought her before. It was hardly a beach at all, just a few stony yards before a clearing of trees and bushes, cushioned with moss. Jessica took off her shoes and let her toes savour the softness of the warm moss, while she sat with her back against a tree.

  Leandro waded out to the speedboat and guided it inshore until it was firmly wedged on the beach. Then he came back to Jessica, stripping off his sodden shirt.

  `How are you, my poor darling?' he asked, dropping the shirt beside her and going on one knee, taking her hands between his own. 'Still shaking.'

  Looking at the handsome face, drawn in anxiety, and the width of tanned muscular shoulder, Jessica thought it was not so very surprising that she was shaking. She said nothing, though.

  Very gently he tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear.

  `Your coiffure has come adrift,' he said in a still voice.

  She put up a hand and loosened the ribbon at the back of her neck, shaking her hair free. For a moment it seemed almost as if he stopped breathing.

  Then, very gently, he reached out and combed his fingers through it, drawing it forward over her shouldel s as he did so.

  He said in a voice shaken by amusement and something else, 'Do you know what a challenge that damned hairstyle of yours is? I've been wanting to do this since the day I first saw you.'

  And he leaned forward and kissed her hard. Jessica tensed, not with rejection. Her head tipped back and her mouth opened and she met the kiss with a fervour of her own. It surprised both of them.

  When he let her go, he said dazedly, 'How long have you felt like that, for heaven's sake?'

  But she did not answer him, not at least with words. The trembling was worse now. It started deep in the core of her body and radiated out, so that every cell of blood and bone felt alive and humming with what was between them. She pulled his head down almost angrily, as her mouth sought his:

  He said, half laughing, 'Jess, Jess, we've got to talk.'
/>   But she would not listen. She clung to him, running her hands over his shoulders and down his spine as if she was not sure he was real, as if she could not believe he was there. Her breathing came in short shallow gasps. To the man holding her it sounded almost as if she was crying and he tried to pull away, concerned. But she tightened her embrace and would not look him in the face.

  `Hush,' he said, stroking her face, running his lips tenderly along the line of her eyebrow. 'Hush. It's not a race. Don't tremble so, my poor love. The last thing I want is to hurt you.'

  Jessica believed him, but nothing could stop the wild trembling now. She ran her thumb the length of his spine between his shoulder blades and down to the belt of his jeans.

  `You're crazy, do you know that?' His voice was muffled in her hair. He was trying to stay friendly, she know, friendly and amused and in control. She moved

  under him and his voice got harsher. 'Crazy!'

  They were lying full length on the moss, shaded from the full glare of the sun by the tracery of leaves above them. Her T-shirt had ridden up and she felt the imprint of little pebbles and twigs in the moss against her skin. Nevertheless, she did not resist when Leandro began to pull it over her head.

  He moved a little, easing on to one elbow, folding the shirt with unsteady hands to lay it gently beneath her head. Jessica could not look at him, but she followed him with her lips, kissing the bare warm shoulder.

  `Jess.' His breathing was not much steadier than her own but, unlike herself, he still seemed capable of making sense. 'Jess, my darling, listen to me. Just for a minute.'

  Under her hand his chest was rising and falling. She kissed it slowly, using her lips and tongue until he groaned.

  `At least tell me this.' He caught her head, held it still, then made her look at him. 'Do you trust me, Jess?' And she had no reservations, none.

  `Yes. Oh yes,' she said in hardly more than a whisper.

  A light came into his eyes she had not seen before. He brought her mouth down to his and the kiss spiralled off into outer space.

  Jessica was unbearably moved; she had never dreamed it could be like this. Even with Chuck, with whom she had been utterly unguarded, she had never felt this slow, irresistible ascending desire. Leandro was unhurried, deliberate, and yet the urgency was there all the time, accelerating both of them to an intensity that was almost tangible. She twisted and turned in his hands, made half savage by the unexpected heights he was showing her. And in the end he was savage too.

  Jessica heard him call her name on a fierce note, almost as if he were in pain, before he sank, breathing hard, on to her breast.

  She found herself very still and at peace. Only her hand, in a sort of reflex action, continued to stroke the smooth skin of his back. She looked up through the leaves to a cloudless sky and felt she was floating there, free and soundless as a bird. She gave a sigh of pure happiness.

  Eventually Leandro moved, dropping a light kiss on her breast before he looked at her searchingly.

  `All right?'

  She gave him a lazy smile. 'What do you think?'

  He caught his breath and the golden eyes darkened, but he laughed nevertheless and drew a slow sensuous kiss across her parted lips. 'I think you're a danger to shipping!'

  She gave a warm chuckle. `No. No. Only fast shipping.'

  Leandro hugged her. shall reconsider my promise to return at half a knot, in that case.'

  Jessica stretched dreamily. 'I shall probably have a heart attack.'

  `That will make two of us,' said Leandro, his voice dry. He leaned forward and trailed a line of kisses between her breasts. 'God knows what my doctors will say. No excitement, they told me.'

  `Doctors?' She was still floating, but that worried her, she tried to sit up, but Leandro refused to allow her to, so she subsided again. 'What doctors?'

  `A couple of pinstriped types in Genoa. I'll tell you some other time,' said Leandro, clearly preparing for sleep. He pulled her down so that her hair was spread over his chest, and set his arm firmly about her shoulders. His voice began to slur. 'Not important.'

  She did not know how long they slept. It could have been an hour or it could have been just a few minutes. It felt perfect, relaxed against him in the warm shadow, his arm round her protectively.

  At last he stirred, running his hand down her body rhythmically as he woke. Already it felt familiar.

  He said, 'I suppose we need to go back.'

  `I suppose,' she agreed without enthusiasm.

  `I more or less hijacked the speedboat. I'd better let Gianni know it's safe.'

  `You more or less hijacked me,' Jessica pointed out sniffily. 'Who are you going to assure that I'm safe?'

  He gave a chuckle. It rumbled under her ear like underground tremors.

  `You're not safe, you're dynamite,' he told her, beginning to sit up.

  Jessica followed suit, rubbing her ear. 'That tickled,' she complained.

  Leandro was unrepentant. 'You'll just have to get used to it, I guess.'

  She dressed slowly, weighing his words. Did he mean she would have to get used to it for the rest of the time she was on the yacht? But he said he did not have brief circumscribed affairs and she believed him. So he must mean get used to it permanently. Could he possibly mean that?

  He took the speedboat back to the yacht very slowly. His arm was round her all the way, tightening whenever she showed the slightest sign of flinching. He told her how it worked too, in minute and distracting detail, so they were back almost before she knew it.

  They tied up and then, as she turned to climb aboard, he stopped her, turning her back to face him. He looked very grave.

  `Jessica.' He scanned her face. `Do you regret this?'

  She shook her head, without hesitation.

  Leandro said, 'Look, I have to see Gianni and I've got to talk to Giorgio as well. But I don't want to let you go.' He held her to him, laughing a little into her hair. 'I'm a fool, I know. Don't tell me. I just don't want to see you walk away from me. Not after this afternoon.'

  Jessica took his head between her hands and kissed him gently.

  `Then what do you want me to do?' she asked softly.

  His arms tightened. 'I want you to go straight to my cabin. Wait for me there. Not talk to anyone else or be with anyone else. Only me.' He held her away from him and looked down into her smiling eyes. 'Is that too much to ask of an independent lady?'

  She shook her head, her hair swinging about her shoulders. He took a strand of it and carried it to his lips.

  `You're wonderful,' he said. He fished in the pocket of his jeans. 'The key. I won't be long.'

  They climbed aboard. On deck nobody was in sight and they clung together, kissing.

  `Hey,' protested Jessica, drawing away at last. 'This isn't a last goodbye!'

  `It's the end of the beginning, though,' said Leandro, unwontedly sober. Then he gave his unmistakable grin. 'Pity, really. I enjoyed the beginning, in spite of the scars.'

  They parted.

  Jessica already knew where his cabin was. She went to it slowly, aware of some trepidation. It was like being an invader, this going into someone else's room alone, even on such a pressing invitation. For a moment she pondered going first to her own cabin to shower and change. She rejected the thought. For some reason it was important to Leandro that she went first to his cabin, so she would do it. She owed him that much.

  His room was devastatingly tidy after the chaos in which she lived. There were a few books on the table in the middle of his saloon, but apart from that not a thing was out of place, not even the exquisite velvet cushions or the neat arrangement of inkstand and monogrammed blotter on the desk.

  Jessica hesitated before going into his bedroom. But that was undoubtedly what he would want, she thought wryly, so she went.

  There was almost nothing there either that gave a clue to his personality. A dark blue robe hung behind the door with the di Stefano monogram on it, so presumably it too was an accessory of
the yacht. There was a tracksuit, though, flung over an upholstered chair. It looked as if Leandro had left it to be laundered: it was creased and there were great flakes of paint along one of the sleeves.

  On the bedside table was a plain alarm clock with a soft leather pouch beside it. Both looked old and stained. Jessica inferred that they were old friends, unlike the bathrobe.

  She looked around the room. There was absolutely nothing else, not so much as a half-read book on his bedside table. Though she looked closer—she thought there was some odd cloth arrangement on the table, too heavy to be a handkerchief. She picked it up and it fell into the folds of a surgical blindfold. She stared at it confused. Did he sleep blindfold? Why? She had heard of light sleepers blocking their ears with earplugs, but surely nobody needed to bandage their eyes while they were asleep?

  She heard the outer door go and went back into the saloon, expecting to see Leandro. Instead, to her intense embarrassment, she met Sue York's shamefaced gaze.

  `Oh, Jess, you are here. I was so afraid. .

  'Afraid?'

  `You don't understand—you've been out of the way. Oh Jess, it's been terrible!'

  And, most uncharacteristically, Sue sank on to the velvet chaise-longue under the Sheraton mirror and wept. Jessica crossed to her and put her arm round her shoulders.

  'What's happened? Has someone been rude to you? Tried to blame you for what Sandra's done?' she asked, speculating wildly.

  She shook her head, sniffed, and drew an already soaked tissue from one sleeve to blow her nose.

  `No, worse than that. It's the plans. Your copy of the plans. They've gone!'

  'What?'

  `Gone,' repeated Sue in a stronger voice. 'Prince Giorgio came back and asked if there was another copy and I said yes, of course, and went to the safe and—they weren't there.'