Charlotte Lamb - Pagan Encounter

by Charlotte Lamb

Sam looked stolidly at him. 'Yes, indeed. Matt,' he said.

  When he had gone, Leigh looked at Matt, a wry expression on her face. 'You shouldn't have teased him. I like Sam.'

  'So do I.' he said, turning away. 'What's for breakfast? I'm starving.'

  'You've only had a few hours' sleep.' she said in concern. 'It was five when we got back here. Go back to bed for a while. Matt.'

  'Come with me,' he said.

  Her face coloured deeply. She made no answer. He looked round at her, his eyes speculative.

  'You would if I meant it, wouldn't you, Leigh?'

  'Yes,' she said, meeting the irony of his glance without evasion.

  He took her chin in his hands, staring into her blue eyes. 'When will you marry me?'

  'When you like,' she said.

  His mouth twisted. 'So submissive, Leigh. Will you always be this sweet?'

  She made no answer, looking back at him calmly.

  'You haven't even asked me any questions,' he said slowly. 'Are you going to?'

  'No,' she said.

  'Why not?' His eyes were unreadable.

  'I'm taking each day as it comes,' she said frankly.

  'Your new scheme for living, Leigh?' His voice was wry.

  'Yes,' she said. He wanted her, that was all she needed to know. She no longer cared about anything else.

  He hesitated, as though on the point of saying something, then shrugged. 'Maybe you're right. What about that breakfast?'

  Leigh moved into the kitchen and began to prepare him a meal. In the last twenty-four hours her whole life had seemed to turn upside down. The pains, the frets, the puzzles of the time before had vanished. Now all she thought about was that Matt needed her, and whether his need was for a hot meal, a calming hand on his tired neck, or whatever he desired to take from her, she was prepared to give it to him without question: she had realised that when she saw him on the television the previous evening. The pleasures of giving whatever he demanded would be enough, she thought. What had Pete Turner said last night? Something is better than nothing.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEY were married a month later. Leigh felt curiously unreal as she drove away from the wedding reception beside Matt, the smooth pale silk of her hair dressed to perfection above the fur-trimmed, full-skirted blue coat she was wearing. Autumn had faded into winter. The bare trees fringing the road along which they drove made twisting patterns upon the pale sky. A delicate sunshine gave some colour to the day, but it was chilly, and across the fields she saw hedges like dark scrambled wool and the grey mist hovering in veils.

  She had had no time to think much during the past weeks. The news of their engagement had created an enormous stir, both in the Gazette building and nationally.

  There had been visits to be made to her own parents, stunned and incredulous as they made Matt welcome, and to Matt's family in Hampshire. Leigh had felt incredibly nervous as he drove her down the long drive towards a flat facade and the cool elegance of a Georgian house set in lawns and flowerbeds. Matt had given her a little searching look as he parked, then taken her hand firmly, his touch comforting.

  His father was a much older version of himself, his store of energy fading, courteous, shrewd, watchful. His mother had proved to be an elegant, thin-faced woman in her sixties, very well preserved and cool in her manner. Leigh had sensed that neither of them was exactly delighted with the engagement, but Matt's possessive manner had made it plain to them that, whatever their feelings, all was settled.

  It had been a relief to leave, although neither of them had been unpleasant. The restrained atmosphere had been stiff with unspoken doubt.

  Leigh's parents had been warmer, protesting a little at the speed of Matt's plans, but falling in with them when he made it clear he was not prepared to wait. The wedding had been from her own home, of course, and her mother had been worn out with all the plans by the time the wedding day arrived. Leigh's decision to continue working for Matt had met with disbelief from her parents, but Matt had backed her decision firmly. She had half expected him to argue about it at the time, but to her relief he had merely nodded. She wanted to be with him all day, the idea of leaving him to another woman's protection during his long working hours intolerable.

  They had been kept hard at work throughout the period. The running fight between unions and management went on daily. Leigh had almost forgotten her approaching wedding at times, so deeply did the job engross her, and although she saw a good deal of Matt outside the office there had been no intimacy in their meetings. He took her out to dinner, came back to her flat, listened to music and relaxed, the dominating passion of his love- making totally absent from their relationship.

  While they were on their honeymoon his deputy would take over running the firm.

  Leigh made sure that the man's secretary knew all she needed to know, then on the Friday she and Matt drove up to Leicester together.

  Matt stayed at a local hotel for the night. Leigh spent the evening quietly, her nerves jumping as she accepted the reality of what was to happen next day. Cathy Lord had gone to America during the past weeks and Leigh and Matt had never discussed her. But she had wondered, painfully, what Ann made of the news, and was surprised and pleased to get a present and card from her, the brief message making it plain that Ann had, as Leigh had predicted, got over her infatuation. That Ann was astonished by the turn of events was clear, but Leigh was glad to realise that her marriage would not hurt her cousin.

  Matt had inspected their wedding presents at the reception, a lift of his brow towards her indicating that he had noticed the silver rose bowl which she had received from Phil.

  Her colour rose. She was glad he had not seen the note Phil included with it. Phil had not yet got over her, she could sense, and there was jealous irony in his congratulations.

  When she had come down the aisle towards him, her slender body graceful in the delicate silk and lace of her gown, winter sunlight had glinted on the blonde hair beneath her full veil, revealing to her Matt's hard face as he glanced round at her. She had been cold and shivering. His fingers had tightened on hers as he took her hand, and beneath the formal music of her vows she was aware of surrendering herself to him completely, her oval face grave at the implications of her act. From that moment onwards, she had thought, however he hurt her, she belonged to him. Glancing at him beneath her lashes she had wondered what he was thinking, leanly elegant in morning suit, his grey eyes unreadable.

  Matt had asked her to choose a honeymoon spot, and she had decided not to go abroad, since the pressure of work demanded that they limit their honeymoon to one week only. Her parents had protested at her decision, but Matt had overruled them, showing preference for a week spent in a house in the depths of quiet Cambridgeshire.

  His cousin Alastair owned the place, he told her, and was abroad for a month in the Canaries. There was a pleasant caretaking couple who would look after them. They had a cottage in the grounds, so their presence would not disturb honeymoon privacy, he added drily.

  'We can go abroad in the spring,' he added to her parents. 'Leigh would enjoy a trip to the Greek islands, I think. By then I shall be able to go with an easy conscience.'

  As they drove towards Cambridgeshire now, Leigh glanced at him in faint uneasiness. Although they had spent most of the last month in each other's company hour after hour, they had been far removed from the ordinary engaged couple. Work bound them closer than passion. They shared a consuming interest in what they did, and they had grown more and more to depend upon each other in the small decisions of the day.

  Remembering Matt's earlier assault upon her, she was puzzled by his present restraint. He had made no attempt to make love to her since he placed his ring upon her finger. He bewildered and worried her.

  They arrived at the house and were welcomed by the caretakers, who, having shown them around, discreetly left them alone. They had left a delightful meal ready for them.

  Matt and Leigh ate in the lofty dining-room b
y the flickering light of candles, their manner strangely formal.

  Afterwards, Matt pulled the decanter towards his plate and glanced at her warily. 'You go up to bed, Leigh. I'll have another glass before I come.'

  Without a word of protest she obeyed. In their warm, pink-walled bedroom she undressed and got ready for bed like an automaton, not allowing herself to think. When she was ready she walked towards the bed, halting as a spasm of pain shot through her.

  She stood at the foot of the bed, her hand whitening as it clung to the heavy silk quilt.

  Matt came into the room, taking in the tension of her body at a glance.

  'What's wrong?' he asked abruptly.

  'Nothing.' she said, her head turned away from him.

  He moved, forcing her to look at him. His cold grey eyes marked the faint tears in her blue eyes.

  'Don't lie to me,' he said tersely. 'Tell me.'

  'Let me go, Matt,' she whispered. 'You're hurting me!'

  He caught her by the shoulders, shaking her roughly. 'Tell me, Leigh!'

  She felt a wild impulse to get away, struggling angrily. His hands lost control of her for a moment and she turned to run, but the ruthless fingers bit deep into her wrists, stopping her. She tugged vainly in an effort to escape, her slender body twisting in his grip. He stared at her, his eyes flickering over the white shoulders and arms, the gleam of her skin beneath the smooth cream silk of the nightdress.

  'Cold feet, Leigh?' he asked between tight lips. 'I can soon change that.'

  She fought desperately to stop him taking her into his arms, but she was no match for his sheer physical strength, and the hard mouth insistently searched across her face for her lips, the touch of it against her skin making her quiver. She turned her head aside with a sob to evade him and his mouth slid passionately down to kiss the warm, soft skin at the base of her throat, her pulse beating violently beneath his lips.

  She pushed against his shoulders with both hands, breathing faster, and he abruptly tilted her head between his palms, her fine hair trickling over his fingers. She stared at the hard mouth as it moved nearer her own, and suddenly all the resistance drained out of her. She flung her arms around his neck, her hands dragging him nearer, and he laughed harshly. This is one battle I'll always win, isn't it, Leigh?'

  She found his mouth without answering, kissing him wildly, sick with anguish as she did so, knowing that she did not want this physical mimicry of love. She wanted love itself. But if this was what Matt wanted, she would give it to him, however it hurt her.

  When he pulled his head back his eyes moved over her restlessly, desire gleaming in the cold grey depths. 'I've waited for this moment for months,' he said unsteadily, is the citadel mine, Leigh?'

  'You know it is,' she said huskily. She shut her eyes and swayed against him, holding him with both hands around his neck. 'Take me, Matt. Don't torture me like this. Why have you waited so long? Are you determined to force me to my knees first?' She was shaking, her face buried in the brown strength of his neck. 'Don't make me say it, Matt, for God's sake!'

  He was suddenly very still. A long hand twined in her hair, pulling her face away until he could look down into it. His skin was pale, his eyes very dark. 'What mustn't I make you say, Leigh?' he asked levelly.

  'You know very well,' she muttered on a cry of misery. 'You warned me once that you would force my total surrender. You're a cruel, ruthless enemy, aren't you, Matt? Oh, God, why did I have to fall in love with you?'

  The grey eyes stared deep into her tear-filled blue ones. A quiver of violent emotion ran over his hard face. 'Say that again,' he said jerkily.

  A wild, miserable emotion was consuming her. She wanted to hit him, scream, behave in a way utterly alien to her nature. Anything which might relieve the pressing agony inside her would do. As if she were flinging weapons at him, she said bitterly, 'All right. Matt, have your victory ... what difference does it make?'

  'I'm crazy about you and you know it ... that's what you've been waiting to hear me admit, isn't it? All these weeks when you could have taken me without a struggle, you've been playing your waiting game just to hear me finally cave in and admit I love you.'

  His arms came round her convulsively, pressing her head against his shoulder, his hand on the back of her head in a possessive gesture. She could feel his body trembling against her own, and his heart was racing wildly.

  'How long have you been hiding it from me?' he asked shakily, his lips tangled in her hair. 'Oh, God, Leigh, I'd stopped hoping for it. Don't you know I've been insanely in love with you since the first day we met?'

  Incredulity held her rigid in his arms. His hands were moving over her restlessly, and his voice whispered huskily into her ear. I took one look at you the day you walked into that hotel, and I felt as though fate had just kicked me in the teeth. I watched you, willing you to look at me, waiting for you to see me, because I was so sure you were mine. I couldn't conceive that the way I felt could be a one-way thing. Then those beautiful blue eyes looked right through me as though I were invisible, and I was stunned. I stared at you, seeing how the man with you was no more able to hold your attention than I was, and I thought ... my God, she's as cold as ice. I was burningly angry. I was so mad I wanted to knock that cool look off your face, but all the time underneath my rage I was thinking of nothing but getting you into my arms ...' His mouth slid down her hair and caressed her neck, a slow, warm sensuality in the movement.

  Her heart was beating with a slow, heavy excitement. She had listened to every word with a growing sense of enchantment, hardly able to believe that it was Matt talking.

  From despair he had raised her to delight and pulsing relief. She put her hands on each side of his face, turning his head so that she could read the look in the grey eyes. The mockery, harshness, cruelty had gone. Flame leapt at her from the dark centres, and her breath caught.

  'Matt,' she moaned, her eyes closing.

  His mouth swooped hotly, and her hunger for him burst out of the bonds she had tried to place on it, her slender body shuddering as her response quickened.

  He lifted her on to the bed, his arm reaching out to flick off the light, and she muttered protestingly as he moved away from her.

  'Be patient, my darling,' he laughed softly, his voice very unsteady. A moment later she felt the silken slide of her nightdress as it was removed, and the cool male body rejoined her, arousing her to such a pitch that she was groaning with pleasure as he began to touch her. The damned-up hunger of months broke through the shattered walls between them, the sheer intensity of their desire sending flame over her skin.

  Her dry lips parted against his throat, caressing the warm skin, a faint sob in her husky voice as she said, 'I love you, Matt, I love you...'

  'Dearest,' he said hoarsely, his hands trembling as he slid them down her body, the warm palms lingering on her breasts. 'Keep telling me. I've waited so long to hear that note in your voice.'

  His lips brushed tenderly between her breasts, his face turning to bury himself in the warm, soft whiteness beneath his cheek, and her fingers gently stroked the tight muscles of his neck, curling up into his black hair to wind themselves possessively among the thick strands.

  The bodies moved erotically together, their mouths clinging. As Matt took her the wild clamour of her aroused senses deafened her to anything but the long- denied satisfaction of that deep, bittersweet, persistent, nagging ache. The piercing spiral rose like agony inside her, and Matt's breathing had a hoarse, anguished echo from her own.

  They lay for moments afterwards, so close she heard his heart beating against her own, a silken relief covering them. Leigh was aware of sleep approaching softly, and, her slender body totally relaxed, made no effort to resist it. For the present her burning hunger had been extinguished, and she was incapable of thought. She had been so tired for weeks that now she let go of everything.

  When she woke she was still in his arms, her face against his naked chest, hearing the heavy beating o
f his heart in her ear. Her eyes sleepily surveyed the grey morning light which was revealing the room. Matt's clothes lay in_ a scattered heap across the floor. She smiled, her eyes dancing, as she looked at them, and the faint movement of her mouth against his skin seemed to wake him.

  He stretched lazily and the motion made her quiver with response. He glanced down, his dark lashes covering his eyes, and a teasing smile curved his mouth.

  'At last I know the meaning of the phrase "master of all I survey",' he said insolently.

  She bit him delicately. 'Brute!'

  'Devil,' he whispered back, kissing her, feeling the pink mouth part in eager response.

  'You made me wait for months, eating my heart out...'

  She looked up at him. 'How was I to know you felt like that? You made sure I got no hint.'

  'I didn't dare let you guess,' he said wryly. 'When I followed you up to your room, that first day, you froze me with a look of total indifference, and even when I'd discovered that I could get you to respond to me physically, I was bitterly aware that you were grimly determined to avoid any emotional entanglement.'

  'I found you frightening,' she said, remembering her fear of him in the lift that day. I thought you were mad, stopping the lift like that, and then forcing me to accept your Iovemaking. I was such a coward I couldn't bring myself to complain about the way you'd behaved, though. Oh, Matt, I have been such a coward. It was because I was afraid that I wouldn't even admit to myself that I was falling in love with you.'

  He ran his fingers through the loose silken hair which fell over his shoulders. 'You have no idea how eagerly I watched for some sign that you were beginning to care for me. When you went out with Lianos I was almost insane with jealousy. I nearly let it all out that night. I was very tempted to stay and sleep with you. but I knew I'd never be able to hide how I felt if I actually got you into bed, so I forced myself to go. I had to stop you going out with other men, though, I couldn't bear the idea of another man touching you.'

  'That was obvious,' she agreed, smiling teasingly. 'You puzzled me when you made me admit I wanted you so badly and then walked off without taking advantage of the situation. I was piqued and angry, I think. I couldn't make head nor tail of your behaviour.'