Firth

by Vaso

  She wondered if she was imagining the softness of his lips on her hair and then as his mouth moved down to plant light kisses on her forehead, knew she had not been mistaken. She raised her head, mutely inviting him to go on, and he claimed her mouth with a sudden hard passion that stirred and excited her.

  Vanessa could have stayed in his arms all night, blind and deaf to anything going on around her. And Max wanted her, she could tell that. She was all too aware of the fact that she had awakened a growing need of her in him. But was it for her, or would any woman serve in similar circumstances? The question drifted into her mind, but she banished it. He could have had any woman at the party for the snap of his fingers, but he had chosen her. Nothing really mattered anyway but that this half sleeping, half waking ecstasy should go on for ever.

  But it seemed that Max had other ideas. She made a small sound of protest as he put her firmly aside and looked up, uncaring that he should see in her eyes the passion that he had aroused in her.

  'Max?' She was pleading with him to take her back in his arms.

  'We'll get out of this crush, shall we?' It was a question, but he took her assent for granted, leading her to the door. 'Have you got a coat?'

  'Yes, I'll get it.' She almost ran to the bedroom, rooted amongst the pile of clothes that littered the bed and retrieved her coat, slipping it over her shoulders as she rejoined him.

  'Leaving already?' A cool voice stopped them on the way to the front door.

  It was too much to hope that they would get away undetected. Lydia had eyes in the back of her head; she never missed a trick. The avid curiosity in the pale blue eyes that were focussed on them made Vanessastrangely selfconscious about Max's arm draped caressingly around her. What was Lydia going to make of it?

  Her disapproval was plain. 'Really, Van, you are the brass-necked limit! You're supposed to be a mate of mine, yet you come to my party and walk off with the most attractive man in the room. I don't call that very friendly!' The words were teasing, but the implication behind them was not.

  'Vanessa hasn't any choice in the matter. I'm abducting her.' Max's tone disposed of the matter without further argument. 'Goodbye, Lydia. No doubt we'll see you again.' He didn't sound as if he took much pleasure in the prospect. Perhaps he was annoyed that she should presume to question his actions.

  The other girl shrugged and stood aside, saying with faint malice to Vanessa as .she did so, 'I see you've changed your tune a bit since we met last.'

  'Perhaps.' Vanessa wasn't going to argue the point. She let Max steer her away out into the cool night air. The front door slammed behind them.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  'HAVE you eaten? Do you want to?' Max took her arm lightly as they made their way through the garden rubble and found the road again. 'I haven't got the car with me, but we could get a cab somewhere.'

  Cabs weren't all that frequent in the darkened streets of Hampstead at this time on a Saturday night, but Vanessa didn't put him to the test. She had no doubt that, if he so desired, a taxi would surface from somewhere within three seconds of his expressing a wish for one.

  'I'm not very hungry.' At least, not for food, Vanessa added to herself, and startled herself at the brazenness of the admission. But they hadn't left the crowded party to exchange polite conversation in an equally crowded restaurant, of that she was sure. 'We could go back to my place,' she suggested. 'I could do you something to eat there, if you like?'

  'Fine. Let's go.' Max wasn't going to waste any time arguing the point.

  Their steps rang out on the pavement, shattering the peace of the quiet streets with the noise. Max's arm was round her, drawing her to him, disturbing her peace with his touch. They did not talk as they headed in the direction of Jill's flat, but it was not an awkward silence. It was rather as if everything of importance was to be postponed until the appropriate place and that the time for trivial small talk was past between them. Suddenly Vanessa felt her heart thumping with an apprehension that held a delicious expectation, like a child at Christmas time.

  Her hand shook and she fumbled with the key when they reached the door of the flat at last. He noticed, of course. Would he identify it as reaction to his presence by her side? Somehow it did not matter if he did. He took the key from her without a word and inserted it correctly. The door swung open and Vanessa ushered him inside, feeling a little more secure on home ground as she switched on the lights and took him into the living room.

  'Nice.' He strolled casually around the room on a brief tour of inspection, noting the comfortable padded Victorian chairs that were Jill's junk-shop finds, the collection of Toby jugs that was her pride and joy, and the mass of records and books that gave evidence of the two sisters' differing tastes. 'Yours?'

  'No. I couldn't afford anything nearly so grand. It's my sister's flat. I'm just sharing it while I'm in London. She was a sitting tenant and had the chance of buying it relatively cheaply. What I pay as rent helps out with the mortgage, but it's still a bit of a struggle for her.' What was she babbling on like this for? Max couldn't be remotely interested.

  'She's an actress too?'

  'No. She's a secretary. She says one lunatic in the family is quite enough.'

  He laughed at that, but not unkindly. 'She's probably right at that. Do I get to meet her?'

  'She's away for the weekend.'

  'So we've got the place to ourselves.'

  'Yes.' Vanessa couldn't read the look he gave her. It held a mixture of devilment and desire and she was not sure which was uppermost. She felt a sudden twinge of panic. Had she done the right thing bringing him here? At the party they seemed to have suddenly found common ground. The antagonism that usually flared

  between them had vanished, and instead there had been a closeness, an empathy between them. Now she was not so sure.

  'What can I get you to eat?' she asked him brightly. 'Coffee and sandwiches? Or would you prefer something else?'

  Max had sensed her sudden unease, she could tell by the faint smile that played at his mouth. 'Coffee and sandwiches will do very well for the moment,' he said, the tawny gaze flickering lazily over her. 'You can offer me dessert later.'

  What exactly, did he mean by thafl Precisely what she thought he meant, she decided, as her startled eyes caught the wicked glint in his. He was at his old trick of catching her off balance again. She strove to sound unconcerned. 'I won't be long. Make yourself at home, won't you?' She retreated into the kitchen, her heart jumping erratically.

  She forced herself to calm down as she automatically sliced and buttered bread and set the percolator in action. She and Jill normally used instant coffee, but Max Anderson couldn't have that. He came into the special guest category. Was that why she was acting like a stupid schoolgirl instead of a grown woman? Her sudden attack of selfconsciousness had amused him, she knew. What had he made offit? The women he usually played around with were in his league. They were aware of the rules of the game and how to bend them to their own purposes. They were sophisticated flirts who knew how to handle this sort of encounter.

  But Vanessa wasn't sure of herself whatever Max had assumed to the contrary in the past. There had been men enough in her life who had been keen on her. With her striking good looks it would have been surprising if there had not been. They had all tried their luck with her, but none of them had got very far, simply becauseshe hadn't wanted them to. For the most part they had accepted rejection from her bed with reasonable grace and had stayed friends with her after they had moved on to more accommodating girls. A few had reacted badly, calling her a tease and worse, but these had been rare occasions and, strangely enough, had not upset her too much.

  It had occurred to Vanessa sometimes to wonder if the sort of reactions that her friends described at length to her were going to pass her by completely. Now she knew what they were talking about. The jangling nerves, the racing pulse, the weakness in the knees, the general sensation of floating away in a dream world: they were all there in double doses wh
en Max was near her. And, in spite of all her efforts to reject him, she had a shrewd idea that Max knew all too well what effect he had upon her.

  Well, one thing was sure, she could not cower in the kitchen all night. She took the tray through, noting that he had followed her invitation to make himself at home. The main light was dark and the softer glow of a table lamp illuminated the room.'The gas fire glowed warmly and strains of Debussy came from the record player at one side of the fireplace. If she had been in any doubt as to Max's intentions it was dispelled instantly.

  'Mood music?' she asked lightly enough.

  'You did tell me to make myself comfortable.'

  He'd certainly done that. The dark jacket of his suit had been tossed aside, his tie was loosened and he was lounging full length on the rug by the fire, his back against one of the chairs. He looked a picture of lazy, relaxed ease. She didn't trust him an inch.

  She put the coffee tray down at his side and, with that frail barrier between them, sat down herself. 'Help yourself,' she invited him.

  He did and ate with good appetite, while she sipped a

  cup of coffee and watched him covertly, saying nothing. Let him make the running. He usually preferred it that way.

  'You're not eating?'

  'No. There was food at Lydia's.'

  'That's a bloody miracle. I've known her send people out for Chinese take-aways because she's been too lazy to cook for them.' A dark brow raised quizzically. 'She lacks your culinary skills, Vanessa. You'd never do that to a visitor, would you?'

  Was he referring to himself or to Daniel? She ignored the problem. 'I'm sure Lydia excels in other ways,' she told him carefully.

  'So they tell me.'

  She didn't pretend to misunderstand him. Lydia's reputation was well known to him, presumably. 'You haven't discovered for yourself?'

  'Not for any want of effort on Lydia's part.' His mouth took on a cynical twist.

  'And yet you turned her down?'

  'I'm old-fashioned. I prefer to do the chasing myself. Besides, I don't really fancy being used to further her career.'

  'You've accused me of trying that line more than once,' she ventured daringly.

  'So?'

  'What changed your mind?'

  'Did I say anything had?' he asked infuriatingly.

  'You're sitting here with me,' she pointed out.

  'I want to do a little more than just sit with you, Vanessa. And I think you feel the same way as I do.' The coffee tray was moved deftly aside with one hand as the other reached for her and jerked her towards him. He caught her off guard and she did not resist him. Afterwards, in the circle of his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, she had no desire to escape.

  The spell of his physical presence washed over her, binding her closer to him than any deliberate action on his part could have done. She rested in his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do.

  His mouth met hers in a passionate demand that made her senses clamour with delight, responding to him with an eagerness that she could not conceal from him. Now that the moment had come she desired him as fervently as he wanted her. There was no holding back. Her probing fingers removed his tie and unfastened the buttons of his shirt, sliding with undisguised delight over the strong, hair-roughened wall of his chest. She felt his hands moving over her, exploring her body with languid assurance as he traced her every curve.

  She shivered with pleasure, as he lifted her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and caressed the bare skin of her back with a gentleness that tantalised her, before moving to stroke her breasts, stirring them to pulsating life. She made no attempt to dissuade him as he pushed her back to lie on the rug, covering her with his body. The feel of his hard, masculine presence against her brought a new excitement, a growing need of him that she could not have damped down however hard she might have tried. And she didn't want to stop him now.

  The pleasurable sensations that were spreading through her were making her lose all control. She responded eagerly as he caressed her, first gently, then with a fever that showed that he was as caught up in the grip of passion as she. His mouth left hers and moved to nuzzle the base of her throat and then the rosy tips of her breasts. A moan of pleasure escaped her as his hands roved more intimately over her, seeking and finding out new sources of delight with every passing second.

  She was drowning, lost in a sea of tactile bliss and aware of nothing and no one in the world except the man whose actions were drawing her to the edge of frenzy. She had never allowed a man such freedom with her body, never given herself so wantonly in response. But, with this man, she had no thoughts of holding back. It all seemed so right, so natural. He slipped the flimsy blouse from her shoulders and had tossed it aside and now his hands were seeking the band of her skirt, releasing it and easing it from her. He moved away from her to divest himself of the rest of his clothes and she gave a small sound of protest, impatient at the delay, eager to continue their lovemaking.

  'You're beautiful,' he said softly, reaching for her again. Passion flared in his eyes. 'I want you, Vanessa.'

  Her hands roamed over the smooth, muscled perfection of him, delighting in the feel of him. Instinct lent knowledge to her inexperience and she could tell from his response that she was pleasing him. She pressed against him, half wanting, half fearing the ultimate excitement, but sure that it would be no disappointment.

  And then his hands stilled and he jerked his head away from her, his attention suddenly claimed elsewhere. Her drugged senses registered the fact painfully. She surfaced from her state of mindless content into a jarring world of reality in which the telephone shrilled incessantly.

  She shook her head dizzily. 'Shall I answer it?'

  Max rolled away from her, making her feel suddenly bereft. 'Up to you,' he said.

  She looked at the phone willing it to stop, but it rang on. 'I'd better answer. It might be my sister. She'll worry.'

  He shrugged, his face unreadable. The mood was broken. Vanessa sighed as she reached for the receiver. How would one of his sophisticated girl-friends havereacted? Would it have been better to have taken the phone off the hook to prevent interruptions before the evening had got to the interesting stage that it had reached? Or should she just have ignored it? Max had given her no indication of what he wanted her to do.

  'Hello?' She noticed that her voice was shaking slightly.

  Her caller noticed it too. 'Vanessa? I got you out of bed? I guess I'm making a habit of that. I thought you'd probably be out on the town somewhere on a Saturday night, so I left it late before I rang. I hardly thought you'd be tucked up like a good little girl.'

  If only he knew the half of it! 'Daniel, it's you,' she said weakly.

  'Who else were you expecting to ring? Trying to make me jealous, are you?' .He sounded cheerful as usual.

  'No, of course not.' Out of the corner of her eye she saw Max's reaction, an impatient look coming to his face and a hand going out to reach his clothes.

  'Hey, are you all right?' Daniel would sense that there was something wrong if she didn't pull herself together and she wasn't sure that she was ready to admit to him that he had interrupted his best friend making passionate love to her.

  'Fine. Just tired.' She felt rather than saw the sneer on Max's face.

  'Well, I won't keep you.' Daniel sounded disappointed. He'd clearly wanted to talk, one of their usual lengthy chats about nothing in particular and everything under the sun. 'Is Friday still on?'

  'Of course it is. I'm looking forward to seeing you.' Concern at the thought of hurting him made Vanessa's voice warmer than it would normally have been, and the response was instant.

  'That's great! So am I. For a moment I thought

  you'd found someone else.' He was half joking, half serious.

  'Would it matter if I had?'

  'You bet. Don't fall in love with another guy, will you? I'll tear him apart.* " Til bear that in mind, Daniel.'

  'Do
that thing. I'll see you Friday, then. But I'll ring you before, if that's O.K. with you.'

  'That's fine,' she assured him. 'I'm always glad to hear from you.'

  They said goodbye and Vanessa rang off. She replaced the receiver and turned to find Max half dressed and shrugging himself into his shirt. 'You're going?' she asked him.

  'What does it look like? Do you expect me to stay?'

  It was amazing how quickly he could switch from one mood to another. Only minutes ago he had been a passionate, demanding lover, as desperate for her as she had been for him. Now a cold, remote man faced her, a cynical twist to his mouth, contempt and rejection of her in every line of him.

  'Is something wrong?' It was a stupid question and she knew it even as she voiced it.

  He laughed harshly. 'What do you think?' He finished buttoning his shirt and donned his jacket, shoving his tie in his pocket. 'I must have been mad! I've never taken second place to another man and I don't propose to start now.'

  'You mean Daniel?'

  'Yes, I mean Daniel. There's no need to play the little innocent with me, so you can wipe that wide-eyed look off your face.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  He crossed the room towards her and took her arms in a painful grip. 'Don't you? Do you want me to spell it out to you? I will, if you like.'

  'I'm not in love with Daniel,' she protested.

  Tm well aware of that. You're not in love with anyone but yourself,' he grated. 'It doesn't matter to you, of course. Out of sight, out of mind. You're quite happy to string him along with sweet nothings over the phone while making sure there's another man around to warm your bed in his place. You little bitch!'

  'That's a vile suggestion!'

  'But it's true, isn't it? I've had your measure all along.'

  'Why did you bother coming back here with me tonight, if you despise me so much?' she challenged him.

  'I couldn't help myself,' he said with disgust. 'Does that please you to hear me admit it? I wanted you. I dare say I wanted you as much as you wanted me. And don't try to deny it—you were wild for me. You'd have done anything, wouldn't you?'