Deceptive Passion

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Deceptive Passion Page 11

by Sophie Weston


  `So you damned well should have.' Miles was looking rapidly round her eyrie, assessing the place. 'Not much shelter here.' He hesitated. 'Have you tried climbing?'

  Diana raised her head and looked at the rock wall behind them. In his arms her trembling had quieted. Now her expression was rueful.

  `There's a limit to how far I can climb,' she said. 'This is it.'

  `They'll be back with a rope in half an hour or so,' he said, half to himself. He looked down at her assessingly. 'Very cold?'

  She nodded. She was still held against the comforting strength of his body and she was not at all anxious to let him go.

  `Not up to swimming?' he asked.

  She looked down at the surging water, thought of the black tunnel, and shuddered. Miles detached her clinging hands and set her gently back against the rock-face. He surveyed their position narrow-eyed.

  She started shivering again. Her finger-ends, she noticed with faint interest, were turning blue. In contrast—and in spite of his soaking—Miles looked warm and alive. He hunkered down in front of her.

  `Look, Di, I know it goes against the grain, but you'll have to trust me.'

  She looked at him blankly. He sighed as if he was trying to curb impatience.

  `I can get you out of here,' he told her clearly. `If you trust me. I can tow you through the cave in a life-saving hold.' His eyes gleamed briefly. 'The way I got you out to the beach. There's still air in the corridor. It will take ten minutes at the outside. Maybe less. But we'll both be at risk if you panic or try to fight me.' He took her icy hands. 'Will you trust me?'

  Diana looked at the turbulent sea below them. There was no one on the headland above them now. They would have gone for help as Miles said. The storm clouds were racing and the wind was very cold.

  She tried to force her icy lips to smile. 'There's n-not a lot going for us here,' she agreed. 'I'll have to.'

  His eyes flickered. But his only response was to aim a playful fist at her cheek in a mock punch. 'That's my girl.' He took her hand, pulling her upright. 'Come on.'

  `N-now?'

  `Nothing to be gained by waiting,' Miles said in a practical tone. `I'd take your skirt off. It won't be nice waterlogged and it could get in my way.'

  It was a dress. Diana hesitated only momentarily. His gaze was almost clinical as he held out his hand for the scrap of cloth. He dropped it casually behind him.

  `It'll be safe. We can collect it at low tide if you're specially fond of it.' He slipped off the ledge into the surging water. Bracing himself one-handed against the rock-face, he held the other up to her. 'Come on.'

  The water was worse than before, boisterous as well as cold. Her feet touched the bottom and she staggered, sinking. She bit her lip till the blood ran, grabbing for him instinctively. His hands were as steady as hawsers.

  `Don't think,' he instructed unemotionally. 'Let yourself float. Relax.'

  It wasn't the easiest instruction in the world to comply with, Diana thought, amused in spite of her alarm. The water bumped her against him uncontrollably. Her own lack of ease in the water didn't make it any easier. But in the end he had her floating on her back, held against his chest.

  Looking over his shoulder, he took them with steady strokes towards the rock passage. They seemed, to Diana's fluttering senses, to cover the distance in half a dozen sweeps of one powerful arm. As they plunged into darkness she gave an instinctive gasp that she wasn't quick enough to suppress. At once the arm that held her tightened.

  `Don't think,' Miles said calmly. 'Relax.'

  He kept on saying it as they swam and bumped their way through the little passage. The water was very high and it seemed to Diana that they were in imminent danger of scraping their faces on the roof.

  Once she felt Miles hit the rock wall and flinch, swearing. But he was right. It didn't take much over ten minutes.

  Dimitri was waiting in the boat. He wasn't alone. Chris was there, looking surprisingly grim. So were a couple of strangers who turned out to be fishermen.

  They hauled her on to the launch and plied her with rough towels, rougher brandy and fishy-smelling sweaters. Dimitri was conspicuously silent while Chris gave crisp instructions into the radio. No one, Diana saw from her huddle in the cabin, seemed to be paying much attention to Miles.

  She tried to say as much. After all, he was cold too and probably twice as exhausted, even though he wouldn't have been as scared. She looked across at him, pulling his own shirt over his damp shoulders. He looked brisk and, she thought, taking in the tense jaw line and

  hard profile, angry. The words died on her lips. Thunder started in the distance.

  The boat came to land on a small beach. Chris's limousine was waiting, though for once his driver wasn't in immaculate uniform. She gave him a faint smile as the man came forward anxiously to help her. She got up the beach under her own steam, though.

  She hesitated before getting into the car. It seemed sacrilege somehow—the pristine ivory leather seats and her tarred and fishy garments. Miles came up the beach at a run.

  `Get in,' he said sharply.

  It was beginning to rain again, great drops like coins that spattered on the Mercedes's bonnet and were converted into steam. Diana did as she was told. She held open the door for him too but he had already turned away. She sank back.

  Dimitri crunched up the shale towards her. He leaned on the door, bending to make out her expression. `You are all right? Truly?' he asked.

  Diana nodded. A great weariness was beginning to settle over her. Dimitri looked down to the beach to the others.

  `Miles is astonishing,' he said in an odd voice. 'I had

  no idea he could be so—' he hesitated '—dramatic.' Diana gave a little laugh that broke in the middle. `Neither did I.'

  `No,' Dimitri agreed. He swung into the back of the car beside her. 'He has surprised all of us, I think.'

  Miles finished his consultation with Chris and ran lightly back up the beach to the car.

  `The castle,' he said to the chauffeur. 'The Count will take the boat back.'

  He got in and the car rocked gently up the unmade track. Miles looked round at her.

  `You're cold and a bit shocked but I think that's all. We'll have a doctor look at you but I don't think we need to run you into the clinic as an emergency. Do you?'

  Diana shook her head violently. 'Of course not. I was just stupid. It was you ...' She remembered that brush with the rock wall and winced.

  `I'm OK,' he said curtly.

  Dimitri said, 'I've never seen a dive like that. Have you always dived?'

  They began to discuss the local swimming. Diana's head spun. The car was warm and superbly sprung. She began to droop sideways.

  She awoke to find herself being carried. She thought she was being pulled out of the car. `Dimitri?' she said, still three-quarters asleep.

  `No,' said Miles grimly. 'Think again.'

  She was long out of the car. He was taking her down the corridor in the castle. He shouldered open the door to her room. Diana's eyes focused with difficulty.

  Miles dropped her on the lace-covered bed and began to strip off the odorous sweaters. Her cold fingers closed over his own, trying to stop him.

  The sherry-brown eyes glinted down at her. 'Quite apart from the fact that we've been married for years, if you believe you came out of the sea anything other than effectively naked, you're living in fairyland,' he told her brutally.

  She flushed, turning her face away, hating him again.

  Miles took no notice. He peeled off the jerseys with his customary efficiency, ridding her of the scraps of despised underwear. He flung a robe at her.

  `Put that on. I'll run you a bath.'

  She huddled into it, glaring at his back. Protest was clearly going to be useless. He slammed the bathroom door.

  Diana rubbed the shivering flesh on her arms. She couldn't remember Miles like this, she thought. Oh, he'd been angry before, but never with this glittering danger as if at an
y moment he might lash out. He was always so cool, so remote. The sense that he might be at the edge of his control was almost frightening. Diana examined her feelings. No, not frightening—exciting.

  Miles came out of the bathroom. The front of his shirt was damp again, revealing the muscles that had held Diana so securely. The dark red hair was curling uncontrollably after its soaking. Diana's mouth went dry. Miles bent and picked her up again, though she protested.

  The bath was steaming. He slipped the robe off her shoulders and held her hand while she got in, then trickled water down her back out of a big sponge. Almost at once she felt the shattering cold along her spine begin to melt. His touch was quite impersonal, but Diana didn't feel impersonal at all. That was exciting too. She tipped her head back, closing her eyes, and gave herself up to the luxurious sensation of his hands on her again.

  He said nothing, playing the warm water over her steadily.

  After a while Diana opened her eyes and tried to behave sensibly. She said with a little difficulty, 'I can do that. I'm all right now. Shouldn't you have a bath yourself? You got as cold as I did.'

  She met his eyes. They gleamed. He didn't look impersonal after all.

  `Are you inviting me to join you?' he asked.

  Heat flooded her cheeks and she sat up straighter. `No,' she choked, though her flesh trembled at the thought. Could he see that? She turned her head away, furious with herself. And ashamed.

  `Only in salt water?' Miles laughed down at her. 'Cold salt water? You may have a point.' But he handed her the sponge, searching her flushed face. 'You're sure you're all right?'

  She nodded, still conscious of that burning blush. His hands left her without apparent reluctance.

  `Then get into bed when you're finished,' he said practically. 'I'll have a hot drink sent up. You probably need food too.'

  She shook her head. Miles took no notice.

  `Don't fall asleep in the bath either,' he instructed. `I'll be back to make sure.'

  His last threat had Diana out of the water and huddled in a nightshirt under the bedcovers in five minutes flat. Which was just as well because, true to his word, he was back in less than ten. He brought a tray of food.

  Diana looked at it with loathing, hugging her arms round her knees.

  `I don't want anything to eat,' she said militantly. 'I told you so.'

  Miles slanted a look down at her. 'Maybe not. But it stops anyone else thinking you do and bringing it up.' Diana stared.

  `I can do without any further interruptions,' he explained, putting the tray down on a distant table.

  Diana's mouth went dry again. 'Why?' she said to his back. It came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. 'Why?'

  He turned back to her. His smile was wry.

  `There are too many people around. Haven't you noticed? When I arranged to get you here I hadn't bargained on a damned houseparty.'

  His eyes were very bright. They searched her face as if they saw secrets there that not even she was aware of.

  Diana felt that treacherous excitement begin to burn again. She could not tear her eyes away from his. `Wh-what do you mean?'

  `Whenever I look for you, you're with somebody else. Whenever I get you alone, someone interrupts.'

  Except on the beach. Neither of them said it, though Diana's cheeks were suddenly on fire. His expression was rueful.

  `Or I get you alone and we don't talk,' he agreed. `Don't you think we need to talk, Di?'

  She moved restlessly. 'You were never very good at talking as far as I remember,' she muttered.

  He grimaced. 'Guilty as charged,' he said, to her surprise. 'Those last weeks I was hell to live with, I know. I'd let work get out of hand and ...'

  `Not just weeks,' Diana said without thinking. 'And not just work.'

  ... I didn't know what to do about us. What did you say?'

  He looked so startled that she felt the easy colour rise again.

  She would have given anything to recall her betraying words. But it was too late. She would have to admit to his face what he must already know, Diana thought resentfully: that she had never understood the hold Susie had over his affections and had been bitterly intimidated by the other woman's glamour and sophistication.

  She lifted her chin and met his eyes defiantly.

  `It had been going wrong for months and you know it.'

  Miles's eyes were shrewd. 'And?'

  Diana swallowed but her chin went higher.

  `And when you didn't come home at night you weren't always in the Physics building,' she flung at him.

  His face went absolutely still. She had the feeling that behind the mask the clever brain was racing. But his expression gave no sign of it. As usual, she thought bitterly.

  `Did you think I was unfaithful, then?' he asked at last softly. 'Out on the town? Cheating on you?'

  To Diana's wincing ears it sounded almost like a taunt. She flung her hair back and met his eyes proudly.

  `I thought it was probable, yes,' she told him in a level voice.

  The brown eyes flickered.

  `Who with, for heaven's sake? I was spending all my waking hours with a computer and Steve Gilman.' `Not,' said Diana with precision, 'all.'

  Miles gave a sharp exclamation, abruptly cut off. His eyes burned into hers. She met the look unflinchingly. She was not, after all these months dealing with life on her own, going to let him intimidate her, she thought with determination.

  At last he expelled a long breath. 'I see. Whatever happened to trust?' His voice was bitter.

  Diana said quietly, 'Trust has to be earned.'

  He winced. 'You thought I'd let you down? Lied to you?' He sounded incredulous.

  She hesitated. Had she ever thought Miles was lying? He kept his own counsel and he never explained what he was doing or why. But lying?

  `Not exactly,' she said.

  `Then what are you talking about?'

  She found she was twisting her hands together. It was an old sign of agitation, and Miles would recognise it as such. She stilled them.

  `Well, you didn't exactly tell me the whole truth about your life, did you?' she said. 'I didn't know about your

  father, for example. Or that you owned this house. Or

  that Chris and Susie were your cousins, not just friends.'

  He was watching her with a curious expression. 'All that stuff was important?'

  She shook her head vigorously. `No. Don't you see, Miles? If you'd told me it wouldn't have mattered a row of beans. What mattered was that there were big bits of your life that you didn't want me to know about. Secrets, Miles. They're not good for mutual trust.'

  He said softly, 'But these are all things you've found out in the last week. They weren't the reason we broke up.

  Diana shut her eyes. 'We broke up,' she said with an effort, 'because we didn't have a marriage anymore.' There was a long, sizzling silence.

  Then Miles said, 'Didn't we? How did you come to that conclusion?'

  Diana opened her eyes and found he was strolling towards the bed. Like a stalking jaguar, she thought, with a little rush of alarm.

  She said hurriedly, 'Look, Miles. You worked. We hardly spoke. Not for weeks. For over a year. And then when Susie rang you—you dropped everything and went to London to see her.'

  He stopped as if she had felled him

  `Susie?' he echoed softly.

  There was an expression in his eyes that made her heart flutter frantically. She went on, almost gabbling, 'Of course you were fond of her. I knew that. And you knew her better than you knew me. She's more your sort of person. She's got the same background. I could see that even before I knew you were cousins. But you didn't say why she needed to see you or when you'd be back—or if you were coming back—'

  `Susie,' he said again on a long breath.

  He gave no sign of having heard a word she'd said, Diana thought. She pleated the edge of the coverlet with fingers that trembled imperceptibly.

 
`You thought I was having an affair with Susie.' It was an accusation.

  She glared at him, in spite of her tremors.

  `It seemed a reasonable deduction.'

  `Did it?' Miles was grim. 'Why didn't you ask me, for heaven's sake?'

  `I thought I did.' She winced, remembering the stilted conversations, Miles's harsh, impatient answers. 'You didn't seem to be making a secret of it.'

  He passed a hand over his face. 'Dear heaven,' he said wearily. 'I didn't realise. It never occurred to me. What made you think of Susie?'

  Diana looked down. She could, of course, have told the literal truth and said, She did. But it wasn't the whole truth, and somehow she didn't feel that less than the whole truth would do.

  So she said carefully, 'You were obviously close. And she's gorgeous. And everyone else seemed to expect you'd marry her if you married anyone.'

  He shook his head, wordlessly.

  `And even when you weren't talking to me you went to her whenever she called,' Diana finished simply.

  `I—oh, lord, yes, I suppose I did,' Miles said as if it was wrenched out of him. 'And I suppose from your point of view I'm still doing it, aren't I?'

  Diana flinched.

  He said urgently, 'Look, I'll get rid of her. I'll get rid of them all. We'll be alone with some time to ourselves. We'll just take it as it comes.'

  She shut her eyes. Being alone with Miles with time to themselves would, she thought, just about take out all her defences. Could she afford it?

  As if he sensed her inner turmoil, he said carefully, `No promises. No pressure. Just a holiday we both need. After all, we always got on well enough, didn't we?'

  She could have screamed that once he had withdrawn into himself they had not got on at all. And her every day had been a nightmare—to say nothing of the empty nights. But she was shaking with reaction already. She didn't think she could take a full-scale confrontation about his personal isolation.

  So instead she said carefully in her turn, 'It's difficult to get on badly with someone who may just have saved your life.'

 

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