'What is it?' Jassy whispered, her heart beginning to pound with a slow languor. He was overpoweringly attractive, filling her senses with his nearness. Her hands moved against the unyielding hardness of his chest in restless exploration, totally unaware of her actions.
'You can marry me,' he said, so quietly that she thought she had misheard him.
She shook her head as if to dislodge a blockage in her ears.
'I'm sorry,' she giggled uncontrollably. 'I thought you said '
'I did,' he cut in. 'I want you to marry me, Jassy.' He enunciated every word very clearly, his voice low and cool and gentle.
She froze for long moments as the impact of his words sank in. She had not dreamt that he would ask her. Could it be possible that he felt the same way as she did?
'You don't have to, you know,' she heard herself saying stupidly, a symptom of her shock.
'I realise that,' Max teased. And then his amusement Was gone. 'God knows, I want to.' Jassy heard the naked, undisguised hunger in his voice, her whole body reacting to it.
'Max -' She whispered his name achingly as his mouth touched hers in a kiss so fierce that she involuntarily swayed her weight against him, uncertain that her legs would support her.
His lips parted hers expertly, hardening in deep passionate, demand at her trembling, inexperienced response. The hunger that she could feel inside him seemed to come from his very soul, as he gathered her against him possessively, his hands slowly sliding down the long smooth curve of her back, to hold her closer, if that was possible. Weakness was flooding her body, a warm ache that relaxed her helplessly in his arms.
Of their own volition Jassy's arms came around his neck, his hair thick and dark around her twining fingers. She stroked his neck and heard him draw breath sharply in response.
His mouth left the softness of her parted lips to trail its fire tenderly over her face, finding the sensitive hollow behind her ear. Jassy could not deny him as she let her head fall back, a soft moan escaping her.
Max lifted his head then, a fierce tenderness lighting his eyes as he gazed down at her, at her beautiful head still arched back, her golden hair wild and soft, glinting against the dark velvet of his jacket, at her closed eyes and invitingly parted lips. He drew a
long breath and briefly kissed her small pointed chin.
'I want you, Jassy,' he muttered unevenly. 'And I always get what I want. You'll marry me?'
'Yes.' It was an immediate acceptance, a soft sigh as she surrendered to him. She opened her eyes and looked up at the magnificent hard-boned beauty of his face. She had lost her heart so easily, so completely. How could she care for him so much when she had only known him for two days? she asked herself wonderingly. He was heart-stoppingly attractive and he wanted her, but more than that she trusted him, felt safe with him. It was dangerous and naive to harbour such feelings, she told herself sternly, because if there was one word that could not be used to describe Max Bellmer, it was 'safe'.
She would become his wife, and the thought brought with it a dizzying excitement so piercing that she could not think straight. Max was still staring down at her, his green eyes flame-bright with intensity, and a faint smile softening his mouth.
'You'll marry me as soon as possible—I've waited too damn long,' he asserted softly, putting her away from him with hands that shook a little and lighting two cigarettes, one of which he placed between her lips with a smile.
'Time to tell your stepfather,' he said firmly.
Jassy bit her lower lip, an unknown fear squeezing her heart.
'Max ... I. . . .' she began worriedly, feeling as though she ought to warn him about something, but not quite knowing what it was.
But Max silenced her, placing a finger over her lips.
'Don't worry, child, we'll go back now and tell him. There will be no problems, I promise you. You don't even need to stay there if you don't want to.'
'But where could I go?' she asked with a miserable shrug of her slim shoulders.
'You could stay with me,' he murmured softly and wickedly. 'Or you could stay with Roxanne and Tomas,' he added, openly amused by the shocked widening of her eyes at his first suggestion. _
As they walked back to the car, Jassy thought about everything that had happened this evening. Her secret fear, a fear that had haunted her ever since leaving school, that Morgan did not care anything for her, had been proved horribly true. He had been very persistent that she lived with him after leaving school, and naively, she had not stopped to examine his motives. Without Morgan she would have been utterly alone in the world and he had been a last link with the mother she had loved so dearly.
Looking back, she realised that she had expected him to love her as his daughter. She knew now that it had been her worst mistake. He had used her ruthlessly, imagining that his wealth and the comfortable life he offered her were compensation enough.
Right from the beginning, he had assessed her potential, working out how she could serve him best. A good, profitable marriage—profitable from his point of view only, of course—was what he had been grooming her for, ever since that bright, lazy summer day, the last day of term, When he had arrived at the school, wreathed in affectionate smiles, to carry her away in his gleaming Bentley.
Even now Jassy could not blame him. It was in his nature, in his blood. Business was his way of life, love and affection—these words held no meaning for him, and perhaps Jassy had known it in her heart all along. Yes, it was her own fault, she thought ruefully, as Max pulled the car back on to the road and they sped towards her hotel. Throughout her adolescence Morgan had been a romantic figure in her life, taking the place of a father.
She had been much envied by her friends. Morgan Carrington was well-known, wealthy, successful and ruggedly handsome, but more than that, he was her stepfather, always arriving at the school with armfuls of expensive presents, taking her out and making her feel grown up. All these things had been balm to a love-starved teenager who had lost her mother.
She had clung to her illusions with vigour, and it was only as she had lived with him and begun to know what he was really like, that she had begun to fight. Right up to this evening she had stubbornly refused to believe that he really would force her to marry Rene against her wishes. How stupid could she be? she now asked herself scathingly.
Just before it was too late, the veils had been ripped from her eyes, and only a few hours before, as Morgan had ranted and raved at her, she had seen him clearly for the first time in her life and she had feared him. The callous manipulation that had governed her life for years had been revealed in all its shocking ugliness. She had fought for her very survival as a person in her own right and although she had won, for the moment at least, she had found herself back where she had been when her mother died, utterly alone in the world and unloved.
Magically, Max had saved her. She was not alone or unloved any longer. She had been drawn to him from the beginning, he had taken her over from that first moment of meeting. She had never believed in love at first sight, it had been the stuff of romantic fairytales, but now she knew it as fact. She had fallen in love with Max and fallen hard, from the moment she met him. It was useless to wonder how that could be, she could not explain it herself. Perhaps it was
fate, her destiny to meet and fall in love with him.
He had asked her to marry him, offering her love and security for ever. It was like a dream. Dear God, how I love you, Max, she thought fiercely and silently, shocked by the depth of her feelings as she turned to look at his proud, stark profile in the darkness. I hope I can make you happy.
CHAPTER SIX
FOUR hours later, Jassy lay dry-eyed and incredibly wide awake in the darkness of a strange bedroom.
Roxanne and Tomas had discreetly not asked any questions when she and Max had arrived at the villa at such a late hour. It was obvious to them that something was wrong. Roxanne's worried glance had slid from Jassy, pale and tearful, her soft brown eyes blank and shocked, to
Max, grim and violently angry, his powerful body tense and still, and she had offered help immediately.
She had tactfully left them alone in the huge lounge, with the excuse that she would get Jassy's room ready. As soon as she had gone Max had taken Jassy into his arms, stroking her cheek gently, and she had pressed her face to the hard warmth of his shoulder in desperate need.
'Are you okay?' he had asked, with such tenderness that she had felt bruised by it. She had felt deadly calm and had even managed a blank smile. She had grown up almost in a matter of minutes and the jolt into maturity had stunned her.
'Yes, I'm okay,' she had finally answered, unwilling for him to bear the pain and concern that shadowed his lean face, when he looked at her. 'But I feel exhausted.'
'I'd better leave then and let you get some sleep,' he had murmured reluctantly, obviously unwilling to leave her. He had kissed her briefly, his mouth warm and loving. 'I'll call round first thing in the morning,' he had promised. 'And if you need me tonight, call me, right?'
Then he had left the house, murmuring a few words to Roxanne on his way out. Jassy had sat perfectly still, listening to the roar of the car engine. He had gone, and she felt very lonely, regretting her white lie.
She had refused Roxanne's offer of coffee, thankful for the other woman's kindness. She had wanted to explain what had happened to Roxanne, her new friend, but spmehow the words had not come and she had gone to bed soon after Max's departure.
She lay on her back now, very still, the effort of moving any part of her body too much for her, staring up at the ceiling.
The house was silent and dark, but her mind was buzzing with light and noise, and she could not sleep, the evening's events were spinning endlessly around in her head.
Max had taken her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly as they had stepped into the lift that would take them up to Morgan. His bleak eyes had been raking her stricken face.
'There's nothing to worry about,' he had said with a thin smile. Jassy remembered wishing that she could believe him.
Max had flung open the door of the suite, without knocking, Jassy behind him, so physically frightened that her knees had been knocking together.
Morgan had been standing by the window, smoking, a brooding frown creasing his face. His cold eyes had flashed icy fury at the sight of Max.
Jassy closed her eyes, her head moving restlessly on the soft pillows as she thought about it now. The ugly scene that had ensued had been the most shocking thing in her life. The very sight of her and Max together had triggered off a terrible, bitter fury in Morgan that even now Jassy could not fully understand. As her stepfather had begun shouting,
Jassy had pulled free of Max, sinking down into one of the plush chairs, her hands pressed over her ears in a defensive effort to blot out what was being said.
Max had been ice cold, grim and frighteningly controlled, only the muscle jerking erratically in his jaw had given him away as being furiously angry.
He had won even before he started, because Morgan did not have a leg to stand on. Jassy was over eighteen, legally she could do as she pleased, and Morgan's threats had been completely dismissed by Max, as he destroyed the older man with a cold, ruthless precision that had frightened Jassy.
She had tried to intervene, but both men had ignored her. It had become a personal battle of wills between them and she had no part in it.
Jassy is coming with me when I leave here tonight,' Max had said tersely. 'We are going to be married, with or without your consent. I don't give a damn about your consent, but I think Jassy would appreciate it.'
'You're going to wish you'd never defied me like this, I promise you!' Morgan had turned on Jassy, his voice threatening. She had shrunk fearfully farther into her seat.
'If you ever touch a hair on her head, I'll break you Carrington, and you know I can do it,' Max had cut in, in a dangerously soft voice, stopping Morgan dead in his tracks.
They had left the hotel soon afterwards. Jassy had collected her few most precious possessions, which she always carried with her, and Max had promised to collect the rest of her things for her later.
'You were very hard on him,' she had whispered to Max as they drove to Roxanne's villa. Max flashed her a dark glance, taking-his eyes off the road for a second.
'Dammit, I had to be,' he had replied harshly. 'He would have destroyed you, Jassy, don't you understand that?'
She had shrugged her slender shoulders in defeat, averting her eyes from his. 'So you destroyed him before he got the chance,' she had replied flatly, her voice totally devoid of expression.
Max's strong hands had clenched on the steering wheel, betraying his irritation with her. 'Do you think I enjoyed it?' he had asked grimly.
'How should I know?' she had replied uncaringly, too upset to be able to think straight.
'If that's what you want to think,' Max had said very coolly, making no excuses for his behaviour.
Jassy covered her face with shaking hands as she relived that short conversation, the release of tears finally forcing their way to the surface to wash away the intolerable pain she felt inside. She had made Max angry with her, practically blaming him for what had happened. How could she have been so unfair? she wondered now, as sobs racked her weary body. The long-term consequences of this evening were too painful to think about and, crying herself into exhaustion, she finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
She was woken late the next morning by Roxanne bearing a cup of coffee with a worried expression. She shook Jassy's shoulder gently.
'Wake up, Jassy. I've brought you some coffee, and Max is here.'
Jassy struggled into wakefulness slowly, painfully aware as she forced open her eyes that her head was throbbing agonisingly. Roxanne pulled up the blinds and threw open the shutters and Jassy blinked in the bright light, a small gasp of pain escaping her.
'Headache?' Roxanne enquired sympathetically, surveying the pale beautiful girl in front of her.
'Yes, I feel dreadful,' Jassy replied ruefully.
'I'll get you some painkillers,' said Roxanne with a smile. 'And do you want any breakfast?'
'Oh no, I couldn't face food,' Jassy muttered with a heartfelt grimace.
Roxanne turned to leave the room. 'Max is pacing up and down like a caged lion out there. I'll tell him that he'll just have to wait,' she laughed.
'Thank you, Roxanne,' Jassy said quietly. 'Thank you for everything.'
Roxanne shrugged. 'You're welcome here,' she said lightly. 'And now—those tablets.'
She shut the door quietly and Jassy forced herself to sit up and sip the hot, delicious coffee. All the dreadful events of the previous day rushed back into her mind with a jolt as her head cleared and she became fully awake. It did not improve her headache.
The sky was an arch of pure bright blue outside the open window, the sweet, high call of the birds, noisy and insistent.
Jassy slid out of bed, feeling a little better for the coffee, although her head was still thumping with pain as she stood up. She walked to the window and looked out over the beach, finding the warm, faintly salted air, somehow soothing. The sun was high and she idly wondered what time it was. A knock on the door revealed Roxanne with the promised painkillers. Jassy swallowed them immediately, murmuring her thanks.
'Would it be possible for me to take a shower?' she asked Roxanne. She felt dreadfully hot and sticky.
'Of course. I was about to ask you ifyou wanted one.'
'Oh dear, I've just remembered that I didn't bring any clothes with me last night.' She looked around for the red gypsy dress. She would have to wear that.
'No problem,' Roxanne smiled, her eyes skimming over Jassy in quick calculation. 'I guess we're about the same size, I'll lend you something,' she said brightly. It was a great relief. Jassy did not think that she would ever be able to wear her red dress again in comfort. It would always remind her.
'That's great, thanks. By the way what time is it?'
Roxanne consulte
d the small gold watch on her wrist. 'Just before one.'
'Good heavens! How could I have slept so late?' Jassy asked, appalled.
'I didn't have the heart to wake you before,' Roxanne said laughingly.
'What time did Max get here?' Her face flushed a little as she spoke his name.
'About ninejthirty. He looks dreadful—I don't think he got any sleep last night. You'll see for yourself anyway.'
She led Jassy to the shower and left her to it, while she went in search of some suitable clothes. Jassy stepped out of her underwear into the elegant dark-blue tiled shower and turned the taps full on, the pelting cold water making her gasp. She washed her hair, lingering under the cool jets of refreshing water, and on stepping out and winding a huge fluffy towel around herself, sarong-wise, she found a neat pile of clothes waiting for her.
Smiling and feeling very much better, her headache practically gone, she dried herself quickly and slipped on the pale green cotton skirt and matching tee-shirt that Roxanne had lent her. They fitted perfectly.
Clever, kind Roxanne, she thought affectionately, as she brushed out her hair and tied it in a ponytail. She had not brought any make-up with her, in her flight from the hotel, and not wanting to impose on Roxanne more than she had to, she left her face bare. I look like a schoolgirl, she thought wryly, glancing at her face in the mirror. Too bad.
It was time to face Max, so taking a deep trembling breath, she left the bathroom, her bare white feet making no sound on the cool marble floors as she went in search of him.
He was alone in the lounge, standing by the window, gazing out at the ocean, his back to her, his powerful shoulders hunched. She watched him silently for a moment, a warm tide of fierce emotion washing over her at the sight of him.
'Max. . . .' She spoke his name softly and he spun round to face her, his inscrutable green eyes travelling slowly over her, devouring her damp shining hair, the pure young beauty of her face and the tense slenderness of her body, in the bright borrowed clothes. And all this time, she was watching him. His lean face looked haggard, lines of tiredness and strain tightening his mouth. He wore faded jeans and a dark open-necked shirt, his aggressive sexual aura weakening her legs.
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