Reba shivered sensually, feeling her flesh engorge as his hot gaze grazed her. Her body might reveal her wanting, but it hid the deeper need. He could have the part he wanted, and she would take joy from that, and her heart could pretend it held his for all too brief a time.
There was too much emotion inside her to answer with words. Instead, she shrugged her arms out of the sleeves and reached up to curl her fingers into his hair, holding him while she raised herself to close that small gap and kiss him with instinctive sensuality, wanting to give him pleasure, needing to do it for the sake of her soul. She loved this man, and nothing they did could ever be sordid. She was going to make love to him, whether he knew it or not.
Whatever Hunter was thinking as he responded to her kiss, there was only tenderness in the caressing stroke of his hands on her. She knew he wanted her, feeling the hardness of his arousal through his clothes, but his control was awesome. He moved with exquisite slowness to each new caress, drawing her to the very limits of endurance. Her breasts were aching points of pleasure which he teased with merciless flicks of fingers and tongue, and then abandoned. The torturous path he took across her quivering belly to the dark shadow below had her arching her back in delirium, and when his intimate caress probed on, her thighs parted willingly. She moved against the stroking caress, breath rasping from her throat as he pushed her towards the edge, only to abandon her once again.
When she fell back panting, eyes wild with need for the fulfilment he denied her, Hunter’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Sitting up, he quickly stripped off his clothes before lying down beside her.
Had she ever doubted his intentions, she knew then that this was to be no revenge. He offered himself openly to her, giving her leave to do to him what he had just done to her, and she accepted gladly. She caressed him tenderly, lovingly, wanting to memorise every inch of him, every shivering groaning response. For Hunter held nothing back, arching as she had done when pleasure took him, eyes glinting, promising delicious tortures when she left him too, craving but unsatisfied.
It was a battle as monumental as the one raging outside, generating a scorching heat as they now came together, slick bodies and tangled limbs reflecting the lamplight as they rolled and fought, inflicting delights which each in turn tried to outdo, until finally victory came from mutual surrender. Heart racing, scarcely able to breathe, she felt Hunter brace himself between her thighs, entering her with a thrust which made her cry out and wrap her legs round him. Then that awesome control failed him, and Reba moved with him to each powerful stroke, clinging on as the tension mounted, coiling inside them until there was nothing else it could do but snap, sending an explosive wave of pleasure through them. As one they both cried out from a feeling so intense it left them shattered and broken upon another shore.
Then came peace.
Reba stirred and sighed deeply, aware of a feeling of such well-being that she didn’t want to open her eyes. She felt warm and secure, and knew it came from the strong pair of arms which held her. Hunter lay curved in behind her, his head resting in the hollow of her shoulder and neck. She could hear him breathing, steady and strong, and memory returned.
Reluctantly she blinked her eyes open. The cellar was as it had been, the lamps still burned brightly, but she had no way of knowing if it was dark or light, or how long ago they had fallen into exhausted sleep. The silence struck her then. Had the storm blown itself out, as their own personal one had done? It would be a simple matter to climb the steps and poke her head through the trapdoor and see for herself, but she felt too comfortable to move. Too content.
Not so content that she didn’t know that last night had changed nothing. They had shared passion, not love—or so he thought. Had things been different, they might have gone on from here to find a new beginning. She would never know, because now she had to make a demand of him which would forever damn her in his eyes. That hurt unbearably, and unbidden came the question: should she tell him? Lord, she wanted so much to tell him about her mother, but two things held her back.
Harriet Wyeth was a proud woman. She despised pity and hated charity. She had sworn all her children to keep her illness secret, and none of them would ever have dreamed of breaking her trust. Reba had only got permission to tell Eliot because he had been about to become part of the family. Hunter wasn’t. Their commitment went no further than the passion they shared, and he paid for. He didn’t love her. They had no future. So even if she had permission to tell him, she wouldn’t. Telling him wouldn’t miraculously make him love her again. Too much had happened. She was proud too. She wouldn’t want his pity either.
So this was the best way, the only way. She couldn’t even delay it, because there was no time. She had to become once more what he already believed her to be. It was her protection and her curse.
Behind her, Hunter sighed heavily and rolled away from her, taking the warmth with him, leaving her chilled. Symbolic? Perhaps, but it gave her the opportunity to turn and watch him while he slept on. If-onlys were pointless. They were just daydreams. The facts were unchangeable.
‘Why so pensive?’
Hunter’s husky question startled her, making her realise that he must have been watching her for some time. She wondered what else he might have seen, but then decided it really didn’t matter. She sat up, feeling the unaccustomed ache of her body, knowing that when it faded the ache in her heart would feel worse.
‘It’s tomorrow,’ she said flatly, reaching for his shirt because it was closer, and slipping it on.
Propping himself up on his elbow, Hunter ran a finger down her thigh. ‘Don’t you know tomorrow never comes?’
Her laugh sounded scratchy. ‘Oh, it comes, believe me.’ Now she turned to look at him, trying to ignore the magnificent picture he made stretched out beside her. ‘I believe we also have a bargain.’
Unfazed, Hunter smiled confidently, keeping up that small stroking movement. ‘I like the way you do business.’
She slapped his hand away because she wanted it to continue. ‘I’m serious, Hunter!’
Her tone got through, and he tipped his head consideringly. ‘Hmm, I can see that you are. You seem to have learnt the first rule of business, tiger-eyes. You’ve lowered my defences, so you’d better tell me what’s on your mind.’
Reba swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry mouth. What she had to say sounded so bald that she shuddered to think of it, yet she had to go on. ‘You want us to continue as lovers, don’t you?’
Now it was Hunter’s turn to sit up, bringing him far too close for her comfort. ‘After last night, I know you won’t be averse to it either.’
He sounded different somehow, warmer than he had done since they had met again. Suddenly she wondered if she was making another big mistake, but there was no time for doubts. All the same, she was shaking, and she had to press her hands together hard to prevent it showing. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. However, it appears to me I’ve kept my side of the bargain. Now it’s up to you to keep yours,’ she declared huskily.
She could feel the change in him as he tensed. ‘Meaning?’ he demanded through clenched teeth, and she closed her eyes.
‘I think a sign of good faith is in order, don’t you?’ she enlarged, and, in case he didn’t yet understand, made herself add, ‘Last night you mentioned profit…’
The word hung between them forever. When at last he spoke, his voice was frosty. ‘I see. And just how much profit do you think last night was worth?’
Reba desperately wanted to cry as something curled up and died inside her. Her voice was flat as she stated the exact amount she needed for her mother’s operation. Hunter caught his breath sharply, and when she forced herself to look at him it was to see his jaw working furiously as he kept hold of his temper.
When he smiled, it nearly killed her. ‘You don’t come cheap, do you? Very well, tiger-eyes, I’ll write you out a cheque, but be assured, I intend to get my money’s worth!’
Hot colour stormed her che
eks, then flooded out, leaving her white. ‘A bargain is a bargain.’
As if her words were the last straw, Hunter was on his knees in an instant, catching her by the shoulders and shaking her roughly. ‘Damn you, Reba, couldn’t you put greed aside for a moment?’
It wasn’t greed, it was necessity. ‘You made the rules!’ she returned, wanting to scream at him but managing to keep her head.
His fingers bit hard into her shoulders but he didn’t notice. ‘So I did, but stupidly I didn’t think you’d follow them quite to the letter!’
‘Then you were mistaken, weren’t you?’ she snapped, gasping when he thrust her away.
‘It seems I’ve been wrong about a lot of things!’ he declared in distaste. Standing up, he reached for his clothes, pulling them on with angry movements that made her flinch inwardly. ‘You’d better get dressed. I’m going up to check on the damage.’
Reba watched him go, feeling battered. Wearily she went in search of her clothes, still lying tossed in the corner. The raincoat was beyond hope, but her own shorts, top and panties were virtually dry. She dressed quickly, spurred on by her own goading thoughts. Her hair was a mess, and she knew she must look as if she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, but she didn’t care. She had done what she had to do, and nothing else seemed to matter right now.
When she climbed up out of the cellar, the world seemed pretty much as she had left it, except that it felt cooler and smelled fresher. It was barely light, but enough to see by. Hunter was out on the veranda, clearing wind-blown debris away with more effort than the task warranted. She hadn’t thought he’d heard her arrival, but then he spoke without turning round.
‘The track should be OK. The damage here is light. There might be a tree or two down, but you’ll be able to get round them safely. It will take me a while to order transport, but that will give you about two hours to be ready to leave.’
He could have been speaking to a stranger, and that hurt. She bit her lip. ‘Where are we going?’
He turned then, his expression sardonic. ‘Does it matter? I’ll be paying for the privilege! Just get yourself back here in two hours.’
Reba raised a hand to her lips to hold back a sob. ‘Hunter, please don’t be like this,’ she pleaded in a broken whisper, but he only laughed humourlessly.
‘As you so rightly said, rules are rules. It’s my fault for forgetting you only have one god, Mammon. You can be sure I won’t make that mistake again.’
It was pointless to attempt to say more. She had made a mess of things, and now she had to live with the consequences. She had a promise of the money, and she had to keep that in mind all the time. It was the only thing which made this situation remotely tolerable.
She simply walked away without looking back, keeping her concentration fully on the track. There were slippery leaves everywhere, and every so often she had to negotiate a fallen palm. When she emerged back at the house, all was quiet, roof and shutters intact. Once the clearing up had been done, there would be nothing to show that the storm had ever happened, but she knew she would always bear the scars. She slipped inside and up to her room unnoticed. She doubted if anyone had even known she had gone. By the time she heard sounds of movement, she had had a long soak in the bath and washed her hair, and her bags stood packed beside the door.
She took them down with her, leaving them by the front door. Good manners meant she must say goodbye, even if she didn’t feel like it. When she walked out on to the terrace, the returned servants had already made inroads into the clearing up. Breakfast was ready, the table and chairs set up, and they were making a start on removing the shutters. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, which was all she thought she could stomach right then, Reba wandered over to the parapet, staring out to sea. The water was grey. She felt grey too.
That was where Eliot found her fifteen minutes later. She glanced up at the sound of his footsteps, and stiffened. They were no longer even friends, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise.
‘Good morning. The house doesn’t seem to have suffered any damage,’ she said, determined to be civil.
‘How would you know? When I went to your room about half-past one this morning, to see how you were, you weren’t there,’ he commented frostily, and her heart lurched painfully.
‘You came to my room?’ she repeated faintly, and he nodded.
‘Where were you, Reba?’
She had gone through too much already this morning to suffer this catechism mildly. Her good intentions vanished instantly. ‘Would it suffice to know I was with Hunter, or do you require a blow-by-blow account?’ she returned coldly. He had no right to pass judgement on her. They were no longer engaged.
Eliot’s colour rose. ‘My God, you’re even quite brazen about it!’ he exclaimed disgustedly.
Indignation had her eyes flashing gold fire. ‘I don’t think what I do is any of your business, in the circumstances.’
‘You’ve been carrying on with him behind my back all the time, haven’t you?’ he charged nastily, making her blood boil.
‘I was completely loyal to you while we were engaged but, seeing that we aren’t any longer, I’m not ashamed of admitting I already knew Hunter before I agreed to marry you. I didn’t know he was your cousin, and I certainly never expected to see him again.’
‘What you mean is, if you’d known he had money, you never would have accepted me in the first place,’ he accused next. ‘Does he know you only want him for his money?’
Her eyes felt gritty from unshed tears. ‘Yes, but I’m leaving with him all the same. Please say goodbye to your mother for me.’ When she would have walked away he caught her arm, turning her so that he could examine her face. What he saw had him laughing aloud.
‘Well, well, well! You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’
Reba could have lied, but the emotion which filled her chest at the question made the option untenable. ‘I’ll always love him,’ she confessed proudly, and jerked herself free.
She was about to go and collect her luggage when the sound of a helicopter approaching took them both by surprise. They looked up in time to see it fly over the island, but quickly lost sight of it, although it could still be heard. She knew it was her transport off the island, and she went and picked up her cases, but when she turned, Eliot blocked her way.
His eyes glittered tauntingly. ‘He doesn’t love you, though, does he?’
The accurate gibe made her wince. Embattled, she held his gaze. ‘No. Does that satisfy your pride?’
He laughed, unpleasant to the last. ‘Almost. I think I’ve already seen my revenge. I hope you’ll be very unhappy, Reba. In fact, I’d almost bet on it that you are!’
‘Then you’d be wrong. Being with Hunter has always made me happy. There’s never been anyone else I wanted to share my life with!’
That wiped his smile away. ‘But you agreed to marry me.’
‘I had no choice. If you understood the concept of real love, you’d know that!’ she responded heatedly, and they faced each other in angry silence.
‘Are you ready, Reba?’
Neither of them had heard Hunter arrive, and they both spun round. All the colour left her cheeks as she saw him standing at the top of the steps. How long had he been there? What had he heard? His face was shuttered; there was nothing to be read there.
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged, brushing past the now silent Eliot. Hunter came forward to take the cases from her. Their eyes met, and his were guarded, remote.
‘There’s still time to change your mind,’ he said coldly, and her stomach lurched. Surely it wouldn’t always be like this?
She shook her head. ‘No. No, there isn’t. Let’s go.’
Something flickered in the very depths of his eyes, but was swiftly gone. ‘After you,’ he said with extreme politeness, and with a heavy heart she stepped off into an uncertain future.
When Hunter had said he’d arrange transport, Reba hadn’t visualised being taken to the mainland b
y helicopter and then transferring to a gleaming Lear jet. Her bruised heart got a little more battered as she noted these trappings of wealth. She felt his eyes on her again. He had been watching her for most of the helicopter flight, and it was beginning to make her feel very nervous. It occurred to her that she should at least say something which was in character.
‘Very impressive,’ she muttered as they mounted the steps of the jet, to where the pilot waited to greet them.
‘Think it’s the style you could soon get accustomed to?’ Hunter enquired sardonically, and she winced, unable to utter another word.
The moment they were aboard, the steps were removed and the door shut. The pilot exchanged words with Hunter, then nodded politely and headed for the cockpit, while a smiling stewardess indicated the seat she should take. She collapsed into it, allowed herself to be strapped in, and within seconds the jet was thundering down the runway and they were airborne.
Reba took her eyes from the window to discover that she was under surveillance again. Edgily she glanced away. What was he trying to do, shrivel her up? Her eyes went to her wrist, wondering how long the flight would be, but she had left the diamond watch behind, and rubbed her bare wrist self-consciously.
‘Lose your watch?’ Hunter queried dulcetly. ‘I’ll have to buy you another.’
That brought her head up. ‘You will not! I have a perfectly good watch in my case.’
One eyebrow lifted, ‘It would please me to give you things,’ he pointed out.
‘And it would please me to throw them back at you!’ she retorted fiercely, before realising that that was hardly in character at all. ‘I mean…’ She swallowed hard and hesitated, noting the gleam in his eyes.
‘Yes, what do you mean, tiger-eyes?’ he prompted instantly, making it impossible to go on.
‘Nothing. Leave me alone, Hunter. I’m tired.’
The Bitter Price Of Love Page 15