by Penny Jordan
‘Why?’ he said harshly at last. ‘For God’s sake, Kelly, use your imagination! It shouldn’t be hard to guess.’
He was gone before she could retort, striding across the cobbles and flinging open the arched oak door, heavily studded, and creaking in the authentic matter.
What did he mean, ‘use your imagination’? Did he mean she ought to be able to guess that he was making some form of atonement, an apology without words, but that wasn’t borne out by his behaviour which had swung from coldly cynical to barely restrained anger ever since they had met in the foyer to his office. He had known she was coming to Edinburgh; he had been prepared for their confrontation, whereas she…
She shivered again, telling herself that she mustn’t allow herself to get caught in the same trap twice. This time she had no excuse; this time she knew that Jake wasn’t interested in her as a person and never had been. At best she had merely been a ‘specimen’, an outdated freakish object in these permissive times, but he had been surprised when she told him that she was still a virgin and his lovemaking had been tender, or so she had thought at the time.
A gust of wind caught the open door, swinging it back with a bang. Kelly jumped, realising that she was alone in the courtyard. Telling herself firmly that she was here to do a job, and nothing else, she followed Jake into the house.
‘AND THIS IS THE GEORGIAN WING,’ Jake said drily, ‘added by the same ancestor who was given the island by King George. He couldn’t get a London architect up here, so he made do with a man from Edinburgh who had studied under Vanbrugh, and was by all accounts mightily pleased with the result.’
They were standing in a panelled library with uniform windows overlooking formal gardens.
‘He wanted to knock down the original castle walls and give himself a better prospect, but his architect warned him that if he did, he’d be looking at barren earth. This side of the island catches the weather. Without the protection of the stone wall very little would grow.’
Privately, Kelly thought the formal garden was delightful. There was something very attractive about a walled garden, she decided, moving closer to the window. Perhaps because in her mind a walled garden was still connected with The Secret Garden which she had loved as a child. Modern-day educationalists probably didn’t approve of such reading for children, she thought wryly, but she had certainly enjoyed it.
‘We’d better take that drive now, I think,’ Jake said behind her. ‘The mist seems to be coming down again.’
Kelly hadn’t noticed it, but he was right. The horizon was gradually blurring and she shivered, although in actual fact the library was quiet and warm.
‘My father wanted you to see as much of the island as possible. No, we’ll go out this way,’ said Jake, suddenly checking her as she turned towards the door.
His hand on her arm restrained her, her pulses thudding hectically, but Kelly seemed unaware of her reaction as he indicated another door she hadn’t seen. It led into a passage which brought them out at the back of the castle in the old and now deserted stable block.
‘These buildings are soundly built and my father believes they can be converted into guest rooms.’
‘But you don’t agree with him?’ Kelly said shrewdly.
‘Well, let’s say I had grown accustomed to thinking this place would be my home.’
‘It still can be surely, if you marry,’ said Kelly, remembering what he had told her.
‘Mmm. You seem to like the house. How about taking me on with it?’
‘The house I would enjoy, but you most definitely not,’ Kelly lied quickly, bending her head so that he wouldn’t see the betraying colours storming her cheeks. Her hand shook weakly as she reached for the door handle, but she was determined not to let him see how much his mocking comment had hurt.
‘Why?’ Jake almost snarled the word, his violence startling her, somehow intensified by the heavy mist pressing in on them. ‘Because I remind you too much of Colin?’ His mouth twisted. ‘There’s one regard in which I’m not like him, Kelly,’ he told her brutally, the breath leaving her lungs on a painful gasp as he reached for her, fingers biting deeply into her arms as he held her against the length of his body, his mouth burning hotly against her as he muttered, ‘and that’s this. He might not have wanted to touch you, but I damned well do!’
His mouth seemed to burn where it touched her, her body on fire with an answering need, her fingers locking behind his neck, her heart thudding against the hard wall of his chest as he kissed her throat, the delicate shell of her ears, her eyelids, closed in mute ecstasy, and then the trembling softness of her lips, tracing their outline with his tongue, tasting them slowly like a connoisseur, before the harsh groan of his indrawn breath sent a shivering response through her, and they parted instinctively beneath the hungry pressure of Jake’s.
An aeon, or was it only seconds, passed. Kelly was oblivious to everything but the possession of Jake’s mouth, the controlled tension in his body which told her how much he wanted her. He broke the kiss, cupping her chin, his breathing harsh and ragged in the misty silence as he stared down at her.
‘You want me, Kelly,’ he said unsteadily, staring down at her. ‘No matter what you told Benson, you want me.’
Kelly felt sick, instinctively pulling away. She might have told Jeremy in an effort to protect herself that she didn’t want Jake, indeed she couldn’t remember now what she had told Jeremy, but Jake had obviously seen her words as some sort of challenge. Waves of nauseous shivering racked her. This was how Colin had looked at her in those moments before he pushed her aside in disgust; angry and aroused, determined to force her to submit to him. Men hated being challenged where their sexuality was concerned, she should have remembered that.
‘No!’
The sound was torn from her throat and she rushed headlong from the stableyard, not caring nor aware of where she was going. The gardens gave way to rugged hillside and scrub, the mist a thick wet blanket penetrating the cord jeans and warm jumper she was wearing. Behind her, she could hear Jake calling, but he sounded so angry that the sound of his voice only incited her to run faster. The ground rose sharply, and Kelly stumbled, catching her foot on a tussock of grass and falling heavily, the breath knocked out of her lungs, so that she was still lying on the damp hillside, fighting for breath, when Jake found her.
‘Are you crazy?’ he demanded roughly. ‘You don’t know a damned thing about the terrain here, you can’t see more than a yard in front of you. You could have killed yourself! What the hell was all that about anyway?’
‘I should have thought it was obvious,’ Kelly managed icily between gulps of air. ‘I didn’t want you to touch me.’
‘So you keep saying,’ Jake agreed brutally, ‘but your body says different. Can you manage to walk back to the castle? I’d carry you, but you don’t want me touching you, do you?’ he said sarcastically, glancing around as he straightened up. ‘I think we’re going to have to abandon our tour of the island. This mist is coming in fast and we wouldn’t be able to see a thing.’
‘Will the pilot be able to land?’ Kelly asked. Her teeth were chattering, her body shocked and cold.
‘What’s the matter? Afraid of being alone with me?’
‘Certainly not,’ Kelly retorted coldly. ‘It’s just that I told my office I’d be returning to London tonight.’
‘No problem,’ Jake assured her. ‘If John can’t land, he’ll radio a message to us, and I’ll have him radio one on to your office. Simple.’
With every step back to the castle the mist seemed to thicken. Kelly felt as though every bone in her body had been jarred by her fall. She ached in a thousand places and seriously doubted that she would have been able to find her way back without Jake. The mist cast an eerie atmosphere round the castle and she found herself shivering as Jake held open the main door.
‘If you can wait half an hour I’ll get the generator going and you can have a hot bath,’ Jake told her laconically. ‘You’re soaked
through.’
The mist hadn’t penetrated his soft leather jacket, and Kelly wondered balefully if he had known what the weather was going to be like before they left Edinburgh. If so, he might have warned her. Her jumper seemed to have absorbed the damp rather than resisted it, clinging to her like a cold wet blanket.
‘I’ll pour you a drink and then I’ll go and see about the generator,’ Jake told her, walking her towards the library. A fire had been laid in the hearth and he knelt down, setting a match to it. ‘Angus comes over every week to check the place over, and fortunately always leave the fires ready.’ He waited for a few seconds until he was sure that the wood had caught, then got up lithely, walking towards one of the cupboards.
‘Drink this,’ he commanded, pouring some amber liquid into a heavy crystal tumbler. ‘It’s whisky,’ he told Kelly when she stared at him rebelliously. ‘Not enough to do you any harm, if that’s what’s worrying you, but it should take the chill off. Here.’
She took the glass, unnerved to discover how much her hands were shaking.
‘Stay here by the fire, I won’t be long,’ Jake told her, watching her dispassionately for a few seconds before heading for the door. After it had closed behind him Kelly was startled to discover that she had been holding her breath. With Jake gone some of the tension drained out of her body, leaving it aching even more than before. Despite the whisky she was still cold, her jumper a wet soggy mass that seemed to clasp her with icy fingers, preventing her from gaining any benefit either from the fire or the whisky.
The lure of the flames proved too much and she inched nearer to their warmth, glancing anxiously at the door before tugging the wet jumper over her head and placing it on the hearth. She would hear Jake coming long before he reached the library—plenty of time for her to pull her jumper on again, and at least in the meantime she could have the benefit of the fire’s warmth.
Gradually the blood seemed to seep back into her frozen body. Lulled by the warmth of the fire and potency of the whisky, Kelly leaned back against a footstool. Jake had been gone longer than she had expected. Perhaps the generator was proving troublesome, she decided drowsily, barely aware that her eyes were closing.
When Jake opened the door she was soundly asleep, her skin gleaming silkily in the firelight. She didn’t stir as he approached, the harsh planes of his face softening slightly as he watched her. He crouched down beside her, saying her name softly, his fingers tracing a line down her back.
Kelly opened her eyes, too comfortable and warm to move. She had been having the most wonderful dream. She had dreamed she was with Jake, in his arms. She sighed, stiffening as she realised where she was and that she wasn’t alone, shock rippling through her as she realised part of it at least hadn’t been a dream. She was in Jake’s arms, her head pillowed against his chest, his fingers stroking softly along her spine. Her jumper! She stared helplessly at the hearth, cursing herself for falling asleep.
‘Jake?’
‘Don’t talk,’ he commanded thickly. ‘Don’t spoil it, Kelly.’
She was aware of him bending his head, of his lips against the back of her neck, awakening sensations she had tried to forget ever since she had returned from Corfu. His mouth moved downwards, lingering on each vertebra. Kelly felt him unfasten her bra, his hands cupping her breasts. Her body shook as she tried to withdraw, to cut herself off from the emotions his touch aroused, but it was too late; her body, weak and treacherous was already responding, overruling the dictates of her mind, and she was twisting in Jake’s arms clinging wordlessly to him as his hands stroked over her body and it surrendered mindlessly to the pleasure of his touch.
‘God knows how I’ve wanted this,’ Jake muttered hoarsely against her throat, his hands on the waistband of her jeans, ‘and you’ve wanted it too, Kelly, no matter how much you try to deny it.’
She was past doing that; past doing anything but responding feverishly to his touch, her lips exploring the warm column of his throat, her body thrilling to the harsh sound of pleasure her touch elicited. And it was Jake who threw aside his jacket, ruthlessly tugging at buttons as he wrenched open his shirt, drawing Kelly down against him as he rolled on to the floor, placing her hands inside his shirt against the tangle of crisp hair darkening his chest.
His flesh tasted faintly salty against her tongue and Kelly shivered in pleasure as she felt his shuddered response, barely aware of him removing her jeans, totally engrossed in her delicate exploration of his body.
When Jake cupped her breasts, kissing the aroused peaks gently, desire cramped through her, her fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans as she fought to control her breathing, terrified of what her response might reveal to him, but it didn’t seem to be enough to stop her from shaking like someone with a fever. And then she realised it was Jake who was shaking, his eyes dark with a passion which stirred her own senses, the brush of his tongue against her nipples making her abandon restraint.
He moved, rolling her underneath him, tugging impatiently at his jeans, muttering something hoarsely under his breath, before he abandoned the attempt, guiding her hands to complete the task, his heart thudding against her like a sledgehammer, making her own blood beat equally frantically.
His belly felt flat and hard, her tentative caresses eliciting a response that made Kelly ache with a need she had suppressed ever since her return from Corfu, only now she wasn’t unknowing and inexperienced and her responses were those of a woman, deeply desirous of a man intensely loved. The touch of Jake’s fingers against her thigh invoked a husky moan of protest, but he seemed not to hear, bending his head to savour the aching tips of her breasts, her whole body acutely attuned to his touch.
‘Kelly, I’m not Colin.’ His voice was slurred, his breathing raw and jagged, his mouth lifting from her breasts to her throat, her thighs parting instinctively as he moved against her, their hearts thudding in unison until the sound seemed to reverberate through the silence of the room.
Jake tensed, lifting his head, and then glanced at his watch. ‘Damn,’ he swore huskily. ‘That’s John back with the plane!’
Kelly pulled away, the spell woven by their lovemaking broken by the intrusion, reality crashing down on her as she reached hurriedly for her jumper.
‘You wanted me, Kelly,’ Jake told her harshly, as though he read her mind and wanted to impose upon it for all time his knowledge of her weakness.
She could have retorted that he had wanted her, but men could want without love, women could not. As she pulled on her jumper she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t run away, hadn’t got wet, hadn’t taken her jumper off and then fallen asleep—and yet deep down inside, part of her refused to regret it; only that they had been interrupted when they had! In his arms, the fact that he had lied to her, made a fool of her, had meant nothing, and the knowledge of how easily her pride gave way to her love shocked and frightened her.
CHAPTER TEN
‘OKAY, so it was too misty to see the island, but couldn’t you have gone back? One or two of us are getting concerned, Kelly—both about you and the future of the company. Things aren’t looking so good. We’re in the middle of a recession and naturally enough the first thing people cut down on are the luxuries: the PR work and advertising. That contract was something we needed!’
Kelly stared disbelievingly at her oldest and most senior fellow director. Alan had said nothing to her of this when she left for Edinburgh. It was true that things were a little difficult at the moment, but surely nowhere near as serious as he was intimating?
‘Look, Kelly, perhaps some of the blame lies with us. A few of us have seen what’s coming, but we haven’t wanted to worry you. In the last month we’ve had four cancellations—three while you were away in Corfu.’
Picking up the implied criticism Kelly replied drily, ‘That was my first holiday in two years, Alan, but I take your point even though I don’t agree that you were right to conceal things from me. But now I do know we’d better call a board
meeting to see how best we can put things right.’
‘If they can be put right,’ Alan Cormont said gravely. ‘I don’t want to be a wet blanket, Kelly, but I think we’ve a tough time ahead of us, the only consolation—if it is a consolation—is that we won’t be alone.
‘You look tired,’ he added with belated consideration, his voice suddenly gruff as he added, ‘You haven’t seemed yourself for a while now, Kelly—ever since you came back from Corfu, in fact. Nothing wrong, is there?’
If only he knew! Kelly thought bitterly. She had left Edinburgh almost immediately the pilot had put down after the short flight back from the island, endured in a cold, griping silence which left her too much time to think; to wonder what had possessed her, and worse, what Jake must have thought of her wildly abandoned response to him.
They had parted with brief, conventional words, and her heart had felt like a lump of lead in her chest ever since her return. And now Alan was berating her for not working harder to get the contract—a contract it seemed her company badly needed. The company, once the totally absorbing raison d’être, had taken second place in her life. She was worried about it, naturally, but nothing like to the extent she would once have been.
The headache which had been hovering all morning struck ferociously after lunch—a sandwich, eaten hurriedly at her desk and washed down with cold coffee—and on impulse Kelly decided to go home. She would worry just as efficiently there, she decided drily, gathering her bag and papers.
She was crossing Bond Street when she felt the hand on her shoulder. As she spun round quickly, her first thought was that someone was about to snatch her bag, but instead she found herself looking into the smiling face of the girl she had last seen at Corfu Airport with Jake.
‘I thought it was you,’ the girl exclaimed eagerly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me stopping you like that. You may not remember me—Corfu, a party…’