‘What’s the matter?’ she shouted above the thunder of the wind and waves.
Stupid question. Everything in the world was the matter and it was all her fault. Hers and Bea’s. And there was nothing obvious she could do to set things right now, although she was appalled by the trouble she had caused. To her surprise, James suddenly seized her hand and dragged her up the powdery white beach to the crest of the sand hills and down into a hollow beyond. Suddenly the clamour of the wind was silenced, as if by magic, and she found that she could hear subtler sounds. The uneven rasp of James’s breathing, the thudding of her own heart.
To her alarm, he cupped her face in his hands.
‘You’re not really going ahead with this farcical marriage, are you?’ he demanded.
She jerked her head away as if he had slapped her.
‘Please! Stop it!’ she cried in a low, tormented voice. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘You’ll ruin your own life and Sam’s too,’ he said savagely. ‘You can’t possibly marry him.’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘Because you really want to go to bed with me.’
She gasped and looked up at him with wildly dilated eyes.
‘That’s not true.’
‘Isn’t it? Tell me, Beatrice, what’s it like when Sam kisses you?’
Beatrice. Laura dropped her gaze and turned crimson.
‘That’s none of your business.’
But he seemed determined to make it his business. With an impatient oath, he tore off the band which held her hair confined and let it tumble in riotous profusion around her shoulders. Then, threading his fingers through the disordered strands, he forced her head back so that she had to look at him. His face was so close to hers that she could catch the spicy whiff of his aftershave and see the dark shadow of his beard beneath his skin. An alarming weakness overtook her as she wondered how it would feel to reach up her fingers and stroke the rugged outline of his jaw.
‘When he kisses you, does it make your heart pound as if you’re running a marathon?’ he demanded. ‘Do you feel as if you’d die if you lost him? Does a crowded room go still and strange and silent for you when he comes into it? Do you feel a need more urgent than anything you’ve ever imagined for him? Do you love him, Bea?’
All the bizarre events of the last forty-eight hours crowded in upon her. What a mess it was—herself and Raymond, Bea and Sam, James, the wedding rehearsal … So many tangles, all starting from one insignificant little lie like a dropped stitch in a pattern. Tell him the truth! her conscience urged. Tell him now! She opened her mouth to speak, then looked at his intent, brooding face and her nerve failed her. Twice she moistened her lips, looking at him with a wordless longing to confess and be forgiven, then she dropped her head, avoiding his gaze.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I do.’
‘Liar,’ he breathed, and hauled her into his arms. ‘This is what a kiss should be like.’
Her stomach dived at the realisation of what he was about to do, and then he was doing it and nothing else mattered. Laura had been kissed before, but never like this. She willed herself not to respond, but it was useless. James’s muscles were as hard as whipcords as he trapped her between his thighs and forced her backwards. His powerful hands were splayed against her shoulderblades so that she was in no real danger of falling and yet an extraordinary dizziness rushed through her. A dizziness that only increased when she saw the flare of longing in his eyes, the hungry need in his parted lips, the tension that contorted his features. Then his warm, demanding mouth covered hers and she forgot everything in a hot, engulfing surge of unfamiliar excitement.
Ruthlessly his tongue thrust to meet hers, and the intimate contact unleashed a tingling current of sensation deep inside her. Every part of her seemed to be throbbing and aching with yearning for a deeper union. His grip tightened around her and she felt the hard, urgent heat of his arousal pressed against her. She should have been shocked and outraged. Instead a heady sense of exultation surged through her and suddenly she felt as violently out of control as if she had just catapulted over the edge of a steep, thundering waterfall. Her ears roared, her eyelids fluttered shut and she swayed against him, glorying in the unfamiliar tingling sensations that were pulsating through her.
James uttered a low groan as she arched backwards, pressing her breasts against him, and his kisses grew even more passionate. His mouth plundered hers in a series of assaults that half alarmed and half enthralled her. But she did not resist. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck, lifted her lips to his and kissed him back as wantonly as if nothing existed except the roaring sea, the sheltered hollow and their own urgent need for each other.
Only when he released his grip on her back and plunged his right hand down the neck of her blouse did she come to her senses. His touch was unbearably exciting, making both her nipples rise into hard, aroused peaks and sending thrills of desire through her. But it was outside her previous experience and it shocked her back to sanity.
‘No!’ she whimpered, grabbing at his wrist and pulling it away. ‘No…don’t!’
His features swam in and out of her disordered senses. She was aware that she must look a sight, with her hair blowing wildly in the wind, her face flushed and her breath coming in shallow, uneven flutters. How could she have allowed such a thing when even Ray had never touched her so intimately? And how could James have attempted it? Didn’t he still believe that she was on the brink of marrying his nephew? What kind of man was he to ignore every bond of loyalty and decency in pursuit of passion? Did it mean that he had fallen so violently in love with her that he would venture anything, however illicit? Or…
Her heart turned to stone as she realised that James was making no attempt to take her in his arms again. Instead he stood looking at her with an odd, contemptuous smile on his lips. He looked both satisfied and scornful, as if she had just given him the evidence to prove some pet theory of his. Understanding dawned on her as she saw that he hadn’t been carried away by passion at all. Quite the reverse. He had deliberately set up this whole situation just to demonstrate that she would never be faithful to Sam. The swine! The cold-hearted, manipulative swine!
‘You realise you can’t stay here any longer, don’t you?’ he taunted.
Then, thrusting her away, he strode off into the sand hills alone.
CHAPTER THREE
HE WAS standing by the car with his arms folded and a stony expression on his face when she finally caught up with him. All the turbulent feelings that had buffeted her earlier had now resolved themselves into a single emotion. Rage.
‘Did you kiss me just so that you could prove that I don’t love Sam enough to marry him?’ she burst out.
He shrugged. His face was like a rigid mask, with no sign of life apart from the burning eyes and the twisted smile.
‘It hardly needs proving, does it?’ he drawled insultingly. ‘From the first moment I set eyes on you I knew that you wanted me and that you didn’t want Sam. Kissing you merely confirmed it. Frankly, I think it’s despicable to marry a man you don’t want just for security.’
Laura clenched her fists so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.
‘Any more despicable than trying to seduce your nephew’s bride?’ she whipped back.
His head jerked up as if she had hit him.
‘I had no intention of seducing you!’
‘Really? What have you just been engaged in, then? Target practice for the next lucky woman?’
‘Don’t be a fool. Of course I desire you. You have a very sensual presence, as you must know perfectly well. But the fact that I want you is as meaningless as the fact that you want me. It’s good, old-fashioned animal lust, nothing more. I would never have taken you to bed, Beatrice. When you finally commit the ultimate betrayal against Sam, it won’t be with me. Some other man can have the honour.’
The sneer in his tone made Laura grit her teeth in helpless fury. She had always thought of
herself as quiet and sensible, but now she felt a red-hot urge to run at James and slap his face. Her legs began to shake so much that she felt as if they would no longer hold her.
‘You brute,’ she breathed. ‘I despise you.’
He smiled contemptuously.
‘Then we’re even, because I despise you too, sweetheart. And, under the circumstances, I feel it’s impossible for you to remain at my home. You’ll have to leave, and the sooner the better. I suggest you stay at a hotel in Hobart until the wedding—if you’re still fool enough to plan on having a wedding. Naturally I’ll pay for your accommodation.’
Laura contemplated trying to explain that she wasn’t the one getting married, but her urge to set the record straight was immediately obliterated by a passionate thirst for revenge. James despised her, did he? Then why should she make matters any easier for him by telling him the truth? Let him go on thinking that she was Bea! It would only make him look more of a fool when he finally did find out about their deception.
And Laura wanted James to look a fool! She wanted him to suffer just as badly as he had made her suffer. Perhaps, if he felt like a complete idiot, he wouldn’t even come to the wedding and she need never set eyes on him again. Fine! In any case, she certainly wasn’t staying around here to be humiliated any further!
‘I’d rather go back to Sydney,’ she snapped.
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ he agreed coldly. ‘I’ll organise a hire car for you and, if you set off immediately, you may get to Devonport in time to catch tonight’s ferry. You do drive, I take it?’
‘Yes.’
The journey to the north-west coast of the island was a nightmare. At first Laura felt nothing but heartfelt relief at escaping the chaos she had left behind. Yet as mile after mile slipped away, and she went over and over the events of the last two days, resentment began to engulf her, like a raging inferno.
She barely noticed the baby lambs, the pink spring blossom, the faint mist of green leaves on the willows along the creek beds or the yellow-flowered gorse bushes and clumps of spring daffodils. All she could see was James’s silent, gloating face, and all she could feel was the way her fingers itched to slap it. Even when she finally went aboard the ferry and the green fields were replaced by flocks of shrieking seagulls and the vast, shimmering expanse of Bass Strait, she still could not settle. All night she lay awake in her comfortable bunk, feeling the vibration of the ship’s engines and wishing she could murder Sam’s uncle.
At least the long drive from Melbourne to Sydney had a hypnotic effect that was almost therapeutic. For hour after hour she sent the car hurtling up the highway, until at last exhaustion began to blunt the fury she was feeling. Even so, there were times when she was tempted to scream out loud. It struck her as a huge irony that the only time in her life she had ever met a man who made her burn with sexual passion he had to be an utter swine whom she absolutely hated.
Well, at least she only had to see him one more time, at Bea’s wedding, and after that she need never set eyes on him again. She could go back to her sane, peaceful life as a career woman and congratulate herself on all she had missed. All the anger and quarrelling and insecurity of being involved with a man. No, thanks! she thought wildly. I’d rather have my job and my tidy little flat and weekend tennis rosters with Ray…Then why did her job and the tennis club suddenly seem so unutterably colourless and dreary? What had happened to her?
It was nearly eleven o’clock at night when she finally staggered in the door of her flat in Rose Bay, wanting only to crawl into her bed and die. To her annoyance she found Bea sitting on her sofa, eating popcorn and watching a video. With a gasp of outrage Laura dropped her bag, marched across to the remote control, turned off the video recorder, snatched the bowl of popcorn, took it out to the kitchen and emptied it into the garbage disposal, then stormed back to the front door and held it wide open.
‘Leave before I kill you!’ she snapped, pointing down the stairwell.
Bea’s eyes widened incredulously.
‘Laura, what’s the matter with you?’
‘I’ve just wrecked my entire life to please you, you selfish little fool, and all you can do is sit here and watch videos and drop popcorn all over my floor. Go away, will you? Just go away! And never, ever ask me to do anything for you again!’
With a bemused expression, Bea tossed one final kernel of popcorn into her mouth, licked her fingers, then craftily shut the front door and leaned against it.
‘Poor Laura,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Was it awful?’
‘It was hideous—absolutely hideous,’ seethed Laura.
‘Tell me about it,’ invited Bea, patting her soothingly on the shoulder.
‘No,’ snapped Laura, jerking away from her touch. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. And what are you doing here anyway? Haven’t you got a flat and a fiancé of your own? Or has Sam thrown you out? I don’t blame him if he has.’
Bea giggled.
‘Of course he hasn’t! Look, Laura, why don’t you take your shoes off and lie down on the sofa, and I’ll make you a cup of tea while you tell me what happened in Tasmania?’
Laura looked at Bea, assessing her chances of physically wrestling her out of the front door and pushing her down the stairs, and grumpily decided against it. With a haunted expression, she allowed Bea to lead her back into the sitting room. After two aspirin and a pot of Earl Grey tea, and with a rug over her legs and a pile of cushions at her back, her feeling of hysteria subsided slightly.
‘You’re a wretch, Bea,’ she grumbled. ‘But I suppose I’m stuck with you. What happened in court? Did you get what you deserve—a ninety-nine-year sentence with hard labour?’
Bea’s eyes danced.
‘Nope. I was acquitted. Sam got me a really good lawyer.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Laura sourly. ‘So what are you doing here?’
‘Well, I heard you were on your way home, so I came round to find out what had happened while you were away.’
‘What do you mean, you heard I was on my way home?’
‘Sam rang James this morning, hoping to talk to you, and all James said was that Bea was on her way back to Sydney. He sounded pretty shirty and he hung up before we could find out anything. We’re flying down there tomorrow, so I just wanted to know what we’re going to walk into.’
‘Did you say “flying”?’ echoed Laura in disbelief.
‘Yes, flying, but not on our own little wings, Laura,’ explained Bea patiently. ‘On a plane. The strike’s over now. Hadn’t you heard? It only lasted forty-eight hours.’
‘Forty-eight hours,’ groaned Laura. ‘Just long enough to ruin my life.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Nothing,’ said Laura hastily. Although Bea was very sweet and affectionate, there was no way she wanted to discuss her complicated feelings about James with her. Anyway, Bea had always thought she was completely calm and self-possessed, and Laura wanted her to go on thinking that. She couldn’t bear the humiliation of revealing what a fool she had been.
‘Listen,’ chirped Bea, ‘I’ve got a suggestion to make. Why don’t you take some more holiday leave from your job and fly back to Tasmania with us tomorrow?’
Laura almost leapt off the sofa in horror.
‘Go back to Tasmania? Are you crazy? Why should I?’
Bea flashed her a guilty smile.
‘So you can help me face the music with mean old Uncle James,’ she said coaxingly. ‘So we can own up together and tell him what bad girls we’ve been. Please, Laura.’
For once Bea’s mischievous charm left Laura totally unmoved. In fact, she felt as if a lump of lead had settled in the pit of her stomach.
‘No, Bea,’ she said soberly. ‘This time you’ve got to do it on your own, and you’d better do it soon. Because, unless I know for sure that you’ve told James the whole truth and made him promise to be polite to me at the wedding, I’m not even coming to it.’
Bea stared at her in horror.
‘Not come to my wedding? But, Laura, you’re my bridesmaid. You’re my sister. You’re my best friend. You’re the only person in the world I care about apart from Sam. You’ve got to come!’
Tears sprang into Bea’s eyes and her voice rang completely sincere, without the breathy little-girl undertones. For a moment Laura was tempted to weaken, then her outrage came to her aid.
‘I mean it, Bea,’ she warned. ‘Either you fix things up with Sam’s uncle, or I won’t be at the wedding.’
The next few days passed with agonising slowness for Laura. Pride wouldn’t allow her to telephone Bea in Tasmania, but she felt a mounting sense of desperation as time dragged by without any word from her sister. Had Bea owned up yet or not? Was James so angry that he had decided to boycott the wedding completely? She wished he would! Then she wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of meeting his eyes in the church and remembering how he had kissed her just to prove his own cynical theories about women.
She could have forgiven him if she had felt that love or even uncontrollable attraction had prompted his actions. But the knowledge that it had all been just a game to him made her writhe with embarrassment. She hated him—hated him! Not only for what he had done to her, but for his blind prejudice against Bea. It would be a miracle if his hostility to both of them didn’t blight the wedding completely.
As time dragged by, without any news, Laura found that she had trouble sleeping at night and that she couldn’t concentrate at work during the day. Even Raymond noticed her preoccupation, although he put it down to excitement over his proposal of marriage.
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