Alana

by Barrie, Monica

  Allison’s smile was predatory. “I have reports on my desk in New York indicating that South Africa may become one of the major countries of the world. Spotty reports of gold, but the geologists say that it is but surface findings–the frosting on the cake, so to speak.”

  “The consortium plans to diversify into mining?” the man asked, hiding his surprise.

  “There have been isolated discoveries of quality diamonds unlike any others. My sources believe that within the next five years, South Africa will become one of the richest countries in the world. Because of this information, I have just gotten several valuable shipping contracts with the largest exporter in Cape Town. I am also in the process of negotiating with a mining company.

  “In two more years, your share of the consortium will make you one of the richest men in the world. You, the others, and I will control not only the economy of the nation, but the politics and the people themselves! We will be in control of our world. We will be the economic rulers, far above those who seek to manipulate others merely through politics. We shall control the economy of America, and therefore the country itself: I from the East, you ruling over the South from Virginia to Louisiana, and those bumbling fools, Murdock and Caruthers, will help us control the West.”

  The man smiled conspiratorially at Allison. He noted the fanatical glint in James Allison’s eyes and–not for the first time since he had joined the consortium–realized the shipping magnate was insane. Yet this did not bother him, for he too had plans, and the consortium was a major part of them. To humor Allison–who could, after all, have him killed at any moment–the man added, “I will have everything under control, I guarantee you. Tell that to the others.”

  “I already have,” Allison said ominously.

  ~~~~~

  Seventeen miles from where James Allison and his companion sat, Alana stood on Riverbend’s small dock, beneath the full moon, staring at the calm surface of the Ashley River. A week had passed since Jason and Rafe had arrived at Riverbend, and her emotions had become more confused than ever.

  Above her, the stars spread out in a jeweled canopy, an umbrella of shimmering lights that should have made her feel at peace with herself, but they did not. An owl hooted from deep in the woods across the river. Crickets called to their mates, and the sounds of small animals echoed in the woods. Yet these familiar sounds gave her no comfort.

  The lazy creaking of the old wooden dock was a lullaby she’d heard all her life, but tonight it grated in her ears. A fish jumped toward the heavens, but she did not see its iridescent beauty; all she saw was a disruption of the smoothness of the Ashley’s surface.

  Alana closed her eyes, but the instant she did, memories rocketed through her mind. For the past week, her sleep had been troubled by a single, constantly repeated dream, a dream best not thought of. But the more she tried to ignore it, the more persistent it became.

  Not once before in her life had she ever dreamed of a man, much less dreamed of sharing her body with him and relishing every moment of it. Yet in this dream, she had given herself to Rafe Montgomery, and she had been glad.

  Standing in the cool night air, Alana felt her body reacting to the dream. The tips of her breasts grew rigid and rasped against the fabric of her bodice. A feeling deep within her, part ache, part need, called out to her. Subconsciously, she clamped her thighs together, doing her best to ease the ache spreading through her.

  The last seven days had been the longest of her life. She’d felt as though she were walking on eggshells, afraid of giving in to her emotions, and afraid of not giving in. The thought of spending the rest of her life caring for Jason was not one she wanted to dwell on, yet neither was the thought that Rafe would soon be gone from her life.

  After her confrontation with Rafe, Alana had scarcely slept. She had replayed their encounter again and again in her mind, and in the morning, her first thought had been of whether he had left as he had said he would, or if he’d remained. Alana did not know of Lorelei’s intervention, and she had gone downstairs with a heavy heart.

  When she had found Rafe below, drinking coffee as the sun rose, a wave of love-laced sadness had washed through her. Her heart had swelled at his presence, even as her mind spun in confusion. She had wondered how she could feel the way she did about Rafe when the man she was to marry was not twenty feet away.

  When they’d faced each other that day, she’d realized how dangerous their situation was. From that moment on, she’d done her best to avoid being alone with Rafe. And although his presence seemed to throw her into confusion, the knowledge that he was nearby also aided her ability to cope with Jason. Rafe treated her quite formally, and never spoke of what had happened that first night.

  The afternoon of Jason’s first day home, Alana had sat with him and planned their wedding. No matter what she’d suggested, he had agreed–and had constantly declared that he would not hold Alana to this wedding.

  Each time he’d offered her escape, the conviction behind his words had dwindled until she knew he was but mouthing them. No, Alana could not leave him in his time of need, as he had not left her.

  But after a week of being near Rafe, there was no doubt in Alana’s mind that she had found the man she loved and had given him her heart, although she could not tell him so.

  During the endlessly long hours of each day, she and Rafe had been players in a tense game. When he was near, she was conscious of the way her hands trembled as she fought not to touch him. When they walked side by side in the garden, she never once let her hand accidentally brush his, although she could feel the heat of his body near hers.

  Whenever she dropped her guard and raised her eyes to look at him, her head grew light and her body heavy with desire–desire that directed even her dreaming thoughts in a way that shocked her, embarrassed her, and made her half-insane with an impossible longing for him. She would wake in the morning, her breasts swollen, her stomach knotted, and her loins aching. At those times, Alana made herself think of Jason, lying helpless in the library. She vowed to be a proper wife to him–although they could never be lovers.

  Facing the truth boldly, Alana accepted the fact that once she had wed Jason, her body would never know another’s. Jason would never father children, and her womb would never fill with life. Her breasts would never know the hungry mouth of a child.

  “Dear God, make me strong,” she pleaded as her eyes searched the heavens. No tears spilled onto her cheeks, and none had fallen since she’d fled the salon after pleading with Rafe to stay. She would not allow any weakness to overcome her and take her from the path she must walk.

  ~~~~~

  Rafe paced the confines of the study, the glass of whiskey in his hand forgotten as he tried to calm his thoughts. He had hoped to be gone by the end of the week, but the pastor had sent word that it would be at least two weeks before he would be able to hold the wedding service.

  Two weeks, he thought grimly, two weeks of torture and denial. he shook his head—it would fourteen days that would have to last a lifetime.

  Rafe stopped walking and shook his head in amazement. Rafe Montgomery, the most eligible bachelor in San Francisco, the man who had always had his pick of women, and the man who had always left them behind, was in love with the one woman he could never have.

  Putting his glass down, he left the study and stepped outside onto the terrace, which faced the river. The restless energy that had constantly dogged him would not subside. Leaving the terrace, he walked along the path that led to the river.

  When he stood on the center of the wooden overpass that bridged the series of rice fields, he paused. The light of the full moon lit the land around him, and he saw, not thirty feet ahead on the old receiving dock, Alana’s silhouette.

  Go back, he cautioned himself even as he started to cross the distance that separated them. When he reached the dock, he stopped. His eyes roamed Alana’s form, coming to rest upon her profile. She was looking up at the stars, and he could not bring himself to sp
eak.

  Her skin glowed soft silver in the moonlight. He saw lines of tension near her eyes, and his heart went out to her.

  And illuminated by the silvery light, Rafe suddenly realized the duality that was Alana. Just beneath the surface, there was another Alana, a woman waiting to be set free from the bonds that held her back.

  Then he knew why she was different from other women and, not for the first time, Rafe wondered why Alana could not see herself as others saw her.

  So Rafe marveled at her beauty for her, because he knew she did not see it herself. Perhaps her naïveté even enhanced her beauty. Rafe knew that Alana was one of those rare women who possessed the ability to make men not only desire her but push themselves to any length to satisfy their desire.

  When he could stay still no longer, he stepped onto the dock and called her name. He saw her stiffen, and then saw her hands release the wood railing.

  Alana turned to face Rafe, her heart racing. She saw the strain on his features and smiled sadly. “It is hard for you,” she whispered, longing to touch his face but unwilling to risk it for fear she would lose her resolve.

  “I will survive,” he said dryly but not without emotion.

  “I know you will. We both will.”

  Rafe walked past her and leaned on the railing. He looked across the river at the dark shadows of the trees. “Tell me how you managed to keep Riverbend whole during the war.”

  “It was something I had to do,” she said simply.

  Rafe turned on her, his eyes narrow and piercing. “Like marrying Jason?”

  Alana held her ground, her tone flat. “Yes, like marrying Jason.”

  Rafe stepped close to her, his eyes never leaving her face. His arms went around her and drew her to him. He could feel the heat of her breasts branding him. When Alana did not pull away, he lowered his mouth to her warm lips.

  This kiss, unlike their first, was soft and gentle. When it ended and Rafe drew back, he saw passion flooding Alana’s eyes.

  Before he could kiss her again, Alana pulled free. “No more,” she pleaded. “I cannot think when you do that. I cannot stop myself from giving in to you.”

  “And you want me to prevent that for you?” he asked in a tightly controlled voice.

  “You must,” she said.

  “When I’m with you, it takes all my willpower not to touch you, not to pull you to me and make love to you. And knowing that you want me, how can you ask me not to take you?”

  “Because you’re strong, Rafe, stronger than I.”

  “You love me Alana, even though you won’t speak the words; I can see it on your face and in your eyes.”

  Alana felt as if she were trapped. She wanted to shout her love to the heavens, but she could not. Instead, she asked, “How could I carry that shame into my marriage?”

  “How can you live knowing that you did not take happiness when it was offered?” he challenged in return. “Alana, I have stayed because of you. I am living every day as if it were my last. I find it impossible not to hold you next to me, not to feel the softness of your breasts upon me. You ask a lot of one man.”

  “Only because I know the man and know what he is capable of doing,” she said. Her hand, no longer obeying her mind, rose to his face. She traced the deeply etched grooves that framed his full mouth and then let her fingertips brush across his lips.

  “Because I love you and would see you until I no longer may. You have my heart, Rafe–is that not enough?”

  “It will never be enough! Only having you at my side, in my bed, waking when I do, laughing with me, living with me, and raising our children together will be enough–and perhaps not even that will be enough,” he whispered truthfully.

  Alana’s fingers shook. She clasped her hands together before her and looked across the water. When she spoke, her voice faltered, but she didn’t care.

  “Until a…a week ago, I did not know what love could really mean.” She stopped then, her mouth dry, her throat trying to prevent the words from coming out. “I–Rafe, I must be satisfied with that knowledge only, for anything else would be a betrayal.”

  Rafe studied Alana’s face, then reached out and grasped her hands. She lifted her eyes to him.

  “You forget how much I know about you, Alana. There were too many nights in prison that Jason and I spent talking of you–or should I say that Jason talked and I listened.”

  Rafe took a deep breath. “All your life has been spent fulfilling obligations put upon you. The first was to your mother, to protect Riverbend. Then you had to care for your father until he walked out on you. And when Jason asked you to marry him, you accepted because of your obligation to him and to Riverbend, did you not?”

  “Still,” Alana said, freeing her hands, pulling her shoulders straight and arching her neck proudly in the face of Rafe’s truths, “I will marry him.”

  “What about you, Alana? What about your obligation to yourself? Is your entire life to be lived for others? You’re not some old woman who has no other purpose in life than to play nursemaid. You’re young, alive, and the most vital woman, the most beautiful woman I have ever known. You have passions within you that will destroy you if they aren’t released. You have needs, Alana, strong needs. If you didn’t, you would not have asked me to stay.”

  Rafe stared into the pools of her eyes. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and a vein in her neck throbbed visibly in the moonlight.

  “You don’t know everything, Rafael Montgomery; if you did, you would know that I cannot change what must be, nor can I betray the man who has given me so much in my times of need.”

  “You talk of betrayal, Alana, and you are right. It doesn’t take the powers of a god to see into your heart, it takes the power of a lover. I can see, even if you won’t, that no matter what you do, you will betray someone. And, that someone might be you. Think about it, my love.” Releasing her suddenly, he stepped around her and disappeared into the blackness of the night.

  6

  As her wedding day drew near, Alana found herself busier than she ever before. She had delegated all responsibility for the wedding banquet to Lorelei, who she knew was more than capable of handling it.

  To Ben she issued instructions for constructing and setting up the tables and seats for the guests. She had also told Ben to open the long been closed guest wing of Riverbend, for those people who would be arriving from Charleston the day before the wedding.

  The wedding itself and the celebration after would be held on the north lawn, adjacent to the gardens. And although the expenses were high, and Alana knew she would have to sell the remainder of her jewelry, she did not mind, for she believed that a large social gathering might help Jason recover some of his lost spirit.

  While the field hands worked in the north lawn, every morning for three days Alana had stood impatiently while the seamstress refitted her mother’s wedding gown to her. After that, she had spent another hour sitting with Jason to discuss the plantation and his shipping business.

  At first, Jason had resisted her efforts to get him involved again and had refused to advise her on business matters. Patiently, she had been able to draw him, albeit reluctantly, into the problems they faced under the harsh economic changes that now ruled the South. The moment she was finished, however, he would retreat into the drug-induced stupor that Alana had come to know so well.

  After the fittings and her meetings with Jason, along with whatever else happened to interfere with her regular routine, she, Jason, and Rafe would sit down for lunch.

  By that time, Alana could no longer stay in the house. She would change into her work clothes–a pair of men’s riding pants and a white cotton shirt–and ride across the plantation, checking on everything and breathing the scents of freedom and life.

  Today, like the days before it, Alana rode through the fields, forcing herself to do whatever was necessary to keep her mind free from thoughts of Rafe and of the life she would never have with him. Yearning for Rafe filled her heart, mak
ing it swell with love whenever she looked at him, but she could not allow herself to give in to her desires.

  “Better to not know his touch than to feel it once and never again,” she said again to herself. But she knew that when night fell and the heavy perfume of fall flowers bathed the air, her body would again tremble with unfulfilled desire, and her passions, so long dormant, would rise up to taunt her mercilessly.

  “Three more days,” she whispered to the air.

  Reining in her horse, Alana looked about. She was at the southern edge of Riverbend, which was the joining of her land and Jason Landow’s. In the distance, she saw the burned-out shell of his old plantation house, and again she felt the deep loss within her soul.

  Alana knew that in time she and Jason would reclaim the lands, long gone to weed, and cultivate them as they had been cultivated for over a hundred years.

  Sighing, Alana started toward the ruins.

  ~~~~~

  “I think you look rather elegant,” Rafe said as he studied Jason in the gray uniform of an infantry officer.

  Jason glared at him, his eyes not as glazed as usual. “The war is over; this army no longer exists,” he said tersely, flicking his fingers across the brass buttons of the jacket.

  “Does that make you any less an officer who served bravely for his cause?” Rafe asked sharply, refusing to listen to any more of Jason’s ill-tempered remarks.

  Each day found Rafe more raw-edged than ever. His one vain hope was that Jason would begin to return to life instead of running away from it–for if he did, Rafe could leave with the knowledge that Alana’s life might not be completely ruined.

  Silence fell between the two men. The seamstress removed the jacket, being careful not to prick Jason with any of the needles. Then she went over to Rafe and put on the jacket she had made for him to wear for the ceremony.

  As she worked, Rafe studied Jason. There were many things he wanted to say, but not until they were alone. When the seamstress finished and withdrew from the library, Rafe stepped close to the man in the wheeled chair. He spoke in a low voice, but the power behind his words cut through Jason’s barriers.