Rapture

by Sonia Icilyn

  It was. Ten minutes later, Avril was in Dale Lambert’s car.

  Chapter 9

  Her feelings were at schizophrenic proportions.

  As the car made a steady cruise toward Dulwich Village, Avril’s adrenaline level grew. “Aren’t you going to say anything about tonight?” she finally inquired.

  Dale glanced across at her. “Should I?”

  “Well, you were right,” Avril taunted, even though it was an emotive reaction at the time. “I made a complete fool of myself wanting retribution.”

  “It’s over now, isn’t it?” Dale shrugged, hoping she’d worked the scorn out of her system. “There’s no need for me to mention it, is there?”

  “No,” Avril conceded, as a sickly feeling of nausea rose up to torment her. Meyrick had not been the collaborative person she’d thought she could rely on. Rightfully, he had been more of a nightmare like his brother.

  “Antonio got his job back, you don’t owe the Armstrongs any money, certainly not another moment of your time. They know about Maxwell’s baby and you’ve shouldered the worst that could have happened, seeing them all again after your wedding fiasco,” Dale summarized.

  Fiasco! It had definitely been that. “Yes, it’s done,” Avril readily agreed.

  “In addition,” Dale added, softly. “You got your revenge by having Maxwell believe that I’m your boyfriend.”

  “You did that,” Avril reminded swiftly. “I wanted to use his brother.”

  “Meyrick!” Dale recalled seeing them together in the banqueting suite. “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing worth repeating,” Avril whimpered. Her head dropped. When Dale remained silent, she blurted out the truth. “It was an abomination. In fact, Meyrick thought nothing of Maxwell’s cowardly conduct at all and Georgie wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t figure why because I always got along with him.”

  “They slighted you,” Dale surmised knowingly. “That’s the best you’re going to get. And Meyrick will never appreciate you.”

  Hadn’t her own brother made that very warning! Suddenly, Avril felt the tears threaten at the back of her eyes. “I’ve been stupid, haven’t I?” she conceded, looking back at her futile girlish behavior. “I don’t know what I was thinking imagining I could teach Maxwell Armstrong a lesson with his own brother.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Dale queried, keeping his eyes on the road, his voice confused. “You got your revenge and—”

  “Lynfa Armstrong is fighting a battle to get Maxwell to accept his own son,” Avril declared solemnly. “Nothing I did, or attempted to do should’ve interfered with that. I should’ve listened to you and let it go.”

  “I don’t know why you’re taking the blame for Maxwell’s inability to be a father to his child,” Dale drawled.

  “If it hadn’t have been for me,” Avril protested. “Then—”

  “What?” Dale prodded with concern.

  When Avril’s head fell in silence, Dale pulled his car to the curb and cut the engine. “Avril.” He pulled a strand of hair away from her face. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He released her seat belt and then his own. “Come here.”

  Avril was trembling with emotion when Dale reached out and pulled her into a tender hug. “I feel pathetic,” she cried.

  “No, you’re not pathetic,” Dale whispered, then touched the tears on her cheek with his lips. “A woman maybe, but never pitiful.”

  Avril succumbed to his gentleness. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Can I stay in your spare room?”

  His voice, barely audible and tinged with its mild accent and gravelly tone, rubbed gently against her senses. “You can stay with me,” Dale suggested.

  Avril looked up into his eyes and immediately melted into their chocolate-brown depth. “Yes,” she answered, trusting the strong gaze that seared her.

  Then his mouth fastened on hers.

  It wasn’t about trying to reach his heart. Avril had decided she was never going to try that again with any man. When she jumped into Dale Lambert’s bed, it was to regain her womanhood. The one that had been momentarily lost when she found herself running out of church on her wedding day, a spinster, leaving the groom who had sired a secret child at the altar.

  “We don’t have to do anything,” Dale whispered hoarsely in Avril’s mouth, even as her lips participated in a heated kiss that spoke of her female desire for him.

  “I know,” Avril returned on an intake of air. “You wouldn’t have any respect for me if we did, would you?”

  Dale chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  Avril giggled at his candor. “We’ll wait.”

  “Until we’re ready,” Dale agreed, taking her lips again.

  The kiss was good and that was enough. It was all they both needed for the night, to share a bed and sleep in each other’s arms.

  Avril snuggled into Dale’s shoulder and felt her body relax. Bare down to his underpants, Dale’s muscled arms and chest radiated a warmth that made her nerve endings thrill at the contact. In her silky underwear, she was everything feminine in his masculine embrace.

  “Feel better now?” Dale asked as he cuddled her into him.

  “Yes,” Avril breathed, contented. Beneath layers of cream-colored Egyptian cotton sheets, the king-sized bed was more than comfortable. “This is the first time in weeks that I’ve been in one place where nobody can heckle me.”

  “Who could possibly be hounding you in your apartment?” Dale questioned curiously.

  “I live at home with my mom and Lennie, and my brother Antonio in the bedroom next door,” Avril replied soberly. “Since Elonwy leaving, he refuses to stay at his house.”

  Dale turned his head. He glimpsed the nut-brown color of Avril’s eyes in the flicker of the lighted candle on the bed stand and felt his ego rise that she was sharing his bed. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Those very eyes danced at him. “No,” Avril said, truthfully. “Although my brother is hoping to move back into his house now that he’s in open negotiations with his estranged wife.”

  “They’re talking?” Dale queried, raising his head from the pillow.

  Avril felt his body react to the statement. “Tony’s meeting her tomorrow,” she expanded on a smile. “I’m so happy that they’re finally going to get back together again.”

  “Of course,” Dale accepted, lowering his head. “Why did he leave his own house? Is his wife still living there?”

  “Elonwy—that’s her name,” Avril began, “is staying with a friend in Streatham, south London and Tony didn’t want to be alone. So he moved in with Mom.”

  “And you?” Dale probed further.

  The past few weeks loomed like a bad smell. “I used to have a small studio apartment,” she continued, “but gave that up when I got engaged to Maxwell. He asked me to move into his waterfront apartment and like an idiot…” She paused, sorrowful of how her life had turned out. “I moved in.”

  Dale squeezed her tight, empathizing with her sadness.

  “I plan to leave my mom’s home by Fall,” Avril added quickly. “Now that Reuben Meyer has offered me a job, I can start looking.”

  “A job!” Dale repeated surprised. “When did this happen?”

  “Tonight,” Avril disclosed happily. “We’d discussed it, but now it’s official. I start on Monday.”

  “Doing what?”

  “It’ll be something relating to the community I expect,” Avril replied, unworried. “Perhaps in relation to my role as Miss African-Caribbean.”

  “That would be good for you,” Dale reasoned, expelling a small yawn. “If you need me to take a look at your employment contract, or offer any advice, just let me know.”

  “I’ll be sure to inform you of my new status,” Avril teased, sneaking her hand into his hair where she gently stroked against the short twisted dreadlocks with her fingers. “Then you can take full custody of my new role in life.”

  Dale wanted more than that. He fancied the idea
of taking full custody of Avril’s heart, too, and was chagrined when he spoke without thinking. “Why don’t you live here?”

  Avril’s eyes widened. “In your house?” She laughed, refusing to take his offer seriously. “That’s not an option.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to be beholden to you,” she proclaimed in the manner of a single woman. “Besides, Elyse lives here.”

  “She leaves in two days,” Dale reminded.

  “I can’t,” Avril protested, listlessly.

  Dale propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes trained on her. “Think about it,” he encouraged on a serious note. “You’ll not be under your mother’s feet and it’ll be far cheaper than paying rent somewhere else subject to your salary.”

  He was beginning to sound like a lawyer and Avril felt herself resisting. “You hardly know me.”

  “Nor you me,” Dale reminded, “but it hasn’t stopped us from sharing a bed tonight.”

  “We’re two consenting adults,” Avril said, peeved at the suggestion.

  “And we can consent to living together,” Dale challenged. “I’ll even draw up a contract to protect your interests under my roof and limit me from throwing you out.”

  But Avril wanted out of the conversation. She was too tired to discuss the issue. “I’ll sleep on it,” she prevaricated. “Lend me some thinking time.”

  “Don’t take too long,” Dale sighed, sensing her departure from the discussion. He pulled back, amazed at how overpowering he’d been. “There’s no pressure.”

  Relieved, Avril smiled at his cool consideration of her feelings. She leaned forward and kissed his lips. “I’ll let you know, okay?” she said, but her voice was a groan filled with passion, and it startled her.

  Dale readily accepted. “Okay.” There was a thickness in his voice as he pulled her close.

  Their lips met. Dale feathered Avril’s face with kisses, dropping a caress on her cheeks, her heavy eyelids, the little hollow at her throat. The press of his flesh against her loins held the promise of pleasure. An oath she felt sure Dale was eager to give her at a time when they were both ready to pledge their bodies to each other.

  Dale traced the lines of her underwear, tugging gently at the silky fabric between his fingers. He was teasing her with his delving hands. Avril was trustful that Dale was not going to stray beyond the fine lace that tickled his fingers, even as she reveled in the exploratory motion of each touch.

  Her thumb played a soft massage amid the tangles of his twisted locks of hair. The other hand described the flat of his golden-brown belly where a tiny pouch indicated his burgeoning age. Avril’s curiosity rose as violent as the desire building inside her.

  “Dale,” she moaned as he pulled her closer still. “How old are you?”

  He stopped the love play for one agonizing second. “Thirty-two,” he breathed heavily against her earlobe. “Why?”

  “Why me?” Avril countered, writhing beneath the soft strokes of his fingers.

  Dale halted the physical survey. He sat up and scanned her face carefully. “What do you mean?”

  Avril smothered a tremor of fear. “Nothing.”

  “No,” Dale sighed, refusing to drop the hiatus. “What is it?”

  It was that old Achilles’ heel—the typical question that plagued every woman when faced with a man who could potentially mean something to her. Where was it all going?

  Impulsively, Avril reached over and kissed Dale on his cheek, afraid that she was about to dangerously tread into uncharted territory. Moreover, the last time she’d strayed into this arena and asked a man that immortal question, he’d proposed marriage and she’d foolishly accepted. She had no intention of prompting Dale Lambert into saying anything premature.

  “I’m still a little edgy,” she apologized. “Recent events, you know and all that jazz.”

  But Dale tapped into her thoughts with shaking accuracy. “You’re wondering if I keep relationships with one woman or have several seductresses at my beck and call?”

  “Do you?” Avril couldn’t resist asking.

  Dale shrugged. “It’s been awhile with work and my career,” he admitted honestly. “But I’d be a liar if I were to tell you I’d been a complete angel.”

  “So you’ve hurt women in the past?” Avril inquired.

  “At least two,” Dale confessed.

  Avril delved in selfishly, reminding herself of that old adage that a woman should always seek out the reasons for the breakdown of a man’s previous relationships. “What happened?”

  Dale chuckled. “Am I about to be grilled?”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Avril said with pretense, though every part of her yearned to know the truth.

  Dale sank his head against the pillow and turned to lie on his back. Looking up at the ceiling, he considered his words carefully. “She was called Ionie,” he said, throwing his hands behind his head. “I dated her while I went to Yale and saw her on vacations. I thought I was in love with her, but after I graduated she began to irritate me. She kept bulldozing me with plans that I had no intention of becoming involved in.”

  “Like what?” Avril inquired, stifling a yawn.

  “Buying an apartment, which we couldn’t afford,” he began, “and forcing me into traveling to places I didn’t care to see. Once, she booked a weekend trip to Atlantic City when she knew that I have no interests in gambling.”

  “So she was an American?” Avril surmised.

  Dale nodded. “After Yale, we shared a basement apartment close to my parents’ house in Orlando,” he explained. “That made it difficult, because my folks got to know her quite well.”

  Avril was intrigued. “How did it end?”

  “I woke up one morning and realized that I was wasting her time,” Dale shrugged, almost carelessly. “I didn’t love her, it was that simple. She was just a convenience, someone I got used to.”

  “You ended it?”

  He flinched. “She took it badly. She let down the tires of my car, which wasn’t worth much, but cost me a handful in dollars to repair. Bad-mouthed me to her girlfriends, telephoned my folks and complained to my boss. It was my first job right after Yale and I lost it.”

  “On account of what happened?” Avril asked, shocked.

  “She was one sour, cranky woman,” Dale bristled. “I wasted no time leaving her or Florida and went straight to New York. It was great. I stayed with a cousin in Queens and got a job within two weeks. Then I met Tamia at a club in downtown Manhattan. She was a high-powered businesswoman, nothing like Ionie. I liked her head. She was hot and savvy.”

  “What happened then?” Avril hurried him along, detecting a tinge of jealousy.

  “I dated her for a year and a half,” he said, “then decided she was too much for me.”

  Her brows rose. “Really?”

  “She was too demanding,” Dale continued, almost on a chuckle. “What can I say. The woman worked until ten at night as a public relations consultant and was up at six every morning. I was an optional requirement slotted into her diary when she found time to fit me in. Then she expected me to jump through her hoops.”

  “What kind of hoops?”

  “Cocktails until midnight with her high-profile acquaintances for more shoptalk, a party until two. By three in the morning, she wouldn’t let me sleep. My energy reserves plummeted.”

  “Then what happened?” Avril queried, suppressing a chuckle.

  “One night, she told me she loved me,” Dale divulged suddenly.

  Avril caught her breath. “And you?”

  “I didn’t feel anything for her,” Dale sighed heavily. “If anything, I used her aimlessly to pull in clients for the law firm I was with. She was an asset. A very good one.”

  “But deep down, you felt intimidated by her,” Avril added for consumption.

  Dale considered. “Maybe.”

  “How did she take it when you told her the truth?” she asked.

  “She slappe
d me, good and proper,” Dale disclosed shamefully. “She called me a time waster and a whole heap of other things.”

  “Did you deserve them?”

  “Some,” he yawned.

  “And now?”

  “I’m making a conscious effort to stay aware because I now know women see things differently,” Dale declared. “I’ve behaved immaturely in the past and I’ll put my hand up to that. But if I fall into another relationship, I’d like to think that I’m in it for the long haul. Maybe I’ll get married one day, maybe I won’t. Who knows? All I know is, I don’t want to hurt nobody.”

  It was an honest appraisal of his actions.

  Avril snuggled into his chest, feeling sleepy. “Has there been anyone serious since you came back to live in England?” she questioned.

  “No,” Dale replied, closing his eyes. “I nearly got into something with Philippa Fearne, my business partner, but that never happened. She met someone else.”

  Avril closed her eyes. “Is she happy?”

  Dale raised his head slightly and blew out the candle. “She’s very happy,” he slurred. “They’ve just had a wonderful vacation.”

  The candle smoldered in the dark and died a natural death to the sound of two people snoozing.

  Avril awoke the following morning and found herself in an empty bed. She did not worry. She’d already sensed Dale’s movements earlier and knew he’d left the room in all likelihood to make breakfast.

  A little muzzy-headed, she sat up and inventoried her surroundings—the closed curtains, high ceiling embedded with spotlights, furniture of pine and maple, the flat-screen television suspended on the wall facing her among magnificent paintings by Ernest Watson—then moved on to Dale’s white shirt she’d removed from his body the night before.

  She slipped out of bed, peeled it from the back of the chair where it was hanging uncreased and plunged her arms into it. Avril marveled at the long sleeves that instantly swallowed her and were testimony to Dale’s height before fastening three buttons. Knowing that her hair was disheveled, she opened the bedroom door and went in search of the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later, Avril had washed and toweled her face, restored some order to her hair by removing the hair clips that held it in place and finger combed clumps and strands until it dangled around her earlobes and neck. Finally she ventured to find Dale. There were voices echoing from the kitchen when she found herself standing outside the door. Avril listened rapt as each word drummed softly against her ears.