by Penny Jordan
By lunch-time she was packed and waiting. Joel arrived an hour later, looking as grim and uncompromising as ever. Cassie hugged Miranda warmly, tearful now that the moment of parting had come.
‘Remember,’ Miranda whispered to her, ‘whatever happens, there’ll always be a bond between us, Cassie. After all we both love the same person don’t we?’
Joel had loaded her cases into the car while Cassie said her goodbyes, with a brief nod to his mother he helped Cassie into the car.
‘Why the woebegone face,’ he demanded as he drove away. ‘Missing your Italian Romeo already are you?’
Cassie knew he meant Bernardo but she said nothing, simply firming her lips and staring resolutely out of her window.
The flight back to Heathrow was uneventful, and apart from feeling rather tired, Cassie felt no other emotions about returning to her native soil.
She had half expected Joel to make some excuse to remain in London while she returned to the house, but he did not.
It was late evening before they reached Howard Court. Exhausted by a full day’s travelling Cassie noticed blearily as she stepped into the hall that the decorators had finished and that the room now glowed softly as it must have done in the days when Miranda was mistress, but all she really wanted to do was to have a warm bath and go to bed. Time enough to inspect the house in the morning. A little to her surprise Joel had announced that the cocktail party was to be held here and not in London. That was something else she would have to sort out, she thought wearily, walking upstairs, but fortunately she felt more than equal to that task now, after staying with Miranda.
‘Cassie.’
Joel’s cool voice halted her progress upstairs. She turned, and frowned down at him.
‘Fancy a nightcap?’
Cassie shook her head, telling herself she must be imagining the brief look of disappointment that crossed his face. A trick of the light no doubt she reflected tiredly as she walked into her room. Joel had no desire for her company; no desire for her full-stop.
In the morning he had gone. Cassie found a note from him in the kitchen explaining that he was needed in London and that his secretary would be in touch with her with a prospective guest list for the party.
The decorators had more than lived up to their reputation, and the soft furnishings and carpets glowed softly after their cleaning. Before she left Italy Miranda had given her several messages for Mary Jensen and Cassie decided to walk down to the vicarage to pass them on.
Mary smiled her pleasure when she opened the door to Cassie. ‘My goodness you do look well,’ she pronounced, ‘and so very pretty.’
‘Miranda’s work,’ Cassie told her ruefully, ‘she’s been polishing me up. I’m afraid in this case my “beauty” is definitely only a surface gloss.’
‘Nonsense,’ Mary told her stoutly, ‘I thought myself what an attractive girl you could be if you only took a little trouble. You’ve far too low an opinion of yourself Cassie. Now come and tell me all about Miranda,’ she invited, ‘and about Italy.’
It was over an hour before Cassie left, and she let herself back into the house to find the ‘phone ringing imperiously. She picked up the receiver and found Joel’s secretary on the other end of the line.
Her purpose in ringing was to discuss the cocktail party which was to be held in a fortnight’s time, and Cassie, who had previously found herself rather in awe of her, was surprised how easy she found it to discuss the relative merits of respective caterers.
‘Joel normally uses a Mayfair firm,’ his secretary told her, ‘but perhaps you…’ She paused tactfully, and Cassie hastily assured her that she had no personal preferences, ‘Although I should like to see sample menus,’ she told her.
Whether it was because she now had more self-confidence herself she did not know but Cassie found the girl far more responsive and pleasant to her. She promised to send Cassie a list of the invitees and they arranged that Cassie would go up to London in person as soon as it could be arranged so that they could go through the organisation together.
The rest of the day seemed to be spent in organising flowers and drink, in making arrangements for Mrs Pollit to work on the day of the party. She must also check to see how many people would want accommodation overnight, Cassie reflected, making a list as she went along.
It was evening before she managed to find any time to spend on her own work, but it was hard to concentrate when with every breath she was listening for sounds of Joel’s return.
It was late when he did come back. Cassie was already in bed. She lay tensely against the mattress listening to the sounds of him moving about. She fell asleep before he came upstairs and in the morning when she got up he had gone again. So much for his mother’s hopes, she thought a little bitterly, only admitting to herself then how much she had hoped that her transformed appearance would elicit a response from him. But then Joel was used to attractive, even beautiful women, and he knew what she was like beneath the surface gloss Miranda had applied. It was hardly to be expected that he would want her, she told herself. The only time they actually met as equals was when they talked about their respective businesses. She found Joel’s work especially fascinating and liked the fact that he talked to her about it as he would have done to any knowledgeable colleague. It was their only common ground Cassie thought sadly as she worked on her own project, hardly the basis for building a marriage on. But then Joel didn’t want to build their marriage; he didn’t want to be married to her at all.
She had just managed to dam her destructively depressing thoughts and concentrate on her work when she heard a car coming up the drive. A glance at her watch showed her that it was much later than she had realised, but still early for Joel to be returning home. She walked into the hall at the same moment he unlocked the front door, and Cassie was shocked by the white pallor of his face.
She started to speak but fell silent as he told her curtly, ‘Migraine…don’t fuss. I’ve got some pills upstairs…’
Cassie’s father had suffered the curse of migraine and she well knew how Joel must be feeling.
While he went upstairs she hurried into the kitchen to make him a drink, freezing as she heard a crash from upstairs.
She found him in the bathroom off his bedroom, leaning against the basin, tiny shards of glass all around him. His skin looked like putty, his eyes for once drained of all colour, almost black.
‘It’s only the water glass,’ he told her, spacing the words carefully as though even to speak caused him the most unendurable agony. ‘Leave it, I’ll…’
‘You’ll go and lie down,’ Cassie told him firmly, taking command. ‘Are these your pills?’ She picked up the small bottle beside the basin, and Joel nodded.
Quickly reading the instructions Cassie shook out two and handed them to him, watching him grimace as he swallowed them quickly.
‘Go and lie down,’ she repeated, ‘I’m just making you a hot drink. I’ll clear this up when I come back.’
She was gone about five minutes and half expected to find Joel asleep when she returned, because the tablets he had been prescribed were strong ones, but when she walked into his bedroom he was lying on the bed, his eyes closed and his body tense.
Automatically Cassie closed the curtains, seeing him shudder as a ray of evening sunshine fell across his closed eyes.
‘Try and drink this,’ she urged him sitting down beside him and automatically helping him to lift his head. ‘It will make the tablets work faster.’
‘You seem to know a lot about it?’ His voice was slurred, more by the pain than anything else, Cassie suspected, studying the pupils of his eyes.
‘My father suffered from migraine. The only thing that seemed to help was a neck massage. It seemed to relieve a lot of the tension…’ a thought struck her. ‘Would you like me to see if it will work for you?’
‘Anything to get rid of this damned pain,’ Joel grunted. ‘It started just after lunch. I should have stopped then, but I had too much to
do.’
‘You should have stayed in London instead of driving home,’ Cassie scolded, deftly unfastening his tie and slipping the top buttons of his shirt free, before gently pushing him back on to the bed.
‘Perhaps I wanted to get home to the loving ministrations of my wife,’ she thought she heard him say, but his words were muffled slightly by the pillow and in any case she was concentrating on easing his shirt away from the back of his neck without exacerbating the pain.
‘Take the damn thing off.’ This time there was no mistaking his demand. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow, his face even paler than it had been before. She could see the pain darkening his eyes and didn’t waste time talking, simply quickly unfastening the remaining shirt buttons, and tugging it free of his trousers as gently as she could, before easing it off his body.
The moment she had it free he flopped back against the mattress. Cassie had performed this task many times for her father when he had been suffering from the same complaint, but the curious dryness in her throat reminded her that this was not her father lying in front of her; that the sunbronzed sleekly muscled back and dark thick hair did not belong to her parent but to the man she loved. Steeling herself not to betray her feelings Cassie flexed her fingers and reached out across the bed. Because of its width it strained her back to reach so far, and slipping off her shoes she climbed on to the mattress kneeling beside Joel.
He gave no sign of being aware of her presence, his breathing sharp and shallow as though even that pained him. Flexing her fingers again, and forcing herself to empty her mind of everything other than his pain Cassie stroked her fingers along the line of his collar bone, thumbs investigating the flesh of his back, searching for tension points. The betraying hard lump just below his neck told its own story and she started to massage it slowly, knowing it had been caused by tension; the same tension that was no doubt responsible for his present headache.
For several minutes there were no sounds in the room other than those of their mingled breathing, Joel’s slightly deeper and more relaxed now and conversely her own more shallow, betraying the effect touching him was having on her senses.
Her fingers stroked their way up his neck finding and soothing the tensely corded muscles, experience making it possible for her to continue her task without giving in to the insidious pull of her senses.
She paused once, feeling herself shake with tension, using as an excuse the drink she had made for him. He drank it obediently, the pupils of his eyes slightly enlarged. The drug must be starting to take effect Cassie decided as he flopped back against the bed.
This time when her fingers touched his skin Cassie could feel the tension easing away, his breathing was more relaxed, and she felt the corded muscles respond to her touch.
‘No, don’t stop,’ Joel demanded thickly when she moved away slightly flexing her tense spine. ‘It feels good.’
She doubted that he knew what he was saying, but it gave her the excuse she needed to let her hands explore the firm contours of his back, an exploration that was pure self indulgence—and dangerous with it, she chided herself as his breathing deepened and he gave a small groan of pleasure as she stroked the tension from his spine. His skin was warm, faintly moist, his muscles supple, and she ached with a tension she knew had nothing to do with over-work. She loved him so much Cassie acknowledged, shivering under the impact of the admission, and yet every ounce of logic she possessed warned her of the dangers of allowing herself to love anyone, never mind someone who was so obviously indifferent to her. Her fingers stilled and she started to move away. Joel turned over, his eyes closed, his skin no longer quite as pale. Fine dark hairs patterned his chest, arrowing downwards over his flat stomach. Her heart flipped over and formed a hard lump in her chest, longing and anguish mingling in a wave of intense pain. His fingers curled round her wrist as she sat back on her heels without touching him, his eyes still closed as he murmured blurrily, ‘Stay with me…I want you to stay with me…’
He didn’t want her at all of course. Cassie doubted that he even knew who she was. What he wanted was the comfort her skilled fingers had transmitted to his tense body, and his tired, drug-hazed mind confused that need with something totally different, but as his fingers closed tightly round her wrist, Cassie found herself giving in to the pressure he was exerting and allowing herself to be pulled down to lie alongside him on the double bed. Stiff and tense, her breathing spasmodic and jerky, it seemed to cease altogether when Joel’s arms curled round her, welding her to his side, his head burrowing against her breasts and pillowing itself there.
Through the thin stuff of her blouse she could feel his breath warming her skin. His arm was wrapped round her waist, and as he tugged her downwards her skirt had wrapped itself round her thighs. Its button fastening dug painfully into her side. Cassie lay still for a few seconds telling herself she would move once Joel was properly asleep but when she eventually did try to move she found that it was impossible. The weight of his head against her breasts pinned her to the bed, and she couldn’t move without disturbing him. His arm held her tightly against him and as she made a tentative movement to dislodge it he muttered protestingly in his sleep, tightening his hold on her.
Her skin tingled from the heat of his breath. Her efforts to move had pulled the top two buttons at the vee necked fastening of her shirt-blouse free and exposed the delicate lace of her bra—one of the new ones Miranda had chosen for her. The buttons on her skirt still dug into her waist and gingerly Cassie reached round and managed to unfasten them, telling herself that she would stay where she was for a little while longer and then find some way of moving away.
Closing her eyes she gave in to daydreams, letting her imagination pretend that she and Joel were in actual fact lovers; that she was in his arms because he could not bear to let her go, rather than because he had turned to her simply for warmth and comfort. His breathing, slow and soft now, fluttered her pulses into erotic awareness, a pleasurable lassitude relaxed her body until it melted against his. Her eyes closed and Cassie’s fingers found and stroked through the dark hair at the back of Joel’s head. She would go in a few minutes…just a few minutes.
* * *
CASSIE WAS DREAMING and it was the most delightful dream imaginable. Joel was making love to her, his hands and lips stroking and caressing her body into molten pleasure. She murmured his name in a small throaty purr, revelling in the warmth of his mouth against her skin, free from the need to hide how she felt from him; free to touch and caress him as he was caressing her. Her fingers stroked along his spine as she felt the warmth of his mouth probing the valley between her breasts. Her bones had turned to liquid; she was completely formless, floating free in a deliciously euphoric state which pushed aside the bonds of reality. Joel’s hand moved, seeking the impediment that prevented his mouth from savouring the soft roundness of her breasts and Cassie moved eagerly to assist him, filled with an exquisite rush of pleasure as his lips feathered delicately against her nipple, his hand cupping her breast and then caressing it as delicate exploration started to give way to passion.
It was her own gasp of mingled delight and hunger that woke Cassie to reality and to the discovery that Joel’s caresses were no dream. In the darkness of the room she could just make out the contours of his face, his eyes closed in passionate concentration as his mouth moved against her body. Intense spears of pleasure hurtled through her body, mind battling against desire and losing in the wild surge of pleasure flooding through her. Joel’s hand left her breast, caressing the curve of her waist, pushing aside her skirt to stroke along her hip, a deep sound of pleasure murmured against her skin as his body sought closer contact with hers.
Cassie knew she should wake him up; knew that his actions were instinctive, simple reactions to her proximity; that he had no idea who he was making love to, but she couldn’t stop herself from sliding her fingers down his spine; from exploring the shape of the muscles that lay beneath his skin and from following the ar
rowing dark hair up over his chest, to accidently brush across the hard flatness of his nipple and feel its unexpected response to her touch. Her fingers lingered, exploring delicately, surprised by his physical response. His lips tightened over her nipple, his fingers curling into her hip. Immediately Cassie removed her fingers, trembling slightly in shock and desire. She hadn’t known men could be so physically responsive to so small a caress, and she was half ashamed of her own deep seated urge to go on to elicit from him an intensity of desire that would push aside the barriers of restraint, but even as she drew away his mouth slid to the hollow between her breasts, his voice thick and slurred as he groaned. ‘No…don’t stop…touch me again…’
Cassie looked wildly down at him, wondering if he realised who she was. His eyes were still closed and she suspected he was still half asleep, still under the influence of the pain-killing drug, but his lips were teasing tormenting kisses against her breasts, his fingers exploring the satin smoothness of her stomach, turning her body to fiery liquid, making it shudder with pleasure and need.
She reached out, touching him tentatively again and then growing bolder as he made husky sounds of pleasure against her skin, his tongue stroking nerve sensitising circles of delight around her now gently swollen breasts. When it flicked against their hardened tips, tormenting them with the promise of pleasures to come she felt all self-control slipping away from her. Her hands stroked feverishly over Joel’s skin, her lips pressing wild, impassioned kisses against the smooth flesh of his shoulder, a small moaning cry of passion wrung from her lips as his teeth grated achingly over the taut fullness of her breast.
Without being able to do a thing to stop herself Cassie found she was arching wantonly against him, needing the hard thrust of his hips against her lower body, her fingers sliding into his hair as he tugged avidly at the centre of her breast until pleasure became almost a pain and she was forced to cry out, shaking with the intensity of her own emotion and the physical hunger she sensed building up inside him.
