Hold the Dream

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘Cheers,’ Paula said, leaning closer, knocking her glass against his.

  ‘Cheers.’ Their hands accidentally touched as they lifted their glasses. He felt a spark of electricity shoot up his arm. He pushed himself even further into the corner, crossed his legs. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘I’d like to ask you a question.’

  ‘Go on then…’

  ‘Will you tell me the truth?’

  He eyed her, suddenly wary. ‘It depends on the question. If I don’t like it I might be evasive in my answer.’

  She gave him an odd look. ‘You and I always told each other the truth when we were children. We never dealt in lies then…I’d like it to be like that between us again.’

  ‘But it is!’

  ‘Not really, Shane.’ She saw the surprise registering in his eyes. ‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘it’s been like old times this week, I admit, but there has been an estrangement between us for almost two years. Please don’t even try to deny that.’ There, it was out at last. ‘In fact,’ she went on quickly, ‘you’ve been cold and distant with me for the longest time. When I asked you about your remoteness, your absence from my life, oh ages ago now, you brushed me off with silly excuses. Pressure of work, travel, you said.’ Paula placed her drink on the coffee table and stared hard at him. ‘I never really believed you in my heart of hearts, and that brings me to my question.’ She paused, her eyes stayed on his face. ‘And it’s this: what awful thing did I do to you, to drive you out of my life? You – my oldest and dearest friend.’

  He stared back at her, unable to make any kind of response. If he told her the truth he would reveal himself, his real feelings. If he lied he would hate himself for doing so. Anyway, she was clever. She would spot the lie immediately. He swallowed, put his drink down, looked ahead at the fire, his face reflective. Better to be silent.

  Neither of them spoke for a while.

  Paula, her eyes fixed on him, knew suddenly what his terrible dilemma was. Oh my darling, she thought, open your heart to me, tell me everything. Her love for Shane flowed through her, sweeping all else aside. She caught her breath in astonishment as she finally acknowledged her feelings. She longed to put her arms around him, to expunge the sadness on his face with her kisses.

  The silence lengthened.

  Paula said softly, ‘I realize how difficult it is for you to answer my question.’ There was only the merest hesitation before she finished, ‘And so I will do it for you. You dropped me because I became engaged to Jim and then married him shortly afterwards.’

  Still he did not dare open his mouth, afraid of giving himself away. So she had guessed. But exactly how much had she guessed. He blinked, continuing to focus on the dancing flames. He knew he could not let her see his face until he had wiped it clean of all emotion.

  Eventually he half turned to her, said slowly, in a voice that was strangely hoarse, ‘Yes, that’s the reason I put distance between us, Paula. Perhaps I was wrong to do that. But…you see…I thought…that Jim would resent me, yes, and that you would too. After all, why would either of you want an old chum like me loitering on your doorstep…’ He left the sentence unfinished.

  ‘Shane…you’re not telling me the truth…you know you’re not, and so do I.’

  It was the inflection of her voice that caught his attention, prompted him to swing his head. In the bright glow of the firelight the pallor of her face had acquired a curious luminosity, a pearly sheen. The violet eyes had darkened, burned with an unfamiliar look he could not fathom. He noticed a vein pulsing rapidly in her neck. She parted her lips as if to say something, but remained silent. That expression in her eyes. Again it struck him with unusual force. His desire for her raged through him. His heart thudded, an internal shaking gripped him. It took all of his self-control to remain seated, to stay away from her. Then he knew what he must do – he must get up, walk out, leave her. But he found he could not move.

  They gazed at each other.

  Paula saw his love, no longer concealed, leaping out from his brilliantly black eyes. Instantaneously Shane saw her love fully revealed, saw the yearning on her face, the longing and desire that hitherto had been only his to disguise, to withhold.

  The shock of recognition transfixed him.

  And then with sureness, absolute certainty, they moved at precisely the same moment.

  They were in each other’s arms. Their mouths met. Her lips were warm and soft and they parted slightly, welcomed him. Their tongues grazed, caressed, lay still. He pushed her down on to the mound of pillows, his left hand holding the nape of her neck, his right smoothing her hair away from her face, stroking her cheek, her long neck. Her hands pressed into his shoulder blades, then moved up into his hair, strong and firm on his scalp. He began to kiss her as he had wanted to kiss her for so long, with passion and force, his mouth hard and demanding on hers, his tongue thrusting, their breath, their saliva, mingling. But unexpectedly his kisses became gentle, tender, as he moved his hand on to her breast. He held it firmly, then slowly stroked it until the nipple sprang up hard under his fingers. His heart was slamming against hers.

  They pulled apart at last, their breathing laboured. He looked down into her face. His eyes impaled hers. She reached up, touched his face, traced one finger across the line of his long upper lip under the moustache.

  Shane stood up, undressed rapidly, flung his clothes on to the chair. Paula did the same, and they came together on the sofa with urgency, their hands clutching at each other. He took her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest, kissing her face, her hair, her shoulders. Then he pushed himself up on one elbow, bent over her. How well he knew this body. He had watched it grow from infant to child to young woman. But he had never seen it like this – entirely naked, every inch of it exposed to him, waiting for him. He let his hand slide down over her high, firm breasts, on to her flat stomach, along the edge of her outer thigh, then her inner thigh, smoothing, caressing, touching every part of her until they came to rest on that soft black vee of hair that concealed the core of her womanhood. He covered it with his entire hand, moved his body so that he could rest his face against her thigh. His fingers seemed to move of their own accord, gently seeking, probing, learning her. And finally he brought his mouth down to join with his fingers in their tender exploration.

  Shane felt her immediately stiffen. He stopped, lifted his head, stared up along the slender stretch of her body, met her widening eyes. She was watching him intently, her expression baffled, alarmed. He smiled. So much for her marriage. His way of loving her, giving her pleasure, was seemingly new, and most transparently so. This sudden insight, the thought of her inexperience, delighted and thrilled him. At least no other man had touched her thus.

  Her tenseness increased. She tried to raise herself on her elbows, opened her mouth to speak.

  He murmured, ‘Be still, let me love you.’

  ‘But you, what about you?’ she whispered.

  ‘What’s a few more minutes after all the years I’ve waited for you.’

  Paula fell back against the cushions, sighing lightly. She closed her eyes, let her body go limp, allowed him to do as he wished with her. Her senses were beginning to reel, not only from the suddenness with which they had come together, but from his passion and sensuality. The way Shane was kissing and touching every part of her was unfamiliar, erotic. With his knowledge, expertise and sensitivity he knew exactly how to arouse her fully. He excited her as she had never been excited before, and she opened up to him uninhibitedly. Quiver upon quiver ran through her as his mouth and fingers loved her with delicacy, then fervency and always with consummate skill. They seemed to transmit a scorching heat, struck the core of her being with an exquisite sensation that she had never known had existed until this moment. The heat was spreading, searing her body. ‘Oh Shane, Shane, please don’t stop,’ she gasped, unaware that she had spoken.

  He could not answer unless he stopped, and he could not stop now. H
e was being carried along by her mounting excitement. It matched his own. He was aroused as he had never been, and her desire for him was thrilling, a powerful aphrodisiac. He intensified his concentration on her, savouring the warmth of her, bringing her to the pinnacle of ecstasy. He knew that any moment she would spasm. She did and he lifted himself on top of her, joined himself to her with a power and force that made them both cry out. She clung to him, screamed his name. He brought his mouth down hard on hers. She cleaved to him, her body arching. They began to move in unison, their mutual passion rising.

  Shane opened his eyes. The room was brilliant with light. And he who had so recently craved darkness now wanted that light…blinding glittering light. He wanted to see her face, catch every flicker of emotion that crossed it, needed to know that it truly was she whom he was loving. He pushed himself up, his hands braced on each side of her, and she lifted her lids, staring into his face. He stared back. He began to move again and with rapidity and she followed his lead and not once did his searching eyes leave hers. Suddenly he slowed the rhythm, wanting to prolong their joining.

  He suddenly understood that this went far, far beyond mere sexual possession. He was possessing her soul, her heart, her mind, as she was possessing his. She was his dreamlike child of his childhood dreams…in his arms at last…truly his at last. She belonged to him now. He held the world in his arms. The pain he had lived with ceased abruptly. His old life fell away…down…down…into a dark void…a new life was beginning…he was someone entirely new. He was a complete man…made whole as he came up…up into the blinding, blinding light where she waited in the centre of the radiance.

  They were mesmerized by each other. Their eyes locked, became wider as their scrutiny intensified. They looked deeper, deeper still, endeavouring to convey the extent and strength of their emotions, and they saw into infinity, saw their own souls and each other’s. And everything was made clear.

  She is my life, he thought. And oh the blessed peace of it.

  She thought: There is only Shane. There only ever has been Shane.

  He started to move against her, slowly at first and then more urgently and without restraint. She matched him, was as unrestrained as he. Their bodies entwined. Their mouths joined. They became one.

  As he felt his life’s essence flowing through him into her, he cried out, ‘I love you, I have always loved you, I will love you until the day I die.’

  Shane’s bedroom was much larger and more spacious than the one he had given her, but it was warm because the entire barn was centrally heated.

  As in her room, a huge brass bed dominated the space. Paula now lay propped up against the mound of snowy pillows, a down comforter tucked around her chest, only her bare shoulders revealed. She sighed, filled with contentment and an extraordinary feeling of inner peace, and of completeness. The physical release she had experienced with Shane was wholly new to her. She had never achieved satisfaction before, and she marvelled at him, at herself, and at their lovemaking. How unselfish and tender he was, and oh how she had responded to his emotion, to his yearning desire for her. And because of his genuine understanding of her, his caring, their loving had been natural, uninhibited, full of exultation and joyousness, a true bonding in every way.

  When they finally doused the lights in the main room and crept upstairs carrying their clothes, she had believed their mutual passion was entirely spent. Exhausted, they had lain here in this great bed, their bodies touching, holding hands under the sheet, and they had not stopped talking. And then quite suddenly their desire for each other had flared unexpectedly, and they had made love for the second time with the same urgent need and breathlessness.

  Shane had turned on the lamp, thrown back the bedclothes, telling her he must look at her, know that it was really she, must witness the emotions he was evoking in her. The kissing, the touching had been unhurried and voluptuous, and again he had brought her to that blissful state of fulfilment before taking her to him, and had led her into new regions, murmuring what he wanted, showing her how to excite him further, love him as he had loved her. And she had done so willingly, lovingly, taking pleasure from his pleasure. But he had stopped her when he was on the brink, and pulled her on top of him, his body thrusting upward to join with hers. And together they had reached greater heights of rapture than the first time.

  Shane had finally switched off the lamp, and wrapped in each other’s arms they had tried to sleep but it had eluded them both. They were too keyed up and conscious of each other, needed to prolong their new-found intimacy. And so they had begun to talk in the dark, and then a few minutes ago Shane had gone downstairs to make tea for them.

  Paula leaned forward and glanced at the clock on the small campaign chest at his side of the bed. It was nearly four. We made love endlessly, she thought, but not mindlessly. Oh no, not mindlessly at all. She had not realized until tonight how beautiful the sexual union between a man and a woman could be. In fact she had always thought that sex was not what it was cracked up to be. How wrong she had been. But it has to be the right man with the right woman, she said under her breath. She sank into the pillows, another sigh escaping as she waited for Shane to come back.

  He did so a moment or two later, carrying a laden tray and singing a popular song at the top of his voice.

  ‘Who do you think you are? A pop star?’ she cried, sitting up in bed, grinning at him.

  His answer was to gyrate his body at her several times and leer in an exaggerated fashion.

  He brought her the mug of tea and the plate of ginger biscuits she had requested, put his own tea and chocolate biscuits on his bedside chest. Continuing to hum the melody, he slipped off his robe, threw it across a nearby chair.

  She looked at his broad back, massive shoulders and strong arms, and admiringly so. He was a big, well-built man, and she had seen him in swimming trunks for years. So why did his powerful physique seem so startling to her tonight? Because now she really knew him? Because she had learned about his body as he had hers and in the most intimate way?

  As he swung around he noticed that she was staring at him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing. I was just thinking I’ve never seen you so brown.’ She giggled. ‘But you’ve got a white bottom.’

  ‘And you too, madame, will have a brown back and a white bottom by this time next week.’ He strode over to the bed, unself-conscious in his nakedness, and got in next to her, kissed her cheek. ‘If I’ve got anything to do with it, that is.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all she said, gazing at him.

  ‘Yes. I have to go to Barbados on Tuesday. Come with me, Paula.’ His eyes appealed.

  ‘Oh Shane, what a lovely idea. Of course I’ll come with you.’ Her face instantly dropped. ‘But I couldn’t get away until Wednesday.’

  ‘That’s all right.’ He turned to get his mug of tea, took a sip. ‘It’ll give me a chance to do some of my work. Actually, I will have to spend some time every morning in the administrative offices. But we’ll have the afternoons…and all those beautiful nights.’ His smile was suggestive, his dancing black eyes wickedly teasing.

  She said, with a small smile, ‘I’ve been dying to go to Barbados – to see the Harte boutique.’

  He lifted his brows. ‘Ah ha, so that’s why you agreed, and so readily. And I thought you were after my body again.’

  Paula gave him a light playful punch on his arm. ‘Oh you!’ She drank her tea. It tasted good, hot and refreshing. And she felt good. No, wonderful. And filled with wonderment. She reached out, took a chocolate biscuit from the plate on his lap, munched it, then took another.

  ‘I wonder what a psychiatrist would make of that?’ Shane said.

  ‘Make of what?’

  ‘This constant desire of yours to eat off my plate. You’ve been doing it all of your life, and perhaps it has some hidden sexual meaning. Do you think it’s a form of oral gratification, linked in some way to me and your feelings for me?’

 
She threw back her head and laughed, enjoying him, being with him. ‘I don’t know. And I’ll try to stop doing it, but childhood habits are hard to break. As a matter of fact, very seriously, I’ve really got to curb my appetite. I haven’t stopped eating since I’ve been with you. Anyone would think I’ve been on a starvation diet.’

  Shane merely smiled, thought: You have, my darling, in more ways than you know.

  They finished their tea and biscuits, continuing to chat about the trip to Barbados, and Shane was delighted she was so obviously thrilled and excited about the prospect of spending five days with him in the sun. At one moment Shane got out of bed, found his cigarettes and opened the window. ‘You don’t mind if I smoke do you?’ he asked, climbing back into bed.

  ‘Not at all.’ Paula edged closer to him, so that their legs touched and their shoulders grazed, wanting the closeness of him.

  ‘Happy, darling?’ he asked, glancing at her through the corner of his eye.

  ‘Very happy. Are you?’

  ‘As never before.’

  There was a short silence, then Paula confessed, ‘I’ve never made love like that before.’

  ‘I know you haven’t.’

  ‘Was it that obvious…my inexperience?’

  He chuckled, squeezed her hand, said nothing.

  She said, ‘But you’re very experienced, Shane.’ She stole a look at his face. Jealousy, an unfamiliar feeling, trickled through her. ‘You’ve had a lot of women.’

  He was not certain if this last remark was a question or a statement. ‘You’ve heard all the gossip about me and my romantic escapades over the years.’

  ‘The stories were all true then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why not me, Shane?’

  ‘That’s fairly obvious, easy to answer…because of Emma and Blackie, their relationship, the closeness and involvement of our two families. But even if I’d understood my true feelings for you, Paula, I wouldn’t have dared come near you, tried to make love to you. I’d have been skinned alive, and you know I would.’ He thought of Dorothea Mallet’s words, added, ‘Before your marriage, you were sort of – well, the crown princess of the three clans. And, therefore, inviolate. A man doesn’t sleep with a woman like you, have an affair with her. He proposes marriage. Sadly, regrettably I didn’t know that I wanted you desperately, or how I felt about you when you were available, unattached. I was too close to you, I suppose.’