Lovestorm (Harlequin Treasury 1990's)

by Jennifer Taylor

  ‘I should have thought that was obvious. Instead of asking stupid questions, Jacob, why don’t you help me get these shut?’ She turned back to the task then gave a startled scream when she felt herself being lifted unceremoniously off her feet. When Jacob started marching back towards the front door, which was banging back and forth with the wind, she clutched at his shoulders instinctively to steady herself even while she gasped out a protest.

  ‘Put me down at once! This is ridiculous.’

  Jacob bent into the wind, his face close to hers, his eyes slitted against the dirt and debris which were flying around. ‘Shut up, Helen. Just for once, do as you’re told, will you, without a fuss!’

  Not bothering to wait for her reply, he struggled back inside the house then swung her out of his arms, breathing heavily from his exertions. The rain had soaked him too, his jacket darkened with water, the fine white shirt clinging transparently to the strong muscles in his chest as it rose and fell with every laboured breath he took. Helen stared at him, drinking in the sight he made as he stood there, and felt heat surge through her. Helplessly, her gaze lifted to his face but Jacob was already turning to go back outside and missed the shock which showed in her eyes at her unexpected reaction.

  ‘Stay inside and keep away from the windows until I get those shutters fastened. You don’t want to risk getting cut if they smash under the force of that wind.’

  He was gone in a second, his far superior strength enabling him to work his way along the house closing the shutters. Helen stayed where she was, unaware that she was dripping water on to the highly polished floor. That surge of raw desire she’d felt had knocked her completely off balance. It was only when Jacob finally struggled back through the door that she rallied herself again.

  ‘I—I’d better go and get some dry clothes on.’ She turned to go then stopped when Jacob spoke in a strangely gentle tone.

  ‘There’s no need to be frightened, Helen. The storm will blow itself out fairly quickly, I imagine.’

  Jacob had mistaken one fear for another, imagined that it was the thought of the storm which scared her! Helen bit her lip against a sudden hysteria and almost ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. She must have been mad to feel that way even for a second! Hadn’t that first night at the bungalow been warning enough as to how quickly Jacob would take advantage of any sign of weakness?

  Her hands shook as she stripped off the sodden clothes and dressed again in white trousers and a long-sleeved lemon cotton shirt, yet when she looked in the mirror to check her appearance she was shocked at her reflection. The fresh clothes had done little to disguise the hectic glitter in her eyes, the flush which ran along each cheekbone. If Jacob saw her still looking like this then he really would start to become suspicious!

  Sitting down in front of the mirror, she applied make-up to tone down the wild colour and brushed her hair back from her face and secured it on top of her head in a severe knot, hoping that it would tone down her whole appearance, but it didn’t do that. If anything the severe style and lack of colour in her face served to highlight the luminous glitter in her emerald green eyes.

  With a groan, Helen wiped the make-up off then ripped the pins out of her hair and ran her fingers through it before dropping her head into her hands in a gesture of despair. All day long she’d thought about what Jacob had told her, and she felt so vulnerable now that all her beliefs had been shaken to their foundations, yet she couldn’t afford to let Jacob know she felt that way.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Suddenly Jacob was in the room, his voice holding a note of genuine concern as he watched her. Helen straightened, forcing herself to turn and meet his gaze while inside her heart felt as though it was running a race.

  ‘It is customary to knock before you come barging into a room,’ she said coldly.

  ‘I did knock. You didn’t hear me, obviously.’ Unmoved, he came further into the room and lounged indolently against the wall close to where she was sitting while he subjected her to a thorough scrutiny which made her want to curl into a ball and hide. He had changed out of his wet clothes too into jeans and a pale blue T-shirt, although his feet were bare and his hair lying slickly against his skull. He looked big and indomitably male as he stood there staring at her with those eyes which always seemed to see far too much. Helen picked up her hairbrush and ran it through the length of her hair, raising her brows when he continued to watch her without saying a word.

  ‘I take it that you do have a reason for bursting in here?’

  He smiled as though her annoyance amused him, yet his voice was perfectly even when he replied. ‘I was just checking that you were all right. You seemed to be taking a long time.’

  ‘I didn’t realise that there was a time limit. Next time I shall make sure that I give you a detailed account of what I intend to do and how long it will take me. Will that suit you?’ She set the brush down, staring back at him until she was forced to drop her eyes, not proof against the taunting light in his.

  ‘What are you so uptight about, Helen? Surely you’re over-reacting. I did knock, you didn’t hear me—end of story. Or is it?’

  She couldn’t help but look at him then, driven by curiosity to know what he meant, and went cold at the light of speculation in his eyes when they met hers and held.

  ‘Is there something else bothering you, Helen?’ His voice was velvety, warm and rich as it stroked so deliciously along every one of her raw nerves. Suddenly what she had felt before in the hall came rushing back to hit her again, twice as hard. Jacob was an attractive man and she had never been more aware of it than then as she sat there in the bedroom with the storm raging all around them and an even bigger one raging inside her!

  ‘You look scared, Helen, but what of? The storm? Me, perhaps? Or is it the fact that you are starting to have second thoughts about what you feel about me?’

  ‘I—no! Don’t be ridiculous!’ She jumped up, unable to sit there a moment longer under that searching scrutiny. Crossing the room, she bent to gather up the broken pieces of the lamp, using the few seconds it gave her to try to get herself under control again. It was vital that she play this scene calmly and not give Jacob any evidence to prove his suspicions.

  ‘Why is it ridiculous? I told you something you were unaware of, so logically it must have altered your views somewhat.’

  ‘You told me some sort of a story, Jacob. Why should I believe it?’ she stalled.

  ‘It would be silly for me to lie when you can so easily verify it, wouldn’t it, Helen?’ He laughed softly. ‘But what you are saying is that until you have proof that I was telling the truth you don’t intend to change your views one iota? You still hate me, in fact?’

  He was relentless, pushing her on and on in a direction she didn’t want to go. There was danger along this route, she knew, although she couldn’t fully have explained how. Tonight of all nights she didn’t want this sort of discussion.

  ‘Surely it’s a simple enough question, Helen. You have never had any difficulty in expressing your feelings in the past.’

  His soft voice seemed to taunt her attempts to hold the situation at bay, filling her with a nervousness she found it hard to disguise. ‘I—I can’t see any point in repeating myself. You must know how I feel, Jacob.’

  She gathered the last sliver of glass into the pile then stood up to fetch the waste-basket. She hadn’t realised that Jacob had crossed the room and gasped when she brushed against him. Instinctively she stepped back, her bare foot poised above the pile of glass.

  ‘Careful!’ Jacob drew her away from the danger but into a different sort of danger as he continued to hold her long past the point when it was necessary. Helen could feel every inch of his body against her own, could feel the power in the hands which held her, and her heart went wild as it beat inside her. She wanted to drag herself away from him and run, yet somehow she couldn’t seem to find the strength as her heart sent the blood singing along her veins.

  ‘Surely you must hav
e thought about what I told you, Helen? Yet you claim it hasn’t altered your view of me?’ He shook his head, his mouth curved into a smile which made her heart-beat increase a fraction further. ‘It’s hard to believe you are telling the truth, darling.’

  Helen drew in a shuddery breath, willing herself to stay calm. ‘Then I suggest you try harder, Jacob. Oh, obviously I have thought about what you said, but until I have spoken to my father and confirmed your story then I shall reserve judgement.’

  He laughed aloud, his fingers tightening just a fraction before he moved her safely away from the glass and let her go. ‘Spoken like the true sceptic I know you are! Fair enough, Helen, I shall have to leave it at that. It just makes the anticipation all that much sweeter, in fact.’

  He turned to fetch the bin and started to drop the glittering slivers of glass into it. Helen studied him uncertainly, itching to ask a question she knew deep down she shouldn’t ask. But it was a battle she was destined to lose, of course, as Jacob undoubtedly had known she would.

  ‘Anticipation of what?’

  He glanced up from his crouched position, the light from the overhead fitment bouncing off his black hair yet setting his face in shadow. ‘Anticipation of the moment when you can no longer hide behind hatred. Perhaps then you will admit how you really feel about me, Helen.’

  There was a wealth of meaning in that deep voice. Helen’s face went ashen before she suddenly turned on her heel and hurried from the room, but it was impossible to turn her back on what Jacob had meant. If she didn’t hate him any longer, then would she suddenly find that she loved him instead?

  The idea was crazy, of course; the egotistical ramblings of a man too used to having his own way! Yet it was hard to dismiss it now that the idea had been planted in her mind. Love and hate were two emotions that men and women had been fighting against since the beginning of time, yet to turn from one and embrace the other was too frightening to imagine. Hating Jacob was one thing, loving him would be infinitely worse!

  * * *

  By the time they finished the sketchy meal Helen prepared for them the storm still showed no sign of abating. The electricity had gone off an hour or so before, so Helen had been forced to work by torchlight as she’d prepared sandwiches and cold drinks. Now she stood up and gathered the few dishes on to a tray to carry them over to the sink, ignoring Jacob as he got up and followed her. Conversation had been non-existent throughout the meal. Helen had wanted to find something to say to break the increasing tension but somehow the words wouldn’t come and Jacob had made no attempt to help her. What was he thinking now? Was he enjoying the fact that his earlier taunt had had an obvious effect?

  The thought annoyed her so much that she slammed the tray down on to the worktop with far more force than necessary, making the china rattle precariously.

  ‘The storm seems to be making you jumpy, Helen, or perhaps something else is bothering you?’

  There was no way she was going to touch that with a barge-pole! Helen ran water into the bowl and added an extra large squirt of washing-up liquid, ignoring Jacob completely as she doused the first plate in the sudsy water. He laughed softly, picking up the towel from its rack to dry the plate and set it carefully down on the counter. Helen cast it a venomous glance then turned her attention back to the task, scrubbing the next plate so hard that it was in danger of losing its delicate pattern. Realising what she was doing she went to set it in the rack then jerked her hand back when Jacob reached to take it off her and their hands touched.

  The plate teetered on the edge of the draining board until Jacob rescued it, drying it carefully before setting it on top of the other one.

  ‘Do I make you nervous, Helen?’ His tone was bland, yet Helen could feel her hand half lifting from the suds as she fought a sudden urge to wipe the undoubtedly mocking smile off his arrogant face.

  ‘Yes!’ she snapped back, shooting him a hard glance. ‘But then that was your intention, wasn’t it, Jacob?’

  His eyes flickered briefly with annoyance before he smiled as he tossed the towel aside. ‘Then I must apologise. Perhaps it would be better if I left you to it?’

  ‘Perhaps it would.’ Helen turned away, washing the cutlery with meticulous thoroughness as she heard Jacob walk towards the door. She sighed softly, letting her hands rest in the water. How much longer would this storm continue? It just seemed to make the whole situation worse.

  As though in answer to her silent question, the wind gave another huge roar as it rushed towards the house, beating against the shutters. Instinctively Helen stepped back away from the window then shot a startled glance upwards when there was a thunderous crashing overhead. Suddenly chunks of plaster started raining down on her head and shoulders and she gave a small gasp of alarm.

  ‘Helen!’ Jacob’s voice was urgent as he rushed into the room. He caught her by the hand and dragged her towards the door so fast that Helen hardly knew what was happening. There was another deafening explosion of sound and as she watched wide-eyed the ceiling and a section of the roof above fell in. Through the gaping hole she could see the broken remains of a palm tree which the wind had uprooted. If Jacob hadn’t reacted so swiftly, the whole lot would have come crashing down on top of her.

  A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, followed by another until her body seemed to be racked with them as reaction set in. Jacob pulled her almost roughly into his arms and held her tight as he smoothed the hair back from her face, and Helen was shocked to feel him trembling almost as hard as she was. Her eyes lifted to meet his almost helplessly, and she heard him mutter something harsh before he crushed her mouth under his in a kiss which held scant finesse but a wealth of feeling before, just as abruptly, he set her away from him.

  ‘Are you all right? Nothing fell on you?’ Even while he asked the terse questions his hands slid over her shoulders and down her arms as he searched for any injuries. Helen took a shuddery breath, trying to quell the disturbing sensations that kiss had ignited inside her. She still felt shocked both by what had happened and Jacob’s reaction to it, but she had to get herself under control and not allow the drama of the situation to push common sense aside.

  She moved away from his seeking hands, running her fingers over her hair to dislodge the dust and lumps of plaster clinging to it. ‘I’m fine. There’s no need to make a fuss. I haven’t suffered any kind of injury.’

  Her voice was as cool as she could make it and she saw Jacob frown narrowly before he replied in tones just as cool as hers, ‘Good. At least we don’t have the problem of your being injured to contend with. You were lucky, Helen, it was a close call.’

  He glanced over her shoulder, his mouth thinning at what he saw—whether it was the thought of the danger she’d been in or the damage the tree had caused, Helen had no idea, but immediately opted for the latter.

  ‘Without a doubt. However, the house doesn’t seem to have fared so well. Do you think any of the other rooms were damaged?’

  ‘That’s what I intend to find out.’ Picking up one of the large battery-run lanterns, Jacob left the kitchen and Helen followed him from room to room as he made a thorough inspection, her heart sinking at what they found. The lounge, study and her bedroom had all suffered a similar fate to the kitchen when the tree had fallen, leaving only Jacob’s bedroom and the small dining-room intact. Rain was pouring in through the roof in the other rooms, pooling on the wooden floor, soaking into the sofas and rugs.

  ‘Shouldn’t we try to move some of the furniture out before it gets damaged?’ Helen asked, surveying the ruin of the lounge.

  Jacob shook his head. ‘No, it’s far too risky. The rest of the roof might come in at any moment.’

  ‘Then what are we going to do?’ Helen glanced uncertainly at him then stared up through the gaping hole in the ceiling. The storm was even louder now that it had broken into the house, the wind booming around. Jacob was undoubtedly right about the risks but the thought of going out in such a gale wasn’t appealing, and she voi
ced her thoughts aloud. ‘I don’t fancy being outside in this.’

  He smiled grimly, closing the door on the damage. ‘Neither do I. Frankly, it would be foolish to go outside in a storm of this magnitude. There is no way that we would make it into town. I had a terrible job getting back here before and the wind wasn’t nearly as strong then as it is now.’

  ‘What do you mean? How did you get back before? Did you come by taxi, or what?’

  ‘”By what” sums it up.’ He gave a short laugh as he ran his hand through his hair to smooth it back from his forehead. ‘I could only find a cab to bring me part of the way. Everyone was too concerned with making preparations for the storm. I had to walk the rest.’

  ‘Walk?’ There was no disguising the shock she felt at the revelation. ‘But why didn’t you stay in town, Jacob? It must have been a nightmare trying to walk back in this!’

  ‘Why? Because you would have been here by yourself, Helen, if I hadn’t got back.’

  He turned to go into his bedroom, leaving Helen to sort through the mixture of feelings which followed that terse explanation. Jacob had put himself at risk to get back to the bungalow rather than leave her by herself. Perhaps she was being foolish but the realisation made her feel suddenly warm and—and cared for. And that wasn’t something she had ever expected to feel around Jacob!

  ‘Here, take this, will you, Helen?’

  Jacob suddenly appeared in the hall, his arms full of bedding as he came towards her. Helen automatically took the pillows he held out to her then stared at them in confusion, but he was already making his way across the hall to enter the dining-room. She followed him slowly, stopping uncertainly in the doorway as she watched him drop the pile of quilts and several blankets on to the floor by the table. Kneeling down, he arranged the quilt under the heavy mahogany table then glanced back at her.

  ‘Pass me those pillows, please.’