Feeling as though she was operating in slow motion, Hillary peeled back the sheet and thus exposed her naked body to the morning air. She swung her legs gracefully over the side of the bed, rose to her feet and stretched luxuriously, noticing with pleasure how her stomach flattened and her pink-tipped breasts rose high on her ribcage. She pulled her arms back, as though working an invisible chest expander, glancing downwards to see how her breasts now jutted forwards proudly. Relaxing her shoulders, she cupped one brown orb in each hand, rolling the nipple gently between thumb and forefinger for a brief moment before releasing them and running the palms of her hands firmly down her sides, following the curve of her waist and hips.
She felt tempted to climb back onto the bed and explore herself further but the early-morning sounds were fast becoming a cacophony, urging her to start the day voluntarily before someone knocked at her door and forced her into it. With a slight shrug Hillary bowed to the inevitable and padded into her bathroom, pausing only to check in the mirror that her face was as relaxed and smiling as it felt before stepping into the shower.
Basking for a few seconds in the steam cloud, she began to slowly rotate her body, her face turned up to the invigorating spray as she soaped and rinsed her slick bronzed skin over and over again. Her hair rapidly gathered moisture and parted into thick silky cords. As she turned completely round for the second time she noticed, with a slight feeling of surprise, that her view from the window was not obscured by opaque glass as was usually the custom with bathrooms. Admittedly, she was some thirty feet above ground level and the Hall was hardly what one could describe as overlooked, but nevertheless she felt a shiver of unease, remembering that Alicia had thought someone was watching her. Now she too felt vulnerable and exposed to someone’s eye.
Feeling slightly foolish, Hillary rinsed her body for the last time and quickly wrapped herself in one of the thick white towelling robes thoughtfully provided by their temporary landlord as a home comfort. Each of the luxurious robes sported a breast pocket hand-embroidered with the Harwood Hall ‘HH’ logo in a different colour. She glanced down – hers was embroidered in navy blue. She wrapped one of the matching bath towels around her hair turban style, then spent a few moments cleansing her face and brushing her teeth. By the time she had finished she felt fresh, alert and ready to meet the day head on.
Without bothering to dress, she made her way to the kitchen where she found Odile and Chloe munching on thin slices of unbuttered toast.
‘I don’t know how you can bear to eat it like that,’ she muttered, taking a piece that had just popped up from the toaster before spreading it thickly with butter and marmalade. Ignoring Chloe’s envious stare she bit into it, wincing as a little hot butter ran down her chin.
‘I suppose, being sporty, you can eat what you like,’ Chloe said, sounding as though she could cheerfully tear out Hillary’s heart and roast it on a spit.
For a while they all ate in silence, then Odile piped up. ‘I wonder what time the boys will arrive?’
Hillary was confused for a split second, then remembered that it was Friday and therefore the menfolk would be arriving later in the day. With a fleeting feeling of envy she wished someone was coming to spend the weekend with her. Her thoughts automatically returned to Darius and Haldane. She knew with certainty that it was only a matter of time before she won one of them over, the question was, which would it be?
Inexplicably, Chloe looked at her watch, then proceeded to answer Odile’s question. ‘Gus called last night and said he and Clive would be arriving sometime this afternoon. Probably after they’ve stopped for a pub lunch,’ she added grimly.
‘What about work?’ Hillary asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She looked enquiringly at Chloe who snorted derisively.
‘What about it?’ She leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands behind her head. ‘As far as Gus and Clive are concerned, work is just something they do when there’s nothing better on offer. And to make pots of money of course,’ she added, fingering her impressive diamond engagement ring and thick gold wedding band.
‘Theo promised to be here by twelve,’ said Odile, looking smug. ‘I can’t decide whether to take him out somewhere for lunch, or just take him to bed when he gets here.’
‘You mean you seriously think there’s a choice?’ Chloe’s voice was heavily tinged with envy. ‘If I know Theo food will be the last thing he’ll have on his mind.’
Odile blushed hard and giggled. ‘Oh, God, I hope so!’
Hillary smiled. She couldn’t help thinking how pretty Odile looked and how relaxed and happy everyone seemed. Even Alicia, who had walked into the kitchen just at that moment, was smiling broadly. ‘Did I miss something vital? Was it to do with sex?’ She sat down next to Hillary and looked around expectantly.
‘How did you guess?’ Hillary drained the last of her coffee and stood up. She glanced at the other three women. ‘I can’t tell you how much I envy you all right now.’
Alicia tutted sympathetically. ‘I could always ask Clive to bring along a friend for you. I’m sure I could still catch him if I phoned now.’
Hillary was horrified at her sister’s well-meant suggestion. ‘Oh, no! I mean, it’s a nice thought, Alix, but I think I’d rather find my own man, thanks all the same.’
Alicia looked doubtful. ‘Well, if you’re sure, Hills. Great men are a bit thin on the ground around here, you know.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ Hillary smirked.
‘If you’re thinking of Darius I’d steer clear of him if I were you.’
Sometimes, Hillary thought, Alicia sounded exactly as an older sister should. Although she couldn’t help wondering if her man-mad sibling had set her own sights on Darius. ‘I was under the impression you thought he was fabulous.’
Alicia had the grace to blush. ‘Yes, well, I do. But not as a serious partner.’
Hillary sighed heavily, then grinned. ‘I’m not looking for a husband, Alix, I just want a good fuck.’ No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Hillary noticed Fearn hovering in the doorway. Blushing wildly she said, ‘Alicia.’
Her sister followed the direction of her eyes and smiled at the young girl. ‘You can start on the bathrooms if you like.’
Fearn nodded, turned briskly and walked out of the door. As soon as they were certain she was well out of earshot the four women collapsed in gales of hysterical laughter. As their laughter died, Hillary couldn’t help wondering how much the girl had heard and if she would relay the conversation to her employer. In some ways she hoped she would, it might clear any doubts that Darius may have had about her reciprocating his advances. As it turned out, Fearn had heard everything but wouldn’t dream of saying a word. Not that it mattered. From the seclusion of his monitoring room Darius had already overheard the whole conversation.
After a few more minutes the women’s chatter subsided and one by one they made their excuses and left the room. Hillary went straight to her bedroom to change. She had decided to go to the beach alone, taking the magazine that she’d been unable to concentrate on reading on the train and a light picnic lunch.
When she announced her intention Alicia tossed her the keys to her Mercedes. ‘Don’t wreck it, that’s all,’ she warned, sounding just like a big sister for the second time that morning.
4
By car the journey to the beach took no time at all. Hillary parked carefully in the same place Darius had shown them the day before but instead of walking straight down to the main beach she headed in the direction of the sand dunes. After about ten minutes she stopped, stood on top of the tallest dune and surveyed her immediate surroundings.
As it was the end of the week the large beach was quite crowded and some of the lower sand dunes were dotted with small groups of people – mainly randy teenagers, she noticed with a smile. The girls were bravely sunbathing topless but lying firmly on their stomachs, refusing to turn over onto their backs despite endless pleas, inducements and trickery on the part o
f their male companions.
Hillary walked further on until she came to a relatively secluded area, in seconds she had unrolled her towel and stripped down to a pair of minuscule black G-string bikini bottoms. Despite the fact that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, she still felt strangely exposed and glanced around nervously once or twice before uncapping a bottle of suntan oil and anointing her whole body with it. Quickly she covered her limbs and shoulders, taking a little more care as she massaged her breasts and stomach with the slick liquid.
Tremulously she stroked her hands across her own body, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin, even if it was her own. Gradually she became self-conscious, aware that she was arousing herself and that she was no longer in the privacy of her bedroom. Although a swift glance around her showed she was still completely alone, she couldn’t help feeling slightly embarrassed until finally she paused, her hands cupped around her naked breasts, a shiver coursing through her body despite the overpowering heat of the noonday sun. Someone was watching her, she was certain of it now and, far into the distance, she could see the sun glinting off something reflective – a pair of binoculars perhaps?
Quickly she replaced the lid on the bottle and lay down on her back, her arms held stiffly by her sides. She felt as though she was waiting for the unknown to happen to her, like a virgin on a sacrificial altar about to be given to a pagan god. Of course nothing did happen: no bolts of lightning, no sudden appearances by mad axe-men or sex maniacs, just the relentless rays of the sun beating down upon her trembling body.
The heat worked its soporific magic, gradually soothing her and gently easing her tensed muscles until her body relaxed completely into the sand. In the distance she could hear the faint cry of seagulls, the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide telling her that she was nearer the shoreline than before, although quite safe in the shelter of the dunes. Safe – she was safe. Safe and happy. Safe, happy and hot – very hot.
Her body felt heavy, as though it didn’t really belong to her at all, although parts of her felt super sensitive and alive to the slightest breeze or shift in the sand. Her breasts felt particularly heavy – large brown glistening orbs, the delicate skin covering them a mass of nerve endings. And the tips, oh! How they yearned to be stroked, or sucked – to be stimulated beyond the capability of her own imagination. She felt her nipples growing, becoming hard as she concentrated her mind on them.
She was floating somewhere between dreams and reality, or perhaps she was dreaming, dreaming that someone gently brushed their fingers over her breasts. Surely it was a breeze, or a small cloud of sand? She wanted to touch them herself, to discover what had caused the fine hairs to thrill but her arms were leaden, pinned to the sand by an invisible force. Her eyelids too were heavy, far too weighted down to flicker open even for a fraction of a second. It happened again, the faint brush of fingertips against her naked skin, this time across her belly – once, twice, backwards and forwards, featherlight stimulation that set her whole body on fire.
This was not a force of nature, this was man, exploratory man with a knowledgeable hand, teasing her body with barely perceptible touches. She was not dreaming, of that she was certain, but did it matter who was doing this to her? It was a confusing thought. Should it matter? Would it make a difference if the hands working their magic upon her desperate flesh belonged to someone not of her own age, if he – and she was certain they did belong to a he – was very old, or a teenager perhaps? But the touch was too practised, too skilled for a very young person and the hands were large, the skin on the palms slightly coarse, the arms where they brushed against her too hairy to belong to someone of tender years, or to a woman.
She found herself concentrating on the hands themselves almost as much as on what they were doing. Judging by the slight roughness of the palms, the owner must carry out a certain degree of manual work, although they were not the hands of a labourer. The fingers teased her nipples, rolling them, then twisting and pulling them gently. They were large fingers, large and wide. Occasionally she felt the slight scratch of a smooth-edged fingernail, so they were manicured nails, not bitten or broken but well cared for; that suggested the owner was either quite wealthy, or took inordinate care in his appearance, or both. She was desperate to look, to satisfy her curiosity once and for all, but the whole episode had a dreamlike quality that she was unwilling to shatter. She was certain that her mystery man would disappear the moment she opened her eyes.
Now the hands were roaming her body freely, gliding across her oiled skin like skaters on ice. Every now and then the hands dipped between her legs, stroking her inner thighs, stray fingers occasionally fluttering against her barely covered mound. At those times she felt as though she would explode from frustration and curiosity, her clitoris pulsating so hard that she was certain he must be fully aware of her desire. He did it again, his touch no more than a whisper against the desperately swollen hub of her arousal, as a reflex she clenched her buttocks, simultaneously allowing her legs to part slightly. Her eyelids flickered of their own accord and the caresses stopped.
She remained motionless, almost holding her breath in the urgent need to feel the hands once again upon her tormented body. The longed-for touch never came, not as the long minutes ticked by and a cloud symbolically blotted out the sun. Reluctantly she opened her eyes. As she expected she was alone, completely alone. Her mystery lover had gone whence he came and Hillary was left to spend the rest of the afternoon in a confused state of disappointment and extreme arousal.
By three o’clock she had endured all that she could. For hours she had lain motionless, eyes tightly closed, waiting expectantly for a renewed caress that never came. Now her skin was burning and her head aching. Slowly she sat up and fastened a bikini top around herself, clipping the halter neck too hastily so that she pinched the skin on the back of her neck. With tears of frustration in her eyes, she gathered her few possessions together and rammed them angrily into the backpack, pausing only to take a long draught of mineral water before rising to her feet and plodding dejectedly across the sand dunes back in the direction she had come.
By the time she reached the edge of the dunes she realised she had somehow veered off in the wrong direction; the Mercedes was nowhere to be seen, only a wide expanse of deserted beach to one side of her and a thick forest of trees to the other side. She knew she didn’t want to go back onto the beach so her only option was to step into the cool pine-scented gloom of the forest. Tentatively she walked amongst the trees, occasionally stopping to stare upwards, following their apparently topless trunks until her vision was blocked by a thick canopy of branches.
She felt a little like Red Riding Hood, having strayed off from the safety of the path despite her mother’s warning – any minute she would fall into the clutches of the wolf. She giggled nervously to herself, not expecting to see a wolf exactly but half wondering what sort of wild animals inhabited English forests. Being a city girl her imagination was unrestrained by a knowledge of the countryside and its wildlife.
Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. Something was trailing her. When she stopped it stopped. Nervously she looked around her; she could see nothing yet it was close enough for her to hear it breathing. She ran forwards then stopped abruptly. The footsteps stopped dead too but a twig cracked underfoot.
‘Is someone there?’ she called out tremulously, trying to sound braver than she felt.
There was no reply but the breathing was even closer. She could feel it against the back of her neck. She whirled around and found herself staring at a man’s chest – it was Darius.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ She giggled weakly, groping blindly with her right hand until it came into contact with a tree trunk. She leaned her weight against it gratefully.
‘It’s not safe to go wandering about in the forest alone.’ The sentiment was one of concern but he looked anything but, his expression was a strange mixture of amusement and something else, something indefinable that caused a strange sensatio
n in the pit of Hillary’s stomach.
‘I didn’t mean to. I got lost.’ She wondered why she felt so gauche. Beneath her halter top her nipples hardened. She cleared her throat. ‘Can you tell me how to get back to the car? I parked in the same place as yesterday.’
Darius stepped back and leaned his tall frame against the trunk of a large fir tree. He regarded her in thoughtful silence for a few moments, his fingers playing with the barrel of a rifle held between his legs like a phallic symbol as he turned it around and around. Hillary was mesmerised and wondered why she hadn’t noticed before that he had a gun. She shivered but tried valiantly to hold his gaze.
‘No one but myself ever ventures into the forest.’ Darius’s voice was low and controlled.
Unsure of the message he was trying to convey, Hillary didn’t know how to respond. The whole scenario seemed unreal.
He continued to finger the rifle. ‘You’re not very well protected, are you?’
She wasn’t too sure what he meant by this either. Did he mean her clothing was inappropriate for trekking through forests, or what? She glanced down, her gaze following his as he flicked his eyes insolently over her body, which was barely covered by the halter top and tiny G-string. He was right, she wasn’t very well covered at all, not for anything other than the beach. Hastily she reached into her backpack intending to take out her towel and wrap it around herself – she had brought no other clothes.
Darius put out a hand as if to stop her. ‘No, don’t cover yourself up. You’re quite the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time.’
Hillary wasn’t sure that she liked being referred to as a thing but she smiled and nodded her acceptance of the intended compliment. Darius allowed a flicker of a smile to cross his own face, his eyes momentarily leaving her body to look straight at her. ‘It’s a shame you decided to cover your breasts.’ He glanced at her halter top and she felt herself flush with embarrassment, immediately wondering if he was her mystery man, the one who caressed her with such finesse as she lay in the sand dunes. She opened her mouth to ask but he interrupted her, his voice still low and filled with emotion. ‘Take it off, please.’ His gaze told her he was referring to her top.
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Page 6
