Abruptly, Juliette paused again as a sudden emptiness fanged within her. The kitten nestled against her, purring loudly and, as she stroked it, she suddenly felt a wild compulsion to go down into the garden. She did care about him, yes, of course she cared. How could she deny that? He was the most . . . she searched for a word ... yes, the most provocative man she had ever met. He wouldn't be in the garden by now, and she wanted to go there, to be where he had been, to walk where he had walked-she couldn't sleep anyway.
Traversing the length of the room and back again, she paused beside the tall poster bed. No, he wouldn't be there now. No one would wait so long for anyone, unless they were in love, and Brandon didn't love her, not really. He wasn't the type of man to care deeply about any woman. With men like him it was just the conquest that was important, and no doubt he had many. But of course she didn't love him either, she was far too sensible. Yet it would be lovely in the garden, she thought, and it is my last night here.
For a moment more she wavered. But then, her mind fixed on the obsession. She must go, if only for a short time. And not letting herself think further, she quickly donned a simple batiste gown with wide sleeves before twirling a light cloak around her shoulders. Then turning out her light, she ran silently from the room.
Chapter 34
In the garden a full moon reflected in shimmering silver off the rustling hibiscus and palm leaves as a breeze tossed them lightly. Pausing on the narrow path, Juliette tilted back her head to stare up at the moon. No, not even the moon looked the same, she thought. All at once it seemed more golden and perfect than ever before, its soft light seeming to reach within her and radiate a warm glow.
Soon, yes, day after tomorrow, she would be leaving for Switzerland. But she would never forget Las Flores del Mar, or the last few days. Nor could she deny that a part of her heart would remain here long after she had gone.
She walked on toward the center of the garden, the fountain's splashing growing louder as she approached. Then walking to its edge, she leaned so close tiny cold splatters hit her face and bare arms.
A gust of wind swayed the tops of the palm trees, tossing their fronds about for a brief moment before it grew still again. Then turning her back to the fountain Juliette scanned the garden surrounding her. It was deserted, and she sighed, her heart thudding painfully as unbidden tears filled her eyes until two droplets hung suspended on the sweep of her lashes.
She reached a hand to brush them away, and then pressed her lips in an effort to hold down a rush of emotion that threatened to consume her. But what if he had been here? Somehow that would have been so much worse, since, if he had come, how could she . . . could she have denied. . . .
She paused, not wanting to think further, and stiffened her spine. Well! Thank heaven she was leaving! In time she would forget him-certainly she would. Soon she would be exploring the Alps and meeting new people and Brandon Phillips would become only a pleasant memory instead of what he seemed now. She did care for him, yes, with the sort of fascination that schoolgirls had, but nothing more. What else could it be in so short a time? She shouldn't . . . she wouldn't take it seriously!
Again she sighed and looked up into the sky. The moon was diminished now by a mist across its face so it no longer smiled and was only a strange white light. Pulling her cloak closer then, she stepped away from the fountain and started back toward the hotel. But she had only walked a few steps when a movement in the shadows startled her.
Immediately she was poised for flight as a very tall shadow slid across the path and a figure emerged from the trees.
"So, you do keep bargains," he was saying, the deep timber of his voice sending a tingling dart up her spine.
He strode forward, high polished boots flashing like mirrors in the moonlight. "You seem surprised. Did you hope I wouldn't wait? Now tell me the truth, Juliette. Aren't you even a little glad I did?"
Juliette knew her face looked incredulous, and feeling an urge to run but knowing she couldn't possibly, she blurted out, "I haven't kept the bargain . . . I mean, I didn't think you would be here," as her feet backed away. "I didn't mean to come, really . . . not to meet you. I never thought you would wait. I. ..:"
He was beside her. "There are two things a man will wait for if they are cut deeply enough, Cherie, revenge and love. And since you are here. ..."
Suddenly she was in his arms; molded hard against his body, his dark eyes reaching deep to draw her very soul toward him before his mouth covered hers in a burning kiss. She didn't expect it, not this compelling passion, this primitive, this subterranean whirlpool of emotion that threatened to drown her now.
Her arms felt weak as she pushed against his thin silk shirt before, finally overwhelmed, she fell against him, yielding to the caress that explored and devoured her with consuming fierceness.
Juliette's mind reeled. She must get away, and yet it was impossible. Every inch of her was awakened, tingling with an inescapable delight. Over their heads a bird burst into brief song that echoed sweetly in the night.
"So now you are silent." He smiled. "Sometimes words are superfluous, but I would hear you say yes, Juliette. Yes to becoming my wife and you will make me a happy man." A hand brushed a curl-from her face. "We'll marry tomorrow. I've already made the arrangements."
At the word "marry" Juliette was startled out of her stupor. Her mouth rounded in astonishment. Again she pushed weakly against the hard curve of his chest.
"No . . . no, Brandon . . . you must be mad, or joking. Marriage is impossible. Let me go! And don't look at me like . . . like that."
"Like what, Cherie?" He laughed softly. "Do I have stars in my eyes? I feel as if I do. No. Now that you're here, I don't intend letting you escape. Tomorrow you will be my wife, will that be so horrible? Your heart beats with a strength that suggests you might enjoy more than my arms around you and a few kisses."
Aware that indeed her pulse was flying like the beat of wings, Juliette rallied her forces, straightening against his arm as she said, "Brandon, you know it is impossible. I don't want to marry anyone . . . even you ... I.."
The force of his tightening arm interrupted her. "All this talk is foolishness, Juliette! I swear I love you as I have no other woman. Can you deny you care-that you want me?"
"No, but . . ." she faltered.
"Then why must you make difficult what is so simple? Marry me! Be my wife!"
His voice, his strength, his very presence compelled her surrender while her thoughts were confused as the scattered pieces of a difficult puzzle. Within his embrace nothing else mattered. How she wanted to say yes. But something kept her from that fatal word, and instead she repeated, "Brandon, I can't. Please. Haven't I told you before? Why must you be so . . . so ..:"
"Entangling?" he chided, "or complicating? Juliette, Juliette." His black brows drew together in a frown. "Was ever a woman more stubborn? What must a man do to win you?"
His arms shifted in a swift movement and she found herself lifted like a child and again his mouth took possession of hers. He was gentle, encouraging her response, which she gave in spite of herself as his lips explored her and sensations raced beneath her flesh, gathering in fiery circles in her breasts and between her thighs in a wonderful frightening ache. And when he finally pulled away, his mouth remaining only an inch above hers, Juliette was dimly aware that her lips were trembling.
"Say yes, chérie," he whispered. "I will make you happy-happier than you are now, though you are too innocent to know it."
Juliette felt out of breath, engulfed by the commanding strength of his arms, the hardness of his chest, the overpowering command of his will. Everything had narrowed down to him. There was no escape as his look penetrated her again, "Say yes, Cherie-now, before I am driven mad!"
The note of desperation in his impassioned voice broke Juliette's last power to resist. Suddenly, in the entire world, only this man existed. Nothing else mattered; all else was, for the moment, forgotten. She nodded, first weakly, and then
with greater assurance.
"Yes . . . yes," it seemed someone else said in a soft shaking voice. "I will be . . . be your wife."
She felt his arms tighten around her as his face flooded with pleasure. She had done it, she had promised, but it didn't seem even slightly real, only words in a vast ocean of pleasure. What did words matter when he made her feel like this? Then his lips were on hers again, and this time Juliette offered no resistance.
Brandon's senses throbbed. Never had he wanted a woman so intensely, and never had one dared put him off as Juliette had. His need to possess her had grown ravenous. He had come here planning to take her to the Black Hawk. But now his decision wavered. At last she had consented to be his wife, and holding her surrendering body and seeing her angelic face turned up to his as it was now, his frustration took on a new dimension of gentler feelings, those still unfamiliar feelings which only Juliette evoked, and which drew him to her like a child reaching for a fascinating new treasure.
Forcefully he curbed his desires then, and moving his hands to her shoulders, held her away from him. Hungrily his gaze roved over her bright hair, her parted lips, and her limpid loving eyes, before dropping to where her breasts rose and fell beneath the tormenting sheer material.
Not yet-not now, he thought, taking a new grip on himself. To take her now might always flaw her feelings for him. Tonight he would let her go, but tomorrow night-tomorrow night all the waiting would be over. And imagining the infinite pleasure of having Juliette willing and desiring in his arms made it possible to let her go one last night.
Chapter 85
Dearest Brandon,
I call you dearest because you are dearer to me than anything else in the world besides my own cherished independence.
Please forgive me when I tell you I cannot be your wife. Last night was beautiful, the most exquisite and moving experience of my life. However, being impetuous, as you know I am, I promised more than I can ever keep.
Please understand if you can. I have the special opportunity to be as completely free as I have always dreamed of being, and I cannot give that up.
I know you must think me a fool and perhaps you are right. But I am determined to remain unmarried for a very long time to come.
My fondest regards, now and always, Juliette
P.S. If you wish, please meet me for tea on the terrace at four o'clock.
After setting down her pen, and rereading the note, Juliette sealed it in an envelope and rang for a steward. Then, taking the packet in her hands, she lightly ran her fingertips over its edges as she walked to look out the window.
There was no blue sky this morning; only depressing gray clouds formed a thick ceiling as far as she could see. Since dawn it had been raining large cold droplets that splattered against the glass before running down like tears.
Wasn't it inevitable that her determination be tested? She asked herself. Hadn't she already learned that life required certain sacrifices? If she wanted to be independent, then she must give up the prolonged attentions of any one male. There could be no wavering. Falling in love was out of the question. She had experienced a certain fascination for Brandon Phillips, nothing more. It had been a valuable lesson, and in the future she would know better how to avoid emotional entrapments.
Still, there was a pang in her conscience at the knowledge that she had promised, even if under pressure, even if she never intended to promise. It was the first promise she could ever remember breaking, but lifting her chin with a sniff, she quickly pushed this thought out of her mind.
She had been a fool last night, but it had been his fault, too. Why was he always making her do what he wanted, always manipulating her and thinking only of his own desires? Just what kind of man was he always to corner her to be so forceful? Maybe a rejection would be just what he deserved, and yet. . . .
There was a knock on the door, and opening it she found a steward holding another bouquet of flowers, this one being so large and elaborate it nearly eclipsed the blue capped man.
Obviously Rodney was trying to apologize for his behavior yesterday, she thought, as the man said, "Flowers, miss."
"Yes, I see. Thank you. If you would put them on the table, please."
The steward complied before giving her a quick bow. "Will that be all, miss?"
"There is one more thing-could you see that this letter reaches Monsieur Phillips?"
Juliette felt awkward, suddenly realizing she couldn't say where Brandon was staying. Indeed she had promised herself to someone whose address she didn't even know.
Imperceptibly, she shuddered.
"You do know where he is staying, don't you?" she inquired holding the envelope toward him and relieved to see him nod.
"Yes, miss. The villa along the cliffs south of the hotel. I know the one."
"Good. I'll leave it to you." Juliette pressed several pesetas in his hand and again he bowed and turned down the hall.
Quietly, Juliette closed the door behind him, feeling apprehensive as she walked to smell the roses and touch their shiny leaves.
She had sent the letter. There was no going back now, and something within her stiffened. What would Brandon's reaction be? She hadn't completely considered that. Certainly he was not one to take rejection easily, and there could be a scene.
Agitatedly she rearranged the long-stemmed roses in their large Venetian vase. Oh, why couldn't he be more like Rodney, never pushing her, always being patient, and always sending her these lovely flowers.
Yes, if she ever married anyone it would be dear dependable Rodney. He was always such fun, like a brother she never had. And there were never any of these complications, these feelings that so upset her and made her do and say things she did not intend. Anyway, hadn't she promised she would marry Rodney if she married anyone?
"Ouch!"
She pulled her hand out of the bouquet and popped it in her mouth where a thorn pricked her finger. Then her eyes enlarged as she saw a jade box hidden among the roses. These flowers weren't from Rodney, she suddenly realized, but from Brandon.
Quickly she took the box in hand and lifted the lid, drawing a breath as the light revealed a ruby ring on a pedestal of velvet, an elegant heart-shaped ruby that danced with unearthly brightness from its refracting depths.
Wonderingly she lifted it out and, without thinking, slipped it on her hand, holding it up and spreading her fingers. It fit perfectly, as if sized for her alone. But in spite of its beauty, the weight sent a shiver up her arm, and abruptly, she slipped it off, noticing as she did the inscription on the inner side.
"Beloved," she whispered aloud. Her heart swelled and then beat with a wretched pain. And seeing now there was also a note, she reached for it with trembling hands, unfolding it to read;
Dear Juliette,
'This ring comes to you with all my love, my heart, and my very life given once and for all into your keeping. Two weeks ago I didn't know what love was. But in you I have found a new meaning for life-my sweetest angel, my fragrant rose of beauty, my lovely wayward child. You have brought a new fragrance into my life, a peace to my soul, and a love into my heart that will keep me yours forever.
Your devoted lover now and through all eternity.
Brandon
In the deep comfort of a leather chair within his private study, Brandon puffed on a pipe of fine English tobacco as he looked out the wide-flung windows where rain was falling lightly.
Rain, he mused. In the desert it was considered a fortunate sign of life, of the earth replenishing itself, of the coming of spring, and of birth and rebirth. It pleased him that his wedding day would be a rainy one, and the weather would not interfere with, his plans.
Already he had prepared for a discreet ceremony on board the Black Hawk. There would be a reception later, and then, before anyone had recovered from the shock of Juliette's speedy marriage, he would have whisked her away.
By waiting this way he was losing another precious day when he should already be sailing, but if t
he winds were favorable, he could make up the distance and intercept the guns en route. Lightning flashed through the sky. From across the ocean came distant thunder. A light breeze blew the fresh rainy fragrance into the room. "Juliette," Brandon whispered recalling an Arabic poem,
Reason is powerless in the face of love. Love is the truth.
Allah is never seen. But the vision of him in woman is most perfect of all.
An hour passed before he left his private sanctum and, walking into the hallway, he found an envelope set out for his inspection which was addressed in a round girlish hand.
Brandon had never seen Juliette's handwriting, but immediately he guessed it was hers.
What had she to say? he wondered while breaking the seal-words of love, no doubt, of thanks for his gift. And withdrawing the paper, he read. Brandon had always considered Juliette unpredictable a trait not lacking in charm. But he found nothing charming about this! On the contrary, his eyes hardened as they traveled down the page, and after reading the last line, he crushed the paper in his fist.
Desert Hostage Page 23
