Emerging from the forests they came to a long winding drive which led to the homestead. Set in a cleft between the folds of two wooded hills, Kelly thought the house one of the loveliest she had ever seen. It was long and low, with great picture windows which sparkled like polished diamonds where the sun caught the glass, and creepers which trailed and climbed in a soaring thrust towards the thatched roof. Kelly saw that the house had been built so that the view from the main windows was into the mountains. She thought of Nicholas sitting in the late afternoon on the patio, relaxing after the work of the day, with a dog by his side and a glass of cold beer in his hand. She could imagine him looking towards the mountains, watching the colours of the sunset turn the high peaks from scarlet to gold and at last to a mysterious shade that was somewhere between yellow and grey. The picture was vivid, and for no reason at all a lump formed in her throat.
Then a new figure entered the picture: Serena.
Poised and cool and beautiful, in a chair by Nicholas's side, listening as he told her all that happened that day. And added to the lump in Kelly's throat came a dull pain beneath her ribs which was becoming all too familiar.
There was no time to brood, for already Nicholas was leading her across a thick carpet of lawn towards the wide stone steps that led on to the patio.
Just as the house was the very antithesis of Kelly's idea of a bachelor's domain, so she imagined the rooms would be different too. That they would be well furnished she expected—Nicholas Van Mijden was a man who would never be content with second best—but she was curious to discover the actual nature of his tastes. When he asked if she would like a tour of the house she accepted with alacrity. Just for a moment the grey eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and it came to Kelly that he wanted her to see his home just as much as she wanted to see it. The reason was not hard to find. Nicholas was proud of his home. It would give him pleasure to let people see it—there could be nothing more to it than that. And yet the warmth lighting the dark eyes filled her with a breathless kind of happiness.
As they went from one room to another, Kelly saw how Nicholas had made the most of the house and its setting. Lovely Persian rugs were scattered on the polished oak floor, and much of the furniture was antique. The woods were African, stinkwood and teak and a fine-grained mahogany, each piece with a sheen which indicated love and care and pride of possession.
In contrast, the curtains and cushions were light-coloured and modern, well chosen to blend quite naturally with the dark woods, brightening the rooms and giving them a sense of space and colour appropriate to the rustic mountain setting.
'Well?' Nicholas asked from behind her, when Kelly turned from admiring a Pierneef landscape that dominated one wide wall, gracing the dining- room with the master painter's touch.
'It's all so beautiful.' Her voice was low, and she wondered if he could hear her breathlessness. She wanted to ask if someone had helped in the furnishing of the house—Serena perhaps?—but it was a question she could not frame, not when he stood so near to her that she was aware of every inch of the virile male body.
'I'm glad.' He spoke very simply. For once there was neither mockery nor amusement in his expression. Just a deepening of the satisfaction which she had glimpsed a little earlier. That in itself was no cause for notice, and yet, inexplicably, the adrenalin shot through her nerve-stream.
'Want to see more?' A hint of teasing.
The master bedroom—it could only be that. She wanted to see it so badly that she had to conceal her eyes beneath long dark lashes, for otherwise their expression would have been fatally easy to read. No, was what she should have said. It was the only correct reply in the circumstances. But sometimes, particularly when one's heartbeat is doing funny things inside one's chest, words have a trick of coming out differently from the way they should.
'Yes,' she said simply.
CHAPTER TEN
THE room was large. It was also simply but tastefully furnished. Kelly did not take in the actual objects in the room so much as the atmosphere. It was basic and strong and male, much like its owner. Even while her senses assimilated the overall impression, another thought came to mind—without much difficulty the bedroom could be adapted into one which a woman would enjoy sharing.
As if to erase the thought, Kelly shook her head. The movement did not escape Nicholas.
'You don't like the room, Kelly?' His voice was very soft. To Kelly's fevered imagination it seemed to hold a deep undercurrent of meaning.
'Like?' She turned to him, unaware that her eyes were naked with the rawness of her emotions. 'Oh, yes!'
'Kelly...' He had taken a step towards her. His eyes were very dark, a tiny muscle worked in his jaw, and his long limbs seemed tauter than she had ever seen them.
Did she meet him half-way? Later she could not have put into words what happened. There was just the meeting of two bodies, the soft feminine one crushed against the hardness of the tall male one, and as he kissed her time ceased to have any meaning. His lips were hard and demanding, but in place of the punishment she had experienced on occasion there was a passion which indicated the depth of his desire. His hands were light and tantalising, strong and sensual, all at the same time, caressing and exploring and moulding her to him.
Kelly was swept by a torrent of desire that was stronger than anything she had ever known. There was no thought now, no moralising on what was right and what was wrong. There was just the wish, which superseded all else, to be close to this man, ever closer, part of him ... There was no thought as she slid her arms beneath his shirt. There was just glory in the feel of the muscles which tightened beneath her fingers, in the knowledge that she wanted him.
She did not protest as he lifted her on to the bed. With an unsuspected tenderness he took the clothes from her body, and then began to undress himself. His eyes never left her face. He did not ask any questions. None were needed; the longing in her eyes spoke for itself.
As he came towards her she reached out her arms. Her lips were parted to reveal tiny white teeth against the apricot tan of her skin, and a pulse beat a feverish tattoo in the little hollow at the base of her throat. Her breasts were firm and round, and she made no attempt to cover them with her hands. There yas no embarrassment, no thought of shame. There was only the knowledge that she loved Nicholas. If there was also the knowledge that she could have no future with him, she did not dwell on it consciously. There was only the desire to be with him as a woman is with the man she loves more than life itself.
'Kelly.' The word emerged in the form of a groan. Coming from this strong and self-sufficient man the sound was strangely moving. 'Kelly, do you know what you're doing to me?'
'Yes..." No more than a whisper.
'You're so lovely.' He sank down on to the bed and gathered her to him. His hands moved over her shoulders, her back, her hips, moulding her un- resistant body to his.
He began to kiss her again, his lips a sweet torture against eyes and throat and breasts. Her nostrils were filled with the smell of his maleness, and each one of her senses was vibrantly alive.
'There can be no turning back,' he said once, lifting his head.
'I know.' Only dimly was she aware of the possible consequences of their lovemaking. Her senses had taken over her body, destroying the last vestiges of any resistance, but that did not seem to matter.
'Kelly ...' This time the voice was huskier than before. 'If only you knew how I..
A loud ringing invaded the room, shocking, somehow obscene. It took a second for Kelly to understand that it was the ring of the telephone.
'Damn!' Nicholas swore quietly.
'Don't answer...' An unashamed plea.
The telephone rang once more, unheeded, as a rough hand caressed a smooth shoulder. Then Nicholas lifted himself away from her. 'I must. It must be urgent for Joshua to put the call through.'
Kelly lay rigid on the bed and watched as he cradled the receiver to his ear. His breathing was still a little ragged, and she was s
o close to him thatshe imagined she could hear the quickened beat of his heart. But his tone was terse and clipped, so that the person at the other end of the line could have had no idea of what he had interrupted.
'Kelly, I'm needed ...' The conversation ended, he replaced the phone and looked down at the small feminine figure.
'Nicholas, I ... Can't ...' She paused, uncertain and unhappy, the words refusing to come.
'Perhaps it's better this way.' The mobile lips curved wryly, and there was a strange tenderness in the eyes which studied the flushed oval face. A hand touched a breast, lingering fleetingly before trailing a path up the slender column of the throat. Kelly held her breath, the sensual touch giving her an exquisite pleasure which transcended all need for words.
'Maybe the call was providential.' The huskiness in his voice gave the lie to his smile. 'I couldn't have stopped, Kelly. You know that.'
Through a blur of pain she watched him get dressed. The telephone had prevented him from making love to her fully. He was glad, Kelly thought, he had said almost as much. It was only a thoughtless intimacy which had provoked his emotions to blind passion. But he did not want her, not really. Now that he had a few moments to reflect on what had happened he was clear about that, whereas she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
'I'm needed at the mill.' His breathing had quietened. 'Would you like to come with me, or would you rather relax in the garden for a while?'
She had pulled the sheet over her. For the timeless moments when only passion had existed, there had been no embarrassment. Now she did not want him to see her unclothed. 'If you wait for me I'll come along.' She tried to make her voice as casual as his. Not for anything should he guess at the turmoil raging within her. 'The mill is part of the general tour, isn't it?'
An enigmatic expression appeared in his eyes. Perhaps he guessed at her pain, yet was glad that she would regard what had happened as no more than the interlude it had been meant to be.
'Get dressed,' he said quietly. 'I'll wait for you on the patio.'
What were his thoughts as he waited? Kelly wondered, as she showered in the chocolate-tiled bathroom before slipping into her clothes. Did he see her as a girl without any morals? A girl who enjoyed taking her fun behind her fiance's back? If he did, it would not surprise him. Nicholas's opinion of her had been low from the start. He had seen her only as a spoiled parasite who had bribed a man in order to fulfil a whim. He had taken pleasure in getting her to work off a debt, never dreaming that she gained an enormous satisfaction from what she did. This new evidence of her character would merely strengthen his views.
Even with Gary's ring on her finger Kelly had not been prepared to share a room with him. Yet she had yearned to experience Nicholas's lovemaking to the fullest. The reason for this was simple, but Nicholas would never know it. For she could not tell him that she loved him, nor that she understood for the first time how a woman could be stirred to a point where reasoning took second place to emotion.
This was a love which she had never experienced with Gary. Had she not decided to end her engagement because she could no longer accept the immature aspects of her fiance's nature, Kelly knew that she would in any case have had to change her mind about marrying him. What she had once felt for Gary was no more than infatuation for a man who was totally different from the people who moved in her father's world of high finance.
Her feelings for Nicholas were on another level altogether. Though there could be no future with him, she did not regret the time at Great Peaks. For she knew now that she was a woman in every sense of the word and that it was in her to love very deeply. For some reason that was important. She would never see Nicholas again—there was no way she would revisit this part of the Drakensberg to reopen a wound whose rawness she could only hope would lessen with time—yet Kelly knew that where- ever life might take her, she would never forget the magic days when she had crossed the threshold into emotional womanhood.
She came on to the patio and found him waiting for her. His back was to the doorway, and he was staring over the pine-covered slopes of the plantation. And then he turned, and there was a remoteness in his eyes before which she froze.
When he had dealt with the situation in the sawmill, an important one which revealed to Kelly how much he had sacrificed in giving up his time to supervise the running of the hotel, Nicholas showed her around. Everywhere there was activity, and the men who worked in the mill were openly glad to see him. The sawmill was well run, its operations efficient, each man understood his function. Yet all looked to Nicholas for direction. It was as if he gave a focus to their working lives. As he was fast becoming the focus of her own life, Kelly thought.
Throughout he was polite. Kelly could not fault him on that. A stranger might even have thought him friendly. But the remoteness never left his manner. To Kelly, who had shared moments of the closest sensual intimacy with this man, the remoteness was more painful than all his previous mockery and contempt had been.
She was almost glad when they returned at last to Great Peaks Lodge. She had had such high hopes for this day. For a short time it had even seemed as if she would experience an ecstasy greater than anything she had ever imagined. And then suddenly, inexplicably, the magic of the day was gone, and in its place was a numbing emptiness.
Had she done something wrong? she wondered. Had she offended him in some way? Twice she parted dry lips to ask him a question. But a glance at his profile, detached and a little forbidding, stifled the words before they were uttered.
Serena was at Great Peaks for dinner that evening. Kelly did not know if she had been invited by Nicholas or if he was surprised by her coming. Even without the presence of the cool poised beauty the meal would have been a strain. But with Serena atthe table, claiming and receiving Nicholas's undivided attention, it would be unbearable. Kelly had no qualms about excusing herself from dinner. She had had a long day at Pinevale, she said, and was tired. She would have an early night.
At mention of Pinevale Serena's glance went quickly to Nicholas. For the first time she looked uncertain of herself. But Kelly gained no satisfaction from what was only a very minor and, in the circumstances, meaningless victory. Her head was aching as she walked through the scent-filled garden to the cottage.
For a while she lay on the Andersons' big double bed. The light was off and as she stared through the open window she tried very hard to relax, a difficult feat when just a little distance away, in the candlelit intimacy of the dining-room, Serena was enchanting Nicholas with her loveliness. What would that woman say if she knew of the scene in the bedroom at Pinevale? Kelly wondered. Would she mind very much? Would she ache with a pain that knifed beneath the ribs and throbbed at the temples?—a pain which Kelly was beginning to know too well. The thought was an idle one. Nicholas would never tell his bride-to-be what had happened. Apart from the fact that he would not want tq, disturb Serena, there was no reason for him to mention an incident which had been of no importance to him.
The breeze which wafted in through the window did not lessen the heat in the room. Kelly moved restlessly on the bed. Though she was not tired in a physical sense, she wanted very much to sleep. Sleep would block out thought, it would block out the turmoil of emotion which she had never imagined when she left Gary and his friends in Estcourt to return to Great Peaks Lodge.
How differently things had turned out from the way she had planned them, she mused wryly. Helping out at Great Peaks had been an unexpected development, but it had been one to which she had quickly adjusted. Falling in love was something else altogether. This she had not anticipated, had not wanted—still did not want. She had not yet found a way of coping with the event which had changed her world so that it would never be quite the same again. She wondered now if she ever would.
Impatient all at once, she left the bed and went out of the cottage. Outside the air was aromatic and cool. Save for the ceaseless hum of the crickets it was very still. As she walked thr
ough the quiet garden, Kelly felt a little of the tension draining from her.
Silently she moved between the dark shapes of the trees, her footfalls deadened by the thickness of the grass. She saw Nicholas quite suddenly. There was no mistaking the broad shoulders and the tall well-built body; the tilt of the head and the thrust of the throat. There was no mistaking her own instinctive reaction, the tightening of her muscles and the instant leaping of her senses. Pride forgotten— what did it matter if Serena had had dinner with him?—Kelly stepped quickly forwards. And then, just as suddenly, she checked the movement.
For Nicholas was not alone. The breadth of his shoulders had blocked the vision of someone else, but now that person had moved just a little, and Kelly saw the white folds of a dress brush against the long male trouser-legs.
She stood still as a statue. Through the quiet air came the sound of Serena's voice, brittle and not as poised as she remembered it, and then the low answering tone of the man with whom she stood. Kelly could not hear their actual words, and did not want to. She wanted only to leave the scene before they saw her. She would have fled if her limbs had not been suddenly robbed of the power of movement.
As she watched, Nicholas bent his head, and two slender arms came up to clasp themselves behind his neck. Kelly choked back an involuntary sob. Blood surged back through her limbs. As the couple not more than a few yards from her clung together in an embrace, she vanished, like a wounded animal, away through the trees.
Kelly's Man Page 13
