'It's not the young man who's been in to see you,' she told her. 'This one's older, but just as dishy!' It was the
same young nurse who had found Clifford so attractive and she eyed Tara enviously. 'I said you were lucky!'
Tara smoothed down her frock and put a tentative hand to the plaster that now decorated her forehead in place of the bandage, wishing it had been anyone but Philip who had come for her. It was idiotic to feel so shy and nervous of seeing him again, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Philip was waiting for her in the corridor, and he took Tara's suitcase from the nurse with only a brief word of greeting, but giving her a long steady look from his black eyes that caused the young nurse's brows to rise in comment. 'Shall we go?' he asked in his deep, quiet voice, and gave the young nurse a smile of thanks that sent her hurrying, bright-eyed, into the main ward.
Their footsteps swished along the lino-covered passage and Tara could think of nothing to say to him as she walked silently beside him, haLf afraid of shattering the stillness. It was the first time she had seen Philip since the night of the crash, and it gave her a strangely excited feeling to be with him again, although so far he had not even asked how she was feeling.
Suddenly, however, he turned to her as they went through the swing glass doors into the sun, his brief study of her almost critical. 'How are you feeling?' he asked, and Tara smiled.
'Not too bad, thank you, PhiHp.'
Outside the sun was bright and warm after the coolness of the hospital corridors, and Tara blinked in its
brightness. It was good to be out and about again, but she was not very happy with the uncommunicative mood of her escort. It was unlike Philip to be surly and yet she would have said that aptly described his present mood, and she wondered if he resented coming for her.
'It - it was good of you to come for me,' she ventured as they went down the steps to the hospital car park.
Philip's hand was under her arm, offering solicitous help, and her senses responded to his touch in a way that appalled her. Apparently nothing had changed in the three days she had been in hospital; he could still have that same disturbing effect on her. He smiled slowly, looking at her from the corners of his eyes as he opened the car door for her, and saw her in.
'I was already in town,' he told her quietly. 'I'm simply killing two birds with one stone.'
'Oh, I see. I - I just wondered why Clifford hadn't come.'
A raised brow recognized her disappointment. 'He didn't much like being left behind,' he told her quietly, 'but he does still listen to me sometimes, and there really wasn't much point in his coming too.'
Tara looked at him, her eyes wide and guileless in her pale face, wondering just how true it was that he was in Midlipp anyway. 'Have you got a works in Midlipp too?' she asked.
Philip slammed the door on her and walked around to his own side before he answered. 'I sometimes have business in Midlipp,' he said. His sleeve brushed
against her bare arm as he slid into the driving seat and the warmth and intimacy of his nearness left her undecided whether she was glad or sorry that it was he who had come for her and not Clifford.
'You thought I'd come specially to fetch you?' The black eyes were turned briefly on her, challenging her to deny it, and Tara shrugged uneasily.
'I don't know,' she confessed.
'Well, I didn't, we have a small agency office here and I happened to be visiting it today,' he informed her. 'It was no trouble to pick you up on my way home.'
'Thank you.'
Her demure reply seemed to arouse his suspicions and he spared her a brief glance as he drove out of the car park and picked up the main stream of traffic out of MidUpp. 'Disappointed?' he asked softly.
Tara shivered with the depth of meaning in the one word question, and hastily denied it. 'No, of course I'm not!' she told him firmly.
A surreptitious glance from under her lashes showed he was smiling. One of those slow, enigmatic smiles that made her feel uneasy and wary of him. 'I suppose I could have let Clifford come with me to fetch you,' he said. 'But I wondered if you'd fancy travelling with him again so soon, even if he wasn't driving.'
'I'd feel perfectly safe driving with Cliff, even if he was at the wheel,' Tara told him firmly, and he laughed shortly.
'You're very loyal,' he said, with a hint of a jeer, 'I'll say that for you!' He cast her a brief telling glance.
no
'And what's more, you're just crazy enough to mean it!'
'Of course I mean it!' Tara declared.
It was too bad of him, she thought, to behave as he was when she could remember so clearly how gentle and comforting he had been on the night of the accident. The gentle, consoling voice and the arms that had enfolded her so reassuringly.
He had kissed her too, she remembered vaguely, although not as disturbingly as she knew his kiss could be. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she started almost guiltily when he spoke again.
'You're unlikely to have a chance to prove it one way or the other for quite some time,' he informed her. 'For one thing his car's out of action, and for another he'll probably lose his licence for a time, after he's been to court.'
Tara looked at him reproachfully. 'You don't have to sound so much as if you hope he does lose his licence,' she said. 'It could have happened to anyone in the same circumstances. Even you,' she added with malice aforethought.
'Oh no, not to me,' he argued quietly. 'I don't take chances with my own neck, I certainly wouldn't take any with the girl I professed to be in love with.'
'Well, I'm sure Mrs. Owen-Bragg would be relieved to hear you say so,' Tara retorted rashly, and held her breath as she waited for the expected storm to break.
He did not lose his temper, but she saw the taut lines that appeared at the corners of his mouth, and the stem line of his brows above the glitter of the black eyes. 'You
appear to be extremely well informed about my affairs, as Clifford sees them,' he said then, so quietly she took warning from his quietness.
It was obvious he held back a temper only with incredible self-control. She could feel the tension in him close beside her and the long hands on the steering wheel were bone white at the knuckles as he swung the car round another twist in the road with uncharacteristic abandon.
'I'm sorry, Philip,' Tara began. 'I—'
'I assume Clifford's your informant,' he interrupted, ignoring her apology. 'I can't imagine my grandmother regaling you with such personal gossip, and I don't think you'd stoop to discussing me with the servants!'
'PhiUp!*
'Did he also inform you that I was with Mrs. Owen-Bragg on Monday night?' he asked, in the same chilling voice. 'I seem to remember that there wasn't time for the social niceties. You weren't introduced.'
'No one told me, I guessed.' Tara felt about two inches high and slid further down in her seat. He had every right to feel resentment, she supposed in the circumstances, but she wished he need not be quite so chilling in his condemnation.
'Having heard all about her from Clifford on previous occasions, I suppose,' he said, and went on without waiting for confirmation. 'He gossips like an old woman, and you listen to him!'
There was an edge of steel on that quiet and beautiful voice and Tara felt herself suddenly wanting to cry.
Her head was beginning to ache and she felt slightly dizzy, no doubt due to getting so worked up. It was not a happy homecoming, with Phihp so out of temper with her, and Clifford hkely to be in serious trouble with the law, and she put a hand to her throbbing forehead in a gesture of despair.
Philip must have caught the gesture from the corner of his eye, for he turned his head swiftly, and immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road, turning in his seat to look at her anxiously. 'Tara! Are you all right?'
Tara bit her Up, trying to stem the threatening tears. 'I'm all right,' she said, in a husky voice. 'My head just aches a bit, that's all.'
'And you look pale and
tearful.' He reached out a hand and laid it on her forehead, the movement bringing him intimately close, his strong fingers cool on her throbbing temple. 'And I'm yelKng at you!'
'You are,' Tara agreed ruefully in an unsteady voice. 'But I suppose I asked for it - in a way.'
'Did you?' To her surprise he laughed softly, and she looked at him with her eyes huge and dark with reproach in her small pale face. 'I'm sorry, Tara,' he said contritely, his black eyes warm and gentle.
His strong brown fingers brushed the hair back from her forehead and her face, lingeringly sensual on the softness of her neck. Then he lifted her chin with one hand and smiled down at her, using his handkerchief to smooth away the tears from her cheeks. He studied her intently for several seconds before he spoke, close enough for his breath to warm her lips.
"3
'You're not well enough to be out yet,' he told her softly. 'You look like a pale, pathetic little ghost, and so soulful and big-eyed. I should have made them keep you in the hospital for at least another day or two.'
'Oh no!' Tara begged breathlessly, half fearing he might turn about and take her back to the hospital. 'I don't like hospitals, Philip!'
'My dear child, no one does,' he smiled. 'But you should have stayed there for another day or two for your own good.'
'Oh, but I'll be much better at Fairwinds,' Tara insisted. 'And I'm perfectly all right, Philip, hon-esdy.'
One hand still cupped her chin, the soft fleshy ball of the thumb rubbing gently against her cheek and playing havoc with her self-control. He shook his head, determined to differ, it seemed. 'You're not all right,' he argued. 'You're much too pale and trembly.' He smiled slowly. 'Also it wouldn't have done Clifford any harm to worry about you for a bit longer.'
'Oh, PhiUp!' She looked at him reproachfully. 'You can't mean that!' But he could mean it, she realized, even while she was denying it. He had an innate streak of cruelty that showed itself at times like this, and he wanted to see Clifford made to pay for his moment of carelessness. 'Now I see why you wanted me to stay in for so long! You're - you're an unfeeling brute! You'd not only make me stay in that wretched hospital when I hate it so much, but you'd make poor Cliff worry about me more than he need! Oh, you - you—'
She was trembling with anger and a dozen other
inexplicable emotions, all of which made her head ache more than ever. 'Don't get so excited!' he told her. 'You know it makes your head ache, Tara. It isn't good for you.'
'As if you care!' Tara declared, angrily tearful. He was much too close for comfort, and turned in his seat as he was, she was in close and intimate contact with him. His lean warmth emanated a sense of excitement that sent her pulses racing wildly and she was trembling from head to toe.
'I suppose you saw it as an excellent chance with me out of the way for a while,' she said in a shaky voice, 'to put pressure on Cliff to join your - your wretched firm!'
Philip smiled slowly, one finger tracing the line of her neck from chin to shoulder. 'Now you're being siUy!'
He sounded so tolerant and reasonable that it made her more angry than ever. 'I'm not being silly!' she denied. 'I just wish - oh, why did it have to be you that came for me!' She put a hand to her aching head, hating herself for reacting the way she did to that blood-stirring excitement he exuded. 'I wish - oh, my head's aching so much I could cry! I wish—'
'I wish,' Philip echoed softly and, before she realized his intent, he pulled her close into his arms, his face resting on the softness of her hair while one hand smoothed over her head in a movement at once soothing and exciting. She could feel the strong steady beat of his heart under her right ear and she closed her eyes slowly. 'Be careful, my beautiful,' his soft voice
whispered above her head, 'or you'll make us both sorry that I came for you.'
Tara snuggled in his arms, revelling in the strength of them, in the warmth of the lean body through a silk shirt. Her heart was skipping like a wild thing while she clung to him, uncaring about anything but the sense of reassurance and comfort he gave her. Then suddenly she raised her head and surprised an expression in his black eyes that made her catch her breath.
'Philip!'
Her voice sounded soft and husky and she knew she should not have looked up at that particular minute. It as too late now, however, for his mouth was already on hers, hard and fierce and arousing sensations in her that she could not even attempt to recognize.
His arms were so tight about her that he seemed to be trying to crush her against the lean hardness of his own body, and it seemed as if hours passed before he let her go. Then his rejection of her was so sudden and so harsh that she was still trying to realize it had happened when he turned round swiftly again in his seat and jabbed one thumb on the starter with an almost vicious fierceness.
Tara stared at him through the thickness of her lashes, a finger to her tingling mouth, not saying a word, but with her emotions in chaos. Not for anything would she have blamed him, either for that disturbing kiss or for his sudden, almost bitter rejection of her. It had happened and she sought no reason for it, only wished she could decide whether she should regret her own response to him or not.
'I should apologize,' Philip said, after what seemed like an interminable time, and she could scarcely believe that a small, tight smile just touched his mouth as he looked straight ahead at the winding road.
'Or perhaps I should,' she suggested huskily, not altogether happy about that smile.
'I doubt if Clifford would blame you,' he said shortly. 'But he trusts me enough not to expect me to poach on his preserves.'
'His preserves!' Tara echoed bitterly. 'You make me sound like a - a property!'
'I didn't intend it to sound like that,' he said quietly. 'But you are engaged to Clifford, and he is my brother.'
'Your younger brother!' Tara jibed, and hated herself for the taunt the moment it was on her lips.
Surprisingly he was not angry. 'I'd never thought of you as bitchy,' he said softly, and Tara stared at him in dismay.
'Oh, I never know where I am with you, Philip!' she cried despairingly. 'My head aches and I'm confused and tired. All I want is to go back to Fairwinds and-'
'Pack?' he suggested softly, and Tara stared at him for a breathless moment in anxious silence.
'Is - is that what you expect me to do?' she asked. It was unbelievable that he could be so willing for her to just pack up and leave when there was a very good chance that Clifford would go too if she did.
'I'm hoping you won't,' Philip said. 'But you sounded as if that was what was in your mind.'
Tm not sure what's in my mind/ Tara confessed. 'I don't know whether I'm on my head or my heek at the moment.'
'My fault?' he asked, soft-voiced, and Tara hastily looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.
'Partly,' she agreed, drawing her bare arm as far away as she could from contact with him. Even the occasional brushing against his sleeve was enough to remind her of how easily he could make her forget everything, even ClifTord. 'You're not really fair, Philip!'
There was an almost childish note of complaint in her voice and she saw the way he smiled, glancing at her over one shoulder as he turned the car along the last stretch of road to Fairwinds. 'Poor little Tara!' he said softly. 'I really should have left you in the hospital for another few days, shouldn't I?'
'No, you shouldn't,' Tara denied swiftly. 'And I doubt if even you could have laid down the law to that extent, anyway. You're not a doctor I'
'No,' Philip agreed quietly, 'but I am on the hospital board, and that carries some weight.'
'Oh!' She looked startled, seeing the reason for that easily obtained private room at last. 'I didn't know that.'
He laughed softly. 'There are lots of things you don't know about me,' he promised, and Tara wondered why he was amused enough to laugh.
'You should have let Cliff come and fetch me,' she told him, as he turned the car into the drive at Fair-winds. 'I wish you had.'
'I wa5 ho
ping I could have come for you, darling/ Clifford told her that same evening, and Tara pulled a face.
'I wish you had,' she said, without going into her reasons, and Clifford looked at her curiously.
'You're not still wary of Philip, are you?' he asked, and she hastily shook her head.
'Not exactly,' she said. 'But he will treat me as if I'm a five-year-old moron, and he insisted I wasn't fit to come home.'
Clifford leaned across and kissed her, his fingers gentle against hei cheek. 'You do look pale, poor darling. I'm not sure you should be out of bed yet.'
'I'm perfectly all right,' Tara insisted. 'But I almost had to convince Philip that it wasn't necessary for him to turn straight round and take me back again.'
'Was he that set on keeping you in hospital?' Clifford asked, pulling a wry face. 'I know he said it wouldn't do you any harm to rest there for a bit.'
'The idea being that you'd worry about me and have a conscience, so I gathered,' Tara said, having no qualms about giving away Philip's suggestion, and Clifford stared at her for a moment, only half believing her, she thought.
'Did he actually say that?' he asked, and Tara nodded.
'He suggested that it wouldn't do you any harm to worry about me a bit longer,' she told him.
'Well,' he shrugged resignedly, 'I suppose he's right in a way. I was criminally negligent, driving as I did, and I still feel terribly guilty when I see you looking so
pale and with that plaster on your poor head.'
'Oh, please don't, Cliff! I don't blame you for it, honestly. It could have happened to anyone in the same circumstances.'
She had not told Clifford about her argument with Philip, if it was what could really have been called an argument. Certainly the outcome had been disturbing enough, and not something she could tell Clifford about. She drew a deep breath, trying to dismiss the memory of Philip's eyes in that brief, revealing moment before he kissed her, and smiled up at Clifford, determined to change the subject. 'Have you done much painting while I've been missing?' she asked.
He looked rather sheepish for a moment, so that she looked at him curiously, sitting with his hands clasped together between his knees, and looking down at them instead of at her. 'I haven't done any at all actually,' he said, and she smiled. ^
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