by Penny Jordan
‘We could have something good between us, Natasha.’
She felt Adam’s lips move against her hair, and immediately drew back. At the same time the door opened and the twins came in, both of them giving her accusing looks.
What on earth had she done? She introduced them to Adam, whom they treated with wary politeness. What had happened to their earlier enthusiasm?
Throughout the rest of the afternoon, the twins didn’t leave them alone for a moment, giving her scant chance to make any real arrangements to leave.
She knew where he was staying in Dallas, and she would just have to telephone him there, she decided, on a faint sigh.
‘I really ought to be leaving. I have a dinner engagement this evening…’
He glanced at his watch, and made a fussy gesture adjusting the cuff of his jacket. It was an irritating habit of his which she had noticed before, and which she felt sure would grow even more irritating were one forced to live with it day after day.
She went with him to his hire car, submitting to his dry kiss, keenly aware that the twins were observing them from the veranda.
‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow,’ she suggested. ‘When exactly do you fly back?’
‘I’m not quite sure yet, but instead of ringing why don’t you come to Dallas? We could have lunch together.’
Over lunch they would have enough privacy for her to discuss her plans for leaving—she didn’t want the twins to overhear them until she was ready to tell them her decision herself.
* * *
SHE WAS A LITTLE late going downstairs for dinner, and found that the twins and Jay were already seated when she walked into the dining-room.
Dolores, who had relaxed considerably towards her, fixed her with a curt frown as she slipped into her chair, and in fact the whole atmosphere inside the room was decidedly cool.
‘The girls tell me that you had a visitor this afternoon,’ Jay commented, once Dolores had served them.
Natasha blinked a little at the coldness of his tone.
‘Yes. My…an old friend,’ she amended, realising that it might be dangerous to her plans if she described Adam as her ex-employer.
‘He wants Natasha to go back to London with him,’ Cherry announced, stunning Natasha to silence. How much of their conversation had the girls overheard—and how? Had they actually been eavesdropping? She frowned at both of them and received a flushed and defiant look from Rosalie in return.
‘He was talking about Natasha’s money, too, wasn’t he, Rosalie? The money that Gramps left her…’
Now it was Natasha’s turn to colour brightly. How on earth could she correct the totally erroneous impression the twins’ innocent chatter was giving Jay? Any explanation could only make things worse.
She risked a glance at him and saw that there was a white line of temper round his mouth, and that his eyes were glittering dangerously.
Her appetite suddenly fled. She pushed away her plate and stood up. ‘I’m sorry… I’m not hungry tonight. If you’ll all excuse me…’
She was running away and she knew it, but she simply didn’t have the strength to face Jay right now.
She was sitting by her sitting-room window staring into space when the door suddenly burst open.
‘Still here, then?’ he snarled at her. ‘Not run off to join your lover yet? Did the pair of you plan it all right from the start? Is that how it was, Natasha? Is it?’ He shook her, making her feel so dizzy that when he abruptly released her, she had to cling to the chair for support.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she told him huskily.
He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed, skin stretched tight across his cheekbones.
‘What I’m talking about,’ he enunciated with soft savagery, ‘is you and your…boyfriend, setting up a nice little trap for my grandfather, with you as the very tempting bait. He took that bait, didn’t he, Natasha? And he was so besotted with you that he left you half of this place. But you got more than you bargained for, didn’t you? You got responsibility for the twins thrown in with all that money, and a will that ties you down to spending six months out of every year here. What does he say to that? Does he know that if you leave here you forfeit everything?’
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how wrong he was, and that she was more than happy to give up everything Tip had left her, apart from her guardianship of the girls. Instead, she suppressed her denial and taunted softly, ‘What makes you think we’re leaving? Adam and I could get married and live here. That way I won’t have to give up a thing, will I?’
She had never known before that she was such a good actress. Jay was livid. She could see it in the furious clenching and unclenching of his hands.
‘You bitch,’ he said hoarsely at last. ‘You little bitch…and you’d do it too, wouldn’t you? But I’m not going to let you.’
He was coming towards her, menacing her with every step he took, and her adrenalin-fuelled courage fled, leaving in its place shock at what she had done, and fear of the retribution it would bring.
It was too late to back down now, all she could do was to say defiantly, ‘You can’t stop me. I can marry who I want. There was nothing in the will that says I can’t!’
His lips curled back from his teeth in a dangerous smile. ‘So it’s marriage you want, is it? Well then, it’s marriage you shall have. But not to your pretty blond-haired lover, not to a man who’s going to take away what rightly belongs to me!’
Real fear hit her now, constricting her stomach, and making her cry out protestingly, ‘No, Jay, I won’t marry him. I…’
‘It’s no good. It’s too late. You’ve made me see how vulnerable I am. No, the only way to make sure this ranch is safe…the only way to stop you from squandering and destroying it, is to marry you myself!’
It was the very last thing she had expected to hear. She stared at him, the colour leaving her skin, her eyes darkening with shock.
‘Marry you? No… No… I can’t!’
He smiled again, but there was no mirth in it, no warmth.
‘You can’t do it, Jay. You can’t make me!’
It was true, surely. He couldn’t make her, and yet there was something so sure and so determined in the way he was looking at her, that she suddenly felt that there was nothing he could not accomplish if he wished to.
Panic hit her. She started to babble nervously, telling him that she would renounce her share of their joint inheritance, that she would go away and never, ever come back, but he just kept on looking at her with that same calculating, cold look.
‘You say that now, but how long would it take you to change your mind? The moment you got out of my sight, you’d be hiring some fancy lawyer to claim that you’d rescinded your share under duress. No… Marriage is the only answer.’ He said it almost to himself, almost as though she wasn’t there.
‘You can’t! You don’t love me.’
Now he did look at her. His eyes widening, a frown furrowing his forehead as he looked at her as though he’d never seen her before.
‘Love?’ He said the word as though it came from an alien language. ‘My God, you dare to say that to me?’ He reached her in three strides, taking hold of her, and staring down at her. ‘You, who have given your body to God knows how many men for greed and possibly worse… Love! Love doesn’t exist… I thought I had it once, but it was just a chimera, just an illusion…a mirage created by another greedy woman, who wanted this place, more than she wanted me.’
‘You mean the twins’ mother?’ she blurted out before she could stop herself.
He released her as though her skin was acid.
‘Who told you about her?’
‘Jenneth… Jenneth told me that you loved her…’
His mouth turned downwards. ‘So Jenneth told you, did she?’
For some reason he looked bitterly amused.
‘You can’t marry me, Jay,’ she protested as positively as she could, hating the way her s
tomach muscles quivered. What was happening to her? Why did he have the power to have this devastating effect on her?
‘I can and will,’ he contradicted her flatly. ‘Some folks around here are even going to expect it—darling.’
Too late she remembered how she had flirted with him during the dinner party, and bit down hard on her bottom lip.
It was ridiculous to feel this fluttering sensation of panic tinged with pain. After all, he couldn’t force her to marry him.
Someone knocked on her door and pushed it open.
‘Phone for you, Jay,’ Dolores announced. ‘It’s the Cattlemen’s Association. Said it was important.’
If Dolores was aware of the tension crackling between the two of them she didn’t show it.
She and Jay left together. The housekeeper hadn’t exhibited the smallest degree of curiosity or surprise at finding Jay in her room, Natasha realised. In fact, there had even been a certain degree of acceptance in her briefly appraising glance at them. Almost as though she was measuring them together as a couple.
The thought disturbed her. All the more so because she could not automatically reject it as being impossible. It was just as well that she had made arrangements to see Adam tomorrow! The sooner she was home in England the better. The air out here must be affecting her common sense, she decided uneasily. She felt so jittery and tense. The warm, masculine scent of Jay’s body still lingered in her nostrils, and she was as acutely aware of him as though he was actually in the room with her.
Ten o’clock. Too early to go to bed, and yet the evening stretched emptily ahead of her. She wanted to deny the effect that Jay was having on her, but honesty would not let her. Her nerves felt as though they had been scraped raw. This constant battling with Jay, and trying to keep at bay her own physical vulnerability to him, were taking their toll on her.
The tension invading her body refused to be quelled. She was wound up so tightly that she couldn’t bear to sit down. How on earth was she going to sleep? Her glance fell on the tray of drinks. They had been there ever since her arrival. Normally she never touched alcohol, having discovered in her late teens that she had no head for it.
Her doctor, when she had once complained of this to him, had smiled a little and explained that there were those people for whom one glass of wine could have nearly as much effect as others experienced after an entire bottle.
Over the years she had come to accept that half a glass of wine was as much as her system could tolerate, but tonight… She looked at the tray again and noticed the bottle of brandy. One small glass of that, and nothing would keep her awake. She thought about the broken nights, tormented by disturbing dreams, and succumbed. She needed the restorative effect of a proper night’s sleep, and tonight, she decided grimly, she would have it.
She went over to the tray and looked for a brandy glass, but found only a large whisky tumbler.
Not being a spirits drinker, she had no idea how much to pour, but the small amount in the bottom of the glass made her frown and add a more generous measure. After all, what did it matter if she did get a little tipsy? She was going straight to bed.
She would drink this now. Have a bath, and then if she didn’t feel sleepy she would pour herself another small measure.
The alcohol stung her throat and warmed her stomach. Almost immediately she could feel its effect on her tense body. The muscles at the back of her neck ached painfully, and she massaged them with one hand, only half aware of the insidious effect of the alcohol as it sped through her body.
She had just decided that perhaps one small glass wasn’t going to be enough and poured herself a second when the bedroom door opened.
‘We didn’t finish our conversation,’ Jay told her abruptly, coming in.
‘Only as far as you’re concerned,’ Natasha said recklessly. ‘I have nothing I want to say to you.’
He was looking at her half-empty glass and frowning. ‘Have you been drinking?’
His obvious disapproval made her defiant. Tossing her head she said sharply, ‘Is there a law that says I can’t?’
Wilfully she walked back to the cabinet and poured herself another measure, turning to face him as she drank it.
She knew instantly that she had made a mistake. The alcohol went to her head immediately. The room started to sway and she concentrated desperately, trying to banish the cloudiness attacking her brain.
Her faintness retreated, an unfamiliar sense of well-being taking its place. She felt strong enough to take on the entire world, never mind Jay Travers!
‘Please leave my room,’ she demanded, testing her new-found courage and delighting in the strength of it. It was true that her words sounded rather slurred and odd, but plainly Jay made sense of them because anger was taking the place of his frown as he said irately,
‘Not yet, we have to talk.’
‘What about?’ Natasha taunted light-heartedly. ‘Our marriage?’
She was stunned. What on earth had made her bring that subject up?
‘Don’t push me too far,’ Jay warned her.
‘Why not?’ To her own amazement she heard herself giggling. ‘What are you likely to do? Carry me off and marry me out of hand?’
Through her giggles she heard his harsh, indrawn breath. ‘That might not be a bad idea,’ he told her savagely. ‘In fact…’
He was coming towards her. Something dangerous gleamed in his eyes. She knew she ought to move, to run, but somehow she couldn’t make the effort. He was going to kiss her, she could sense it. Did he know how vulnerable she was to that particular form of persuasion?
Just for a second she struggled against the compelling sensation of his mouth moving against her own as he imprisoned her within the hard barrier of his arms, and then her defiance melted beneath the slow surge of heat encompassing her. Dimly, a warning bell rang, telling her that she was being foolish, that she was not in control of either herself or the situation; but she ignored it, clinging mindlessly instead to the strength of Jay’s body.
His mouth tormented her, teasing and promising. He was whispering something against her mouth and she strained to catch the words.
‘Marry me,’ he demanded softly. ‘Come away with me tonight and marry me, Natasha.’
He was touching her, stroking her skin in such a way that she couldn’t think straight. She felt muddled and confused. Her body ached to be closer to his, but her mind warned her that she was heading into danger. What was he trying to do to her?
‘We couldn’t get married just like that,’ she protested, trying to fight against the insidious tug of her senses, and to free her brain from the effects of the brandy. He was confusing her with the gentleness of his voice and touch.
‘Why not? My plane’s on the airstrip. We could fly over the border into Mexico and be married by morning.’
Married! She felt the tiny thrill that ran through her veins, and before she had time to react to it he was kissing her again, bemusing her with the desire he was arousing within her. She swayed closer to him, unable to hide her feelings.
As warm darkness closed in around her she thought she heard Jay make an odd sound of triumph deep in his throat, but it was gone before she could analyse it, and he was lifting her, carrying her out of her room and into the darkness of the Texan night.
* * *
AND THAT WAS the last thing she remembered properly until the small plane started to descend through the darkness.
Hazy images of being carried through the house and driven to the airstrip floated through her mind, but even now she still felt woozy, the effects of the alcohol still powerful enough to bemuse and cloud her brain.
The scents of the Mexican night, the taxi ride through the small town; these were blurred details she was vaguely aware of as she occasionally lifted her head from its comfortable resting place against Jay’s shoulder. His arm was round her, holding her close to him. It all felt so deliciously right. She snuggled deeper into his side, burrowing against him, making a small
sound of pleasure like a purring kitten.
He looked down at her briefly. She felt so fragile, so vulnerable…and she was still knocked out with alcohol. His conscience pricked him but he silenced it. She did not deserve either his compassion or his consideration. Fate had seen fit to present him with this opportunity and he would be a fool not to take it. He smiled grimly to himself, imagining what her reaction was likely to be when she realised what had happened, and then turned his attention to the taxi driver, giving him directions in fluent Mexican.
Once, long ago, he had assisted a friend with the arrangements for a romantic run-away marriage. He hadn’t known then how useful he would find what he had learned on that occasion.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NATASHA was in a church. In a small, plain church standing in front of a priest who said familiar words to her, in an unfamiliar accent. She recognised the words, and responded to them automatically, shocked to suddenly feel herself held and kissed.
She looked up with dazed eyes at the man holding her.
‘Jay…’
He smiled at her, but his smile wasn’t right.
‘Yes, Mrs Travers?’
Something was wrong. That wasn’t her name. She was so confused. She put her hand to her head, and started to stumble. Jay said something to the priest in a language she couldn’t understand.
She had to sign something. Her name…the letters wavered as she steadied her hand. Then Jay was writing something, too. It was all very hazy, like a dream.
They left the church, and Jay took hold of her arm.
‘OK, that’s it. Time we were heading back.’
Mrs Travers, he had called her, and she was still puzzling over it when they reached the small airfield.
Jay was deep in conversation with someone, and from the sound of his voice, what he was being told didn’t please him.
‘There’s a storm brewing up,’ he told her curtly. ‘A real bad one. We’ll have to stay here tonight. There’s a hotel in town. We’ll have to go back there.’
The fogginess blocking her thought processes was clearing slightly, but not enough for her to make any sense of the situation. She couldn’t understand what she was doing out here in the middle of nowhere with Jay, or why she should have that worrying memory of him referring to her as ‘Mrs Travers’.
