Too late she realized the unfortunate slip of phrasing; Craig's eyes narrowed and a drift of colour slowly fused his cheeks. His face came close again, dark with fury; his voice was a low and vibrant threat when he spoke.
'How did he kiss you, then ?'
'He didn't—' Before she could rectify her mistake his lips were pressed to hers again, with even more brutality than before, and with all the arrogance of primitive possession.
'I daresay it wasn't like that, either!' He looked fit to murder her, though undoubtedly he had something else in mind, and she burst out, desperately and without thought, .
'Don't, Craig ... oh, what are you going to do!' Her whole body shuddered against him and she had the rather astounding impression of a gentler hold, and yet his arms about her did not. slacken. 'You'll be sorry — Mark—'
His hold did slacken then and to her utter astonishment his black fury dissolved and he actually threw back his head and laughed - a laugh of sheer amusement. 'So that's why you were looking so scared ?' His fingers came up and flicked her cheek, caressingly. 'Whatever I would like to do to you - and believe me I would derive the greatest satisfaction from teaching you a lesson - I am your brother's friend. Honour, you know, and all that.' He was mocking her, but although she flushed at his mockery she also experienced a heartfelt relief at this sudden and unexpected change of mood. This was more the Craig she knew and understood. She felt safe again. Nevertheless, her heart did give a jerk as she thought of his words about teaching her a lesson. She felt sure, had she not been Mark's sister, that she would not have come off so lightly. He still held her, though not so closely or so painfully. His dark eyes still retained their mocking light, but there was something else in their depths, something that prompted an effort to regain his esteem.
'Cetin has never kissed me - in any way.' She was still very shaken and her voice reflected the trembling of her body. 'I suppose you think,. after tonight, that I'm -I'm....' She could not continue and the slight lift of Craig's brows was the only response he made to her rather feeble protestations of innocence. 'It really has nothing to do with you, I know, but I would like to think you believed me.' Such humility, when she should be reminding him of his detestable conduct, declaring wrathfully that she hated him. To her dismay her eyes filled up and two great tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. Craig's eyes flickered oddly as he watched her take out a handkerchief and dry her face.
'You can say he's never kissed you? - after that little scene I interrupted - here in this room? And after the Bursa escapade??' His glance was sceptical; Jeanette avoided it - looking past him to the fire, to the faintly glowing embers, shooting out tiny sparks through the bars to fall on to the hearth and die. And then her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the little perfume jar and again she saw Craig handling it, with such care, such reverence almost. She had sensed the strength of his long and slender hands as he held it, and the gentleness with which he examined it before pronouncing his verdict. She had felt that strength a few moments ago, a cruel and merciless strength. She had also felt the gentleness of those hands, but on other occasions. ..not tonight
An anguished little sigh trembled on her lips as she recalled those moments of intimacy, moments that Craig had forgotten - or perhaps they had never even registered, had been so unimportant as to pass unnoticed.
'About that little scene here, as you call it I didn't give Cetin any encouragement On the contrary, I told him I could never marry him—'
'He asked you to marry him?' Craig interrupted sharply, a frown darkening his brow. 'Cetin wanted marriage?'
She nodded and went on perseveringly, 'I told him I couldn't, and he seemed to understand and accept that. I would never have agreed to go out with him otherwise. I felt all the time that he was resigned and I was amazed when he - acted as he did.'
A small pause and then, curiously,
'He knew you were going out with me?'
'I told him, yes. I'd telephoned him earlier.'
'So he was jealous.'
She flushed but said no more about that, sure now that Craig believed her statement about not giving Cetin any encouragement.
'As regards the Bursa trip. ...' Jeanette shook her head sadly, and with deep regret. 'I should have taken notice of you, Craig, but there was a good reason for my going.'
'Yes?'
'I can't tell you... it isn't possible.' She looked up at him apologetically, and then continued, 'I know we weren't - I wasn't prudent-—'
'Prudent!' he shot out, and she was reminded of his reaction when he heard of the several incidents which had occurred on the trip. He had looked, she remembered, as if he would dearly have loved to do her some physical injury. 'You were downright brazen to sleep out with three men—' 'Craig!'
'You know what I mean,' he snapped, brushing aside her indignant protest. 'And those friends of yours - they don't appear to be over endowed with common sense, either. Why didn't you all book in at a hotel? It wasn't as if you were out in the wilds.'
Jeanette shook her head, Unable, to answer him, for looking back now it seemed incredible that they had followed like sheep, obeying Cetin's every order without question.'
'It was foolish,' she admitted at last, 'but it was only that. There was no actual wrong intent.' Her tones were pleading, and so were her eyes. It seemed so important that he should think well of her, though she did wonder, with a little catch of depression, whether he would ever forget the way she was dressed tonight. 'I do want you to believe me.' She didn't realize how small and pale she looked, and how distressed. Craig's dark eyes flickered, and settled. He regarded her silently for a while, his face grim and stern but lacking that threatening light which had so terrified her not many moments ago.
"You're the most puzzling and the most tantalizing woman I've ever had the misfortune to meet!' he exploded, almost making her jump, both in surprise and at the unexpected loudness of his tones. 'What sort of warped philosophy has eaten into you? You mustn't marry, yet you can go off with three men to— All right, I'm fully aware that you had two female companions -there's no need to take me quite literally,' he snapped when she would have interrupted him. 'You go off like that - and tonight I find you in the fellow's company again, half undressed, and you adopt this air of virtue, tell me you haven't even been kissed!' He stopped, to glare at her. 'My common sense tells me I ought not to be convinced.'
His outburst staggered her; she gave a litde gasp and stared up at him, her face pale and shadowed in the dimness of the room, her lips parted slightly and swollen still by the cruelty of those savage kisses. She shook her head in bewilderment.
'I can never understand you, Craig,' she murmured, wondering if he were convinced, despite his common sense. 'I don't understand, anything you do or say when you're like this.' She made a small movement of her hands and continued to stare at him, mystified. 'Why should you bother about me at all? Why should you be so interested in what I do?' Diane intruded and she wait on without thinking, You and I can never mean anything to one another, because of the past ...' She pressed a hand to her mouth, appalled at what she'd said. There had never been any question of anything between them, at least, not in the way implied by her words. What would Craig think? Would he realize she had been speaking her thoughts aloud, and guess at her feelings for him? Fearfully, she cast her eyes upwards, searching for his reaction. What she saw caused her to tremble again and make a move to escape from his arms.
'Very well,' He said between his teeth. 'I'll go, but I'll have another kiss first!'
In total contradiction to the tones of his voice his kisses were gentle with all the tender persuasion of the lover. Her body went taut and for a while she remained firm in her resolve. But Craig was equally set on her capitulation. She found herself responding and at the same time wondering why she had fought. In their numerous clashes of wills he had always beaten her; physically she could not hope to win.
Her emotions were chaotic. She became torn between the instinct to abandon herself f
ully to the delights offered, and the desire to lessen her ultimate self-disgust But even these emotional struggles were futile, for Craig was too strong for her. He meant to bend her to complete surrender, and she forgot all else save the moment, giving herself up gladly and generously to his kisses, gathering from life this one short interlude of bliss, when Craig was all her own. He took his lips from hers and her eyes sought his, a little fearful lest he should discover the secret within their depths. Her mouth was softly parted as if in readiness to be kissed again. A smothered little laugh escaped him, tinged with triumph - and with mockery.
'Is that the way Cetin kisses you?' he asked softly. 'And is that the way you respond? You're hot so cold after all, I somehow didn't think you were.'
A terrible little silence followed. Jeanette felt he had struck her a blow and the colour drained from her face as she pushed her fists against his chest, releasing herself from his slackened hold. A tide of shame and humiliation swept over her both at the realization of the tumult within her and at the thought of her willing and eager surrender. How he must be despising her; and she deserved it, for she had known all the time she was receiving those tender gentle kisses, that she was harming Diane. It was an odd philosophy in the world of men, she mused bitterly, that although their own lapses were excused, such lapses in women were condemned. , Craig's face above her, contemptuous and faintly mocking, aroused in her an irrepressible desire to hit back, to wipe that half sneer from his dark and arrogant face and she said, forcing a laugh,
'Poor Diane; she wouldn't like you to be kissing another girl.'
'Diane?' Craig cast her a swift glance. 'Diane won't find out,' he remarked, without expression. 'I shan't be fool enough to tell her, and I'm sure you will also remain silent about our... little indiscretion.'
Her colour rose at that and she bit her lip in vexation. She didn't quite know how her intended revenge had misfired, but it certainly had done so, in fact, it would appear that Craig had turned the tables on her, for she was the one feeling embarrassment while he stood there completely unperturbed by her reference to Diane.
She turned, with a trembling sigh, and took up her coat from the back of the chair. The little ball of terror in her throat had dissolved, but in its place had come that more familiar ache of loneliness and despair. She looked across at Craig, standing there, so tall, so coldly remote, and a blur of weariness darkened her vision.
'You're all in,' he observed, the inflection in his tones oddly at variance with the stern set lines of his jaw. 'I expect it's those kids - and your late night—' He broke off abruptly as she shot, him an accusing, reproachful glance, and a flicker of amused comprehension touched the corners of his mouth. He hesitated a moment, and she felt sure he was considering some sardonic remark about what had just occurred, but all he said was, 'Tomorrow is Saturday, so you can have a lie in.' He crossed the room, and had opened the door when she said, absently fingering one of the buttons on her coat,
'Neither the children nor the late nights will be affecting me soon; I expect Mark told you that I'm returning, to England with him in December.'
He turned, slowly, an unfathomable expression on his face.
'No, Mark didn't mention it.' He took a step back into the room. 'This is a very sudden decision. You're breaking your contract?'
'My resignation has gone in. It's a mere formality, for I'm going home whether it's accepted or not.'
There followed a tense, uncomfortable silence, and a puzzling one too, for just as, a short while ago, Craig's anger had filled the car, so it now seemed to pervade the room. But no indication of anger sharpened his voice, on the contrary, he spoke in quiet tones, with that clipped, impersonal quality she knew so well.
'I think perhaps you've made a wise decision,' and turning again towards the door, 'Good night, Jeanette. Do as I say and have a rest in the morning.'
She saw him out, closed the door and leant against it, her fingers moving convulsively, pressing into the folds of her coat, her tears imprisoned in a black cloud of despair. At last she went upstairs and into her room. The curtains were apart; noiselessly she moved across the thick carpet to close them, shutting out the myriad lights on the strait, and on the distant shore, shutting out the dark silhouette of the trees surrounding Craig's house, and the graceful yacht outlined like some giant bird against a star-flecked amethyst sky.
CHAPTER TEN
It was Sunday and Jeanette had slept at the flat, for Mark and Tony had gone to an all-night party along with Craig and Diane. Jeanette had also been invited, but as she had no wish to suffer more heartache, she had declined the invitation and asked her friends if she could spend the night with them. She was on the camp bed in the sitting-room- and she lay there, comfortable and warm, for a long while after the first glimmer of dawn had wakened her. But as the objects in the room became more clearly defined she sensed a strangeness about the light and, rising, she slipped into a dressing-gown and went over to the glass door leading to the balcony.
A gasp of wonder left her lips as she stared, spell-bound, lost in a strange and mystic world of whiteness and of silence.
Snow had fallen steadily during the night, creating a dramatic, fairy-tale like scene, with the shining waters of the Bosphorus lending an air of charm and mystery possible only in the east. The domes of the mosques, glowing like giant pearls, were set in a bed of ivory; the minarets grew crystal stalagmites towards the sombre roof of the sky.
But even while she stood there, gazing in silent admiration, and with a totally new awareness of her surroundings, the clouds parted and a cascade of sunbeams escaped, drenching the scene with gold, painting the waters of Marmara with tints of ochre and spreading a pale brilliance over the mouths of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn.
Turning as she heard the rattle of crockery in the kitchen, Jeanette went to join Sally who was making morning tea.
'I could have done that,' she apologized, reaching for the tray. 'I've been awake ages. Have you looked outside?'
Sally nodded, reminding her that she and Gwen had already seen one Turkish winter.
'I'll never forget looking out for the first time, though on a scene like this. You get used to it, but this first scene is the one that remains impressed for ever upon your mind.' The kettle began to boil and Sally made the tea while Jeanette put out the cups and saucers. 'It's a pity in a way, that you won't see the real winter here.' Sally put the cosy over the teapot, eyeing her friend strangely. 'You never said what made you decide to go home.' She spoke tentatively, as if afraid of intruding on Jeanette's privacy, yet at the same time displaying a natural curiosity.
Jeanette found the sugar bowl and placed it on the tray.
'You didn't... guess?'
A small silence, and then,
'We thought it might be Craig Fleming,' she murmured, and Jeanette glanced away, a hint of colour rising. Sally added, in a gentle voice. 'You knew all the time about Diane, though?'
'Yes, Sally, I knew. I've been very foolish.'
'But he's not the sort for you,' her friend protested forcefully. 'Oh, I know he's devastatingly attractive, and he's obviously no pauper, but the man himself — I'll never forget the night of the party, the way he stood in that doorway, so darned superior, with that smouldering expression in his eyes. And you were nothing to him! Just imagine how you'd have felt if you'd been his wife. You'd have been terrified. I know I would, for the way he looked I'd have expected to be half killed when he got me home!'
Mechanically Jeanette put the spoons in the saucers, her thoughts flying to that night and a shudder passing through her at the memory. But had she been Craig's wife she wouldn't have been out without him, so she would have had nothing to fear.
'Shall I take a , cup of tea in to Gwen?' she asked, changing the subject. 'Is she awake ?'
'She wasn't when I got up. I'll go and see.'
Gwen was still, sleeping and the two friends took their tea into the sitting-room.
'Were you comfortable?' inqui
red Sally, eyeing the bed. 'I see you didn't need the extra blanket.'
'No, I was lovely and warm.' She sipped her tea and was lost in thought. Only a few more days in Istanbul, for she and Mark had promised their parents they would be home for the new year. They should have been home for Christmas, but, much to Jeanette's astonishment, Mark had changed his plans. Craig was responsible for this, having persuaded her brother to accept an invitation to a party he was giving on Christmas Eve. Fortunately Jeanette had a legitimate excuse for not accepting his invitation, for she had already made arrangements to go out to a dance with her friends and the rest of the crowd.
'Have you seen much of Craig since that night?' Sally put milk in her cup and poured herself some more tea. 'I know Diane came over soon afterwards, but she went back, you said.'
'She came over to stay, at least, I imagine she intended staying, but her solicitor sent for her. She'd forgotten to sign some papers, so there were complications over her husband's estate. But she's here now - came over the day before yesterday, so Mark tells me. As for Craig, I haven't seen him for about a month.' She paused, a frown spreading. 'We're to dine with him tomorrow evening, and as there's to be only the four of us I can't very well get out of it, much as I would like to.'
She had thought up numerous excuses, since the invitation had come, but they were all so lame, and so obvious, that she had been reluctantly compelled to discard them all. But even when she was dressed and waiting Mark to come from his room, fears began to assail her. It wasn't merely the prospect of spending a long evening watching Craig's tender display of affection for Diane which dismayed her, but she very much doubted her own ability to meet Diane without betraying her guilt. Craig she knew would be unruffled, confident, that his indiscretion, as he termed it, would remain for ever a secret. It appalled and disgusted Jeanette to think that a man could love as deeply and sincerely as he loved Diane and yet be willing to indulge in an affair with another woman — for assuredly an affair would have developed had he had his own way. It just went to prove that basically all men were alike, not averse to infidelity so long as they could escape discovery. She dwelt for a space on the picture she had built up of Craig; she had believed him to be fine and honourable, and while one part of her condemned his faithlessness, the other knew only pain at the thought of his being no better than any other man.
Anne Hampson Page 17
