The B4 Leg

by Various

  “No time. Remember I have to be back in London by October 1.”

  He groaned, then threw himself onto the bed beside her, turning on his side to stroke back the masses of her shining hair. “You want this, don’t you, Olivia?”

  She felt the blood rush to her head. “Oh, God, yes!”

  “So…we’ll take it slowly. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. First I’m going to kiss you through that shimmering silk, then, beautiful as it is, I’m going to take it off you. I want to know every little last detail of you. The tiniest thing. I want to listen to your heart.” He lowered the side of his face to her breast.

  It was incredibly arousing, sending primal thrusts deep into her.

  “It’s beating so fast,” he murmured, taking the nipple through the silk.

  Full sex lay ahead. She couldn’t bear to disappoint him.

  Call on your newfound powers.

  Even her inner voice sounded frantic.

  “You’re a very beautiful woman, in just the way I like,” he breathed. “More, you’re a clever woman, a kind and compassionate woman. So many admirable qualities. I need to tell you, you’re my ideal.”

  Oh, God, let it be so!

  She lay perfectly still while his hands and his mouth moved down over her with soft brushing and stroking movements. He made her feel so lush, so delectable, it was as though she was inhabiting the body of a different woman. A woman who knew all about inspiring passion. She grew damp with desire. Lying still became impossible. Her legs began to move. Slowly part. At first her lips moved soundlessly, then she began to make little keening sounds, moans that signified her endless yearning.

  His powerful bronze torso rose steeply with his every deep breath. He made her sit up like a child, so he could strip off her beautiful silk caftan. His arousal was great. Finally he laid her back, marvelling at the perfection of her woman’s body. Her blue eyes were on fire for him. She appeared beyond caring that she was naked. Or she was revelling in it. What was left of her deeply entrenched inhibitions had flown away.

  As naked as she, he returned to the bed, his expression exultant. “You can’t go back to your room tonight. I won’t have it.” One hand moved to cup her porcelain breast. “You must stay with me. I want to wake up looking into your desperately…desperately…lovely…face.” Each word was accompanied by soft, thrilling brushes to her mouth.

  She held his head as he bent to take one rosy erect nipple into his mouth. Suckled it as though it was a delicious berry. His teeth very lightly nipped, causing her one convulsive shudder after another. Her back arched, then arched again. She could have died from the pleasure, excruciating in its intensity. “Tell me you’ll stay?” he demanded with great urgency, now fully astride her, like some pagan god.

  Her arms rose to lock ecstatically behind his head. “You can keep me here for ever,” she said.

  Those final weeks were the happiest Olivia had ever known, sharing the life of the man she had come to love—body, heart and mind. Clint’s frequent business trips couldn’t be put on hold. She understood that. A couple of times he took her with him, once to Darwin for a general meeting of M.A.P.C., of which her father was a shareholder. She had been greeted royally and invited to sit in. Whenever Clint returned home from a trip, even an overnight trip, they made passionate love, more attuned to each other than they thought possible. He even found time to make brief visits to Georgy, carrying some little gift for her, usually a book. Georgy was a great reader.

  “It appears Marigole has taken it into her head to visit as well,” he told Olivia, his expression concerned. “Poor Marigole. She’s never known what she wants. Whatever she had going with Lucas has gone kaput!”

  Georgy, in one of her emails, also passed on the message. “Mummy wants me to call her Marigole now. She has come to see me twice. Wonder what she wants?”

  What indeed! Happy as she was, Olivia still felt a twinge of alarm.

  Clint debated taking her with him to New Guinea, where McAlpine had large property holdings, but in the end decided it was a bit risky. “You’re close to returning home. Can’t have you catching a bug. Malaria is still a threat.”

  He was to be gone for three to four days. “I’ll wind things up as soon as I can. If I can’t take you with me, at least I can take your image with me. It’s imprinted on my heart.”

  The denouement had to come. It came fast. So pulverising a blow it nearly knocked the breath of life from her. To think it was another email from Georgy. She had smiled in anticipation as she brought up the message. What she saw froze the muscles of her face. No, no, it can’t be! She sat therein the grip of paralysis…

  Dearest Liv,

  Great news! Daddy and Mummy have been having reconciliation talks. It seems like we‘ll be a family again. Mummy admits she was the one at fault. She swears she is going to change. Daddy says…

  She couldn’t read the rest. There was a thick grey fog in front of her eyes. She fancied she heard her heart crack.

  Reconciliation?

  Georgy wouldn’t lie to her. Georgy didn’t even know about the escalation of their relationship. It hadn’t started until Georgy had been back at school. So annihilating was the shock, she couldn’t seem to take it in, though her body was quaking and sobs issued from her throat.

  This was the man who had told her over and over he loved her? His parting words were etched on her brain.

  “When you’re back home, Olivia, my love, you must consider very carefully the future.” He had gripped her arms in his urgency. “I can’t live in England. I need to be here. You’re the one who will have to make the sacrifices. For our marriage to succeed, your tie to me must be the strongest tie in your life.”

  “I marvel you could doubt that for a second,” she had said.

  He had crushed her to him as if he would never let her go. Her life. Her lover.

  Now in his absence…this monstrous betrayal. It beggared belief a man like McAlpine couldn’t find the nerve to tell her of a possible reconciliation with his ex-wife.

  He has to be doing it for Georgy. He adores her. Parents do extraordinary things to benefit their children at the expense of themselves. Georgy comes first. But why live a double life?

  The answer. Men did it all the time.

  Bella was right. Men were beasts. And that included her father with his one-night stands. When she could work up the strength she would throw some things into a bag and get the hell out. She couldn’t remain another day under his roof. The supply plane was due in that afternoon. She could cadge a flight to Darwin, then pick up a flight to where? God, did it matter? Anywhere she could hide her head. Maybe lie down and die.

  Singapore was close.

  He was known in this part of the world. “Ms Balfour left the hotel about an hour ago, Mr McAlpine,” the receptionist at the world-famous Raffles Hotel told him. “I believe she was going shopping.”

  Shopping? He felt another turbulent wave of grief carrying with it the debris of rage. When he had arrived back to find Olivia gone and Kath distraught, he had to struggle not to bellow his impotence from a cliff top. This was a woman he had thought a pure soul. Truth was at the centre of her. Or so he’d thought, poor deluded fool. He had willingly let her into his life, into every aspect of his being. He had totally let down his guard. This wasn’t another Marigole. This was a woman he could trust with his life. Wasn’t she the woman who had dived in after Georgy into crocodile-infested waters without a thought for her own safety? Could a woman like that feign love? It didn’t seem possible, unless she was schizophrenic?

  She had left no note. Utterly gutless.

  That’s not her. It isn’t the Olivia you’ve come to know and love.

  “Good as gold one minute, packed and ready to go the next!” Kath’s pale face registered her own shock. “Wouldn’t tell me a thing, but kissed me goodbye like she loved me. I tell you, Clint, I don’t get it!”

  And he was supposed to?

  He took a seat in the foyer
. He was prepared to wait for as long as it took. If she thought she was getting away without explanation she had another think coming. It had been a simple enough matter to track her.

  Forty minutes later and there she was. Shining hair back to its smooth pleat, but she wore a very pretty summer dress, a wide turquoise belt cinched around her narrow waist. She wasn’t carrying any shopping bags. He let her get ahead, moving as graceful as a long-stemmed flower to the bank of lifts. Then he made his move, lithe as a big cat, getting a tight grip on her arm.

  “Ms Balfour, what a surprise!”

  He thought she was going to faint. He held her while she took good, deep breaths. “Clint, what are you doing here?” She couldn’t hide her distress or her massive shock. She didn’t look particularly well and he felt a thump of dread. Could she be ill? There were mauve shadows beneath her beautiful, treacherous blue eyes.

  “More to the point what are you doing here?” he rasped. “No, wait until we’re in your room. I might feel like strangling you, but it would never do in the foyer of Raffles.”

  Behind the closed door he loomed over her, a tall daunting figure. “Right!” he snapped. “Am I losing my mind or are you? When I left you a couple of days ago we were talking marriage. What’s happened since? Why the mad flight? God, Olivia, I could kill you.”

  He looked angry enough. “Why don’t you?” From being on autopilot, powerful emotions now flooded her body. “You’re a liar and a cheat.”

  And you love him. No matter what.

  His eyes flashed a brilliant anger. He looked appalled. “Have a care,” he warned.

  “You can’t deny it.” She reached for her handbag. Glittering tears stood in her eyes, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of allowing them to fall. “How could you, Clint. I trusted you. You had become my world. But you’re a lying brute, just like other men.”

  Every muscle in his powerful body tensed. “What the hell are you talking about?” He was about a beat away from losing it.

  “Here, read it. An email from Georgy.” She pitched the crunched-up piece of paper at him.

  He caught it, scanned it in a second, then lifted his head. “For pity’s sake, Olivia, this is utter rubbish.” He sounded deeply disappointed in her. “And it’s not from Georgy.”

  “More lies? Who’s it from, then?” She picked up a silk cushion and hurled it at him, her body language frenzied. It was beyond her understanding. She could still love this man after what he had done to her. No logic to love. No reasoning.

  But he’s come after you. Why?

  She sobered briefly.

  Doesn’t make sense, does it?

  He had sidestepped the flying missile. “Who the hell do you think?” he grated. “Marigole, of course. It’s just her style, a malicious ploy to speed you on your way. I wouldn’t take Marigole back if she were the last woman standing.”

  Her legs buckled under her. She sank down on the bed, not knowing what to believe any more. “Marigole? How did Marigole gain access to Georgy’s computer?”

  He came to sit beside her, the man who had given her all those perfect Judas kisses. “Clearly you don’t know Marigole. If there are games to be played, Marigole is first class. How could a clever woman like you be fooled so easily? I’m just so angry with you. What sort of man do you think I am? You told me you loved me, yet you condemned me out of hand.”

  True, Olivia! Shame. Shame. Shame!

  She turned her head to stare into his unwavering eyes. He looked tougher, harder, than she had ever seen him. “I never thought Georgy would lie. She didn’t know about us. What used to be us.” She gave a broken laugh.

  “She does now. There’s a genuine email waiting for you at home. Couldn’t you have waited until I got back?” He didn’t try to hide his pain.

  “You don’t understand.” She shook her head violently. “I gave my whole self to you. I was at your mercy. I love you, Clint. But when I read that, I hated you. Just as you hated me. I couldn’t possibly accept—” she choked on it”—I’d exposed my heart…”

  “And I hadn’t?” His fingers caught her chin.

  “I can only say I believed it to be the truth. Now I feel shaken to my very soul. I thought you might be doing it for Georgy. She means so much to you.”

  “Obviously you don’t realise what you mean to me.” With furious abandon, he pushed her backwards onto the bed, bending over her, a muscle working along his set jaw. “Was the relationship becoming too intense for you?”

  “Are you crazy?” She sought to sit up but he held her back. “Don’t you get it? I’ve searched for love all my life. Then like a miracle I fell in love. You’ve illuminated my days and my nights. I thought you were the one person who saw through all the layers of self-protection to the very heart of me. Without you I felt my life was finished. Why are you here anyway?”

  “For God’s sake, isn’t that obvious?” he exploded, his temper volatile. “I want you back. I refuse to let you go. I refuse the desolation of waking up in the morning without you. I refuse to allow Marigole her little victory.” He reached to pull the pins from her hair, ruffling it wildly around her face. His expression, his voice, the glitter in his eyes, betrayed his rocketing desire. Instant arousal at the very sight of her!

  “I have to continue on home, Clint,” she pleaded. “I have an obligation.”

  “I know that.” His response was terse. Then, like a driven man, he kissed her—not gently, not even with a measure of control. Full-on heat. He kissed her like a man starved of the woman he loved. Kissed her until she thought her heart was going to explode with joy in her chest.

  What a fool you were!

  Her inner voice was back to chiding her.

  “Forgive me?” she begged, the moment she was able.

  “It’s done!” He let go of his grief and helpless rage. She was where she was supposed to be. In his arms. “I’m coming back with you.” He made the decision on the spot. “I’ll make the time. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He gathered her up with exquisite strength. “Let me take care of you. Let me love you.” He gave a wry twist of a smile. “I’d been debating whether to strangle you. Now I think I’ll settle for making love to you instead.”

  “And I couldn’t want for anything more.” She was filled with immense fervour. “I’m at peace now. The despair is over. I’ve been a fool. But you know as well as anyone I’ve been prone to bouts of insecurity.”

  “Never with me. Never again,” he answered tautly. “We’re all fools in love. You’ve had me out of my mind and I thought I’d been through an emotional wringer in my time.” He held her eyes. “Now, my one and only love, I’m going to get you out of this very pretty dress.” He began to unbuckle her turquoise belt.

  She arched her back to assist him.

  “Are you really going to come back with me?” She felt over the moon at the prospect. To return home with Clint by her side! To show him off! It would make any woman ecstatic.

  “I’m not the kind of guy who backs off big decisions,” he was saying. “I’m coming with you to England. We’re a team. We go together. I’m sure Oscar won’t mind. But right now I’m working on making love to you until you scream for help.”

  “Won’t happen.” For the first time in days her face blossomed into radiant smiles.

  “I haven’t started on you yet,” he only half joked. “Afterwards I thought we might pay a visit to a jeweller. I’m thinking an engagement ring. The most beautiful ruby they can show us. Ruby for the heart’s blood. You know you hold my heart in these lovely, elegant hands.” He raised one and then the other, kissing them devoutly, like a white knight of old. “So what do you think?” His brilliant eyes gleamed.

  She released a long rapturous breath. “A ruby is perfect! I would adore it. You’re too good to me, Clint.”

  “Well, that’s settled!” Exultation was written all over him “Some nearly forgotten lines of poetry have come back to me. Want to hear them?”

  “I want t
o hear everything you have to say.” She pulled him hungrily down to her.

  “You probably know it, scholar that you are. I think I’ve got it right.” He turned his marvellous face to her, beginning to quote: “‘Nothing in the world is single; / All things by a law divine / In one spirit meet and mingle. / Why not I with thine?’”

  The tears flowed freely as Olivia picked up on the lines of her favourite poet, Shelley. How simply beautiful that Clint should think of them! She would never forget this moment.

  “And the sunlight clasps the earth…’” She wrapped her arms tightly, lovingly around him. ‘“And the moonbeams kiss the sea: / What is all this sweet work worth / If thou kiss not me?’”

  A tremendous rush of emotion freed Clint of the days of pain. “So let the kissing begin.”

  It did in earnest while the whole world held its breath.

  Unnoticed by either of them, lost among the stars, on the glass-topped table where Olivia had left her ancient crystal, its glorious sparkle dulled over, the stone suddenly began to radiate iridescent beams of blue light.

  Unaccountable?

  Magic can happen anywhere, at any time.

  EPILOGUE

  Article in SCOOP Magazine:

  This Month’s Exclusive!

  Splendour in Buckinghamshire…Patrician Eighteenth-century Balfour Manor…Oscar Balfour’s Brilliant Birthday Bash!

  Coverage: Rainbow Beckwith Photographs: Bobby Berstein

  Greetings, greetings, dear readers! Kisses, kisses—both cheeks—hugs, hugs.

  What a scoop I have for you this month, so sit back with a cuppa and lap it all up.

  The Balfour Black Tie Birthday Extravaganza. Engraved invitations (I kept mine) requested the ladies wear either silver, white or gold. Bellissimo! I can report everyone rose splendidly to the occasion. As we were to find out later, the particular palette was to complement the exquisite flower arrangements and the fantastic interior and exterior decorations.