Bitter Enchantment

by Yvonne Whittal

Kneeling down to warm her hands, Melanie glanced about her, taking in the sturdy wooden furniture and the brightly coloured seat cushions. There was nothing elaborate about the furnishings, but everything was entirely masculine and, if it had not been for the rings glittering on the third finger of her left hand, she would have felt that she was trespassing on a domain built to the exclusion of women.

  The faint sound of a motor starting up reached her ears, and seconds later the lights flickered on, hurting her eyes after the accustomed darkness. Jason returned moments later and Melanie rose stiffly in front of the fire as he approached her.

  'I'll go down to the car and collect the rest of our things. Will you be all right on your own?'

  The thought of him going back all that way to the car now seemed like sheer lunacy. She had felt the draught of icy air when he had come in from starting the generator, and nothing, not even her fear of him, would induce her to step outside again.

  'You can't go out again. It must be freezing outside.'

  'Our suitcases are still in the car,' he reminded her grimly, turning up the collar of his jacket.

  'I dare say we'll manage somehow.'

  Too late she realised the implication of her hasty words, and her glance fell before his.

  'I'll manage, but I don't think you'll enjoy sleeping in the raw,' he mocked her mercilessly, taking in her flushed cheeks and quivering lips before he muttered something unintelligible and turned away. 'I suggest you see what you can find in the kitchen for us to eat while I'm out.'

  The front door slammed behind him seconds later, and Melanie found herself alone once more with nothing but a desolate silence for company. Taking off her coat, she threw it over the back of a chair and, glancing down at her damaged stockings, she grimaced and peeled them off, pushing them into the pocket of her coat before she began to explore the chalet.

  There were two bedrooms, both modestly furnished, and each with their own private bathroom, but the large double bed in the one room sent a quiver of apprehension through her that made her retreat swiftly. There was no real way of escape from this situation for her. The door of the steel cage had snapped shut and she was a prisoner at the mercy of the man she had married that morning.

  Brushing aside her unpleasant thoughts, she explored further and, to her delight, she discovered that the kitchen was surprisingly modern, with cupboards stocked with tinned food, and an electric oven. A puzzled frown creased her brow when she found that someone had thoughtfully started up the paraffin refrigerator prior to their arrival, but she was even more startled when she discovered it was stocked up with everything they could possibly require, from fresh meat to crispy vegetables. A friendly neighbour, perhaps? she wondered as she took out a packet of steak and a container of eggs.

  Jason would have to be satisfied with an omelette and steak, she decided, and just to set it off, she would open up one of the small tins of mushrooms she had seen in one of the cupboards.

  Engrossed in what she was doing, She found the time flew past and she looked up with an uncomfortable start of surprise when she heard the front door open and close. She heard Jason's footsteps echoing down the passage and the sound of suitcases being dropped on to the floor, and then he was entering the kitchen, coming up behind her as she dished the food into their plates.

  'Hm…' he sniffed appreciatively. 'Being out in the cold has given me an appetite.'

  'I thought we could eat in front of the fire,' she said hesitantly, not knowing him well enough to decide whether he would approve or not.

  'Sounds fine to me,' he smiled briefly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and standing aside while she put their plates on the tray along with the knives and forks. 'Need any help?'

  She shot him a surprised glance and said, half in jest, and half in earnest, 'You can take the tray through, if you like.'

  Never for one moment did she suspect that he would do exactly as she had suggested, and she found herself following him through to the lounge in an astonished silence. He placed the tray on a low table close to the fire and left the room, only to return seconds later with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The cork popped loudly and somehow Melanie found herself standing facing him with a glass of sparkling champagne in her trembling hand.

  'To us,' he said, touching the rim of his glass to hers, then he raised it to his lips, and she followed his example, unable to find her voice to echo his toast.

  Her glance went beyond him and she gasped audibly as she saw for the first time the mounted head of a lion above the stone fireplace, its eyes gleaming maliciously, and its fangs bared ready for the kill. It looked very much alive, and she thanked heaven that she had been unaware of its existence while she had waited around in the darkness for Jason to return. She shivered in-voluntarily, and Jason's amused glance followed hers.

  'A farmer in the eastern Transvaal was having problems with a marauding lion some years ago,' he explained as they sat down to start their meal. 'I was part of the team that went in search of it.'

  'Did you kill it? Is that why you had its head mounted?'

  'I killed it,' he said with a sort of flat finality in his voice that prevented her from asking further questions.

  She tried to eat, but her glance kept returning to the silent, snarling animal above the fireplace, and the steak she had taken such pains to prepare turned to sawdust in her mouth.

  After two glasses of champagne, and very little to eat, she felt lightheaded, and slightly more courageous, as Jason leaned back against the cushions on the bench and stretched his long legs towards the log fire.

  'That was good,' he murmured, closing his eyes and smiling faintly.

  She studied him in silence for a moment, wondering just what he was thinking, but her own wild thoughts intruded, and she quickly gathered up the dishes to take them through to the kitchen.

  'I'll make us something to drink.'

  'Make mine coffee,' he said without opening his eyes. 'Strong, black, and without sugar.'

  Melanie washed the dishes while she waited for the kettle to boil, and the kitchen was as tidy as she had found it originally when she returned to the lounge with their coffee.

  The silence between them was unnerving, and' Melanie's courage deserted her as she became aware of Jason observing her much in the same way as that animal above the fireplace must have observed its prey before attacking and, like that beast of prey, Jason could afford to be smugly patient. His prey was cornered, and there to be taken at his leisure.

  Her nerve ends quivered in protest, and after a desperate search for something to say that would alleviate the tension, she asked, 'Do you come here often?'

  'As often as I can when I need to get away from the pressure of work. It's peaceful and quiet, and the nearest telephone is five kilometres away.'

  She wondered suddenly whether he had ever brought Delia Cummings to his chalet, but she discarded the thought distastefully and asked instead, 'Who stocked up the cupboards and lit the paraffin refrigerator?'

  'I've got someone in Bergville who usually takes care of these things for me.'

  There was a hint of impatience in his voice, and she had the feeling that his muscles were tensed, ready to leap. Her supposition was so strong that she had jumped to her feet before she was able to prevent herself and, realising how foolish she must appear, she asked him for his empty cup in order to escape from his alarming presence for a few minutes.

  Jason calmly held out his cup and she took an involuntary step forward, realising too late how easily she had walked into the trap when his free hand shot out and gripped her wrist. She was dragged down into his arms, and fear clutched at her throat, making it impossible to speak as she found herself staring up into his darkly tanned face.

  'You're afraid of me, aren't you?'

  It was a statement, not a question, and his perceptive-ness startled her into an admission. 'Yes, I am.'

  'Of me, or of sex in general?'

  'A little of both, I think,' she admitte
d, unable to avoid his penetrating glance.

  'Do you consider me to be some sort of monster?'

  'No.'

  Melanie moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, completely unaware of the sensuality in that innocent gesture, and her blue glance registered alarm when his eyes darkened with unmistakable desire.

  'I don't intend to hurt you unnecessarily, Melanie, but I won't allow you to back out of our agreement.'

  His kiss was like a searing, passionate flame that threatened to devour her. She tried to respond, but felt herself go rigid instead in the face of such overwhelming desire. Submerged in a wall of panic, she struggled against him, but her hands encountered hard, unyielding muscles, she knew the futility of her puny efforts.

  'For God's sake, Melanie, relax!' he groaned eventually when his caresses, intended to arouse her, merely succeeded in increasing her tenseness.

  'I c-can't!' she gasped, humiliatingly close to tears and, more than anything else, wishing herself back in the safety of her own room at Greystone Manor.

  Jason's tight-lipped expression chilled her, his fingers biting into the soft flesh of her upper arms as he set her aside firmly and got to his feet. The silence was explosive as he towered over her menacingly, and she shrank back against the cushions, labouring under a feeling of guilt as she waited for him to say something —anything! —that would relieve the electrifying tension in the air.

  'I've certainly picked a loser this time,' he said at last, his deep voice grating harshly along her sensitive nerves. 'If there's anything I can't stand, then it's a frigid woman, and God only knows what I saw in you, You're a fake, Melanie; a fake and a fraud. You got what you wanted, but you're not prepared to give anything in return.'

  His words cut her to the core and, shaking in every limb, she rose to her feet, determined to disprove his opinion of her in some way.

  'Jason…'

  'Please!' He held up his hands in a silencing gesture. 'Whatever it is you may have to say, I'm certain it would be of no interest to me at all, but you needn't be concerned that I shall go back on my word. Your grandmother shall have Greystone Manor for as long as she lives, but as for our marriage, it no longer exists. We'll remain here for a week, as planned, but once we've returned to Johannesburg I shall continue to live my life as before. In the eyes of the law you will be my wife, but don't expect any consideration from me. I shall seek my pleasures elsewhere, regardless of what you, and others, may think.' His eyes, like slivers of ice, raked her from head to foot with a degrading insolence that drove every scrap of blood from her face. 'Have I made myself clear?'

  Her lips moved but no sound came, and she nodded mutely instead, the subdued light in the room casting deep shadows beneath eyes that held a wounded expression.

  'The first room down the passage is yours,' he said coldly as he turned his back on her and stared into the remains of the fire. 'Go to bed—and don't bother locking the door,' he added cynically. 'You're quite safe.'

  Her trembling legs carried her from his presence, but as the bedroom door closed behind her, she felt something snap inside her, and the weeks of sorrow and tension took their toll. Sinking to the floor beside the bed, she buried her face in her arms, and wept long and bitter tears until she felt sure that not a shred of emotion remained within her.

  'You're a fake and a fraud,' she recalled Jason's stinging remark some time later when she lay curled up in the large double bed wondering how she was going to cope with this new situation. 'You're more than a fake and a fraud,' she told herself after some deliberation. 'You're a coward! The worst kind of coward!'

  Melanie awoke the following morning with the sun streaming in through the window. She stretched and yawned, trying to remember when last she had slept so soundly, and then she realised suddenly where she was… and why! This was supposed to have been their honeymoon, and Jason had fully intended that it should be, but things had worked out differently. She had spent the night alone in the large bed, and Jason, she supposed, had spent it in the spare room further down the passage.

  It was after eight, she realised with some surprise as she sat up in bed and glanced at her wristwatch. Was Jason still asleep? she wondered as she became aware of the silence in the chalet, then she noticed the folded sheet of white notepaper which had obviously been pushed beneath her door. Hurrying barefooted across the carpeted floor, she picked up the note and unfolded it.

  'I'm taking a stroll down to the car to see what can be done about removing the rocks. Don't expect me back before eleven. Jason.'

  Melanie read it through once more, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she stared at his bold handwriting. After all the angry words he had flung at her last night, stating that she should not expect any consideration from him, it was quite surprising that he should have been considerate enough to leave her this note telling her where he was, and her heart lifted inexplicably.

  Bathed and changed into a pair of faded denims, check shirt and sturdy shoes, she made up the bed and went through to the kitchen. There was no sign that Jason had made himself anything to eat before going out and, making up her mind quickly, she searched the refrigerator and found a packet of cold ham. A half hour later, armed with a basket in which she had packed a flask of coffee, cups and sandwiches, she closed the chalet door behind her and strode out in the direction they had come the previous evening.

  In the daylight, and wearing suitable shoes, it took her a little more than ten minutes to reach her destination, but she hesitated with uncertainty when she caught sight of Jason just below her. In tight fitting black slacks and shirtless, with his tanned, muscular torso rippling as he worked, he presented a different picture entirely from the formidable business executive she had come to know, and she wondered nervously how he would react to her presence after last night. Would he send her away in anger, or would he treat her with cold indifference?

  'Well, there's only one way to find out,' she told herself firmly, and, taking a deep breath of fresh mountain air to steady herself, she covered the remainder of the distance swiftly and dropped lightly on to the road beside him.

  'Good morning, Jason,' she said quietly, and he dropped the rocks he held in his hands and turned to stare at her, his eyes narrowed against the sun, and his face expressionless.

  'You didn't have anything to eat this morning,' she tried again when he continued to stare at her in silence. 'I thought I'd come down here and share my breakfast with you.'

  For several nerve-racking seconds he continued to say nothing, then he nodded abruptly and gestured towards the grass verge beside the road where the shade of an acacia tree offered them sufficient protection from the stinging rays of the sun. They sat down with the basket between them and, while Jason helped himself to a sandwich, Melanie poured their coffee.

  They ate their breakfast to the sound of birds chattering in the trees, and with the vista of ruggedly beautiful mountain peaks all around them. A scavenger hawk, circled lazily against the backdrop of the cloudless blue sky, and Melanie watched it for some time before some sixth sense warned her that she was being observed.

  Turning her head slowly, she met Jason's steady regard, and deep within her something stirred, an awareness so fleeting that it was gone before she could grasp it.

  Unable to look away, she sustained his glance and withstood the searching scrutiny of those steel-grey eyes. She was aware of the same breathless feeling which she had encountered at their first meeting and, puzzled, she finally looked away, focusing her attention on a beetle scurrying into the bushes.

  'What was this all in aid of, Melanie?'

  The sound of his voice startled her and, lowering her gaze to her tightly clenched hands in her lap, she said slowly, 'Perhaps it's just my way of saying… I'm sorry I was such a coward last night.'

  Jason was silent and, stealing a glance at him, she saw that he was staring at her thoughtfully as if he were digesting her apology and assessing its worth.

  'I accept that,' he sai
d at length, gesturing vaguely with his hands, 'but where do we go from here?'

  Determined to prove him wrong in his assessment of her character, she said quite clearly, 'I mean to fulfil my obligations, Jason, but…' She faltered, and swallowed nervously before continuing. 'I need a little time. I— I can't just—'

  'Get into bed with a comparative stranger, even though he does happen to be your husband?' he filled in for her questioningly, and as she nodded, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, he laughed harshly. 'All right, I'll give you time to adjust, and in the meantime we'll just allow nature to take its course.'

  The basket was removed, and the distance between them lessened until she felt his thigh pressing hard against her own. Her nervous glance took in the wide expanse of his hair-roughened chest, the strong column of his throat, and the slightly sardonic expression on his face as his hand gripped her shoulder, forcing her back against the softness of the wild grass that grew high up on the mountains. His wide shoulders were like wings spread out above her, blotting out the sky, and making her aware of her own frailty in the face of such overpowering masculinity. The birds in the trees ceased their chattering, or was it perhaps that her heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out all other sounds? she wondered distractedly:

  'Jason?'

  'In this game kisses and a little light lovemaking have to be permitted,' he explained mockingly. 'It's called physical contact, and right now I'm in need of it.'

  His arms were beneath her, cradling her against the hard warmth of his body while he kissed her sensually and lingeringly, until her body tingled with sensations that left her trembling and breathless when he finally released her and drew her to her feet.

  'That was very nice, but there's work to be done,' he said abruptly, and she was left feeling curiously bereft when he turned his back on her and resumed the task of clearing the road.

  She offered her help, but it was promptly rejected and, swallowing down her disappointment, she returned to the chalet to occupy herself with airing and tidying the rooms until Jason returned.