That Devil Love

by Lee Wilkinson

  When the body craved and the mind denied, the resultant conflict could be fierce. Her body, newly awakened to passion, had refused to go meekly back to innocence.

  Only the thought of Maya, and the revenge she’d planned, had enabled her mind to master her rebellious body and keep her outwardly cool.

  Fire and ice…

  She was standing in front of the dressing-table, about to pin her hair into its usual sleek chignon, when she paused to study the reflection gazing back at her. The patrician face looked beautiful and aloof, coldly perfect, except for that tell-tale mouth.

  Suddenly, savagely, she wanted to destroy that fire and ice image which Zan seemed to find so fascinating.

  Going back into the bathroom, she scrubbed her face until it shone, and plaited her hair into a single thick flaxen rope which she fastened with a stray rubber band from her bag.

  Then, deciding to go the whole hog, she put on a pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt with a fat pink hippo cavorting on it. A holiday present from the twins, which she’d dutifully packed without intending to wear.

  Taking another look at her reflection, she saw with grim satisfaction that in two minutes flat she’d changed from a coldly passionate Snow Queen into an escapee from the fourth form.

  Except that no self-respecting fourth-former would have been seen dead looking so rustic.

  As the old proverb insisted, there was more than one way to kill a cat. If Zan wanted her for that combination of cool sophistication and latent passion, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

  ‘About ready?’ his voice broke into her thoughts.

  ‘Coming,’ she called, and, anticipating his shock, hugged herself.

  If he was startled, he hid it well.

  His well-shaped head of shorn black curls tilted to one side, his eyes ironic, he studied the ridiculous T-shirt, her shiny nose and artless plait. ‘Why the metamorphosis?’

  Innocently, she queried, ‘Don’t you like it?’

  ‘So it was done for my benefit?’

  ‘No, mine.’

  ‘Whichever, I definitely approve.’

  She was wondering uneasily whether his enthusiasm was genuine when, with more than a touch of silky menace, he went on, ‘It adds another dimension to your character. Opens up all kinds of interesting possibilities now the Snow Queen is no longer in evidence.’

  Chills running up and down her spine, she tried to look unconcerned and failed abysmally.

  ‘Come on, then, Pollyanna.’ Smiling tigerishly, Zan picked up her plait, and gave it a tug. ‘Incidentally, I love the pigtail.’

  Ignoring both his smile and his words, suddenly afraid she’d made a terrible mistake, she followed him out to the car.

  During the ride up the coast to Kawaia, where the luau—a native orgy of food, drink and entertainment—was being held, both apparently busy with their thoughts, they spoke little.

  Over the past days their silences had been easy, companionable, but this time they crackled with a sexual tension that made Annis’s nerves feel like overstretched fabric.

  When they reach Kawaia, the wide sandy beach was all excitement and bustle, with flaming torches and colourful native costumes and dozens of holidaymakers out to enjoy the evening.

  Leis were given in a traditional welcome, then everyone took their seats on wooden benches drawn up to long trestle-tables loaded with flowers and exotic Hawaiian dishes.

  As soon as Annis was installed on one of the benches, Zan took a seat by her side, far too close for comfort, the firm warmth of his thigh touching hers, making her heartbeat grow fast and erratic.

  The entertainment—fire-eating, hula dancing, singing, and a group of Hawaiian ladies with long flowered dresses and leis playing banjos—was colourful and amusing.

  Annis smiled and clapped with the rest, and drank some of the sweet white wine, but her appetite had quite deserted her.

  Zan’s tawny eyes never missed a thing. ‘You’d better have some food, or you won’t have strength to fight,’ he said cryptically.

  She made no reply, but, aware of his mocking surveillance, managed to eat a small plate of seafood and some fresh fruit salad.

  When the time came to go, she was both relieved and reluctant, nervously aware of a new sense of purpose in his manner. Aware that the period of calm was over and a new assault was imminent.

  He drove back in silence and followed her into the house. She’d been hoping to escape straight to her room but, his arm around her waist, he propelled her down the stairs saying, ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

  About to argue, she bit her lip. An impassive acceptance might be the best defence. It was far less challenging. And Zan was a man who thrived on challenge.

  While she sat quiet and watchful, he made a pot of coffee with deft efficiency.

  On edge, wary, she accepted and drank a cup of coffee she didn’t want. Then, unable to stand the suspense a moment longer, she stood up abruptly and, turning away, said, ‘I’m going to bed now.’

  Lean fingers encircled her wrist, keeping her there while he stood looking down at her.

  Against her will her gaze was drawn to his. The gleam in his tawny eyes jolted her, putting her in mind of a cat contemplating a saucer of cream.

  Softly, he said, ‘I haven’t kissed you goodnight.’

  ‘But you don’t…you don’t kiss me goodnight any longer.’

  ‘Well, tonight I have a mind to.’ Quite gently, but with unshakeable purpose, he took her face between his palms.

  Smiling down at her, he stroked his thumbs gently, seductively, over her high cheekbones.

  While she stood wide-eyed, hypnotised by that sensuous, caressing movement, he slowly bent his dark head and began to woo her with soft, beguiling kisses.

  Light as thistledown, his lips closed her lids and touched the wildly beating pulse at her temples, before following the curve of her cheek to linger enticingly at the corner of her mouth.

  When they finally settled on hers she was so bewitched and breathless that it scarcely needed the brush of his tongue-tip to coax them to part.

  While his mouth was exploring hers, his fingers were busy undoing the plait, running through the long, silky hair to her waist, then up beneath the baggy T-shirt to release the front fastening of her light bra.

  She gasped as his hands found her breasts, a finger and thumb teasing each nipple so they firmed beneath his touch.

  The exquisite, needle-sharp sensations he was sending through her served to heat the blood in her veins and made her burn as though with fever.

  As she shuddered and whimpered, his arms closed around her and, the flower leis crushed between them, he kissed her with a passionate need that found its counterpart in her hunger for him.

  Lost to everything but the desire he was arousing in her, she made no objection when the deft hands undressed her, and the strong arms carried her up the short flight of stairs to the moonlit bedroom that overlooked the bay.

  Turning back the thin coverlet, he laid her on the big divan bed and sat on the edge looking down at her, alluring as the island goddess Pele, with her long silky hair and the lei of flowers still adorning her bare breasts.

  Then, his hands moving slowly, seductively over her slender body, he kissed her lips, before letting his mouth follow where his hands had already awakened a torment of delight.

  The windows were open wide, and a night breeze drifted in, fanning her heated skin. Perhaps it was that breeze which served to dispel some of the mists of passion and bring back a breath of sanity.

  But even with the return to sanity she seemed incapable of saving herself, unable to break free. It was as though, mind and body, she was under his spell, her whole being held in thrall.

  A bondage she had to break before it was too late.

  If she allowed herself to be seduced just one more time she would be destroyed, torn apart by the ambivalence of her feelings. On one hand this fatal attraction; on the other, the knowledge that she was betraying everything
she’d once held dear.

  Lying quite still, she forced herself to think of Maya and her father, of the home she’d loved.

  Like switching off a heat source, the fiery excitement died, her skin took on a glacial chill and the very blood in her veins seemed to turn to ice.

  He knew at once.

  ‘Ouch!’ Removing his hands, he looked at the palms. As her gaze followed his, he said laconically, ‘Frostbite.’

  When she ignored his attempt at levity, he asked, ‘What’s wrong, Annis?’

  Clearly, she said, ‘I don’t want to sleep with you.’

  ‘But you do.’ His hands closed around the soft flesh of her upper arms.

  She shook her head. ‘That night in San Francisco was a terrible mistake I have no intention of repeating. I despise myself for it.’

  In the moonlight she saw his eyes blaze. Baffled and infuriated by her continued stand, his grip tightened until she almost cried out with pain.

  ‘You’re hurting me,’ she said through stiff lips.

  After a moment that savage grip relaxed, and he shook his head as if to clear it.

  Then, as though he’d decided on a gentle approach, the anger was wiped from his face. ‘Well, talk to me,’ he coaxed. ‘Tell me why you feel that way.’

  Anger she could have coped with, but tenderness, she knew all too well, might prove to be her undoing. Sitting up with a jerk, she made an effort at finality. ‘There’s no point in talking about it.’

  ‘I need to know, Annis.’

  She shook her head. ‘I just want to forget the whole thing.’

  ‘How can you forget the unforgettable?’ His voice grew softer and deeper as he drew her into his arms.

  Dreadfully afraid that if he kissed her again she would be lost, she put her palms against his chest and made an attempt to push him away. ‘Leave me alone,’ she cried. ‘You promised you wouldn’t force me.’

  Letting her go, he drew back. ‘I didn’t force you then. You came to me willingly, eagerly, if you remember.’

  Dragging the bedspread up to cover her nakedness, she said fiercely, ‘I don’t want to remember. I wish it had never happened.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked with urgency. Then, as though wanting to read her expression, he reached for the pull cord, flooding the room with light. ‘Tell me why you wish that.’

  ‘Because I loathe and detest you for what you’ve done to me and my family.’

  ‘I wish to God I’d never used strong-arm methods,’ he admitted. ‘But when you told me Leighton was your lover, I saw red. I couldn’t bear to think of you in his arms, in his bed… That’s what made me lose my head and rush into things, when I should have tried time and patience.’

  ‘No amount of time or patience—’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ he interrupted. ‘But we’ll see, shall we? I still have the best part of a year to make you change your mind.’

  Like a handful of stinging gravel, she threw the words in his face. ‘A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TWO days later they started for home, landing at Heathrow late on a Saturday morning. Spring, though cool, was in full bloom, and London was looking its vibrant best.

  When they reached Griffin House, Mrs Matheson, advised of their return by phone, was waiting to greet them. If she thought they were strangely quiet for returning honeymooners, she kept it to herself, asking merely, ‘Will you be wanting something to eat now?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Zan said. ‘We had an early lunch on the plane.’

  ‘Well, if it’s all right by you, I was hoping to spend the weekend with my sister as usual?’

  ‘Yes, of course. You get off.’ His hard face sardonic, he added, ‘I’ve a wife now to pander to my needs.’

  He carried the luggage upstairs and, without asking, put Annis’s case in the bedroom she’d used before the wedding.

  At the door, he turned to say, ‘When I’ve had a shower, I intend to go into the office… Unless you need me?’

  She looked him in the face, her eyes full of silent derision, and was oddly discomfited when a dark flush appeared along his cheekbones.

  Without a word he left, closing the door behind him with a kind of finality.

  Since he’d walked out of her room the night of the luau he’d been civil, but distant, seldom looking at her and speaking only when necessary. Ignoring the strange feeling of loss, the ache of regret that refused to go away, she’d told herself how pleased she was. That so long as she could keep him at a distance she would be happy.

  But now she wondered, would she? It was as though she couldn’t hurt him without hurting herself.

  She had finished unpacking and was about to take a shower, when she heard his light footsteps returning down the corridor.

  On an impulse, she opened her door and asked, ‘What time will you want dinner?’

  He looked surprised, then, his voice cool, dismissive, answered, ‘I expect to be working late, so I’ll probably eat out.’

  Calling herself all kinds of a fool for feeling wounded because he’d refused the olive branch she’d held out, Annis went to take a shower. Knowing she was far too restless to catch up on lost sleep, and unwilling to sit around twiddling her thumbs, she changed into a smart spring suit and set off to visit Linda and Richard.

  They were delighted to see her. Linda’s first question was, ‘Isn’t Zan with you?’

  ‘He’s gone into the office,’ Annis answered lightly. ‘You know what men are.’

  ‘Is he coming along later?’

  ‘No… I only popped in for an hour or so.’

  ‘Just back from honeymoon—I expect they want the evening to themselves,’ Richard said with a grin.

  ‘Talking of honeymoons…you’ve got a terrific tan!’ Linda exclaimed enviously. ‘Though the weather hasn’t been bad here, beside you Richard and I still look winter-pale.’

  ‘Winter-pale’ they might be, but Annis’s heart lifted to see them both apparently fit and happy, and she could only give fervent thanks that so far things seemed to have worked out well for them. If not for herself.

  ‘How’s the arm now?’ she asked. ‘I see the plaster’s off.’

  ‘It’s nearly as good as new.’ Linda turned her wrist to show the degree of movement. ‘Though I don’t know how I’d manage without Mrs Sheldon. She’s an absolute treasure. She’s taken all the children off to Diana’s first birthday party… Diana is our neighbour’s little girl—’

  ‘Oh by the way,’ Richard butted in on the domestic details, ‘thanks for the postcards…’

  During the time away, Annis had phoned periodically to assure herself that everything was all right, and scrawled one or two hasty cards.

  ‘But they only whetted our appetite, so tell us all about Hawaii…’

  It was well after six before Annis, knowing that to linger any longer might make them wonder, said reluctantly that she’d have to go.

  ‘Sure you can’t stay for a meal?’ Linda asked.

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘That’s a pity,’ Richard remarked, as they accompanied her to the door. ‘Stephen said he might drop in and take pot luck…

  ‘By the way, he seemed positively stunned when I told him you were married. So much so that I half wondered if he was carrying a torch for you…’

  Linda gave Annis a parting hug. ‘Now don’t forget, as soon as you and Zan feel like socialising, come and have dinner with us.’

  The evening was mild and sunny, the sky cloudless. Feeling restless, and in no hurry to get back to an empty house, Annis decided to walk.

  Deep in thought, she didn’t notice the blue Cavalier that had drawn into the kerb until a window rolled down and a familiar voice called, ‘Annis…’

  ‘Stephen… Hello…’ She smiled at him with genuine warmth.

  ‘Annis…’ he said again. Then, almost stammering, ‘H-how nice to see you…’

  ‘It’s nice to see you.’ And it was. Ordinary, kind, unc
omplicated Stephen. A man she was at home with, who didn’t set her heart pounding or quicken her breathing, who posed no threat.

  His ears turning red, he told her, ‘I was on my way to visit Linda and Richard.’

  ‘I’ve just left. Richard mentioned that you might be dropping in.’

  ‘Yes, I… Look, are you in a hurry? I mean, do you have to get back?’

  ‘Well, no…’

  ‘I-I’d like to talk to you. Please…’ He looked almost desperate. ‘What about dinner at Sunter’s? I was planning to take you somewhere special as soon as you were over your flu. But then I had to make an urgent business trip, and when I got back… Look, I’ve just got to talk to you…’

  Suddenly realising what she might be letting herself in for, but feeling she owed him some kind of explanation, she answered unwillingly, ‘All right,’ and climbed into the car.

  A little way up the street from Sunter’s, a parking meter was free. It was still early and the quiet, select restaurant was almost empty. They were shown to a table for two in an alcove, and handed leather-covered menus.

  Made uneasy by the realisation that the imposing building which housed AP Worldwide’s offices was barely a block away, Annis chose hurriedly, not caring what she ate.

  As soon as the waiter had departed with their order, Stephen burst out raggedly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be married?’

  ‘Well, it all happened so suddenly,’ she said helplessly.

  ‘I don’t understand why you married him of all people.’ Almost accusingly, Stephen added, ‘You told me you didn’t even like him.’

  ‘At first I didn’t. But then…’ Not knowing what to say, she hesitated.

  ‘He was interested in you that very first night. Even before he came over I noticed he was watching you. In fact he hardly took his eyes off you…

  ‘I should have known he was up to something when he offered me those damned tickets. But I never imagined…’ Stephen broke off as the waiter returned with the first course.