Dark Awakening

by Sally Wentworth

  Minta stared into his face, shadowed by the moonlight, and thought that he looked more like a devil than a monk. She tried to pull her wrist free. 'I don't give a damn who you went with before you met me. Or what women you go with now, for that matter,' she added insultingly, knowing that it would inflame him.

  It did. He dragged her roughly into his arms, his face white with anger. 'Don't you?' he demanded furiously. 'Don't you really care? How about if I brought Delia back here, then? Made love to her in the main bedroom while you slept alone in the back? Would you still not care?'

  'Shut up! Shut up about her!' Minta yelled at him.

  She struggled to get free, but he had her wrists firmly in his grasp.

  'So that gets to you, does it? You don't like to think of me in bed with another woman, doing the things to her that I've done to you. Maybe you aren't as indifferent as you say you are. So let's find out, shall we?' With a quick movement, he took both her wrists in , one hand behind her back, using the other to grab hold of her hair so that she couldn't move her head away without hurting herself. Then he bent her back against his braced body and lowered his head to kiss her.

  Minta kept her mouth firmly closed, denying a response to his insinuating lips that touched, explored, caressed. His lips hardened then, became more demanding, but still she refused to submit. 'Open your mouth,' he commanded.

  She glared at him out of hostile eyes. 'Go to hell!'

  But she'd pushed him too far. With an oath, he let go her hair and his hand went to the thin straps of her top, jerking at them until the thin silk tore and the top slipped down to her waist.

  'Stop it! How dare you tear my clothes! I…'

  Her protests died away with a shuddering gasp as he found her breasts, handling them roughly, hurting her at first, but then becoming more gentle as he stroked and fondled her.

  'Don't. Leave me alone!' A shudder of emotion, of need racked her, but still Minta tried to pull away. But then his fingers were followed by his mouth and she moaned in exquisite agony. Quickly then his lips were on hers again, hot and frenzied, assaulting her senses until at last she gave in to him, returning his kiss greedily. Dane let go her wrists so that he had both hands free to caress her. His mouth moved across the curve of her chin, the hollows of her cheeks. He caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit gently, then his hot, sensuous lips moved down the column of her throat and found her breasts again.

  Both of them were aroused to an intensity that made them tremble with desire. Minta curled her fingers in his thick hair and arched towards him, giving little groans of pleasure. Somehow they were lying on the grass and Dane tossed aside his jacket, lying on top of her, his weight pinning her down. They kissed hungrily, compulsively, rolling on the ground, while Minta's hands went to his shirt, the buttons tearing in her haste to undo them. The touch of his skin on hers was one of the most exquisite sensations she'd ever known. Dane cried out as she found herself on top of him and bent to suck and bite, rousing him to a frenzy. With a heave, he swung her off him on to the grass again, his eager hands pulling up her skirt. There was no time to take their clothes off, no time for anything but the savage, abandoned act of love, the assuagement of angry frustration in this passionate fusion of their bodies. They were completely lost in wild, ecstatic sexuality, until their bodies convulsed in mutual, searing pleasure.

  CHAPTER SIX

  They spent most of the weekend making love; in bed, in the garden, the bath, or any other part of the house they happened to be in when the need came upon them to re-establish and rediscover their former intimacy. And because of their disagreement, they loved with a deeper intensity, a stronger emotion. After that first time in the garden, Minta had clung to Dane, weeping tears of mingled joy and relief, begging him never to leave her, never to let her go.

  'Oh God, I was so jealous,' she wept. 'I couldn't bear to think of you with anyone else. Swear that you don't love her. Please swear it!'

  'I don't—I promise you, I don't.' Dane put his hands on either side of her head and kissed away her tears.

  'But you had a love affair with her.'

  'No, just an affair. I liked her, but love didn't come into it. It was understood that we were both free to end it whenever we wanted. But it was my fault; I should have realised that she felt vindictive.'

  'No, it wasn't. It was her fault. But I suppose I can understand a little. I know how terrible I'd feel if someone took you away from me.'

  'No one ever will,' Dane assured her thickly. 'I love you and only you. There'll never be anyone else.'

  'Oh, darling, hold me—hold me tight. I don't ever want to be apart from you again.'

  He held her trembling body close in his arms. It was very quiet, just the distant sound of the traffic on the main road and the faint music from someone's radio disturbing the peace of the night. The moonlight lay across them, turning their skin to silver. Minta put up a hand and lightly ran her fingers across Dane's bare chest, from silver to shadow.

  'You remember that day you came home and found her here,' she began huskily.

  'Don't talk about it,' he interrupted brusquely. 'It's over.'

  'Yes, I know. But you remember you came home and said that you'd been thinking all morning about—about how you'd like to make love to me. Had you really been thinking about it?'

  'Of course. And I remember exactly what I meant to do.'

  'Tell me. It's been driving me crazy,' Minta admitted.

  He laughed. 'No, I won't tell you.' He paused, watching the disappointment appear in her face. 'But I'll show you,' he said softly, with such a wealth of heady promise in his voice that she shivered in delighted anticipation.

  Ignoring their discarded clothes, he picked her up and carried her inside and up to the bedroom.

  In some ways those two days made up for the honeymoon they had never had. There were no inhibitions or shyness between them, nothing to stop them experiencing the exquisite pleasure of exploring each other's body, giving and taking pleasure with equal enjoyment. To Minta it seemed wonderful that she had the power to make him want her, and Dane hardly seemed to tire, was always hungry to sample the delights of her body. They seldom left each other's side for more than a few minutes, constantly needing the reassurance of touch and nearness. There didn't seem to be much point in wearing clothes either, for they were constantly either taking them off or taking them off each other. Once Minta went downstairs to prepare a hot snack while Dane showered. She put on a bibbed apron with a frill around it while she worked and still had it on when she carried the meal into the dining- room. Dane was already sitting down while she laid it out, but then she turned round and he discovered that she was completely naked beneath the apron, so the meal was entirely forgotten as one bodily hunger was replaced by another far more urgent one.

  On the Monday Dane had to go to work again and Minta arranged to meet him for lunch. He had a slightly haggard look about the eyes from their long weekend of love, but he walked tall, a new spring in his step. After lunch he took her back to his office and introduced her round. He didn't actually say so, but Minta gathered that he hadn't taken her there before because they had all known about Delia Nelson. He had quite a large office suite on the second floor of a new building in the commercial quarter of the town. Most of the staff were Canarians except for one elderly Englishman who had retired to the island and worked part-time on the accounts. The walls of his personal office were covered with maps and site plans of the time-share development in different scales. Dane spent quite some time explaining everything to her, showing her photographs of the site before they had started and describing how he intended to use the natural features of the land, such as an outcrop of rock, making a pretty waterfall, and incorporate them to enhance the aesthetic appearance of the development.

  'These are the plans of the villas,' he told her, taking some papers from a folder. 'You see, they're basically two- or three-bedroomed and are fully self-catering, but we can also provide a four-bedroomed v
illa quite easily by knocking two of the two-bedroomed type into one. And we also have two blocks of studio apartments which are going to be built here on the side of the hill where there isn't enough space for any villas. That way we hope to get young couples coming here as well as families with children. What do you think of the designs?'

  'They look great. Are the kitchens well equipped?'

  Dane grinned. 'Trust a Cordon Bleu cook to ask that question! I haven't really gone into the details of the equipment for the kitchens yet. Or the decoration and furniture for the other rooms either, come to that.' He looked at her, his eyebrows rising in the slightly mocking way that she loved. 'How would you like to have a go at that job?'

  Minta stared. 'Do you really mean it? But I know nothing about decorating, especially on a scale as large as this.'

  'Your father told me that you'd chosen the decor for your house in London.'

  'Well, yes, but…'

  'Well, that looked pretty good to me. Why don't you take it one room at a time for one villa? I've got quotes for furniture and electrical equipment from a host of companies, but I need someone to choose and then marry everything up so that the villas look good. And it's important that we have the show villas ready as soon as possible so that people can come over and see them and buy their time-share ready for next summer.'

  'Will the villas be ready for sale that soon?'

  'They've got to be,' Dane replied grimly. 'That's why it's so important that as much work as possible is put into this project now, during the off season. Tell you what,' he said less seriously, 'why don't you drive down to the site with me tomorrow and have a look round? Maybe you'll get some ideas.'

  'Okay,' Minta agreed happily. 'And if you like I'll take all the leaflets and things you've got on furniture home with me now and study them. Then tomorrow I'll already have an idea what's available.'

  'Marvellous!' Dane kissed her and she responded enthusiastically. 'Sex-cat,' he murmured against her mouth, his hands on her breasts. 'I've a good mind to lay you across my desk and take you.'

  Minta giggled, loving every minute of it. 'Your staff would get a shock if someone came in and found us!'

  'Mmm,' Dane agreed regretfully. 'Which is why we'll have to abandon the idea, I'm afraid.'

  'Abandon?' she objected pertly. 'Why not just postpone it—until some time when there's no one else around? Then every time you sit at your desk afterwards you'll be able to remember the other use you made of it.'

  'God,' Dane groaned, 'if I did that I'd never get any work done. You're a big enough distraction already. My mind keeps going to you when I should be working. And during those last few days, when you wouldn't let me near you…' He gave a rueful laugh. 'Lord, I must have been hell to work with! Don't ever do that to me again, Minta. I couldn't stand it.'

  'Oh, I won't—I promise I won't. I missed you so much, and I wanted you so much. All of you. Loving me.'

  'Idiot,' Dane said thickly. 'Come here.' Drawing her to him, he began to kiss her, his hands on her waist, then low on her hips, pressing her against him.

  There was a sharp rap on the door and it was immediately opened, giving them no time to move apart. 'Oh, sorry.' It was the English accountant, who gave them a broad grin, in no way embarrassed. 'It's that roof tile company on the line; they insist on speaking to you personally.'

  'Okay, I'll be right there. Send someone to get a taxi for my wife, will you?5 The man went out, shutting the door behind him. Dane gathered up the folder of leaflets and a copy of each of the villa plans. 'You sure you don't mind having a go at this?'

  'No, of course not. I shall enjoy it.' Putting her hands on his shoulders, Minta gazed into his face, almost as if she were committing each feature to memory: his unlined forehead, slightly arched brows, straight nose and strong chin, his mouth which gave a hint of his high sexuality in the lower lip, and his eyes, long-lashed and clear grey, that looked back at her with such emotion in their depths that she suddenly felt too choked up to speak and could only cling to him, blinking back tears.

  'I know,' he said softly, his mouth close to her ear. 'I know.'

  Then he let her go and they smiled at each other, the unspoken vow of love between them, the promise of its fulfilment implicit in their eyes.

  For Minta the next few weeks were the happiest in her life. Most times that Dane had to visit the holiday development site she went with him, taking samples of material and paint charts with her, measuring, working out sizes and colour schemes. And often in the evenings they would sit together, the plans spread out on the dining-room table as soon as the meal was cleared away, discussing her ideas, Dane pointing out any impracticalities, but mostly falling in with her and pleased that she was taking such an interest.

  'I'm putting you on our pay-roll,' he told her. 'You'll get your first salary cheque at the end of the month.'

  'But I don't want any money,' Minta objected. 'I'm enjoying it.'

  'Even so, you're doing a job and you should be paid for it. If I got a firm who specialise in that kind of thing to do it they'd expect to be paid, now wouldn't they?' Bending forward, he kissed the tip of her nose.

  'I suppose so. What's so fascinating about the end of my nose?'

  'I find every part of you fascinating and would like to kiss them all.'

  Minta flushed and said huskily, 'I think you already have. At least, I can't think of any bits that you've missed.'

  'In that case I shall have to start all over again, won't I?' And he lifted his hand to begin undoing her blouse, their work forgotten.

  During the day, when Dane was at his office, Minta spent long, but contented hours scouring the island for the things she needed to furnish the villas, gradually getting to know the island and overcoming the language problem with the help of a middle-aged Canarian, Jose, who spoke English and who had been hired specially to drive the car that Dane had obtained for her use. It gave her a great thrill whenever she tracked down a manufacturer who was willing to supply them direct, and she often got a good bargain, thanks mainly to Jose, who was a born haggler and who was willing to go on bargaining long after Minta would have given up.

  But her greatest delight, as the days passed, was the growing certainty that she was pregnant. Each day she woke, afraid that she might be wrong, then gave a sigh of pleasure when there was still no sign. She hugged the knowledge to her, wanting to be absolutely certain before she said anything to Dane, her silence in some way acting as an insurance policy against anything going wrong. Although he must guess, of course. By now he knew her body as well as she did, better perhaps. But he, too, didn't say anything, content to leave it to her. Minta decided that she would tell him at Christmas. She would give him the most wonderful Christmas present it was in a woman's power to bestow. And perhaps in her growing awareness of maternity, in some new-found maturity, or perhaps just because it was Christmas, Minta decided that after she had told Dane she would also write to her father and tell him the news, try to make it up with him. After all, he was her only relation and he had a right to know that he was to be a grandfather.

  It seemed strange, as the December days went by, to go Christmas shopping in a summer dress with the sun shining and the trees full of leaves. The town, if anything, was busier, full of pale-skinned tourists escaping from the European winter, especially retired people who spent the whole season in the warmer climate, without fear of bronchitis and rheumatism, and all the other ills that dog the old during the harsh winter months. Minta had to make do with an artificial tree of silver tinsel which at first seemed a poor substitute for the large evergreen that had every year filled the house with the bittersweet scent of pine back in London. But she bought ornaments and a set of lights and spent hours making decorations until the living-room, once the curtains were closed, was as festive as any in Britain, although she would have liked an open fire to add the finishing touch to the room.

  Their relationship now was almost as perfect as any two people could attain. Minta lived for Dane in
that she missed him whenever he was away and looked forward eagerly to his return. Her thoughts were always full of him, of how she could please him in even the smallest ways: cooking meals that he liked, keeping the house welcoming, making herself look as attractive for him as she could. And always ensuring that she kept him happy in bed. They had never spoken of Delia Nelson again after they had made up, but it was always there at the back of Minta's mind, and she wanted to be sure that Dane never thought of the other girl with even a shadow of regret.

  With the help of Jose she was beginning to learn Spanish, although Dane teased her that she would have a Canarian accent, and she was learning the correct amounts of food to buy in metric weights and how to ask for them in the market. Sometimes, too, she would persuade Jose to let her take over the car on the country roads so that she was gradually getting used to driving on the right and the crazy way that some of the islanders drove. And she cooked dinner nearly every night now, the two of them content to stay at home, although Dane would sometimes phone and impulsively tell her to change and insist they go out, taking her dining and dancing till the early hours of the morning. Whatever he wanted to do she was happy, so long as she was with him, able to reach out and touch him, hear his voice, have the reassurance of his nearness.

  What to buy him for Christmas was a pleasant problem; Minta had bought him lots of small things but couldn't decide on his main present, torn between half a dozen ideas, but then she found a really beautiful modern leather documents case in El Corte Ingles which she was sure he would appreciate. She took it home in triumph, wrapping it immediately so that he wouldn't see it, hiding it for good measure, in the back of the deep, old-fashioned wardrobe in the spare bedroom. As she pushed the jumble of shoe boxes and bags aside to find a space for the parcel, Minta saw the brightness of material and pulled it out, thinking that one of her dresses must have fallen off a hanger. But then she recognised the dress as the one she had been wearing on the disastrous day that Delia Nelson had played that cruel trick on her—on them both. Minta remembered now that she had taken the dress off and in a fit of temper thrown it into the wardrobe, too angry to hang it up. Holding it up to the light, she saw that the dress was terribly creased and there were grass stains on it where she had lain in the garden and cried. It would have to be washed. As she carried the dress over to the laundry basket, she automatically put her hand into the pockets to check that they were empty, but she came to a standstill as she took out a piece of paper and recognised it as the one Delia Nelson had given her with her address on it.