'Davina,' he said heavily, 'why did you refuse to marry me?' His voice was cold.
Davina clenched her hands in her lap. 'Jake, why must we go over all this again? It's in the past and…' She hesitated, afraid she was going to cry again.
'Why, Davina, I want to know?' he insisted. 'I know you wanted me. You still do… almost as much as I want you. I'm no boy—I can feel that. So why? Answer me!'
She spoke quietly into the silence.
'Because I couldn't marry without love,' she said simply.
'Yours or mine,' he asked evenly.
'Both.'
'And at that time… when I asked you… was there someone you loved, enough for marriage?'
The question hung in the air between them.
'Jake, I… won't go on with this question and answer game. You have no right to… It's all over, and it's best left… please!'
He came back to stand over her, and she could feel the violence in him, barely held in check as he fought for control, his hands clenched into his pockets, his face set and grim.
'Davina, I'm warning you. I want an answer, and I won't be responsible for what I do next if you don't give me one. When I asked you to marry me, was there someone you loved?'
'Yes.'
'Was it Philip?' he shot at her.
She didn't look at him. 'No,' she said quietly.
Strangely she felt the tension in him ease, and she looked up. Their eyes met, and Jake's were deeply dark with pain and a bleakness she remembered seeing only once before, in the hall of his father's house. Her own unhappiness seemed to recede as she looked at him. She longed to comfort him, and instinctively she made a move towards him, holding out her arm. But at that moment he turned away from her and didn't see it. He put a hand wearily through his hair and straightened up.
'Very well,' he said at last. 'I'll take you back to your car.' His voice was indifferent.
Davina got up, trembling, giddy with emotion, tension tight in her throat. It was even harder to leave him this time. She longed to throw herself into his arms, uncaring whether he loved her. Instead she walked unsteadily to the door.
And then choice was taken away, as he moved and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She made a feeble attempt to pull away, but his hands gripped her. As his head bent to hers, she knew she couldn't stop him a second time. She trembled at his nearness, the familiar heat spreading through her body at his touch. And then they were kissing, hungrily, longingly, their arms locked round each other as his mouth deepened possessively against hers. His hand went to her head, scattering the pins until her hair uncoiled and fell heavily down her back.
'Do you know how I've longed to do this?' He buried his face against her, trailing his fingers through her hair, breathing in her fragrance. He bent his head to kiss the hollow between her breasts as his hands caressed her, moving on her bare shoulders as he pushed aside her dress.
'Davina, I want you so. I don't care any more about … anything else. Please let me make love to you…'
She hardly heard him, conscious only of his hands and his mouth returning to her parted lips with increased passion. She felt him tremble against her as he pulled her softness tight to his hardened muscles, his hands on the smooth skin inside her dress. She didn't resist when he picked her up and carried her through the silent flat, her arms round his neck, her face buried against his shirt where she could feel the heat of his body and hear the hammering of his heart. Dimly she knew she would probably regret what she was doing because he didn't love her, but her mind was whirling into darkness, only her senses piercingly aware of her own need of him, her aching desire for him to love her completely, to belong to him as she had wanted to for so many endless nights.
He put her down on his bed, his eyes on her body, ardently, as if he could not stop gazing at her, till she felt suddenly shy and locked her arms round her breasts, the colour flooding her face.
'No,' he whispered urgently, 'don't hide from me… let me look at you. You're so beautiful, so much more than I ever imagined…'
And then she was in his arms, his hard body warm and close against her, his lips and tongue finding nerve ends on her soft skin that roused her to a passion she would never have dreamed possible. She felt she was drowning, her longing for him at fever pitch, and she dug her fingers into the smooth, silky skin of his back, drawing him closer. She heard him groan as he crushed her body into the softness of the bed beneath him in a frenzy of wanting and needing.
'Jake,' she breathed, 'please, will you be gentle…'
He stiffened into rigidity, and for an endless moment he was totally still. Then he rolled away from her and, in one swift movement swung himself off the bed, standing with his back to her.
The wrench was so terrible and unexpected, she just lay there, inert with shock, unable to move.
'Jake, what is it?' He didn't reply. 'Please,' she whispered, 'Jake, I don't understand… what's happened?'
'Leave it, will you, please, Davina?' His voice was ragged. There was a stony silence. Then he moved, reaching for a robe and belting it round him. 'Why didn't you tell me?' he said at last.
'Tell you what?'
'That you're still a virgin.'
'But… I thought you knew.'
'Oh, God, Davina, I never really believed…'
'But what does it matter?' Davina said piteously.
'I don't play about with virgins,' he said harshly, his voice oddly strangled.
'Play about? Is that what it…?' Her voice tailed away into silence.
'Get dressed, Davina. I'll drive you home,' he said jerkily.
The door closed behind him and she was alone. She lay there unable to grasp what had happened. One moment Jake was blazing with passion and they were almost lovers, the next minute there was nothing, just an emptiness beyond tears.
She felt ice-cold and began to shiver, her body shaking uncontrollably. What had she done? Was it her lack of experience? Could he only enjoy making love to women who knew exactly what to do?
She had to get out before he came back. She didn't want him to take her home. She couldn't bear to see him again, ever. She felt a deep shame and humiliation at the wanton way she had shown him her love, her desire for him. Oh, God, what a nightmare!
She slipped off the huge bed and found her clothes on the floor. She dressed hurriedly, her fingers fumbling, unable to cope with the familiar movements. Finally dressed, she crept out into the corridor to the sound of water running—a shower. It sounded unnaturally loud in the hushed flat, and she prayed she could escape unseen. The living room was empty and she reached for her bag and coat. Stumbling out into the hall, she opened the front door noiselessly, letting it click quietly shut behind her. She ignored the lift and rushed down the stairs, holding tightly to the banisters to avoid tumbling headlong.
Dizzy and shaking, she reached the ground floor and ran out into the street, stunned to see it was still daylight. She seemed to have lived a lifetime in the last hour. She hailed a taxi and subsided into the dark interior, rigid with shock.
CHAPTER TEN
The hospital smell hit her as she walked in through the main doors and asked the way to the ward. Following the signposts, she found it eventually, and the staff nurse asked her to wait.
'Mr Humphries has a visitor,' she said pleasantly, 'and we don't want to tire him. Sister has left orders that he's to have only one visitor at a time.'
'Oh,' Davina was suddenly terrified that Jake might be there after all. She had checked with his office and been told he was tied up with meeting until late.
'The lady has been with him some time, so it shouldn't be long to wait,' the staff nurse said cheerfully, and left Davina sitting on the hard vinyl bench in the corridor, voices and footsteps a blur around her.
She wondered again if it had been a mistake to come. She did want to see Jake's father, but what would they talk about? They had only one subject in common, and she could not imagine talking about Jake without giving herself a
way, letting him see her hurt and unhappiness.
It was only forty-eight hours since she had fled from Jake's bed. She had reached home and rushed up to her flat in panic and locked herself in, collapsing on the bed in a fit of weeping that left her weak and trembling.
The phone had rung incessantly, and Mrs Blunt had come up several times to knock and call, but Davina had refused to answer. Eventually the ringing had stopped. She wondered if it had been Jake, but found it didn't matter. Nothing had mattered that night. She relived the afternoon with Jake, the moments of passionate intensity and the terrible humiliation of the end. Shame and disgust filled her when she thought about her own loss of control. She had almost begged him to make love to her, showing him all too clearly how she felt. And in the end he hadn't wanted her, not even physically.
Her only clear hope was that she would never have to see him again, that somehow she could walk out of his life once more and stay out of it for good.
Sunday she had stayed indoors, unable to sit still, wandering round the flat, her mind a blank and her body incapable of even the simple things of dressing and eating. On Monday morning she had finally emerged, eyes totally withdrawn, her face heavy with make-up. She went round to see Maddy, who was frantically busy, surrounded by ringing phones and knee-deep in crises.
'I've cancelled your job for the week and found a replacement,' said Maddy, far from pleased.
'Thank you.' Davina didn't know where to start explaining. 'And I'm sorry.'
They were not alone in the office. Maddy's secretary was handling clients and phone calls at the other end of the room.
'Maddy, I want a job abroad… anything, anywhere,' Davina said flatly, and Maddy looked at her intently.
'Do you want to talk about it?'
'No,' Davina said baldly.
Maddy's voice was cool and impersonal. 'You know I don't handle that kind of job, but I have plenty of mates with jobs abroad on their books.' She turned to Davina. 'How soon could you go?'
'Immediately,' Davina said evenly.
'Passport?'
'Yes, up to date.'
'Fair enough. I'll get on to it. Give me a ring this afternoon or first thing tomorrow. And now, love, if there's nothing else, I have to turf you out. There's rather a lot on today.' Maddy looked straight into Davina's eyes. 'You have my home number. If you want to ring me or see me this evening, I'll be home.'
'Thanks, Maddy. You're too good to me,' said Maddy with a catch in her throat.
'And for God's sake get yourself something to eat,' Maddy said roughly. 'You look ghastly!'
'Davina Richards! Well, well, well, what a surprise!' The voice was cool and faintly familiar.
Davina looked up at the elegant young woman in front of her. The corridor was crowded with nurses and trolleys and for a moment she didn't recognise the sophisticated brunette in a fashionable silk jersey suit, high-heeled sandals and a mink jacket draped over one shoulder, a frothy wisp of a chiffon hat on exquisitely cut black curls. It was Anita.
'Hello.' Davina's voice was cool.
'What are you doing here?' Anita cooed.
'Waiting to see Mr Humphries.'
'Senior or Junior?' Anita enquired archly.
'How is he?' Davina ignored Anita's last question.
'As well and depressed as can be expected, but I managed to cheer him a little. But I'm surprised to see you here. I rather thought you'd… er… severed your connections with the family.' Anita stared at Davina's ringless left hand. 'All that finished rather smartly, didn't it? Did you ever find that love we heard so much about last time we met?'
Davina flushed at the memory of her own outburst at their last meeting.
'Well, never mind,' Anita said consolingly, 'things don't always turn out as we expect, do they?' She sat down next to Davina in a rush of expensive perfume. 'Who would have thought that your hand would be ringless so soon and mine would carry the wedding ring?' She held out her left hand and showed Davina the glittering diamond with its matching white gold wedding ring.
Davina caught her breath. Anita and Jake were married! She felt the colour drain from her face, and the familiar giddiness take hold of her till she was certain she would black out. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands in an effort to avert a faint. After a moment the nausea passed and her throat eased slightly.
'My congratulations,' she said faintly.
'Thank you. How kind.' Anita's voice held a note of triumph. 'It all happened quite suddenly after that week-end when we met, you know. In fact it was so sudden for both of us, we haven't had time for a honeymoon, but now at last we're going and I shall have him to myself, cruising in the Caribbean… Isn't that thrilling?' Davina said nothing. 'Any girl would envy me that, don't you think?'
Davina stood up. 'I must be going. I've been waiting to go in.'
'Oh, do hang on another minute.' Anita looked round. 'Jake should be here in a moment. He's picking me up. Do wait. I know he'll want to say hello… after all this time.'
Davina turned away. 'Excuse me,' she muttered, and forced herself to walk slowly up the corridor away from Jake's wife, determined the younger woman should not see her break down.
She turned the next corner, not caring where she went, only desperate to be out of sight of the girl Jake had married. Oh, God, how she envied her! This was the answer to that ghastly time in his flat. This was why he couldn't go through with their lovemaking. At the last moment he couldn't be unfaithful to his wife. She should have known. After all, she had been prepared for it.
Blindly she made for the nearest exit and walked in a daze out to the main road, where she flagged down a taxi.
'Paddington,' she directed him.
Home—that was what she needed. To go home where she could hide. The capital was no longer large enough to hold them both. The fear of running into Jake or having him track her down was now too great.
She thought fleetingly of luggage, of her car still at Georgina's, and found she didn't care about any of it. She would wait for the next train to Cornwall to take her home. A sense of relief swept over her at the thought of leaving London.
An hour later she was sitting in a crowded compartment of the Cornish Riviera Express, glad of the people and chat all round her, an escape from her own thoughts and problems. She spent the greater part of the journey in the dining car, over lunch and then back again for tea, grateful to the waiters who allowed her to linger while others came and went, and they cleared the debris of meals.
She watched idly as the congested urban housing gradually changed to the green of grass and crops. They travelled through a thunderstorm which brought a strange release to her own turbulent emotions. And then the shadows of animals in the fields lengthened and they were in Cornwall.
St Ives station was packed and bustling, in full season with holiday visitors. Davina debated whether to ring home and let her parents know she was on the way, but decided against it. It was almost dark when the taxi dropped her at the end of the road, anxious to return to more waiting customers.
As she opened the gate she noted her mother's roses in full bloom, a riot of yellows, pinks and oranges. Trepidation returned as she rang the bell. Had it been a mistake to drop in like this? The house was dark. Perhaps they were out?
She rang again and heard her father's voice.
'Hang on, I'm coming!' Relief gripped her throat as he opened the door, a newspaper in one hand. 'Ina!' there was no doubt of his happiness at the sight of her. He opened his arms and she went straight into them.
'My dear,' he said, 'what a surprise! Why didn't you let us know? Your mother's out, at Aunt Nancy's. She's not been too well.'
He held her at arm's length, looking at her face shadowed by the light of the hall lamp. There was a sudden silence as he saw her weariness, the dark shadows in her eyes and the pinched tension in her face. Davina looked away, unable to hold his gaze.
'It's good to be home,' she began lightly. 'I just came— I hope that's all right. A sudden u
rge to see you both, to be home for a bit.'
They turned and walked to the living room.
'Your mother will be over the moon,' her father said lightly, slightly selfconscious as he remembered their last meeting.
'London just seemed stifling,' Davina realised she was chatting about nothing, but couldn't seem to stop, 'and I felt I had to get away… from the weather, I mean, and the crowds.'
Her father stopped, 'What am I thinking of?' he exclaimed, 'you must be starving, you poor girl. What can I get you to eat?'
'Oh, no, I ate on the train, but I'd love a cup of tea.'
'Good,' he said turning to the kitchen, 'that gives me an excuse to have one.'
In the kitchen she watched him, sitting in her favourite position, elbows on the table, her face cupped in her hands.
'Er… no luggage?' he asked. 'It must have been sudden.' He turned round to face her. 'Er… is everything all right? Nothing wrong?' She looked away from him in slight confusion. 'Well, never mind' he went on, busy with cups and saucers, 'but I think I should tell you I've spoken to Jake Humphries… twice.'
'Oh, no!' the cry rang with suppressed emotion and he turned round. He looked at her for a moment, then came across to stand by her chair, stroking her hair as he used to do when she was little. She leaned against him.
'It's bad, isn't it?' he asked gently.
'Oh, Dad, it's all such a muddle! Please tell me why you talked to Jake.'
'Well, the first time was when I called your office to speak to you and was told you'd left, you weren't working there any more. I asked to speak to Jake and he confirmed that you'd left and that you and he… had decided to part.'
The silence was heavy and Davina forced herself to speak. 'I'm sorry, I should have let you know. Were you worried?'
'A little,' he said, and moved when the kettle began to whistle. 'Your mother more than I. She was all for rushing up to town to see you, but I persuaded her that you'd be in touch as soon as you wanted us to know what had happened.' He smiled at her, putting the hot tea on the table in front of her. 'And I was right—here you are. And now there's no rush. You tell us whatever you want in your own good time.' He sat down opposite her and stirred sugar into his cup.
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