Bewildered Haven

by Helen Bianchin

  'Is that so?' he drawled quizzically. 'This conversation tends to prove illuminating. Do continue,' he ordered calmly as he crossed his arms and leant against the wall.

  'No, I shan't,' Jenny refused somewhat emphatically. 'You're far too arrogant as it is after years of being assured by countless females just how charismatic your masculine magnetism is, so you can do without my endorsement!'

  Zachary's subdued shout of laughter echoed round the room and his eyes were frankly teasing as they rested upon her features. 'You won't admit it, Jenny, but your fate is very firmly sealed. I have you exactly where I want you, and you know it!'

  'Not completely, you haven't,' she felt compelled to add, and her eyes sparkled witchingly.

  'I'll remind you of that remark in two weeks' time,' he threatened lazily as he let the water out from the basin and carefully dried her arm Jenny watched in idle fascination as his strong hands applied the sterile dressing and placed a square of gauze over it, fixing it firmly with a few holding strips of plaster before winding a gauze bandage around her arm to protect the dressing. A further few strips of plaster held the bandage in place, and Jenny dried her hands as Zachary replaced the articles back into the cupboard.

  Jenny thanked him nicely, and choked on the last word ,as he lowered his head and kissed her very thoroughly.

  The remainder of the evening was rather hazy—no doubt due to the effects of the brandy she had consumed. Jenny seemed to recollect dancing close within the protective circle of Zachary's arms for much of the time, and she found it hard to believe that it was three o'clock in the morning when the last of the guests took their leave.

  Jenny subsided wearily on to the settee in the lounge while she waited for Zachary to dismantle the stereo speakers and tape-recorder in the garden. It was so comfortable and so easy simply to lay her head down against the cushioned arm. The burn above her wrist still stung a little, but it no longer bothered her much, Hmm, it was comfortable, and perhaps she could doze for a few minutes until Zachary was ready to take her home to the fiat, she mused dreamily.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jenny awoke to the sound of repeated tapping at her door, and dazedly she tried to orientate herself with her strange surroundings. This wasn't her bedroom, nor was it her bed! A quick glance revealed that she was still partially dressed, and in a flash it dawned on her that she was here in Zachary's home and that there was someone wishing entry into the room.

  'Who—who is it?' Jenny queried hesitantly, and heard to her relief the sound of Mrs. Lowry's voice from the other side of the door.

  'Come in,' Jenny called, and searched hurriedly for something to put on over her scantily clad body.

  Mrs. Lowry set the coffee down beside the bed and smiled a little at Jenny's discomfiture. 'Good morning, Jenny. I'm sorry to have to waken you, but Mr. Benedict wants to leave immediately after lunch, and as it's now eleven-thirty I thought you'd like to rise in time for a shower. I've freshened up your skirt and top with the iron, and I've brought you a towelling robe. You'll find everything else you need in the bathroom.'

  Jenny swallowed convulsively, 'Thank you, Mrs, Lowry.'

  'That's quite all right, dear. When Mr. Benedict found you were sleeping so soundly, he didn't have the heart to waken you,' Mrs. Lowry explained kindly.

  'Is—is Mr. Benedict—Zachary, I mean—is he still in bed?' Jenny queried tentatively, and started visibly as Zachary's tall frame appeared in the doorway.

  'Good morning, lazybones,' he drawled imperturbably, and entered the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 'I was beginning to think you intended to sleep the day away.'

  Jenny slid abruptly down in the bed and drew the covers protectively up to her chin, and her eyes searched his a trifle anxiously as Mrs. Lowry left the room. He looked totally invincible, and clothed in black suede trousers and a black body-shirt casually unbuttoned at the neck he appeared vaguely piratical.

  'You should have woken me and taken me home,' Jenny voiced hesitantly, and nervously plucked at the hem of the sheet.

  'I tried, Jenny-wren—believe me,' he looked down at the picture she made lying there with her golden-brown hair splayed out against the pillow. 'You simply muttered in your sleep and burrowed your head more deeply into the cushion,' he reflected wryly, then shrugged his shoulders negligently. 'How's the arm this morning?' he queried, subtly changing the subject as Mrs. Lowry appeared in the doorway with Jenny's skirt and halter-necked top over her arm.

  'It feels all right, thank you,' Jenny answered politely, and blushed at the quizzical mocking gleam he directed down at her. Was there nothing that could upset his apparent calm? Didn't he care that she might be embarrassed at having spent the night unchaperoned in his home, or what obvious conclusion Mrs. Lowry must have formed?

  'Propriety, Jenny-wren?' Zachary drawled enigmatically, and there was a hint of wryness in his tone as his lips curved into a slight smile. 'Had I intended to seduce you it would have been in my own sizeable bed, and you wouldn't have wakened harbouring any doubts about where you were—or with whom,' he finished quietly, and Jenny cast him an anxious glance—if she were not mistaken there was definitely an underlying threat in those quietly spoken words!

  'I—I think you're the most—most impossible man I've ever met,' Jenny choked indignantly, and coloured painfully as he traced her lips with a gentle forefinger.

  'Undoubtedly,' he affirmed complacently, rising to his feet and moving towards the doorway. 'I'll check that' dressing on your arm when you're ready.'

  Jenny watched him cautiously, sure of the turmoil within her. at his provoking presence. Almost as if he could read her thoughts he turned, and there was a devilish glint in the depths of his dark quizzical eyes. Then he was gone and the door had closed with a soft click behind him. Jenny lay surveying the door contemplatively for a few seconds before throwing back the covers on the bed and swinging her legs to the floor, loving the feel of the luxurious shag-pile carpet beneath her feet.

  It seemed strange to be sitting opposite Zachary at the breakfast table eating a delicious bacon and mushroom omelette followed by toast and coffee.

  'The first of many,' Zachary slanted across at her as Jenny sipped her coffee, and she was tempted to reply impishly.

  'You're very sure of that, Zachary Benedict, What if I prefer toast and coffee in bed?'

  'I daresay that could be arranged on occasion,' he intimated with a blandness that was belied by the sudden flaring of his eyes as he caught and .held her gaze.

  Jenny almost choked on a mouthful of coffee, and when she regained her composure Zachary was regarding her laconically, his face creased into laughter and his eyes agleam with sheer devilry.

  'If you've finished your coffee,' he laughed softly as he watched the delicate colour tinge her cheeks, 'we'll get on our way. You will want to collect some clothing from your flat before we leave for Tauranga.'

  Jenny pulled a face at him and successfully masked the havoc he seemed to cause within her. Perhaps it was just as well he would be away for a week—at this rate she would end up as a completely nervous wreck!

  At the flat she packed with haste, folding clothes into a suitcase, shoes, lingerie—selecting at random something suitable to wear to dinner that evening. The dress of indian muslin with the crochet-lace insertions seemed ideal as the long sleeves would cover the dressing on her arm. She was acutely aware of Zachary's presence as he strolled about the flat idly checking that the windows and the back door were securely fastened. With a decisive snap Jenny closed the clasps of her suitcase and gathered up her make-up bag. There, that seemed to be everything.

  'Ready?' Zachary enquired from the doorway, and Jenny nodded as she handed him the larger of the two suitcases.

  With controlled ease Zachary sent the Mercedes-Benz purring south-west towards the southern motorway, and the miles flew quickly by as they sped through the lush green countryside. Shortly before they passed through Paeroa it began to rain lightly, increasing in volume until it was ra
ining steadily and it did not let up at all until they were almost to Katikati, and then the sky began to clear in patches of blue.

  The outskirts of Tauranga were endearingly familiar and when the Mercedes-Benz turned into the Meredith's driveway Jenny felt strangely shy. Almost on cue both her mother and Jane flew down the steps to the car and there was a tearful greeting for her from her mother and an ecstatic hug from Jane.

  Jenny stood by the car and formally introduced Zachary to her mother, feeling bemused and rather at a loss as both Mrs. Meredith and Jane exclaimed over the magnificence of her engagement ring.

  She could tell Zachary had made an impact with her mother. It was quite incredible that somehow in the space of a few minutes they had seemed to communicate almost by mental telepathy—that her mother's slight questioning seeking glimpse into Zachary's eyes had been answered by a steadfast gleam of reassurance from his. That there had been and would be no need for words between them over her welfare.

  Once inside the house the suitcases were hastily placed into their respective rooms—Zachary was to have Jane's room, and Jane would occupy the spare bed in Jenny's room. Then Mrs. Meredith took out her best cut-crystal glasses in which to drink the champagne Zachary produced from the car.

  'Health and everlasting happiness to you both,' Mrs. Meredith smiled at them as Jenny stood firmly clasped to Zachary's side, her fingers intertwined in his, and she felt warm and wonderfully secure.

  'A boy for you,' Jane smiled gently towards Jenny, 'and a girl for you, Zachary,' she smiled charmingly up at him, and her eyes took on an impish gleam as she espied Jenny's slight blush.

  Jenny felt Zachary's fingers strengthen their clasp on hers and her pulse quickened and raced at the thought of him fathering her children. She felt her breath catch as he leant down and kissed her fleetingly, and there was a latent sensuality in the touch of his lips upon hers.

  'What more could a man wish for than two golden-haired angels with their mother's smile and that tantalising dimple?' he asked, lightly touching the slight dent on her left cheek.

  'Or two dark-haired terrors with their father's determination,' Jenny flashed up at him. 'I bet you were a perfectly horrid little boy!'

  'I managed to survive,' he drawled tolerantly, and the corners of his mouth twitched with barely concealed humour.

  'That reminds me,' Mrs. Meredith chuckled good-naturedly as she sipped the sparkling liquid. 'Go and get the photograph album, Jane,' she bade laughingly, and shook her. head at Jenny's silently mouthed emphatic 'no!'

  'Good as done,' Jane replied flippantly, and was back within minutes carrying the, thick red leather-bound album which much to Jenny's chagrin was spread out on the coffee table and the contents exclaimed over and details related to Zachary with friendly family fervour. Oh, that he should smile with amusement at a snap of her at six months old lying blithely unconcerned on a shawl as naked as a jaybird!

  'I see you possess dimples elsewhere,' he directed towards her in a low laughter-choked undertone.

  'Your turn will come, Zachary Benedict—just you wait!' Jenny threatened him caustically, for her embarrassment was very real. It was silly, really, to feel so foolishly gauche over her mother's pride and joy—a lifetime collection of family photographs. By the time her first school photographs were unfolded within the pages Jenny was smiling, and to her surprise when the snaps that included Max were revealed she could look at his familiar face and feel nothing. No hurt pride, not even the slightest flicker of regret—nothing. If perchance he could walk through the door she could greet him as a friend and be glad that he had taken the initiative to break their engagement.

  'I'm taking a day off at the end of this week, Jenny,' Jane told her sister as they were changing in their bedroom a short while later. 'If it's okay with you, I'll stay over a couple of nights and fly back early Monday morning. I want to do some shopping in the city on Friday.'

  Jenny grinned companionably at her sister's reflection in the mirror as they both began to apply make-up. 'Great. Quite frankly I'll be glad of your company. Zachary leaves early Tuesday morning for Wellington, and the time will drag as he won't be back until the following week.'

  'At least I'll be able to see you married before I leave for Australia,' Jane sparkled as she brushed mascara on to her lushes. 'Mother says it's to be at a register office. Have you decided what you're wearing?'

  Jenny's eyes flicked wide in surprise. Truth to tell she hadn't given that a thought!

  'Exactly what I imagined,' Jane laughed spontaneously at her sister's reflection. 'We'll go shopping together this Friday evening—perhaps you could work through your lunch-hour and get off an hour early?' she suggested as she turned her attention to her hair.

  'Possibly,' Jenny allowed thoughtfully, and stepped into her dress, Turning to allow Jane to slide home the long zip-fastener at the back.

  'Did Zachary mention to you that he'd suggested Bob and Elvira Hamilton join us tonight? Kind of him to think of it,' Jane commented as she hooked the tiny hook into the eye above the zip.

  'Thanks, Jane,' Jenny murmured as she wound her hair into an elaborately contrived knot, and when entirely satisfied with the result eased a few strands free from behind her ears and used Jane's electric curler so that an elegant curl wound tantalisingly down below each earlobe.

  'There,' Jane breathed in satisfaction of their appearance a few minutes later. 'I think we'll both pass muster very nicely.'

  Jenny eyed her sister and smiled kindly across at her. 'You look lovely, Jane. That shade of green does wonders for your skin and highlights the rich auburn of your hair.'

  Jane leaned forward and gave Jenny an affectionate hug. 'You're a sister in a million, Jenny. You deserve all the happiness in the world.'

  Jenny grinned and replied laughingly. 'Hey, what is this—a mutual admiration society?'

  Jane's voice gurgled with laughter as she caught up her evening bag and crossed to the bedroom door, 'Come on,' she beckoned lightheartedly. 'We'd both better rescue Elvira from Zachary's fatal charm. She's susceptible to handsome sophisticated men, and no doubt by now she's feeling terribly tongue-tied and shy,'

  'Jane!' Jenny expostulated mildly, and would have spoken further had Jane not interrupted merrily.

  'It's true! She's such a romanticist, it's unbelievable. If Zachary doesn't watch out, he'll find himself described as a dashing swashbuckling hero in her next historical novel!'

  'In that case,' Jenny smiled gently across at her sister, 'I'm sure he would feel flattered.'

  The evening was a huge success, and Jenny felt instinctively that any doubts her mother might have entertained prior to meeting Zachary were now completely dispelled. Mrs. Meredith appeared relaxed and at ease, and seemed to be regarding Zachary as the son she would have chosen had she been fortunate enough to have had a son of her own. Incredible as it was, in all the years Jenny had known Max, not once could she remember her mother regarding Max in the light she was now regarding Zachary. And it wasn't because of his wealth or rather exalted profession—of that Jenny was positive, for Mrs. Meredith was no snob. Jane once remarked that should the Prime Minister and his wife perchance call in at the Meredith residence, her mother would smile nicely and enquire kindly if they would like a cup of tea—-just as she would do for anyone else, with no fuss or bother!

  'Dare a friend intrude on those innermost thoughts?' The sound of Bob's teasing voice brought Jenny back to the present and she cast him an apologetic glance as they circled the dance-floor.

  'No innermost thoughts to intrude upon, Bob,' Jenny assured him smilingly. 'I was thinking how well Mother seems to have taken my engagement to Zachary,' she went on to explain as her eyes followed Zachary's splendidly tailored figure as he guided her mother amongst the dancing couples.

  'He's a great guy, and I mean that,' Bob assured her earnestly. 'It couldn't have happened to two nicer people—you and Zachary,' he hastened with enthusiasm. 'Mostly everyone miscasts him as an elusive rake, and I suppose it
's suited him to assume such a role— heaven knows, he's in constant demand socially.'

  'Nice to know you approve,' Jenny teased wryly a few minutes later as they weaved their way back to the table, and her eyes sparkled up at Zachary with a wickedness that caused him to quirk an enquiring eyebrow.

  'And what, may I ask, was all that about?' he chided mockingly as they drifted together in the centre of the dance-floor some ten minutes later.

  Jenny lifted her head, and an imp of mischief dared her on. 'I do believe Bob felt honour-bound to discount all your previous rakish misdemeanours as a form of social precedence,' she began, the dimple deepening as she grimaced unrepentantly. 'Naturally, as a married man, you'll be a reformed character and become a model husband!'

  'You, my dear Jenny,' Zachary drawled dangerously as his hold tightened with gripping intensity, 'are intolerably close to the spanking you deserve for those few ill-chosen remarks.'

  Jenny's stomach somersaulted and dived in a disastrous downward arc. Remorse over the inane comments she had made caused her to lower her head in shame. Of all the silly inconsequential things to say! What on earth had possessed her tongue to utter those words—worse, what could she say now in an attempt to retract them? 'I'm sorry,' she managed in a subdued whisper, and her voice was muffled with unshed tears as she fixed the silken knot of his tie with a blurred unwavering stare.

  'And so you should be,' Zachary slanted wryly at her downcast head.

  'I could hardly blame you if—if—' Jenny faltered, momentarily lost for words, and feeling agonisingly bereft at having angered him.

  'For what could I hardly be blamed?' he questioned inexorably, but there was a hint of wry humour evident in his voice as he rested his lips on the top of her head.

  'Spanking me,' Jenny's voice was so quiet he had to bend down closer to catch her words.

  'And you believe that I would,' he commented sardonically.

  Jenny lifted her head and met his gaze, and there was mute appeal mirrored in her eyes. 'I think you could be very cruel if you wanted to be,' she managed unsteadily after timeless seconds, and her voice sounded wobbly with emotion even to her own ears.