by Sara Craven
‘She told me you’d had all my clothes packed and were sending Mr Ashby round with them.’
‘Indeed?’ he said carefully. ‘Now she told Mrs Ashby that you’d asked for everything to be sent to Charles and Sylvia’s. I wasn’t even consulted.’
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Manipulative to the end.’
‘You don’t know the half of it.’ His mouth tightened. ‘She hired Paul Gordon to come down here, Jo. He was intended to seduce you—drive a wedge between us and clear the way for her.’
Her lips parted in a silent gasp. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘Never more so. They genuinely tried to set you up. They admitted it. Gordon felt he’d have succeeded too, but for your inherent frigidity. Although he expressed it rather differently,’ he added harshly. ‘He also admitted making you fall off Nutkin. To bring you down a peg or two, I gather.’
She remembered his bruised knuckles. ‘I hope you hit him hard.’
His smile was wintry, his eyes bleak. ‘You know I did, lady.’
She looked down at the ground. ‘But you stayed away so much, especially at night. I thought you were with her. At the cottage.’
He shook his head. ‘I used to go to Charles and Sylvia.’ His mouth twisted in a faint smile. ‘I was the original waif and stray. The truth was, I didn’t trust myself to be alone with you.’
Colour rose in her face. She said hurriedly, ‘And you kept talking about your new wife—about not making the same mistakes again. I was sure you meant her.’
Gabriel said very gently, ‘I was talking about you, Jo. God, I was even prepared to let you divorce me, so that we could start completely afresh. So that I could court you properly, as I should have done the first time. If you remember, when I married you, I’d hardly kissed you, let alone laid a hand on you.’
‘I didn’t think you wanted me…’
‘How wrong can you be?’ His voice was husky. ‘I was crazy for you—but you were so young—so innocent. And the fact that we’d been living under the same roof didn’t help. I wasn’t sure you weren’t confusing the term “husband” with some kind of elder brother. And the last thing I’d felt for some time was brotherly,’ he added, with a touch of grimness.
‘But I meant to woo you very gently—to give you as much time as you needed. And then, on our wedding night, I just lost it completely. Treated you as if I’d bought you. I knew I was hurting you—scaring you—and I couldn’t bloody stop…’ He shook his head. ‘I thought the look in your eyes was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
‘Every time we were in bed together, I felt as if you were—enduring me. I couldn’t forgive myself for what I’d done to you, and then I almost got to a point where I couldn’t forgive you either—so I decided to get out. To give us both some breathing space, then try again.’
She said, ‘I thought you were just bored. That my lack of experience irritated you.’
‘I had never in my life known such sweetness.’ His voice was almost reverent. ‘And not being able to reach you was the worst kind of torture. Like having the gates of paradise slammed in your face.’
She said shyly, ‘I did want you. But I think, perhaps, I was afraid—not just of you—but of being a woman. Your woman.’
He was very still. ‘Are you still afraid?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Are you?’
‘A little, maybe.’ He drew a ragged breath. ‘Scared that I’ll reach for you, only to have you draw back again.’
‘In that case,’ she said. ‘I’ll come to you.’
It was only a short distance, but it could have divided them for ever.
She stood in front of him, her eyes lifted gravely to his, recognising the tenderness—the need in their tawny glow.
She said, ‘I love you, Gabriel. I always have. I always will. Please let me share your dream.’
His arms closed round her, pulling her against him, and their lips met, heatedly, fiercely. They kissed until they were breathless, half-laughing, half-crying. Then they drew slightly apart and stood for a moment, looking at each other, acknowledging a mutual longing too strong to be denied for another minute.
Gabriel took her hand and led her into the shelter of the stones to a place where new grass was springing. Silently he took off his coat and spread it on the ground, drawing her down with him to lie in his arms. He kissed her again, slowly, almost druggingly, his tongue playing with hers.
At the same time Joanna was aware that his hands had penetrated her layers of clothing and were exploring, very delicately, her naked breasts. And that her body was melting deliciously in response. She controlled a little gasp.
‘Are you cold?’ Gabriel touched his lips to the pulse beneath her ear.
‘No,’ she managed. His hand was under her skirt now, stroking her sweetly, languorously, making it difficult for her to breathe. Or indeed to do anything except arch her body in mute demand against his sensuous fingers.
He whispered unevenly, ‘Joanna, my sweet, my only love, do you really want me at last?’
‘Yes.’ Her hands moved on him feverishly, freeing him from the confines of his clothing. ‘Oh, Gabriel—yes.’
The last fragile barriers between them were soon stripped away. She lifted herself eagerly to meet him—to welcome him into her—all inhibitions gone.
As she felt the heat, the strength of him fill her, Joanna gave a tiny moan of pleasure.
His hands cupped her face. His voice was hoarse. ‘Did I hurt you, darling. Did I?’
‘No.’ She smiled up at him, gloriously, triumphantly, feeling her body tighten round him. ‘Just—love me…’
He began to move inside her, slowly at first, controlling himself for her pleasure. Hands clinging to his shoulders, her legs wrapped round his hips, Joanna abandoned herself to the rhythm of their passion, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone.
She could feel heat building inside her, a dizzying spiral of sensation which lifted and carried her like some tidal wave to a moment where all thought ceased and her body shuddered in pure physical rapture to its climax.
She cried out in aching delight, and heard Gabriel answer her as he reached his own culmination.
Aeons later… ‘I should have done this three years ago,’ Gabriel murmured into her hair. ‘Brought you up here with a bottle of champagne, staged the world’s most complete seduction, and then, but only then, asked you to marry me.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Joanna stroked his cheek with her hand.
He sighed. ‘Lionel had pretty well forbidden it, for one thing. He had old-fashioned views about virgin brides. But mostly because I was scared that you wouldn’t want to come with me—that you’d say no.’ He lifted his head and looked at her gravely. ‘Would you have done?’
‘I don’t know,’ she told him honestly. ‘Perhaps I wasn’t brave enough—or mature enough—to give you what you wanted then. Maybe this is the route we had to take to find each other.’
He kissed her gently on the mouth and sat up. ‘And now we’d better take the quickest route home, before we get pneumonia. I think we should spend the rest of the day in bed, don’t you?’
‘We can’t,’ Joanna said, stricken. ‘I’m supposed to see Henry at three o’clock.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he said, grimacing. ‘You were going to see me, actually. That was my fall-back plan, just in case you didn’t show this morning.’
‘And you call other people manipulative.’ Joanna let him help her to her feet. ‘Anyway, what would Mrs Ashby think?’
‘That we’d come to our senses at last.’ Gabriel traced the outline of her parted lips with a fingertip. ‘Then she’ll put some champagne on ice. And after that she’ll go up to the attic and get my old cot down. She’s mentioned it several times lately.’
‘Is that part of your dream?’ Joanna’s eyes were luminous, her smile very tender.
He kissed her again. ‘You, our home, love, laughter and babies. That sums it up.’
‘Sounds go
od to me.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘My angel.’
Gabriel took her in his arms and held her for a long moment, safe and secure against his heart.
Then, hand in hand, together at last, they walked down the hill to their heritage.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1099-8
MARRIAGE AT A DISTANCE
First North American Publication 2000.
Copyright © 1998 by Sara Craven.
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