Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

by Penny Jordan

  Her eyes flew open and in other circumstances she would have laughed at the male belligerence in Nicky’s voice as he frowned up at Kieron.

  ‘You left me!’ he accused Briony. ‘You was gonned a long time.’

  ‘Saved by the bell, but only this time,’ Kieron drawled in her ear. ‘I can see I’m going to have to invest in a bedroom door with a lock. ‘Come on, I’ll carry you back to your room,’ he told Nicky, bending down to pick the child up.

  ‘It isn’t over,’ he warned Briony. ‘I meant what I said.’

  * * *

  The farther south they drove the more arid the landscape became, and Briony was conscious of a nervous tension which wasn’t entirely related to the forthcoming meeting with Kieron’s godmother. He had made no further reference to last night, but she did not doubt that he had meant exactly what he said, and the worst thing was that part of her almost wished that he would physically impose himself on her and thus relieve her of the burden of making her own decision, but she sensed that he was well aware of how frail her barriers were and that he would use time and propinquity as levers, waiting until she was at her most vulnerable to make good his threats.

  They drove through the hinterland of the Côte d’Azur, thickly wooded with cypress, oak, ancient scarred olive trees and the distinctive umbrella pines; a slumbrous silence blanketed the countryside, luxurious villas were glimpsed here and there behind wrought-iron gates.

  In Nice the glitter and splendour of the Côte d’Azur burst upon Briony’s unprepared eyes in a dazzle of unbelievable wealth, from the chrome on the expensive cars which filled the city to the discreetly luxurious jewellery displayed on tanned, seductive bodies.

  ‘In Nice,’ Kieron said dryly, ‘all that glisters is most definitely gold, solid and twenty-two carat.’

  They took the corniche road from the city, winding along the flanks of the limestone cliffs of the pré-Alpes. Every time they swung round a bend Briony closed her eyes, only to open them again to drink in the view of the deep blue Mediterranean spread out below them.

  Approximately twenty minutes after they left Nice they were driving through St Jean with its peaceful tranquillity and picturesque harbour.

  Previously the nearest Nicky had ever been to the sea had been the lake in Regent’s Park, and while the Channel crossing had left him relatively unimpressed, the sight of the harbour clustered with yachts had him round-eyed with excitement.

  ‘Your godmother must be a very wealthy woman,’ Briony murmured, unable to refrain from voicing her growing doubts. They were driving past luxurious villas set in the most beautiful countryside she had ever seen, and she was dreading the coming ordeal of meeting Kieron’s godmother.

  ‘Relatively so,’ Kieron agreed. ‘Her husband was a very prosperous businessman. He drowned with my parents in a sailing accident. Marian had stayed behind to look after me. I was twelve at the time, and I’ve never forgotten the look on her face when she broke the news to me. I’m afraid for a while I even blamed her for the accident. She had been the one to invite us all to stay with her, but she bore with me with the patience of a saint. Héloise took me on one side in the end and reminded me that I wasn’t the only person who was suffering. When you share a tragedy like that with someone it forms a bond that can never be broken. Marian virtually took the place of my parents after that. I spent every school holiday with her. You’ll find she’s a bit of a romantic,’ he added. ‘Her happiness means a lot to me, Briony. Don’t disillusion her just to get back at me. As far as she’s concerned, we’re a loving family unit, and if you do anything to damage that illusion, I’ll make you suffer for it.’

  They were turning in through wrought iron gates, driving up to a house that made Briony catch her breath in mingled delight and dismay. The villa overlooked the sea on one side and Nice on the other, its walls covered in ancient creepers and the windows opened wide to the soft balmy air. A tall elegant woman hurried gracefully down the steps fronting the house as the car stopped, and although she was undeniably beautifully dressed, there her resemblance to the creature of Briony’s imaginings ceased entirely. As Kieron uncoiled himself from the car, she flung herself into his arms and studied him affectionately, before hurrying round to Briony’s side of the car.

  ‘My dear, I’m forgetting my manners!’ she apologised warmly. ‘Welcome to the Villa Jardin.’ A slim tanned arm indicated the beautifully kept gardens which surrounded the villa, brilliant with oleander and hibiscus, bougainvillea, flowering vividly against the cream stone walls. ‘And this must be Nicky!’

  The little boy surveyed her rather doubtfully, and Briony felt a lump come into her own throat as Marian turned to Kieron and said unsteadily:

  ‘Oh, my dear, he is so like you! Would you like to come with me and have a nice cool drink?’ she asked Nicky casually. She was obviously accustomed to children, Briony noted with surprised relief. She made no attempt to overwhelm Nicky, waiting instead while he looked at her rather thoughtfully before announcing solemnly, ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Oh, wait until Héloise sees you!’ Marian said with a smile. ‘She’s in the kitchen,’ she told Kieron, ‘making your favourite supper. I’ve given you the Mimosa Suite. You’ll be quite private,’ she assured Briony. ‘It has a sitting room which opens straight on to the gardens and from there there are steps leading down to our private beach. It’s rather rocky, though, which is why we have the pool. And you mustn’t worry about Nicky. Héloise and I will be delighted to look after him for you. Kieron tells me that you haven’t been well and that you’re badly in need of a rest. Of course you must be, you poor child.’ Kieron was taking the luggage out of the car and Briony’s eyes rested betrayingly on the tensed muscles of his back.

  ‘Kieron told me that you didn’t have time for a proper honeymoon,’ Marian confounded her by adding. ‘I hope this holiday will make up for it. Now, I must take Nicky to show Héloise. Although she wouldn’t admit it to a soul she has a terrible weakness for children, and she’ll spoil him dreadfully.’

  Briony followed her hostess through a cool tiled hall which led off the arched patio and into an elegant drawing room decorated in peach and off-white.

  ‘You must be dying for a cup of tea,’ Marian declared sympathetically. ‘I’ll get Héloise to bring us one while Kieron takes the luggage upstairs.’

  Nicky was wandering round the room, staring curiously at the elegant lamps and Chinese porcelain, and Briony called to him not to touch anything.

  The door opened and a woman Briony assumed to be Héloise walked in carrying a tea tray. She was built on solidly square lines, dark hair pulled back severely from an olive face, her eyes shrewdly assessing as they looked at Briony.

  Marian introduced them, and Briony had the feeling that Héloise would not be slow to express disapproval of anyone who she thought might disturb her beloved mistress.

  ‘And this is Nicky,’ Marian announced, calling the little boy over.

  This time when Héloise looked at her, Briony thought she glimpsed grudging approval in her eyes, although she was very surprised when Nicky willingly agreed to go to the kitchen with Héloise for a glass of orange juice.

  ‘She has a magic touch with children,’ Marian explained when they had gone. ‘It is only with them that she truly relaxes her guard, and they seem to sense it. I can’t tell you how happy I am about your marriage,’ she added, pouring Briony a cup of tea. ‘But Kieron is right.…’

  ‘Aren’t I always?’ Kieron drawled from the door. He had changed into a clean shirt and close-fitting off-white jeans, and Briony’s body trembled on a flood tide of love. ‘But what specifically was I right about this time?’

  ‘Briony,’ Marian said with a smile. ‘She does need a rest. I’ve told her she mustn’t worry about Nicky, and if the two of you want to go out alone, he’ll be quite safe with us. You must watch that skin of yours, though, my dear,’ she warned Briony. ‘My chemist does an excellent cream to prevent burning. I’m going to Nice tomorrow—which
reminds me, I still haven’t bought you a wedding present.’

  ‘Just as well,’ Kieron said easily. ‘Until we find a permanent base we don’t have anywhere to put anything. You might introduce Briony to French swimwear, though. My wife has a perfect figure and I object to seeing it clad in clothes that do it less than justice.’

  Marian’s face lit up.

  ‘A shopping spree?—oh yes, I’d love that! It’s a little late for a trousseau,’ she laughed, ‘but as this is practically your honeymoon I think we can stretch a point.’

  ‘Really, there’s no need,’ Briony began, but the look of disappointment crossing the other woman’s face, and the warning look in Kieron’s eyes, forced her to change her mind and add unsteadily, ‘But of course, if you’re really sure you don’t mind…?’

  When she had finished her tea. Marian suggested that Kieron show Briony their rooms.

  ‘Nicky will be quite safe with Héloise,’ she forestalled. ‘And if you’d like to rest for a while she’ll look after him for you.’

  Although the expensive luxury of the villa should have prepared her it was still a shock to discover that their ‘rooms’ encompassed a huge double bedroom complete with en-suite bathroom and an entire wall of mirrored wardrobes, with a dressing room off it, which Marian had thoughtfully organised as a bedroom for Nicky, plus a delightfully furnished sitting room overlooking Nice with its own small patio which led out to the swimming pool, and which as Marian had promised provided its own entrance to the villa.

  ‘I’ll have to have a word with Marian about making sure the gate leading down to the rocks is childproof,’ Kieron surprised Briony by saying as she stood by the window. ‘Those steps are too steep for a small child and the rocks can be treacherous. Can he swim?’

  Briony shook her head. She had taken Nicky a couple of times to the local baths, but lack of time had prevented her from going more regularly.

  ‘Well, that can be something he can learn while we’re here. Every child ought to before it’s old enough to know fear.’

  Cream and peach appeared to be the theme of the villa, Briony reflected as she unpacked, crossing acres of off-white, thick-pile carpet to put clothes away in the huge wardrobe. The bedspread and curtains had a Chinese motif of palest peach and green on a cream background, the theme repeated in the cream and black bathroom.

  She paused as she stared at the bed. Tonight she would be sharing that with Kieron. She shivered inwardly.

  ‘Why don’t you rest before dinner?’ the object of her thoughts suggested, walking into the bedroom from the sitting room. ‘I want to go and have a chat with Aunt Marian.’

  And presumably she wasn’t wanted, Briony reflected bitterly.

  She had a shower and lay down on the bed, having taken the precaution of locking the bedroom door. She only meant to rest for a few moments before dressing, enjoying the cool play of air against her skin, but somehow her eyes felt too heavily weighted to remain open, and it was so pleasant just to relax. She reached out for her robe, intending to pull it on, but was fast asleep before she even touched it.

  A cold shaft of air across her back woke her, and in the dark shadows of the room it was several seconds before she remembered where she was.

  She glanced at her watch in horror, unable to believe that she had slept so long. Kieron! Had he come looking for her and found the locked door? And Nicky! What on earth would Marian and Héloise think of her? She rolled over frowning as the curtains billowed in the breeze from the opened French windows. She could not recall unfastening them, and her heart pounded unevenly as a figure detached itself from the shadows on the terrace and strolled towards her.

  ‘So you’re awake at last.’

  Kieron! She reached feverishly for her robe, but he twitched it out of reach, his eyes mocking as he drawled softly, ‘Oh no… you look much lovelier without. I thought the gods were indeed being generous when I came in here and found you lying so temptingly on my bed, like a sacrifice to Bacchus.’

  ‘But I locked the door.’

  ‘I know you did,’ deep amusement tinged his voice, ‘but you forgot about the patio, my lovely wife, and now, like Eve tempting Adam with the apple, you’ve aroused my appetite.’

  She wriggled away from him, but he was too quick for her, his hands sliding over her skin to hold her waist while her heart beat so loudly she felt sure he must hear and correctly interpret its passionate demand.

  ‘I told Aunt Marian you wouldn’t want any dinner,’ he murmured softly. ‘Did you really not know that I would break down the door by sheer force once I’d glimpsed your delectable body? What a pity you’ve already had a shower.’

  He laughed deep in his throat at her quivering reaction, stroking his fingers along her midriff and lowering himself on to the bed beside her. ‘So timid and shy! I could almost believe you still a virgin if it wasn’t for Nicky, and some particularly entrancing memories. Do you remember what you said to me then? How you pleaded so sweetly for me to possess your body, and how you cried with pleasure when I did?’

  His hands were moving slowly upwards, moulding her breasts gently, moving lightly against her nipples.

  ‘You do remember, don’t you?’ he breathed against her ear, his voice honey-sweet and seductive.

  Briony tried to push him away, her palms tingling with shock as they came into contact with the male warmth of him.

  ‘No!’ She didn’t know whether the word was a denial of his erotic words, or a denial of her own feelings, but Kieron seemed to be in no doubt. He rolled over, holding her clamped against him, his eyes hard as they searched her face.

  ‘No?’ he prompted softly. ‘Then I shall just have to remind you.… The surroundings were similar, in that we were lying together on a bed. But then you pleaded with me to let you feel me against you without the restriction of our clothes!’

  ‘No!’ Briony denied desperately. ‘I never said anything of the kind!’

  ‘Perhaps not in so many words, but your body told mine pretty clearly that that was what you wanted. I even seem to remember you helping me out of my shirt. Like this,’ he added huskily, sliding her hand against his chest where it tangled in the crisp dark hairs and clenched convulsively against him as he pulled his shirt free of his waistband and pulled her down against his naked warmth.

  Her breasts swelled tautly with remembered warmth and Kieron groaned huskily deep in his throat. ‘You see, you haven’t forgotten at all,’ he growled against her ear. ‘You show me what comes next.’

  For a brief moment she fantasised about doing just that, the palms of her hands sliding treacherously against Kieron’s skin, the impeding jeans making her fingers curl resentfully as they ignored the commands of her brain to stop their sensual exploration and devote their energies to repulsing his masterful invasion of her senses.

  ‘Still shy?’ he teased, pinning her underneath him and raising himself up on one elbow to study the fluid lines of her body. ‘I seem to remember much the same problem last time, although we eventually managed to overcome it. Undress me, Briony,’ he urged against her ear. ‘I love to feel you touching me.’

  Her tongue flicked out to wet her dry lips, the betraying movement quickly stilled, but Kieron had seen it, and his hands cupped her face, and his own tongue lightly traced the outline of her mouth, his eyes gleaming in the darkness as she swallowed convulsively.

  ‘Want me, sweetheart?’

  Briony shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Her whole body was trembling uncontrollably.

  ‘Ah, that’s better,’ Kieron murmured. ‘Now we’re getting to the woman you’ve buried for so long. She wasn’t cold and frigid, was she, Briony?’

  Warning signals flashed despairingly in her brain, but her body was ignoring them, too languorous and aroused to heed their import. Her hands slid down to the hardness of Kieron’s hips, tugging ineffectually at the cream cotton.

  ‘Mmm, I know,’ Kieron whispered, moving away slightly. ‘That better?’ he asked her seconds
later, taking her hands and spreading them against the flat tautness of his stomach, his faint laugh lost on an unsteady groan as her fingers stroked tremulously against him, causing him to shudder deeply and fasten his mouth on hers in aroused demand.

  There was a throbbing ache deep down inside her, a need for fulfilment that obliterated anything else. Her body arched provocatively against Kieron’s, inciting him to subdue its subtle torment by inflicting his own revenge in the unhurried exploration of his mouth and hands. As though she had stepped from one world to another, leaving reality completely behind her, Briony responded passionately, her lips pressed feverishly against his skin, tasting its salty bitterness and feeling his gasped moan of pleasure. This time she was no uncertain novice having to be coaxed and taught, and her body remembered things her mind had long since refused to hold.

  There was a moment when Kieron’s thigh parted hers, when she felt spiralling panic and fought against him, but the rebellion was brief, her body already writhing heatedly even while her muscles contracted in protest.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Kieron muttered thickly, caressing her into relaxation, his ‘Oh God, Briony!’ lost in her own sharply passionate cry as her body welcomed him back with passionate sincerity.

  She fell asleep still held in his arms, her body aching pleasurably, and her lips still curved in a slight smile.

  When she woke up she was alone, and as realisation filtered through her mind sick panic clawed inside her. There was no sign of Kieron and somewhere deep inside her she had known that there would not be. Like the unreeling of an old film, pictures from the past flashed before her brain, memories of that other time filling her mind like the contents of Pandora’s box. She was sitting up in bed, her arms locked tightly round her knees, rocking herself from side to side in mindless terror, when Kieron walked in.

  ‘Briony.’

  He tried to release her arms, but they were locked in place, her eyes burning with self-revulsion and pain as she stared at him.

  ‘Did you think I’d left you?’ he demanded comprehendingly. ‘Oh, Briony….’ He made to take her in his arms, but she drew back, her eyes wild and bitter.