Lovers Not Friends

by Helen Brooks

  ‘That couple there, look.’ The stage whisper had easily carried to Amy’s sharp ears, although Blade was exchanging careless banter over his shoulder with his friend at the time and had been oblivious of the little scene. ‘I’m sure they must be famous, film stars or something. He’s such a hunk and she’s lovely, look at that skin and hair.’ Amy had almost turned to see who they were talking about before she caught herself in time, her cheeks flushing pink. ‘And that boat …’ The girl’s voice had been green with envy. ‘Shall we ask for their autographs? This package tour has cost us enough, we might as well make the most of it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ The girl’s less effusive friend had hung back in alarm. ‘You don’t do that here, our Tracy. Anyway, you’re not sure who they are, they might just be ordinary people like us.’

  ‘Like us?’ Tracy’s voice had dripped contempt. ‘Oh, come on, Shirl, there’s nothing ordinary about people like that.’

  Later, in the privacy of their cabin after a long languid night of making love, she had told Blade about the conversation, expecting him to laugh, but he had raised her chin gently to take her lips in a long, lingering kiss as dawn broke through the cabin window. ‘They’re dead right,’ he said softly as his eyes had caressed her naked body sensually, ‘there is nothing ordinary about you, my love. Me?’ He had shrugged big shoulders dismissively. ‘Ten a penny in this place but I haven’t seen another woman who can even begin to compete with you. And the crazy thing is you don’t rate your beauty at all, do you? Why, angel-face?’

  And that had been the point when she had first brought herself to lay open the wound that had seared so deep to another human being’s gaze. She had poured out the misery of her childhood, Sandra’s rejection, the constant feeling that she had to apologise every minute for how she looked. And Blade had listened. And then he had made love to her, slowly, completely, in a way he never had before, that had taken them both to heaven and back. And afterwards he had talked to her for hours until the sun was a bright white ball in the transparent blue sky outside, and she had felt the burden leave her shoulders as she had laid it on his.

  ‘A dime for them?’ She hadn’t been aware that he was watching her but now, as the deep blue of her eyes focused on the dark glittering black of his she realised that her face had been open for him to read.

  ‘Not worth it,’ she answered quietly as she forced the past back into the past, letting her hair hide her face quickly, far more shaken by the starkly beautiful memories than she would have liked. They had been so happy, so wildly, dangerously happy, she should have known it was too good to last.

  ‘Liar.’ He grimaced cynically. ‘But I promised you an hour’s peace, so stretch out there in comfort and take in some rays. And I don’t want to hear mention of a certain man’s name; it’s just you and me, Amy. Got it?’ The thread of steel underlying the mocking tone told her he meant every word literally. ‘I’ll wake you at lunchtime.’

  ‘I didn’t know you could cook?’ she asked as she did as he’d bid, feeling her head reel a little as she lay back on the warm cushioned bed.

  ‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, sweetheart,’ he said smoothly, ‘but we won’t go into that now.’

  ‘Why?’ She shut her eyes against the harsh glare of the sun, feeling its warmth caress her body and ease the tenseness out of her muscles. Blade was right, this did feel good.

  ‘Because you wouldn’t like it,’ he said harshly. ‘I don’t know what sort of guy you thought I was, Amy, but I sure as hell don’t let go of what is mine so easy as you’d hoped. I want—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Well, let’s forget that now. As I said, relax, enjoy …’

  Enjoy? Her nerves were as tight as a coiled spring again as she forced herself to lie absolutely still, her eyes closed. There had been such naked fury in his voice those last few moments, such explosive rage. He hadn’t given up. She had been crazy to think he had. He wouldn’t rest until she was crushed and broken at his feet with her soul laid bare. That was what he wanted, she thought painfully as the wine heightened her emotions. Revenge for her supposed betrayal of their marriage, retribution for all the misery she had caused …

  She must have slept, because as she became aware of sensual lips on hers the sensation had a dream-like quality to it, a satisfyingly safe fantasy where all her deepest needs and desires could be given free rein. She opened her mouth hungrily, seeking more from the deliciously warm illusion that was appeasing the fierce longing that was with her every waking moment, her lips murmuring the name that haunted even her dreams. ‘Blade …’ The smell, the feel of him, it was all there. She ran her fingers lightly down the hard male body poised over hers before opening her eyes drowsily as the drugged inertia began to recede.

  ‘Blade!’ This time his name sprang from her lips in shock as her heavy eyelids were forced wide open, and she confronted his face an inch from hers, a look of immense satisfaction lighting the chiselled features. ‘What are you doing!’

  ‘I would have thought that was pretty obvious,’ he drawled lazily as his hands continued their dizzying wander over her body. ‘I’m calling you to lunch, of course.’

  ‘Lunch?’ She shuddered deeply as his hands drifted slowly over her flat stomach, smothering the sound of pleasure that rose into her throat. ‘I don’t understand …’ For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was and then, as her senses returned and she took in the sights and smells of the garden, she sat up jerkily, almost knocking Blade off the lounger as he crouched over her on his knees. ‘Will you stop that!’ She knocked his hands away from her in a desperate gesture of repudiation.

  ‘Sure.’ He had frozen at the none-too-subtle rejection, his eyes icing over and his body tensing, and as he stood upright she saw his face had hardened, a derisively cruel gleam darkening the beautiful eyes. ‘I only intended a waking kiss after all, sweetheart; it was your reaction that set the ball rolling.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She stared at him, mortified, as he laughed softly, the sound chilling.

  ‘No?’ He glanced at her body which mirrored her mind’s betrayal, her breasts hard and pointed and straining against the thin cloth, her skin flushed and warm and aroused. ‘Who’s kidding who, Amy?’

  ‘I was asleep.’ She felt her lips tremble at his contempt and tried desperately not to let it show. ‘I was dreaming.’

  ‘Amy.’ His quick eyes had caught her distress and now all mockery was gone as he knelt at her side, his gaze searching her face with an intensity that was unnerving. ‘It’s not wrong to respond to your husband, is it? Even before we were married I wouldn’t have called you frigid or inhibited—what the hell has happened to you, woman? It’s as though—’ He stopped abruptly and shook his head as he stood up again slowly, his face dark and grim. ‘It’s as though you’re forcing yourself to hate me. Why?’ he asked harshly.

  ‘It’s not like that.’ She swung her legs over the side of the lounger, letting her hair shimmer into a golden curtain between them. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘I sure as hell don’t,’ he agreed on a small snarl that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that if she looked up his face would be bitter and cold, and who could blame him? she asked herself painfully. Did he love her any more? A tight band constricted her chest, stopping her breath. Probably not, she acknowledged with agonising honesty. How could he after all that had happened? But he still desired her physically and that was almost as dangerous.

  ‘You said something about lunch?’ She couldn’t bear to raise her head and see his face as she spoke the trite words. ‘I’m starving.’

  There was a long minute of silence and then his voice came from above her head, cold and controlled. ‘So am I,’ he said expressionlessly, and as she followed him into the cottage it came to her, on a little stab of fear, that he hadn’t been talking about the roast beef dinner laid out on the small kitchen table.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘WOTCHER, darlin” Amy turned quickly t
o confront the bunch of leather-clad youths who had just driven open the door of the restaurant with unnecessary force. ‘Got any leftovers, then?’

  ‘We’re just closing.’ She stitched a polite smile on her face with some effort as she pointed to the small sign at the side of the front window. ‘We don’t take orders after ten.’

  ‘Well, that’s a shame, ain’t it, Mick?’

  Mick gave a vacant leering smile as he nodded agreement without taking his eyes off Amy, his ginger hair thick with grease.

  ‘Cause we’re a bit thirsty, see? The lads fancied a cup of coffee and a doughnut or somethin’. Didn’t you, lads?’ The speaker was a massive burly man of about twenty who looked as though most of his brains resided in the part of his anatomy that rested on the seat of the monstrous motorbike he had parked outside. ‘An’ they can get a bit naughty, like, if they don’t get what they want.’

  ‘Amy?’ Arthur had obviously caught the tail-end of the conversation as he stepped through from the kitchen, and his voice was placatory as he nodded at the group who had seated themselves sprawlingly at the table by the window. ‘I think we’ve got some doughnuts in the back and the coffee pot is still on.’ He motioned for her to take his place in the kitchen. ‘All right lads?’

  ‘Yeah, jump to it, girl.’

  He obviously fancied himself as something of a wit, Amy thought tightly as she flashed one scathing glance at the boy who had been doing all the talking before walking thankfully through into the kitchen to the sound of the group’s bawdy mocking laughter. This was all she needed! She closed her eyes tightly in protest for one second before putting a batch of doughnuts hastily into the microwave as she switched on the coffee again.

  ‘Sorry about that, lass, but I thought it better to humour them.’ Arthur had followed on her heels, his face worried. ‘Is John picking you up tonight?’

  ‘No.’ She glanced at the restaurant door nervously. ‘I told him not to.’ She’d thought that wise in case Blade was around but now …

  ‘A pity.’ Arthur peered anxiously out of the glass panel of the kitchen door before taking the doughnuts out of the microwave and covering them liberally in sugar. ‘I’ve an idea they are the bunch who were down this way last summer and caused all the trouble. Hung about for a few days bothering all the lasses and being generally obnoxious, and then old Charlie got involved.’

  ‘Charlie?’ Amy stared at him. ‘I don’t know a Charlie?’

  ‘You wouldn’t now.’ Arthur’s face was grim. ‘He was the village copper, great bloke, one of a kind. He made them move on one night, and the next he was attacked by persons unknown. Beat him unconscious, they did, and left him in a pool of blood outside the Flying Duck. He’s been in hospital ever since, can’t walk or talk.’

  ‘Oh, Arthur.’ Amy’s face turned white. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Now I didn’t say it was them as did it, lass,’ Arthur said quickly as he took in her blanched face. ‘Charlie’s never been able to say who and that lot had disappeared by then. There were a group of travellers passing through and they were questioned for days, but in the end they had to let ’em go, no evidence. But all the folks round here come to their own conclusion, so they did.’ He nodded slowly. ‘So you just stay in here, lass, and I’ll see to ’em.’

  ‘All right, Arthur.’ Amy quickly placed five cups of coffee and the doughnuts on a tray and handed it to him with shaking hands. ‘Be careful.’

  As Arthur disappeared into the adjoining room she heard the ribald comments get positively obscene, and tensed in fright as she heard her name. ‘Where’s the lovely Amy, then?’ a slurred voice shouted suggestively. ‘Looks like she might do a turn, that one?’

  ‘That’s enough of that.’ Arthur re-appeared through the door as he spoke. ‘Just calm down, lads, we don’t want no trouble, do we?’ He gestured to the phone on the kitchen wall with his eyes. ‘Dial 999, Amy, lass,’ he whispered softly. ‘I think we’re going to have some bother.’

  She had just finished making the call when the kitchen door swung open and two of the youths entered slowly, their mean little eyes bright and hot as they glanced from her frightened face to Arthur’s grim one. ‘More coffee, Grandpop.’ They indicated the pot of coffee on the table. ‘And this time she can bring it out.’

  ‘Amy’s working in here.’ Arthur’s face was set and cold, all trace of appeasement gone. ‘I’ll see to you.’

  ‘Are you deaf as well as stupid, old man?’ Before Amy had time to react, the other three youths had followed their comrades in, two of them hoisting Arthur bodily out of the door and seating him in a chair as one of the others forced Amy into the restaurant. ‘We’ll let you watch, Grandpop.’ As the blinds went down over the windows Amy knew such fear that her heart stopped beating and then she screamed, desperately, before a large dirty hand was clamped like iron over her mouth.

  ‘Shut her up.’ The spokesman’s face was vicious. ‘Gag her or something. She might make a lot more noise before we’ve finished.’ He dropped the latch on the door as he spoke and then turned, gesturing at the two holding Arthur down in the seat. ‘Keep hold of him. Any trouble, hit him hard. An’ you, mister.’ He pushed his sweaty face close to Arthur’s. ‘Just remember that when we do a job we make sure it’s a good one. Like last summer. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Shut up, Beef.’ One of the youths, a little younger and cleaner than the rest, glanced nervously at his leader. ‘We got away with that, don’t—’

  The rest of his warning was lost as the locked door of the restaurant flew open with such an almighty bang that for a second Amy thought one of the boys had fired a gun. And then she saw Blade standing in the doorway, his glittering eyes taking in the scene in front of him with one piercing glance, the look on his face chilling.

  ‘Let go of her.’ His voice was like the snarl of a wild beast, and for a moment the filthy hands gripping her so hard slackened before tightening even harder.

  ‘Oh, yeah, says who?’ The one they’d called Beef spoke to the youth directly behind him without taking his eyes off Blade. ‘Hold on to the old man and don’t stand no aggro. Me an’ Flick’ll deal with this Yankee.’

  As she saw one of the teenagers tighten his grip into a stranglehold round Arthur’s neck, she was also aware of Blade striking with sudden deadly force at the youth nearest to him who went down like a stone, but events were happening so fast it was a kaleidoscope of sound and colour.

  Part of her couldn’t believe it was happening. It was the sort of incident one read about in the papers, maybe describing a relatively normal occurrence in the inner cities or the depths of the Glasgow slums where drug-pushers and mindless bored hooligans were all too common, but here? In this sleepy Yorkshire village?

  And then Arthur slumped forward in his seat, whether from the pressure on his windpipe or his heart she didn’t know, and as the youth who had been holding him leapt into the fray Amy realised Blade didn’t stand a chance. He was going to be badly hurt, like Charlie, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  It could only have been another minute before the harsh sound of a police siren registered on her frantic senses, but in that time she had realised that Blade hadn’t learnt his fighting techniques solely in the boardroom. Marquis of Queensberry didn’t come into it. For every dirty trick the group of youths pulled he had one to match it, and as the three who were still on their feet tried to make their escape as two police cars screeched to a halt outside, the one who had been holding her giving her a vicious push against the wall as he did so, Blade moved into the doorway his eyes murderous.

  ‘Try it, just try it.’ He had fixed his deadly gaze on Beef’s mean little eyes and now beckoned to the huge youth, giving a snarl of a smile as he did so. ‘Come on, I’d like you to. There must be a lot of people out there who owe you one.’

  ‘Flick?’ As Beef reached behind him with his hand outstretched Amy realised the portent of the other lad’s nickname, as a vicious-looking flick knife appeared as
though by magic in Beef’s great paw.

  ‘Blade!’ As she screamed his name it took his attention just long enough for Beef to seize the advantage, leaping forward and slicing through the air with the wickedly sharp knife as he did so. Blade’s reflexes were as finely honed as a big cat’s and almost certainly saved his life, and as he kicked the knife out of harm’s way she saw Beef’s eyes open very wide in desperate panic. And then Blade hit him, very hard, and he was out for the count, sprawling to the floor as the police surged through the door. It was over.

  ‘Amy? Sit down. Put your head between your knees.’ She had stood up to go to Blade’s side, but as the room had begun to swim and turn he was there in front of her, forcing her down in a chair as he gestured to Arthur, who seemed to have recovered, to hold on to her. ‘I’ll get some brandy.’ He was back in an instant, forcing the liquid down her throat as he held the glass to her lips, and not moving away until she had taken several helpless gulps.

  ‘Blade … If you hadn’t come in …’

  ‘But I did, didn’t I?’ he said gently, as he searched the white face and dilated eyes. ‘I’ll always be there when you need me, Amy, don’t you know that by now? I love you, I’ll always love you, nothing you can do or say will make any difference to that.’

  She stared up at him, her face stricken. ‘Blade—’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, but we are going to have to ask you a few questions if the lady is up to it?’ A young policeman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, stood apologetically at their side, and as Blade turned irritably to face him Amy put her hand on his sleeve, noticing as she did so that it was stained with blood. His or theirs? she thought, as her stomach lurched sickeningly.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said quickly. ‘I’d rather get it over and done with now.’