by Anne Mather
Once, as she knelt beside the stream, she saw flecks of blood staining the grass. It was upsetting to think that she had made those stains on her way down the ravine, wasting all that energy in a futile quest. It was strange, too, that in spite of the blood she had lost, her pulse was still pounding through her temples, throbbing in her ears…
A sudden scattering of stones behind her brought her abruptly to her feet. One pebble bounced across the turf to land almost at her feet, and with a gasp of horror, she closed her eyes. In those petrifying seconds, she was convinced the mountain lion had found her, and although she opened her mouth to scream, no cry emerged.
‘Alexandra!’
Even the sound of her own name was an unreal intrusion into her terror, and not until it was repeated, with an added imprecation to God to be given strength, did she open her eyes to see Jason striding across the grass towards her.
She thought at first she was hallucinating, but somehow the drawn pallor of his features convinced her that this was Jason as she had never seen him before. He was hatless, his hair rough and uncombed, his shirt open down his chest to the low belt of his Levis. He was advancing down the slope towards her, and looking beyond him, she saw his horse and that of Ricardo waiting at the head of the ravine with the burly foreman. That was what she had heard, she realised, the pounding she had thought was in her head…
‘Jason!’
Now in no doubt as to his reality, she extended her hands towards him, stumbling forward eagerly, and as he swept her into his arms, she heard his agonised: ‘God, I could kill you!’
CHAPTER TEN
WITH her tearful face pressed to the moist skin of his chest, she could think of nothing but the heaven of being in his arms again. It was so long since he had held her, so many days and nights when she had thought he hated her, but now she was where she wanted to be, where she belonged. It didn’t matter that the urgent way he was holding her was more in anger than any other emotion. He had been concerned about her, his trembling flesh told her that, and the sweating heat of his body spoke of the anguish he had suffered. With his hand at her nape, his fingers moving almost involuntarily among the damp curls, he was making a supreme effort to control himself, but the fierce throbbing of his heart would not subside so obediently.
Alexandra, for her part, clung to his strength with an urgency born of the torments she had experienced, uncaring of the pain to her torn and bleeding hands. Her whole body surrendered to the closeness of his embrace, and she had no thought for anyone but herself and Jason. She loved him, she needed him, and she didn’t care if he knew it.
As if sensing her feelings, Jason would have pulled back then, but as he drew away from her, saying harshly: ‘How much of this do you think I can take?’ he saw the blood that stained his chest and smeared the clinging fabric of her shirt. His features contorting, he grasped her wrists, turning up the palms for him to see, and then caught his breath on a tortured groan.
‘Oh, God!’ he muttered, in a strange voice. ‘So that’s where it came from!’ He bent his head to press his lips to her disfigured palms, his tongue gentle against the mutilated flesh. ‘We—that is, Ricardo and I—found some blood on the rocks, up there.’ He glanced impatiently up the ravine. ‘We thought—God! we didn’t know what to think.’ He shook his head in painful remembrance. ‘Alexandra, Alexandra, what am I going to do with you?’
Her eyes clung to the beloved contours of his face. ‘Wh-what do you want to do with me?’ she whispered, and his eyes closed over the torment that was mirrored there.
‘Don’t ask,’ he muttered huskily, but when he opened his eyes again, the uncertainty in her face tore away his last vestiges of control. ‘Oh, Alexandra…’ The words were wrung from him, and this time when he jerked her close, his mouth sought hers.
There was no thought of restraint. The agonies they had both gone through had sharpened their senses, and they kissed with a desperate passion. Repressions and inhibitions were swept away by the urgency of a hunger long denied, and the swelling hardness of Jason’s body left her in no doubt as to the effect she was having on him.
‘When you didn’t come back—’ he got out thickly, his hand sliding into the neckline of her shirt to probe the rounded fullness of her breast. ‘Have you any idea how I felt?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she breathed, his caresses almost stopping the breath in her throat. ‘I didn’t want to worry anyone, but the mare ran away, and I didn’t know what to do…’
‘You didn’t know what to do!’ he said dementedly, cradling her hands against him. ‘God, I nearly went out of my mind!’
Alexandra looked up at him eagerly, lips parting in unconscious appeal. ‘I—I thought you’d be so angry—’
‘Angry!’ He made a sound of frustration. ‘Angry doesn’t describe my feelings at that moment. I just wished I had you in my hands—’
‘Like this?’
‘No, not like this,’ he groaned, his half-closed lids shadowing the desire that burned in his eyes. ‘I wanted to shake you—or strangle you! Anything to prevent you from—destroying me!’
She gulped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, Alexandra!’ Shielding her with his body, he turned to glance up to where Ricardo was watching, waiting…‘I’ve tried to ignore you, but I can’t. I’ve tried to make you hate me, but it doesn’t seem to have worked very well, does it?’
‘I love you, Jason.’
‘You think you do,’ he retorted quellingly. With a determined effort, he pulled her shirt over her shoulders and fastened the buttons. ‘You’re too young to know what you want, Alexandra—’
‘I’m almost eighteen.’
‘Almost eighteen,’ he echoed grimly. ‘Alexandra, eighteen is no age at all. You’ve done nothing yet, you’ve seen nothing of life. Living in a convent all those years! It wouldn’t be—fair for me to do what—what my instincts tell me to do.’
‘Which is?’ she exclaimed breathlessly, but he shook his head.
‘That night,’ he murmured, smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead with slightly unsteady hands, ‘that night you came to my room, I would have made love to you, you know that, don’t you?’ She nodded, and he went on: ‘I couldn’t have stopped myself. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but you were there, in my bed, and I wanted you…’
‘Then take me!’ she pleaded urgently, but he shook his head as he continued:
‘Miss Holland breaking it up like that was a blessed reprieve—’
‘For you!’
‘No, for you,’ he contradicted her gently. ‘If—if we had slept together, I don’t think I would have the strength to let you go—’
‘To let me go!’ she echoed painfully, and his hands descended on her shoulders as she took an involuntary step back from him.
‘Listen to me!’ he urged tensely, and she was compelled to do so, albeit reluctantly. ‘As I said before, you’re too young! Me, I’m almost twenty years older. I’ve been around. I’ve seen something of the world—of life. I’ve even been married, although that was over long ago.’
That was a shock, and her lips trembled as she enquired tautly: ‘Was that before or after you were a mercenary?’ and his mouth turned down at the comers.
‘Who told you that, I wonder?’ he demanded. ‘I can guess, of course. It was Manuel, wasn’t it? Idealistic Manuel, with his youth, and his good looks, and his charm—and his irritatingly candid admiration for you!’
His words were harshly spoken and suddenly Alexandra thought she understood. ‘You were jealous,’ she said, only half believing it even then. ‘Jason, you were jealous of Manuel!’
His grim features revealed a faint trace of self-derision. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, but there was no joy in the admission. ‘Crazy, isn’t it? A man of my age jealous of a girl scarcely out of the schoolroom!’
‘Oh, Jason!’ With a sob, she wound her arms around his neck again, laughing and crying together as relief bubbled up inside her. ‘You don’t have t
o be jealous of anyone, don’t you know that? I don’t care about Manuel. I love you! Only you.’ She shook her head helplessly. ‘Hold me,’ she pleaded. ‘Just hold me. I can’t bear it when you turn me away.’
His arms came round her unwillingly at first, but the feel of her slim body straining against his was more than he could withstand. He could hear Ricardo shifting his feet impatiently on the ridge behind them, his spurs jingling audibly in the echoing reaches of the canyon; but the need to feel that warm mouth beneath his again overcame his scruples, and he knew that without Ricardo’s presence he would have lost his head completely. As it was, the urgent demands of his own body drove him to part from her, the ache in his loins too painful to sustain.
‘What am I going to do?’ he groaned, dragging himself away to stare down at her with smouldering eyes. ‘I can’t let you stay here, feeling as I do. It would only be a matter of time before I—’ He broke off abruptly, raking restless fingers through his hair, but his meaning was clear. ‘There is only one solution, and I guess I’ve known it all along. I’ve got to send you back to England.’
‘No—’
‘Yes.’ His firm submission overrode her horrified denial. ‘It’s all I can do—for my own sanity!’
She stared at him in hurt incredulity, and he shook her with gentle insistence. ‘Don’t look like that. It’s not the end of the world. I’m not abrogating my responsibilities—I just think it would be the best thing—for both of us. A breathing spell, if you like. It needn’t last for ever.’
‘What do you mean?’ Alexandra sniffed. ‘You know that once I’m eighteen, your responsibility for me is at an end.’
‘You think so?’ His eyes darkened with emotion. ‘You really think that your having a birthday is going to make that much difference to our relationship?’
‘I—well, you can’t go on supporting me after—after I’m of age.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because—oh, because you can’t.’ Alexandra bent her head, realising suddenly how fragile their relationship was.
‘You know I’ll have to get a job—’
‘A job!’ He made an impatient sound. ‘You really think that your being eighteen cuts the ties between us? Dear God, have I said that? Have I given that impression?’ He cast a resigned look in the foreman’s direction. ‘We can’t talk here any longer. I’ve already condemned myself in Ricardo’s eyes by touching you at all, and—’
‘Condemned yourself?’ Alexandra lifted her head to see the wry self-mockery that twisted his features.
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Ricardo’s a religious man, although you may not have guessed it from the way he behaves sometimes. But he considers I’m too old for you, too, and he thought he’d found the perfect solution…’
Alexandra’s tongue appeared. ‘Then it was his idea…’
‘…to substitute Manuel, yes.’ Jason gripped her wrists as she would have moved closer to him. ‘It was a good idea. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take it.’ His eyes dropped possessively down the length of her body. ‘Maybe he’d have more sympathy if he knew what you do to me.’
‘Oh, Jason!’
‘Stay away from me, Alexandra,’ he groaned, raising her palms to his lips once more. ‘Don’t make me despise myself any more than I do already.’
With an arm around her waist, Jason helped her up the rough incline to where Ricardo was waiting. His boots were firm on the shifting scree, and he dragged them up with clumps of turf until they were standing on the sandy track at the top of the ravine. Looking back, Alexandra shivered, but then Ricardo claimed her attention.
‘What happened?’ he demanded, and there was disapproval in every line of his bulky body.
Jason sighed again, taking hold of his horse’s bridle. ‘The mare made off,’ he answered, and Alexandra realised her explanation had been far too brief for the length of time Jason had spent with her.
‘I—I saw the stallion,’ she offered, glancing awkwardly at her guardian. ‘I’d dismounted for a rest and I guess I didn’t tether the mare very securely.’
‘Hah!’ Ricardo snorted. ‘If Manuel had been with you—’
‘But he wasn’t,’ said Jason, and there was a hard quality in his voice that brooked no argument. Then he turned to Alexandra and indicated his mount. ‘Come on. We’d better get back before Miss Holland has hysterics.’
‘You did not seem so concerned for her welfare some minutes ago,’ observed Ricardo caustically, and when Jason ignored him, he went on: ‘What were you doing in the ravine, señorita? When we found the blood, we thought we had found—’
He broke off abruptly at that point, but Alexandra, now astride Jason’s horse, turned to look at him. ‘What did you think you’d found, Ricardo? The wounded mountain lion? Oh, yes—’ this as Jason sucked in his breath in angry disbelief, ‘I know about the prowler.’
‘Then in God’s name why did you go into the ravine?’ snapped Jason, suddenly angry, swinging himself up behind her so that his hard thighs dug into her back. ‘Who told you? Manuel, again? He should learn to keep his mouth shut.’
Even Ricardo looked sheepish at this, and Alexandra hastened on: ‘It wasn’t truly his fault. It just—slipped out.’
‘Really?’ Jason did not sound convinced, but he dug in his knees to urge the horse forward and Alexandra gave herself up to the pleasures evoked by the movement of his body behind her. They rode ahead of Ricardo out of the ravine, and as they did so, she saw the trail the mare must have taken snaking away around its rim.
Resting her head back against Jason’s shoulder, she murmured softly: ‘You’re not really angry with me, are you? I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I just wanted to—to—’
‘—thwart me,’ he finished huskily, his hand sliding over her midriff to the swelling mound of her breast. ‘I’m not a fool, Alexandra.’
Her breath caught in her throat at his caresses, but she had to go on. ‘I thought you despised me. I thought you stopped Manuel riding with me because you thought he might be—corrupted by my company.’
‘Oh, God!’ He bent his head to inhale the fragrance of her hair, and she felt his lips against her nape. ‘If you only knew how I felt when you and Ricardo discussed those trips in the evening…’
Alexandra relaxed against him. ‘Then you’re not going to send me away?’ she breathed, but immediately, he stiffened.
‘Six months,’ he said, and her stomach contracted. ‘Six months is a reasonable period. It will give you time to get things into perspective.’
‘It will give you time, you mean!’ she blurted hotly, and his fingers bruised the soft skin of her breast.
‘No,’ he contradicted savagely. ‘I know what I want. But I respect your father’s memory too much to abuse the trust he placed in me.’
Alexandra’s hands clenched painfully. Now she should tell him the truth. Now she should reveal exactly how little trust her father had placed in him. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t!
‘Miss Holland shall go with you,’ he was continuing relentlessly. ‘It will be winter here soon, but it’s spring in England. Go to England, Alexandra. Have the summer to think it over. Come back to me at the end of the year, if you still want to.’
‘If I still want to…’ she whispered tearfully. ‘Oh, Jason, you can’t do this!’
‘I assure you, I can,’ he affirmed, and there was an implacability about him that separated them even as they rode together.
As if sensing it was now acceptable for him to ride with them, Ricardo came alongside at that moment, saying crisply: ‘What a welcome home Estelita has had, no? Still, it is as well she is there to comfort the old one.’
With Jason’s hand shifting to grip the pommel, he did not feel the retching upheaval of Alexandra’s stomach, and she strove desperately for control. Until then it had not occurred to her to wonder how Jason had discovered she was missing, but with Ricardo’s words she had her answer. When he left that morning, it had not been to go out with the men as she had im
agined. He must have driven to Valvedra to fetch Estelita.
As if annoyed with the foreman for blurting it out like that, Jason explained quietly: ‘Estelita’s mother is making good progress. She sent a message yesterday, via the doctor at Puerto Novo, that she was ready to come home.’
To come home! The words tore into Alexandra’s already shattered defences, ripping her to shreds with their intimate intonation. Home! Estelita’s home. But not hers. Never hers! He was sending her away, just as Estelita came back, and the implications were impossible to avoid. She was almost glad when she saw the hacienda ahead of them, and when Miss Holland ran to meet them she wrenched herself away from Jason and down from his horse’s back, to throw herself into the older woman’s arms.
There were reproaches, of course, and recriminations, but the injuries to her hands were such that not even Miss Holland could remain immune from their vulnerability. Instead, she whisked Alexandra upstairs with the minimum of preliminaries, leaving Jason and Ricardo to explain what had happened.
But in the bathroom, with the door locked securely behind them, she gave vent to her feelings.
‘You could have died!’ she exclaimed, fussing over the cuts and scratches on her palms. ‘You knew how I would feel if I discovered where you had gone, but you didn’t care.’
‘I did care,’ protested Alexandra tremulously. ‘Only—only—’
‘Only you had to show Mr Tarrant how independent you were!’ finished Miss Holland tersely. ‘Oh, Alexandra! You should have heard the language he used to me when he discovered you were missing!’
Despite her misery, Alexandra couldn’t help the sudden sense of excitement at Miss Holland’s words. ‘Why?’ she cried. ‘What did he say? Was that after he brought Estelita back?’
‘He didn’t bring Señora Vargas back,’ retorted Miss Holland, dabbing at her hands tenderly with a swab of cotton wool, but Alexandra hardly felt the pain.
‘He didn’t?’ she probed. ‘Then who—’
