by Penny Jordan
He let go of her arm and reached out and touched her breast very gently, just stroking its outer curve with his fingertips, but it was enough to send such a shock of sensation jolting through her that Christa couldn’t quite suppress her small, sharp moan of pleasure.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ Daniel asked thickly, but even before Christa had shaken her head he was moving closer to her, his mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses against her skin, his fingers quickly working free the buttons on her shirt…Quickly, but not nearly quickly enough, Christa acknowledged, as she arched against him with a small sob of frantic release when she finally felt the warmth of his breath against her naked breasts.
In the past the thought of having her breasts stroked and suckled by a lover had never been one she had found particularly sexually exciting, and to witness a love-scene in a film where a couple were mimicking such an act with mutual evidence of considerable enjoyment was something she had found more embarrassing than exciting. But now, with Daniel’s mouth making its way down the slope of her breast while his fingers caressed its swollen peak, her need to feel his mouth against her flesh was so demandingly urgent that it literally made her feel faint with longing, her hand already lifting to press his head closer to her body, her back arching.
Her sob of relief when his mouth finally closed over her nipple quickly turned to choked, breathless whimpers of shocked pleasure as he suckled on her, slowly at first and then more deeply, more hungrily as he felt her response and her body began to move against his in an increasingly urgent rhythm that mirrored his erotic suckling.
Heat and delight radiated and pulsed from her breast all the way through her nervous system.
Low down in her body she had started to ache and soften, and when Daniel parted her legs and thrust one of his own between them she leaned eagerly against him, straining to get as close to him as she could.
Being able to feel his arousal through their clothes, knowing that he wanted her, that his body was pulsing as hungrily for her as that secret place within her own was for him, made her cry out his name in sharp frustration.
‘Yes, I know. I know,’ he told her thickly, releasing her breast, his face hot and damp as he leaned against her body, his hand trembling slightly as he covered the damp nakedness of her breast. ‘I promised and we’ve got to stop. I know…’
No, that isn’t what I want, Christa wanted to say, but he was already releasing her, tenderly fastening her clothes, smiling ruefully into her eyes as she lifted her head to watch him after a despairing, yearning look at the still hard tautness of his body beneath the thick covering of the jeans.
How could he do this to her, to them both when he must know how much she wanted him? Christa wondered wretchedly as he stepped back from her.
‘I don’t want this to be a casual, careless thing between us,’ he told her gently, as though he had read her thoughts. ‘Like you, I don’t carry the means to ensure safe sex around with me, and once I get inside you there’s just no way that I’m going to be able to stop, and the last thing I’d want…’ He stopped, shaking his head, but Christa didn’t need him to continue. What he meant was that the last thing he would want would be for her to conceive his child…It was, of course, the last thing she would want either, so why did hearing him say the words make her feel so much in pain?
‘Anyway,’ Daniel was saying as he moved away from her, ‘I think it’s time we moved on to less dangerous topics of conversation, don’t you?
‘Tomorrow we’ll do our first mountain walk. Nothing too difficult, I promise. But you will need to wear proper walking clothes and boots…What is it?’ he asked as Christa bit her bottom lip.
‘I don’t have any proper walking clothes, nor any boots,’ she reminded him. ‘I…The brochure…’ She stopped, not wanting to lie to him, but not really wanting to admit the truth either.
‘I see. Well, it isn’t the end of the world. As I told you before, fortunately there’s a first-rate climbing and sports equipment shop in town. We’ll drive over there first thing in the morning and get you kitted out.’
As she watched him, Christa wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms, holding him and being held by him. But he was right, their personal feelings for one another had to be put on hold until after her course was over.
Which reminded her that there was something she had to say.
‘Daniel,’ she began quietly, holding his gaze with her own. ‘This…what has happened, is happening between us won’t alter my feelings about—well, it won’t change my mind. I have to be honest with you. I still don’t believe that what you’re doing here can really…’
‘The course isn’t over yet,’ Daniel cut in firmly. ‘And don’t worry, Christa, the last thing I’d expect—or want from you—is for you to let your judgement be swayed by our personal feelings.
‘I’m not the kind of man who expects or wants a woman to echo my views—far from it.’
‘There are men who enjoy controlling a woman through sex,’ Christa pointed out quietly.
‘Yes,’ Daniel agreed, ‘but I’m not one of them. Just as you aren’t the type of woman who would want to control or manipulate a man through his desire for you.
‘You know, Christa,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘sometimes I feel almost as though you’re trying to fit me into a mould, a preconceived belief of what I am. It’s as though, without knowing me, you’d already decided what kind of man I was.
‘I’ve watched you when I’ve obviously said or done something that conflicts with that image. You’re not sure whether you like it or not, are you? It’s all right,’ he told her when she remained silent. ‘I’m not trying to probe or pry. If and when you want to tell me more about him, whoever he was, I’ll be ready to listen. But don’t judge me by him, Christa, because I’m not him.
‘Which of us is it that you find the hardest to trust? Me, or yourself?’
The way he smiled at her as he reached out and gently touched her face robbed his words of any malice or criticism, but they still hurt, Christa recognised. Not just because he had so astutely recognised her feelings, but because he had also so skilfully homed in on one of her deepest fears.
She was afraid of trusting herself; of her own judgement.
She was afraid of her own feelings…Of wanting him…Of loving him, of allowing him into her life and her heart.
But it was too late, a tiny inner voice whispered to her. He was already there. She was already vulnerable…exposed and in danger…
CHAPTER SIX
‘QUICK, look over there—isn’t that a spaceship landing?’
Jolted out of her thoughts, not so much by what Daniel was saying as by the urgent tone of his voice, Christa looked up obediently and stared through the window of the moving Land Rover, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she heard Daniel laughing.
‘Well, at least it got a response,’ he defended, as she gave him a wry look. ‘You’ve been very quiet for the last half-hour, very deep in thought. Anything I need to know about?’
The question was light enough, but the look he gave her was anything but, Christa acknowledged, and, as her heart teetered on the brink of a spectacularly high dive, her pulse-rate soared.
She had been awake half the night going over and over what had happened between them, and even when she had been asleep she had been dreaming about him. She knew how much she wanted him now, needed him, loved him, but a part of her still feared those emotions, so much so that there had been several occasions during the night when it had urged her to get up and run while she still could.
‘Not really,’ she fibbed now in response to his question. ‘Not unless you’ve got a particular interest in the designs for next season’s fabrics.’
She hadn’t deceived him, Christa recognised, but fortunately a wandering and very reckless sheep, on its way across the road, diverted his attention for long enough for her to change the subject as they turned a corner and she saw their destination in the valley below them.
‘Yup.’
It looked more like a large village than a town, Christa decided as she studied the haphazard arrangement of narrow streets and terraced houses, grey stone buildings set under grey slate roofs, the whole area enclosed by the mountains which surrounded it. She could see the open area of the cattle market to one side of the town and, rather unexpectedly, the tall spire of a church.
‘There was a time when a lot of the local landlords were English rather than Welsh,’ Daniel explained when she commented on this. ‘As well as the church, the town boasts a posting inn and a small spa, although that’s closed at the moment for renovation.
‘The slate covering the roofs was quarried locally. There are shale deposits all over the mountains, many of them very dangerously unstable, especially at this time of the year when the water table can be at its highest.’
‘What difference does that make?’ Christa asked him curiously.
‘A great deal when there’s a hidden underground water course beneath the shale.’
They were down in the town now, its narrow streets far more crowded than those Christa was used to. She wouldn’t have enjoyed being the one driving through them, she acknowledged as Daniel waited good-naturedly for people to walk past before driving on.
There was a considerable difference in attitude here compared to her home town, she noticed, as people stopped to acknowledge one another and call out cheerful greetings to the drivers they made way for. At home on a busy Saturday, drivers and pedestrians were more inclined to be mutual antagonists than to exhibit friendliness towards one another.
An old woman wearing a headscarf and carrying a basket was walking towards them, her face breaking into a warm smile as she saw Daniel.
He immediately stopped the Land Rover and wound down his window, calling out warmly to her.
‘It’s good to see you off those crutches, Meg. The ankle’s mended now, has it?’
‘Indeed it has,’ she agreed.
‘Well, just remember,’ Daniel warned her, ‘no more roof-mending…’
‘Roof-mending?’ Christa queried in astonishment when they were moving again.
‘Mmm…Meg owns and runs a smallholding just outside town. Some storm damage left her without half a dozen roof-tiles and she fell and broke her ankle while she was trying to replace them.’
‘What?’ Christa exclaimed, aghast. ‘But she must be well into her sixties…’
‘She’s seventy-one,’ Daniel corrected her drily.
‘Why on earth did she try to do that kind of job herself? Why didn’t she get someone in to do it?’
‘Because that isn’t the way things are done around here,’ Daniel told her. ‘People round here are self-sufficient and proud of it. They’ve had to be, but in Meg’s case…Well, the vegetables she grows don’t bring her in much of an income and she’s the kind who’s too proud to ask anyone else for help.’
‘But she could have been killed,’ Christa protested as she tried to imagine herself even thinking of attempting to do a similar repair on her own roof.
‘We’ll park here,’ Daniel told her, turning into a side street. ‘The sports shop is only a few yards away…’
‘I’m not completely helpless,’ Christa told him acerbically. ‘I can manage to walk the length of a couple of streets.’
‘It’s a cold day, and the wind is very sharp. You aren’t dressed for that kind of weather,’ Daniel told her. ‘Not that you don’t look good,’ he added softly. ‘Very good. That colour suits you…Armani, is it?’ he added, indicating her suit.
Christa was surprised. The pale biscuit-coloured trouser suit was one of her favourites and it suited her, she knew, but somehow she hadn’t expected Daniel to recognise its source.
‘Yes, it is,’ she admitted ruefully.
She was tempted to quiz him about how he was able to recognise and name the designer, but something held her back.
Why? Because she suspected…feared that it was the kind of knowledge which could only have come to him via an intimate relationship with another woman?
Piers had been very well up on all the current top designers; when he and Laura had first met he had insisted on her completely changing her image.
‘He says I should only wear natural fabrics, silk and cashmere,’ she had told Christa, pink-cheeked as she confessed, ‘He says there’s nothing more sensual than the touch of silk against a woman’s skin.’
He had also been responsible for Laura having her untidy, mousy hair restyled and streaked at a top London hairdressers, and for the make-up lessons which had followed.
But none of that had apparently been enough to turn her into the woman he wanted, and it certainly hadn’t stopped him from having affairs once they were married.
‘Come back,’ Daniel commanded quietly. ‘No, I’m not going to ask,’ he added, when she looked warily at him. ‘When you want me to know, you’ll tell me…I hope. You see, Christa, I’m not like you. I do have faith…and trust…’
Christa opened her mouth to deny his comment and then closed it again.
If only it were so easy, she reflected forlornly as Daniel climbed out of the Land Rover and came round to open her door for her, helping her out into the street.
The sports shop was a large, cheerful place, full of brightly coloured equipment and healthy-looking, smiling individuals. One of them, a girl, was demonstrating a step exercise to a slightly nervous-looking woman with two young children. Another, a young man whose muscles rippled impressively beneath his T-shirt, was walking towards them.
Christa listened silently as Daniel explained what she wanted. She was half expecting to be loaded down with thick, heavy clothing in dull colours, but the lightweight weatherproof jacket the young man produced was zingingly bright, a sharp acid yellow.
‘It’s a colour which can be picked out easily from the sky—a big help when it comes to mountain rescue,’ Daniel told her.
Christa grimaced, thankful that that was one consideration she did not need to worry about.
Half an hour later, when they left the shop, she had bought the jacket, a pair of surprisingly fashionable protective leggings, socks, clothes, thermal underwear and, of course, boots.
‘Right, now that we’ve got you kitted out, first thing tomorrow morning you and I are going for a walk…’
Daniel grinned at her when Christa groaned.
‘Ah, there you are, Daniel…’
Both of them stopped as the old woman they had seen earlier walked towards them.
‘Just wanted to thank you for what you did,’ she said with a gruff shyness, ignoring Christa. ‘Not that there was any need, mind. I could have managed that roof by myself…Alan Jones said there was to be no bill,’ she added, giving Daniel a sharp look. ‘I don’t like being indebted to people…’
‘One good turn deserves another, Meg,’ Daniel replied easily.
‘Maybe, but I haven’t done you any good turns…’
‘Not yet,’ Daniel agreed. ‘But I’m hoping that you will. It’s that billy of mine; he’s getting lonely. You keep goats…’
‘You want me to take him off your hands? Well, I could do, I suppose…’ Meg agreed. ‘But I don’t want charity…not even from you. I don’t want others paying my way for me. I can’t take him until the end of the month and you’ll have to bring him over.’
‘Done,’ Daniel agreed with a smile. ‘The end of the month it is.’
‘You’re getting rid of Clarence?’ Christa asked him when Meg had gone. As she waited for his response she was still digesting the content of their dialogue. It was plain that Daniel had paid for Meg’s roof to be repaired.
There was just no way that Piers, or indeed Daniel himself, if he had been the kind of man she had suspected him of being, would ever have undertaken such a generous act.
She could feel an odd sensation of warmth growing inside her body, an easing, a relaxing, a melting almost of so
me icy coldness which had previously gripped it; a feeling of relief, glorious, heady, empowering… freeing…spread through her, making her want to smile, making her want to laugh and sing, to run, to—
’I think it’s perhaps time he had a new home,’ Daniel was saying in response to her question. ‘He needs the company, and besides…’
‘Besides what?’ Christa teased him boldly, her eyes suddenly sparkling, warmth colouring her face.
‘Besides, I can’t have him frightening you half to death and getting you in such a state that you throw yourself into my arms,’ Daniel told her softly. His eyes, she noticed breathlessly, seemed to develop an almost luminescent quality when he was happy—and aroused.
‘I did not throw myself into your arms…’ she told him in mock indignation.
‘Maybe not,’ he murmured. ‘But that’s exactly where you’re going to end up any second now if you keep on looking at me like that. You do know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Christa told him shakily, suddenly filled with reckless happiness.
She reached out and touched his arm, marvelling at the way even her lightest touch could affect him.
‘Let’s not wait, Daniel,’ she told him huskily. ‘I don’t want to…not any more, and…and I don’t think I can,’ she admitted honestly.
He went so still that for a moment she thought she had said the wrong thing. The brilliance and clarity of her joy started to dim, her face flushing as she looked away from him, her voice taut with misery as she told him, ‘I’m sorry…I shouldn’t…’
‘What? Tell me that you want me? Is that what you really think?’
She tensed as he took hold of her, swinging her round into the protection of a boarded-up doorway.
