Charlotte Lamb - Pagan Encounter

by Charlotte Lamb

  Fiona was considering Phil out of her green eyes. 'I've heard a rumour that you may be going to Saudi Arabia for six months soon,' she said disconsolately.

  'I was offered the chance,' he agreed. He glanced at Leigh. 'I turned it down, though.'

  'Wouldn't Leigh let you take it?' Mattieson Hume asked him.

  Phil flushed, taking the irony of the tone. 'I didn't want to go,' he said irritably.

  'It would be fascinating,' Jefferson sighed. 'I'd give my eye teeth to have the chance of spending six months abroad being paid all that money.'

  Leigh looked at Phil curiously. 'All that money?' she asked him.

  'They offered me double salary to go,' he admitted. Her eyes widened. 'Really?'

  'You could save a fortune while you were out there,' Jefferson muttered. 'I would have thought you two would be glad of the extra money. Marriage is damned expensive, you know. I suppose you're looking for a house?'

  'Not yet,' said Phil.

  'When is the wedding date?' asked Mattieson Hume, leaning back, his head lying on the black leather couch, his hands in his jacket pockets. He had a lazy, casual way of doing everything which forced Leigh to notice him. Beneath that easy air was an enormous dynamism, as if the silken cloak of his manner hid a terrible power.

  'We haven't decided on it yet,' she said firmly, meeting his grey stare with all the coldness she could muster. Fiona was bored with this discussion of the wedding.

  She looked across at Phil, her face restless. 'There's a band playing in the next room.

  Why don't we go and dance for a while?'

  'Good idea,' said Phil, looking eagerly at Leigh. 'I think I'll go to bed,' she said. 'It's getting late. But you go, Phil.'

  'Nonsense,' Mattieson Hume put in, before Phil could say anything in reply. 'Of course you'll dance.' He was on his feet as he spoke, his hard hand lifting her as if she were a doll. Leigh wanted to scream or bite him, but she was helpless under his ironic gaze in public, she allowed him to push her inexorably towards the door. Phil, Fiona and Jefferson followed them. Leigh stayed ahead, saying under her breath, 'Will you get your dammed hands off me?'

  'You say that so convincingly, Leigh,' he mocked, 'What a pity you lie in your teeth.'

  She looked at him involuntarily. His steely eyes danced, mocking her. 'You made it transparently plain in the lift that you liked having my hands on you,' he said softly.

  They walked into the other room. It was a long, elegant place with silk brocade couches lining the walls, tables at which couples sat talking by the light of pink lamp and a polished parquet floor on which a number of couples were moving to the music of a small band.

  Mattieson Hume's arm suddenly slid around her waist and she gave a low murmur of surprised alarm. He looked down at her, pulling her closer. 'We came in here to dance remember?'

  'No with you,' she said unsteadily.

  'With me, Leigh.' he said, moving her into the throng of couples with a long twist of his lean body. Over his shoulders she caught sight of Phil's angry face. He was watching them intently.

  Mattieson Hume swung her around so that she no longer saw Phil. 'Your fiance looks as if he's going to explode any minute,' he murmured, his dark head lowering to smooth her cheek.

  Her pulses beat violently. 'You swine,' she said shakily. 'I detest you!'

  She felt his lips quiver in a smile against her skin. 'You little liar,' he said in her ear.

  'Why don't you leave me alone?' she asked in angry desperation.

  'Because you amuse me,' he said, and his head pulled back so that he could smile into her bitter blue eyes. 'I enjoy seeing that frustrated rage in your eyes. It makes you look almost as human as you did when I stopped kissing you in the lift.' The grey eyes ran over her angry face. 'When I saw you in the dining-room you looked like the empress of ice and snow, haughtily untouchable, so I had a bet with myself about how long it would take to thaw a woman out of the block of ice you live inside.'

  Breathing stiffly, her body tense with impotent rage, she asked him coldly, 'And did you win?'

  The grey eyes focused on her mouth, making her dance stiffly in his arms, deeply conscious of their glance. 'You know I did,' he said softly.

  Leigh wanted so badly to hit him that her whole body shook with the desire. He grinned lazily at her, watching her expression.

  'Not in public, Leigh,' he advised in mock gravity. 'Your fiance would be shocked and it would cause a scandal.'

  She lowered her blue eyes, her dark lashes sweeping down over her cheeks. She was aware of such hatred that she thought desperately of some way of wiping the lazy smile off his handsome face. If only, she thought, I could hit back at him ... and remembered with a shock hearing Ann say a very similar thing. Ann had groaned.

  'If only I could make him suffer as he made me suffer!'

  Leigh could imagine that many other women had said the same thing about this man.

  She looked up suddenly to find him watching her, the smile absent from his hard face for a few seconds, and a curiously intent look in his grey eyes. There was an odd silence as their eyes met. Leigh felt her mouth go dry. His hand pulled her closer, and she sensed that the movement was involuntary. His cheek descended against hers and she began to tremble, as she had in the lift, shattered by the awareness of him that she felt.

  For a few moments they danced in silence. Their steps flowed in harmony, their bodies seemed to cling without volition. She could hear his heart beating against her own and the warmth of his breath on her bare shoulders.

  Then the music stopped and they halted near the edge of the floor, slowly drawing apart. Without looking at him she walked back towards where Jefferson was sitting, his disconsolate eyes on Phil and Fiona as they walked back together, talking.

  'Well, thank you for the dance,' Mattieson Hume said. He glanced at Phil as he joined them, his eyes jealous. 'Goodnight. I think I'll have an early night.'

  Leigh was sitting down, her head averted. She felt his light glance at her. Then he was gone and she almost collapsed with the relief of having his presence withdrawn. In his company she felt as if she were permanently on edge, as if any second something disastrous would happen. He was the most infuriating, detestable man she had ever met, and she yearned for a chance to revenge herself on him for his behaviour today.

  Jefferson whirled Fiona away triumphantly, and Phil sat down and stared at Leigh's bent blonde head, his gaze brooding.

  'What were you saying to Hume?' he asked her tightly.

  She looked up, her face calm. 'As little as possible,' she said truthfully.

  'You were dancing with him as if you were in a dream,' Phil added, the ragged tone of his jealousy apparent.

  'I was thinking how much I would like to hit him,' Leigh said, still telling the truth. 'I've never met a man I hate as much as Mattieson Hume. I'd like to see him thrown into a river full of crocodiles!'

  'Odd our meeting him here after what Ann told you,' Phil commented, his attitude relaxing a little. 'Mind you, I expect there was a lot of smoke and no fire behind her story.

  Ann seemed a rather over-emotional kid to me.'

  'I believe every word of it,' Leigh said bitterly. 'Mattieson Hume is a first-class bastard and someone ought to flay him alive.'

  Phil laughed. 'My God, you've got it in for him, darling! He's a good-looking brute, you must admit.'

  'Brute is the operative word,' she snapped. 'I hope to God we don't set eyes on him again during the weekend.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  NEXT morning after breakfast Phil and his firm went off to the first session of the Euro Conference in the Conference Centre, leaving Leigh free for the whole morning to wander around the London shops and window-shop alone. She came out of the lift, her mind preoccupied with the problem of finding a present to take back for her parents.

  They collected Wedgwood china, and she wanted to find them a nice piece which would fill a hole in their collection, but was torn between a piece of jasper or a very de
licate floral design which her mother preferred. Walking out of the hotel, her eyes abstracted, she did not notice the car which was parked at the kerb outside until a hand descended on her elbow, making her start, and she looked round into Mattieson Hume's face.

  She stiffened. 'What do you want?' Her tone was freezing, but he appeared unconcerned.

  'Get in,' he said, opening the passenger seat of the long ice-blue limousine.

  She pulled back angrily. 'No. thank you,' she said in tones of biting displeasure.

  His eyes mocked her. 'Want me to pick you up and throw you in?'

  For a full moment they stared at each other, conflict raging between them. Leigh was unaccustomed to loosing arguments. For years she had protected herself inside a shield of icy calm. Now she found her armour ineffective against the stark insistence of that hard male face.

  She was conscious that when he said something he meant it, and that he would not hesitate for an instant in carrying out his threat. While she was meeting the ironic stare of his grey eyes, she was assessing her chances of getting away from him, and realising that they were nil. He moved faster, thought quicker and was more deadly than she was--a damned male scorpion, she thought bitterly.

  His hand impatiently pushed her inside the car and slammed the door. She turned to jump out, but he was already round to his own side and sliding behind the wheel. She twisted the handle as he started the engine, but the door didn't move.

  'It locks automatically on the dashboard.' he murmured drily, moving away into the traffic.

  'You bastard,' she said under her breath, in a childishly raging tone.

  He laughed, giving her an amused glance. 'The icy calm is peeling off again, Leigh.

  You'd better watch it. Where's the haughty dignity with which you punish your poor worm of a fiance?'

  'I do nothing of the kind,' she snapped.

  'I've seen you do it,' he said calmly. 'One icy look from those blue eyes and he grovels. In his place ...'

  'I've heard all that before,' she said stormily.

  He leaned back and one long hand slid silkily over her knee. 'So you have,' he murmured.

  She slapped at his hand, but it had gone before she made contact, and instead she hit herself. He made a derisive sound.

  'Where do you think you're taking me?' she asked him, somehow controlling her voice, the icy reserve in it uppermost although she could sense that he knew very well that beneath that lay the panic and fear of him which those moments in the lift had produced.

  'I thought Hyde Park would be pleasant,' he said casually.

  'Hyde Park!' For a second or two she was taken aback.

  'It's a nice morning for a walk in the park, don't you think?' He sounded as though they were polite acquaintances, his eyes fixed on the thick traffic through which they were moving.

  Leigh took a long, deep breath. 'Will you stop at the next corner and let me out, please, Mr. Hume? Or do I have to shout for help to the next policeman I see?'

  His head turned. The grey eyes were filled with laughter. 'If you look out of the car you'll see one right now,' he said mockingly.

  She involuntarily turned her head. A young constable was strolling along the pavement, eyeing the shoppers without interest. Leigh's face betrayed her angry feelings of helpless impotence. She had not got the courage to make a scene in public, and he knew it. He was trading on it.

  She looked back at him, flame in her blue eyes. 'You're quite detestable!' she snapped.

  He laughed openly. 'You disappoint me. I thought for a moment you were going to do it.'

  'What would you have done if I had?' she asked, suddenly curious.

  He glanced at her through his lashes. 'Try it and see.'

  His arrogant, careless tone infuriated her. A defiant look came into her eyes, a glint of angry determination which did not escape his shrewd appraisal. His smile broadened, then he swung the car left towards the inviting green shade of Hyde Park. Around the park the traffic swirled thickly, but beneath the trees the peace and brightness of the morning held a promise of refreshment.

  The car slowed, drew into a car park and deftly slid into a vacant space. Tensely Leigh waited for him to unlock her door. He turned, his eyes very bright, and opened his own door. She fumbled quickly for the handle and found herself free. Scrambling out, she began to walk quickly away through the trees. It was not far to Marble Arch, she reminded herself. She would walk there and do her window-shopping.

  He caught her up before she had gone far, his fingers catching her wrist and halting her.

  'Let me go!' she demanded, facing him with a flushed face.

  'I really mean it this time...let me go or I'll scream until every policeman in ten miles can hear me!'

  'No need to make that much noise,' he said with a grin. 'There's one over there.'

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw the blue uniform advancing stolidly along the path not a few feet away from them. For a few seconds her innate dislike of a scene held her silent. Mattieson Hume watched her closely, a smile on his hard mouth.

  His hand slid suddenly from her wrist to her waist and the small movement made up her mind for her. She pulled away violently and called, 'Officer!'

  The policeman did not hurry his pace. Politely he came forward at the regulation pace and surveyed her. 'Can I help you, miss?'

  'Tell him to leave me alone,' Leigh burst out raggedly, afraid she would lose her nerve if she didn't speak at once. 'H-he's bothering me!'

  The calm official eyes moved to Mattieson Hume's face. Leigh, trembling a little, very pink, did not dare to let her own glance meet the steel of the insolent grey eyes. Instead she held her hands laced at her waist, looking appealingly at the policeman.

  'I'm sorry, constable,' said that detestable voice, quivering with maddening amusement. 'Bridal nerves, I'm afraid.' He reached out and picked up her left hand before she understood what he meant to do, and flashed the diamond ring before the policeman's eyes. 'Just because I prefer a double bed while she prefers twin beds she's been treating me like a leper for the last half hour.'

  'Oh!' exclaimed Leigh on a positive hiss of rage. 'Oh, you liar ... you ... officer, don't take any notice of him. It isn't true!'

  'My mother says a marriage depends on double beds,' Mattieson Hume said seriously. 'It keeps a couple together.' He slid a long hand around her neck, his fingers caressing her nape. 'After we're married, Leigh, I insist on a double bed.'

  'I wouldn't marry you if you went down on your knees to me!' she said in shaky fury.

  'Darling, how can you say that after the way you responded last night?' he reproached her.

  She spun towards him, her face flaming. 'You know very well, you devil, that I had no choice!'

  'I'm only human, Leigh,' he sighed, his face a mask of mock penitence. 'And we are getting married. Don't embarrass the officer with the details of our love life, darling.'

  'Oh!' she half sobbed, glaring at him.

  The policeman coughed, shifting his feet.

  Mattieson put an arm around Leigh before she could get away, pushing her face into his shirt front, although she struggled every inch of the way. 'You must excuse her, officer,' he said. His hand held her head buried against him although she tugged to get free. 'She's very highly strung at the moment.'

  'I understand, sir,' the policeman said. 'Good luck for the wedding. Personally, I couldn't agree more about the double bed. It's cheaper than a hot water bottle.'

  Mattieson's laughter almost drove her mad. She began to struggle violently, but felt herself lifted into his arms, as easily as if she were a child, and carried, her face twisting to extricate itself from his shirt. He sat down with her across his lap and at last she was free, only to find herself sitting on the grass beneath the trees, the blue uniform already receding into the distance, and Mattieson Hume looking down into her face with a twist of mockery on his lips.

  She looked at him, her eyes burning. 'I hate you,' she said, through lips which shook.
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  'Do you, Leigh?' He laughed, bending his head.

  Leigh's heart beat with a mixture of rage and desire which deafened her. They kissed like enemies exchanging blows in a bitter battle, a wild, savage exchange which made her breathless. On the heels of rage came a stronger emotion, engulfing her before she had time to understand what was happening to her. Her traitorous body weakened, succumbing to the need to submit to him, and she drowned in sensuous sweetness, her hands moving over him restlessly, her head thrown back to receive his kiss.

  When he pulled back his head they were both breathing fast, and she was almost dizzy, her arms locked around his neck, clinging to him, as if she were afraid of falling.

  'You show hatred very excitingly, Leigh,' he murmured, his mouth sardonic.

  Hot with shame and self-contempt, she struggled to get away, but he held her too tightly, his hands controlling her. She jerked backward and fell, rolling on to her back.

  Instantly he was beside her, his face staring down into hers as he held her immobile with one hand.

  'At least you won't ever try to involve someone else in our little war, again, will you, Leigh?' he mocked. 'You're a clear-headed girl. Face facts. This is between you and me.

  There's no appeal to outsiders.'

  'There's nothing between you and me,' she said fiercely.

  His eyes travelled over her slowly. 'Except a few clothes, and I could soon change that,' he agreed, tongue in cheek.

  Her face flamed. 'I'd like to wipe that smug grin off your face!' she flung angrily.

  'Try it,' he said softly.

  She met his challenging eyes and her hand flew up. He caught it, forcing it down on to the grass without difficulty. She seethed, her eyes loathing him.

  'Let me go!'

  'So that you can smack my face? What do you take me for?'