Wild Jasmine

by Yvonne Whittal

  'It obviously gives you a great deal of satisfaction and pleasure to hurt and insult me, and I'm not going to do or say anything to deprive you of that.' Her voice was remarkably calm despite the painful turbulence inside her. 'What I would like to know is why do you feel this way? What have I ever done to you, or to anyone else for that matter, that you should have such a low opinion of me?'

  He was so close to her that she could smell his particular brand of aftershave. It stirred her senses, but that harsh, twisted smile about his mouth stabbed like ice at her heart.

  'You're a woman,' he said, 'and all women possess a calculating and devious streak that makes them flaunt themselves at unsuspecting males like Michael. You've also been spoilt, honey,' he added disdainfully. 'During your final year at university you wanted to drop out. It didn't matter to you that your father had spent a lot of money on your studies. You were ready to throw it away, and you had the audacity to demand more to indulge in a venture which gave no guarantee that it would succeed.'

  Sarika's head shot up. 'Did my father tell you that?'

  'You're damn right he did!'

  'I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said he didn't quite tell you the truth?' she probed tentatively.

  'You can bet your life I wouldn't believe you!' he snarled, and she lowered her long gold lashes to veil the pain in her eyes.

  She felt defeated, beaten, and the pain of it was like a heated blade piercing her soul. How could she tell him? How could she ever tell anyone the true facts? No one would ever believe her… least of all Sean!

  She turned from him in silence and, picking up her overnight bag, walked out of the living-room with her head held high to hide her feelings. She went up the stairs to her room, but her steps were heavy and laboured as if she was carrying an unaccustomed load on her shoulders.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The bathroom walls seemed to fling Sarika's painful thoughts back at her as if they were rubber balls being bounced against the white tiles. There was anger, resentment and despair surging through her, and she winced anew at the pain Sean had inflicted. She was in love with him, it was true, but her lips were unfamiliar with the words, and she could not even say them to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the hand basin. Her face looked pinched and pale beneath her newly acquired tan, and she pushed a tired hand through her hair as she turned away to open the door into her bedroom.

  The bedside light filled the room with its soft glow, and she walked barefoot across the carpet with her head bent while she fastened the belt of her robe, but the next instant she froze, her glance darting wildly about the room when something warned her she was not alone. Sean was seated in an armchair in front of the window, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his arms crossed over his wide chest. His dark glance swept over her with something close to insolence, and an icy anger shook through her.

  'What are you doing here in my room?' she demanded, her hands shaking when she tightened the belt of her robe about her waist. 'What do you want?'

  'What is the truth, Sarika?' he asked in a quiet, ominous voice, and she did not venture closer to him, but she wondered at the reason for this sudden desire for the truth when less than an hour ago he had been convinced that he knew it.

  'The truth is whatever you want to believe,' she answered coldly. 'Now, if you don't mind, I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed.'

  Sean made no attempt to leave, and there was a challenge in his piercing glance. 'You can go to bed when I've had a few straight answers.'

  'Now look here, Sean,' she stormed at him in a sudden burst of temper, 'this entire house may belong to you, but this happens to be my bedroom, and I want you to get out!'

  'Well, at last I'm getting a positive reaction instead of that calm acceptance you displayed downstairs,' he drawled as he got to his feet, and if her anger could have been charted, it would have started a steep climb at that precise moment.

  'What the hell do you want with me?' she demanded in a voice that shook with fury as he walked towards her. 'You accuse me of leading Michael on only to drop him later, you accuse me of being calculating and devious and of flaunting myself at unsuspecting males, and you give me a lengthy explanation as to why you consider me spoilt. You've sat in judgment on my character, and you've come up with the verdict, so what more do you want! Blood?'

  'I want you to defend yourself.'

  'Defend myself?' she almost shouted incredulously. 'Why should I want to defend myself when you've already decided what you choose to believe?'

  Sean hooked his thumbs into the belt hugging his black slacks to his lean hips, and there was something about his stance that was beginning to frighten her. 'During the past weeks at the office I've seen you fight for what you believe is right or wrong, but when it becomes a personal matter you shut up tighter than a clam, as if you're afraid to let anyone see the real you.'

  'I refuse to bare my soul to you or anyone else,' she said coldly, and his jaw hardened with anger.

  'I want the truth, Sarika!' he insisted, his eyes burning down into hers as if they wanted to drag the truth from her physically.

  'Why this sudden interest now?' she demanded sarcastically. 'Do you want the added satisfaction of calling me a liar?'

  'Sometimes, Sarika, you let your mask slip, and tonight was one of those rare instances.' He looked down into her pale face, his eyes probing hers relentlessly. 'Regardless of what you may think, I don't enjoy hurting you, but I admit that I have deliberately goaded you at times to get to the bottom of a mystery which has been puzzling me since the day I met you at the airport.'

  This unexpected revelation drained her of her anger, but it left her wary. There were certain things locked away inside her that she could never tell anyone. Least of all Sean. She did not want his sympathy, and she doubted if she would ever have his understanding.

  'There's no mystery that I know of,' she brushed aside his statement, but she could no longer sustain his glance for fear of what he might see.

  'We'll let that pass for the moment,' he said abruptly, 'but tell me about the time you wanted to drop out of university.'

  Sarika felt her legs trembling beneath her, and an overwhelming tiredness made her step back and sit down heavily on the bed. 'I never wanted to drop out of university,' the confession was dragged from her. 'I had every intention of completing my studies, but I'd become interested in fashion, and I fancied starting a boutique here in Bombay which would sell saris as well as the latest fashions. It was to be my first step towards becoming independent, and towards being accepted as someone in my own right. I asked my father to help me financially with the initial layout. It was to be a loan, but he refused his help, and that was the end of that dream.'

  'By that time, I guess, he wasn't in a financial position to help you.' Sean surprised her by accepting her explanation.

  'Perhaps,' she shrugged tiredly.

  'What's that supposed to mean?'

  A sudden wariness drove her to her feet and away from Sean to stand with her slim, straight back turned towards him. 'It means that perhaps my father was in financial difficulties at the time and didn't want to tell me about it, or…'

  'Go on!' insisted Sean, coming up behind her, and her fingers curled nervously into her palms.

  'My father was a man who thought only of himself, and the things that were of personal interest to him and my mother.' The truth was once again torn from her.

  'Ah, now we're getting somewhere.'

  'We're getting nowhere!' she snapped, angry with herself for having said so much, and intensely aware of Sean standing so close to her that she could almost feel the heat of his body against her back. 'As far as I'm concerned, the subject is closed.'

  'You're clamming up on me again, are you?' he accused with a hint of mockery in his voice.

  'I have nothing further to say.'

  'Sarika…' His hands rested on her shoulders, his fingers moving in a strong caress that seemed to massage the tension out o
f her rigid body, but he was creating a tension of a different nature when he drew her back against his hard body, and her senses responded to the low rumble of his voice close to her ear. 'Don't you trust me?'

  'I don't trust anyone,' she said stiffly, aware suddenly that she was wearing nothing but a flimsy nightdress beneath her thin silk robe, and the heat of Sean's body against her own was beginning to awaken emotions she had difficulty in suppressing.

  'You're afraid of getting hurt, is that it?'

  His accurate guess brought tears to her eyes, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat before she said thickly, 'I don't want to talk about it.'

  His fingers ceased their caress, and his hands tightened briefly on her shoulders before he turned her slowly to face him, but she kept her head lowered so that the thick veil of her hair hid those humiliating tears.

  'Who did this to you, honey?' Sean asked softly. 'Who hurt you so badly that you can't trust anyone?'

  Her body began to tremble beneath his hands, and she could not speak even if she had wanted to. His unexpected understanding and his gentleness were tearing away at her defensive barriers to be replaced by a weakness she knew she would despise herself for later.

  'You're not going to tell me, are you,' he said with keen perception, and she shook her head slowly.

  'No,' she managed, her voice cracking, and suddenly there was nothing she wanted more than to rest her head against his broad chest and to feel his strong arms supporting her.

  Oh, God, she was so vulnerable at that moment that she would have accepted anything from him. Even pity!

  His hands brushed her hair away from her face and tilted it up before she had time to blink away her tears. His features became blurred as he lowered his head to hers, and a faint gasp of surprise escaped her when she felt his lips brushing the tears from her eyes. Sean's breath was warm against her cheek, and there was the faint smell of the cheroots he always smoked before his mouth shifted over hers. Her lips parted beneath his in response, and a slow quivering warmth erupted inside her. His mouth moved against hers, savouring, exploring, and with a smothered little cry deep down in her throat she leaned weakly against him and slid her hands around his waist and up across his broad back to cling to his shoulders.

  The world stopped spinning on its axis, and time was measured in heartbeats as their kiss deepened with a passion that seemed to consume them both in its flames. Sarika's body was arched against Sean's, the muscled hardness of his thighs against her own, and her breasts hurting against his chest. She was beyond caring when he held her a little away from him to slide her robe and nightie off her shoulders. She was conscious only of his dark, smouldering eyes devouring her as her body was revealed to him.

  'God, Sarika, but you're beautiful!' he groaned, pulling her back into his arms, and desire instilled a certain roughness in his touch as he lowered his head to seek out the sensitive areas at the base of her throat and below her ear.

  His lips were like a sensual fire against her skin, arousing and exciting hidden little nerves until she shivered with pleasure, and his arms tightened about her, curving her soft, yielding body into his with an urgency that made her aware of a new tension in his hard, muscled frame. He wanted her. If there could never be anything else, then she could always remember that he wanted her at that moment as much as she wanted him, and a joyous sensation surged through her veins that left her weak with the force of it as he lifted her in his arms and carried her towards the bed.

  The sheets were cool and soft beneath her, but Sean's body was warm and hard above her as he sought her mouth with his and kissed her deeply and almost violently. Crazy with a burning desire to touch him as he was touching her, she tugged his sweat-shirt out of his belt, and he raised himself to peel it off and throw it aside. She caressed his hair-roughened chest, his wide shoulders, his back, her palms savouring the slight dampness of his skin stretched so tautly across the hardened muscles, and he lowered himself on to her with a shudder to bury his face against her throat. His hands cupped her small, firm breasts, his thumbs caressing the hardened nipples, and his touch sent a warm surge of desire rippling through her.

  'Oh, Sean!' she gasped as his mouth trailed down to her breast to continue the arousal his fingers had started, and her desire was almost a pain when he raised himself slightly to devour her once again with his eyes.

  A low animal-sounding growl passed his lips. 'My God, honey, I want you!'

  Her drugged mind issued a warning, but Sean had lowered his head, and the tip of his tongue was trailing lazy, sensual circles around her swollen nipple. Her breath came jerkily over her parted lips at the pleasure he was arousing, and that aching warmth spread like fire into the lower half of her taut body when he took the swollen peak into his warm, moist mouth.

  'Oh, God!' she moaned, desire shuddering through her, but there was no help from above as her desire mounted with each caress of that sensual mouth on her responsive flesh.

  He was arousing her to the point of pain, and her treacherous body was responding to the touch of his fingers as he trailed them across her smooth thigh, her flat stomach, and finally the most intimate part of her body. Her hands gripped his shoulders in a somewhat spasmodic action as a stab of intense pleasure shot through her. She wanted to push him away when he parted her legs with his thigh, and yet she could not, but her instincts warned against the outcome if she continued to allow such intimacies.

  I have to stop him! The thought screamed through her mind, and sanity was like an icy bath in England's winter.

  'Sean!' she cried his name, her hands pushing at his heavy body. 'Sean, I've never—'

  'Never what?' he demanded, his eyes narrowed and black with desire, and something in the way she looked at him must have given him the answer. 'My God, you're a virgin!'

  There was a hint of disgust in his incredulous voice, and Sarika cringed beneath his gaze, her face paling as he rolled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. His breathing was as laboured as her own, and she lay there staring at him with eyes that were dark with pain and the stormy emotions he had aroused.

  'Sean, I'm sorry,' she whispered huskily, her body aching for the fulfilment it was denied, and blaming herself for what had occurred. She reached out tentatively to touch his arm, but he jerked it away as if her touch repelled him.

  'For God's sake, why didn't you tell me!' His voice grated harshly against raw nerves, and his eyes blazed down into hers accusingly. 'Dammit, Sarika, if there's something I always swore never to do then it's to get involved with a virgin!'

  Sarika's icy body shivered uncontrollably when he got up, pulled on his sweat-shirt, and strode out of her room. She sat up slowly, staring at the door he had slammed behind him, and she hid her quivering mouth behind her fingers as hot, stinging tears filled her eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks. She tasted the salt of them in her mouth, and wished suddenly that she was dead. Sean was a man accustomed to taking his women to bed, and she knew now exactly what he thought of her. He had wanted her simply to add her name to the long list of women who had passed through his hands, while she had wanted him out of a desperate need born of love. She had been wrong to encourage him, and she blamed herself entirely, but how it had hurt to hear the disgust in his voice.

  If Sarika could have wished herself at the far ends of the earth during the next few days, then she would have done so. Sean had been in a foul and explosive mood since the Sunday night after he had stormed out of her room, and everyone in the office, including Sarika, felt as if they were treading on thin ice. Sarika especially suffered the brunt of his fury when he stormed into her office the Wednesday afternoon and slammed a file down on to her desk with a force that made her jump.

  'Explain this to me!' he thundered at her.

  She stared at the file, and she was reminded of the most unpleasant incident which had occurred during the week Sean had been away. 'It's the Lockwood file.'

  'Baby, I'm not blind!' roared Sean
, the veins standing out on his forehead, and his eyes darting flames of fury at her. 'What I want to know is why the contract was cancelled?'

  'Mr Lockwood is an objectionable slob who wouldn't stop pawing me when we met for lunch to discuss the plans for the extension to his business premises,' she explained with a calmness she dredged from somewhere. 'When I finally succeeded in bringing the conversation round to the plans, he had the gall to tell me he never discussed business with women, so I tore up his contract, dumped it in his dessert, and told him to take his business elsewhere.'

  'You did what?' Sean exploded, placing his hands on her desk and leaning towards her as if he wanted to demolish her with the black fury in his eyes. 'Do you know how much that contract was worth?'

  'I know it was worth a small fortune,' she said coldly, 'and you don't have to shout, I'm not deaf.'

  'God help me, I could—' His fingers groped in the air as if he was tempted to take her by the throat, then he lowered his hands and flicked the switch on her intercom system. 'Miranda, get me Lockwood on the line to Sarika's office, and it's urgent!' he snapped, flicking the switch back to its original position before Miranda could acknowledge his request.

  'You're surely not going to crawl to him?' Sarika exclaimed incredulously.

  'Business is business, lady, and if I have to crawl because of your damn stupidity, then I'll crawl.' The telephone rang loudly, and he snatched up the receiver. 'Yes? Put him on!' he barked into the instrument while his eyes on Sarika's white face continued their punishment. 'Lockwood?' he said a moment later. 'O'Connor here from Apex.'

  What followed was a rather one-sided conversation with Sean listening more often than participating. His dark brows were drawn together in a frown, and when he replaced the receiver he studied Sarika through narrowed eyes for several harrowing seconds.

  'What did he say?' she asked when she could no longer bear the tension of waiting and wondering.