She might not be supposed to have these sort of thoughts, but that didn’t stop them tormenting her anyway!
Gail was an attractive blonde, involved in the same profession as Jake himself, and so the two of them would have a lot in common—amateur dramatics surely didn’t count as that!—and Fin knew that Gail thought nothing of indulging in a physical relationship with a man she was attracted to, whereas Fin— She broke off these tortuous thoughts once again; she might be attracted to Jake, but she was going out with Derek! That had to count for more than a fleeting, dangerously impetuous attraction towards a man who was likely to have left here in a matter of weeks to return to the glittering world of films he should obviously never have left in the first place.
To her dismay, Jake was just climbing out of the Jaguar when she went out on to the driveway to get in the van and leave. Colour brightened her cheeks as she saw him so soon after her so disturbing thoughts minutes ago.
He straightened, holding a large carton of strawberries in one hand. ‘You aren’t leaving already?’ He frowned as he realised that that was exactly what she had been about to do.
‘I’ve been here over an hour,’ she defended. ‘Plenty of time to have tidied up, I can assure you.’
Jake strolled towards her, his masculinity a tangible thing in snug-fitting denims and a loose black short-sleeved shirt. He seemed to wear the austere colour rather a lot, but maybe it was indicative of his mood the majority of the time! Although he looked cheerful enough today. Dangerously so …
‘I was expressing disappointment if that was the case, Fin, not criticism,’ he told her softly, his gaze searching on her flushed face as he stood only inches away from her now, looking down at her.
She swallowed hard, inwardly chivvying herself not to be fooled by the seductive persuasion in his voice. This man’s moods were mercurial, completely unfathomable; one moment he was confiding his innermost torments to her, and the next he was berating her for … He was just impossible for her to understand!
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘But I really have finished tidying the cottage, and now I have to go—’
‘Why?’ Jake cut in softly.
She looked at him sharply. He certainly looked more relaxed today, almost as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Maybe he had come to a decision about directing the film? Which meant he would be leaving here soon, very soon …
‘I have to go home and learn my lines,’ she told him abruptly. ‘My director is very strict about the cast knowing their lines,’ she added pointedly; he had snapped at all of them the night before about not being fast enough with their dialogue.
His mouth twisted at the taunt, his brows raised. ‘As I recall, you always carry your script about with you.’
Her resolve tightened as she remembered his savage reaction to his initial realisation that she was in the play at all. ‘Not any more,’ she bit out tautly.
Jake shook his head. ‘You know your lines.’
‘My moves, then—’
‘They’re fine too,’ he put in firmly.
Her eyes widened. ‘But last night—’
‘Fin,’ he began softly, ‘last night was last night. And today is today,’ he added huskily. ‘Last night I was your director. Today I’m your—’ he paused, eyes deeply aqua ‘—friend,’ he finished gruffly. ‘Never confuse the two,’ he advised lightly.
Fin frowned her puzzlement. ‘Are you saying you don’t?’ That would certainly go part-way to explaining his differing changes of mood!
‘Not any more!’ he rasped harshly, all teasing gone from his deeply etched face. ‘I allowed a personal relationship to interfere with my professional integrity once before, and I swore I would never let it happen again.’ He looked grim at the memory.
His marriage could surely be called a little more than a ‘personal relationship’, Fin mused dazedly, for that must be the time he was talking about?
She remembered reading in one of the magazine articles she had at home that the film they had been making was the first time the husband and wife had worked together, and what a tragedy it had been that the film was never completed with their involvement; in true Hollywood tradition, the film had gone on to be made again, with a new director and male and female stars. It had been a big hit with the box-office, if not the critics, evidence that the general public took a macabre delight in imagining how the original stars would have looked. The re-filmed version had even been on television several times during the last few years, but Fin had never been able to bring herself to watch it. She couldn’t help wondering if Jake ever had …
‘Look,’ Jake continued on a lighter note, holding up the punnet he held in his hand, ‘I bought us some strawberries. And there’s some ice-cream in the fridge, too,’ he added temptingly.
‘Bought “us” some strawberries?’ She sounded sceptical about the probability of this claim, wondering if this was just another of those occasions when he didn’t feel like being alone. Although she had to admit that he seemed more than cheerful enough, and it was rather a big punnet of strawberries for just one person, so perhaps …
He shrugged dismissively. ‘I knew you were coming here today,’ he reminded. ‘And everyone likes strawberries and ice-cream. Don’t they?’ he enticed.
Fin had to admit that she was more than fond of the deliciously sweet-tasting fruit. But even so …
‘You, young lady,’ Jake tapped her lightly on the tip of her nose, ‘will have to learn to take constructive criticism—and that’s all last night was—without taking offence if you’re to survive in the world of acting, even amateur, at all,’ he chided lightly. ‘Now let’s go into the cottage and you can help me to wash these strawberries.’ He strode off purposefully in the direction of the cottage without even waiting to see if she followed him.
Because he was used to giving instructions and having them obeyed, Fin realised frustratedly as she stared after him.
But her reluctance to share the strawberries with him had nothing to do with his criticism of her acting during his role as director of the play; she just didn’t believe the comment he had made about her being in the pub before the rehearsal came under that heading, had felt it was much more personal than that, no matter what he might think to the contrary. Good God, she could just as easily have had a couple of glasses of wine with her evening meal at home before going to the rehearsal, and Jake would have known nothing about that! No, he had been being petty, she was sure of it, and she wasn’t comfortable with that.
Nevertheless, the strawberries and ice-cream beckoned through the open door of the cottage. And something else … Something she just dared not think about too deeply.
‘Do you like your sugar on them once they have been washed, or do you prefer to dip them?’ Jake asked without looking up as she entered the kitchen and he stood at the sink washing the strawberries under the running tap-water, putting the washed ones on a piece of paper towel to dry.
‘After the washing, if I’m to have ice-cream with them,’ Fin accepted, moving to get the bowls out of the cupboard and the ice-cream out of the freezer; after all, she had been checking on the cottage for months, so she knew where everything was.
It seemed just as natural, ten minutes later, to find herself sitting outside on the garden lounger that lay beside Jake’s, both of them indulging in a large bowl of strawberries and ice-cream!
Butterflies fluttered around them, bees buzzed from flower to flower, birds sang in the trees, and all of this beneath a gloriously clear blue sky. Almost like paradise. Except she wasn’t Eve—and Jake certainly wasn’t her Adam!
‘There’s nothing quite like a beautiful English summer’s day,’ Jake murmured softly, seeming to read her thoughts—or, at least, some of them!
He spoke wistfully, almost as if he was already preparing himself to say goodbye to the beauty of a lush green English summer to move to the humid heat of Los Angeles.
He would be returning to the world he rightly belonged to
. It would be better for everyone when he did!
Fin put her bowl down abruptly, even though there were still some strawberries and ice-cream left, the latter melting rapidly in the heat of the day. ‘I have to go,’ she told Jake curtly.
He raised dark brows at her bowl. ‘But you haven’t finished eating yet,’ he pointed out mildly.
Fin knew she couldn’t eat any more now, that to do so would probably choke her. She had just realised something so disastrous, so catastrophic, that she could hardly breathe. She had fallen in love with Jake Danvers!
Except that he wasn’t Jake Danvers, was he? He was Jacob Dalton, a man who, by his mere presence here, could shatter her mother’s happiness like glass.
Fin stared at him with wide green eyes, her freckles livid against the paleness of her cheeks. Madness. Utter, and complete, madness. And yet she knew that was exactly what had happened, that she had fallen in love with this man, so that the mere thought of his leaving here, and her never being able to see him again, filled her with a cavernous despair. She was such a contradiction of emotions inside, not wanting Jake to leave for her own sake, and yet knowing he had to for her mother’s.
‘I can’t eat any more,’ she told him truthfully, swallowing hard, swinging her legs down on to the ground, her legs long and tanned beneath white shorts matched with a white T-shirt. ‘I have to go,’ she added abruptly as she stood up. ‘I—I have to go and walk Fido.’ She thankfully latched on to this legitimate excuse to leave; Richard would be wondering what had happened to her today.
Jake frowned up at her as he still lay there. ‘Mind if I finish off your strawberries?’ He picked up her bowl and began to eat the red fruit when she made no reply. ‘Can’t someone else walk the dog while you relax for a few hours?’ He frowned.
Her mouth twisted wryly at the perfectly natural assumption he had made. ‘Fido is a cat. Don’t ask,’ she warned derisively as his brows were raised incredulously.
‘I don’t think I’d better,’ Jake grimaced. ‘I suppose it was only to be expected, with you being one of the “little people”, that you would have a cat with a name like Fido!’
‘He isn’t my cat!’ she protested laughingly. ‘I walk him for a friend. A client really,’ she frowned. ‘Who has since become a friend.’
‘I suppose she would have to have done really,’ Jake taunted. ‘With a cat called Fido, who needs to be taken for a walk, you would need all the friends you could get!’
Her tension of a few minutes ago was fading completely as this nonsensical conversation continued. It was almost as if— She frowned. ‘The owner is a he. And—’
‘Derek?’ Jake questioned sharply, getting to his feet too, his relaxed teasing having disappeared now as he looked almost predatory.
‘No—not Derek,’ she dismissed instantly, slightly dazed at his sudden change of mood. Yet again! ‘Richard is exactly what I said he was, a friend. I—believe his interest lies in a completely different direction,’ she dismissed.
‘Good.’ Jake nodded his satisfaction with that idea, steadily holding her gaze as he moved to stand in front of her.
Fin looked up at him apprehensively, fearful in case he should touch her after her so recent realisation of her feelings for him, still astonished at the enormity of the emotion she felt towards him. Love … She loved this man!
She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as his head began a slow descent towards hers, her breath catching raggedly in her throat as his face was only fractions of an inch away from hers, his tongue flicking out moistly over her lips, sending rivulets of sensation down her spine, her lips tingling from the caress as he raised his head slightly.
Aqua-coloured eyes met hers with open desire. ‘Ice-cream,’ he excused gruffly. ‘On your lips. I couldn’t resist.’
But he made no such excuse as his lips now moved to claim hers, his arms going firmly about the slenderness of her body, hands caressing her in restless need.
Their hunger was for something much more fundamental than strawberries and ice-cream now as their mouths fused together, desire flaring up and out of control, devouring, possessing, demanding fulfilment.
Jake’s hair felt soft and silky beneath her questing fingers as she pulled him down to her, her feet barely touching the grass now as Jake held her into the hardness of his body, raw energy claiming her in powerful demand, Fin clinging to his shoulders now, fiery passion turning her legs to jelly.
Her breasts were bare beneath the loose white T-shirt, the nipples hard and turgid as Jake pushed the material up out of his way and exposed her naked flesh to the moistness of his questing mouth and tongue, the hot lapping caress sending a warm rush of desire through her body to her thighs, an ache that made her groan with need.
Jake lay her gently down on the green grass before joining her there, his eyes dark with passion as he looked down on her loveliness, the naked beauty of her breasts, his gaze heatedly holding hers as his lips once again claimed the sensitivity of one hard, thrusting nipple, his tongue a rasping caress.
It was the most erotic experience Fin had ever known, watching Jake watching her as she instinctively reacted to the moist caress!
Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing shallow, every part of her body feeling as if it were on fire. She wanted to cry out, to scream and shout, tell Jake of her deepest needs.
But he already knew them, his lips trailing a path of desire across her ribs, over her stomach, his hands on the single-button fastening of her shorts even as Fin arched up against him.
A ringing telephone, she learnt at that moment, a persistently ringing telephone, could become the most hated object in the world!
Because ring it did. Ring, after ring, after ring, the sound reaching them intrusively from inside the cottage, Jake having left the door open in the heat of the day. Maybe if he hadn’t they wouldn’t have heard the ringing of the telephone, wouldn’t have tried to ignore it—and failed!
‘Damn!’ Jake rasped savagely as he looked up at Fin regretfully. ‘I’ll have to go and answer it,’ he grated irritably, resentful of the intrusion.
‘Yes,’ Fin acknowledged with a sigh, her hair a blaze of red against the green of the grass as she still lay back against its coolness.
He got slowly to his feet, running a hand around the back of his neck where it was taut with tension. ‘I don’t suppose it would be any good my asking you not to move …?’ He grimaced even as he made the request.
He knew it was no good, knew the madness of the moment had passed. Just as she did. His gaze lingered regretfully on her nakedness for another second or two and then he turned and walked towards the cottage with determined steps, aggression in every taut line of his body.
Fin didn’t relish the chances of the person on the other end of that telephone call getting a polite response from Jake!
She could hear the harshness of his voice from inside the cottage even now as he finally answered the call, getting slowly to her feet, brushing the grass from her clothing. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful herself for the interruption.
If the telephone call hadn’t cut in on their passion she didn’t doubt for one moment that in a matter of minutes they would have been making love completely. It hadn’t been a conscious decision on Fin’s part, she just knew it had been inevitable; indeed, her body still ached from that unfulfilled desire. And she was sure Jake hadn’t fared much better from the encounter, had felt the throbbing need of his body as he’d lain so close to her.
But ultimately it would have changed nothing, achieved nothing, except to leave her with a yearning ache for something that could never be. Jake would be gone from here in a few weeks’ time at the most—she didn’t doubt, having come to know him as she did, that he would honour the commitment he had made to directing the play—and she would be left with … What would she be left with? Memories? God, that wasn’t enough when she loved him as much as she had realised she did!
He was gone some time answering the telephone cal
l, and Fin could no longer hear his voice, so he must have calmed down too. All of which gave her chance to gather her own scattered defences together. By the time Jake reappeared from the cottage five minutes or so later she could at least give the impression of being back in control—inwardly it was another matter completely!
Jake looked less grim too as he crossed the grass to her side. ‘That was David,’ he told her lightly. ‘Your stepfather,’ he enlightened as she still looked up at him in puzzlement.
David; she frowned. What on earth—? ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’ she suddenly panicked. ‘Mummy—’
‘Your mother is fine,’ Jake soothed, his expression one of indulgence at her concern. ‘No, it seems that David and your mother are arranging a little dinner party for later in the week to celebrate having the baby, and David wanted to invite me to join you all.’
No … Oh, God, no!
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN David had first made the suggestion the other evening of Jake’s coming to dinner one night Fin had felt herself panic slightly, but Jake’s reaction then had been so negative that she hadn’t given it another thought. And maybe she should have done, should have said something to David to head off such an invitation, because it was obvious now, from the pleased look on Jake’s face, that he had accepted the other man’s invitation!
Oh, God, she inwardly groaned again. What was she going to do now? What could she do?
Jake was watching her with narrowed eyes as he slowly became aware of the fact that she had made no response—no verbal one, at least. It was obvious, as the warmth faded from his expression and his mouth tightened, that he could read plenty from her face. ‘You don’t want me to go,’ he stated flatly.
She swallowed hard at the accusation. ‘It isn’t a question of wanting—’
Private Lives Page 12
