She turned her face to glance over her shoulder at him, and her glossy dark hair shimmered and rippled in the soft light.
“Are you coming to bed?”
Stefan remained standing in the tiny living room, his feet rooted to the spot. He wiped the palm of his hand across his forehead, feeling unsteady, swaying slightly. There was no air in the room, and he felt lightheaded.
“I don’t think so,” he said. His speech was shaky and slurred. The punch of the alcohol began to hit him like a hammer. The sexual tension – the woman’s invitation and his uncertainty – made the space between them crackle.
Samantha turned back to him, thrust out one of her hips in a provocative stance. She folded her arms underneath her breasts, deliberately pushing them up so that Stefan could not ignore their shape. Her nipples were tiny, like perfect rosebuds.
“I want you,” Samantha said softly, but her tone determined. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met. I want to feel you on top of me. I want you inside me.” As she spoke the color of her nipples darkened, the skin around them puckering as they stiffened to erect aroused buds.
Stefan felt his own flesh harden, despite his reluctant uncertainty. Samantha saw the swell of his erection in his trousers and her gaze was shameless. She chuckled lightly. “You’re a man,” she said. “So take me like a man. No one need ever know. It will be a one-night stand we will always remember. Our little secret.” Her lips parted and she looked squarely into his eyes. Her breathing quickened.
Stefan took a single step towards her, and then stopped.
“No,” he said. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Samantha stepped close to him, her head lifted, and her lips were ripe and glossy. “You can,” she said. “Don’t listen to your head. Follow your instincts. I’m all yours – and you can do anything you want with me. Anything…”
Stefan heard the blood sounding in his ears as a roar. He screwed his eyes tightly shut and clenched his fists, teetering against the almost magnetic lure of the young woman’s overt sexuality.
Here was the escape he craved – the fleeting temporary respite from the pain that tore at his heart. Here was the chance to hide and dull his anguish, even for just a few short hours in blissful oblivion.
This was a chance to regain some control – to take this woman and bend her to his will and his needs; to command her to obey his every desire and re-create the illusion that he had control once more – that his life was in his hands and not resting in the reckless will of a God that seemed so cruel.
He made to reach for her, but at the last instant an image of Renee came swirling out of his inebriated haze. He stopped himself.
He had left Renee – and escaped to deal with his heartbreak. But was this the way?
He was already drowning in despair and guilt. In his own mind, it made rational sense, but to Renee it could only be betrayal, and he knew, with terrible aching guilt, that he had devastated some part of their marriage by abandoning her. Now he was uncertain, unsure about how much he had destroyed, and if it would ever be possible to explain, and for her to understand, or at lest accept.
Stefan knew he was standing at the very point of no return. If he gave in to the weakness of his temptation and the desperate need for solace, he would lose Renee forever.
Clarity came to him, stark and shocking.
This was not the way.
This was not the answer.
The respite could only ever be brief, and yet the consequences would be irreparable.
He shook his head, and his face turned to stone. “No.”
“Yes!” Samantha insisted. She moved quickly, crushing herself against his hard body, flattening the warmth of her breasts against his chest and the hollow between her thighs against the thick swell of his hardness. There was a fierce intense passion blazing in her eyes and her hands went up to bury themselves in the thick hair at the back of his head. She pulled Stefan’s face down and her mouth opened hot and slippery across his lips as she arched her back and groaned. Her hips bucked frantically against him, grinding.
For a brief startled moment, Stefan stood locked within her embrace, then tore himself free.
“I said no!” Stefan pushed her from him. He was much taller and stronger, but Samantha was inflamed with desperate confused passion and determination. She fought her way back against him, reaching out for his trousers, her eyes wild and reckless.
“You won’t regret it. Just one night. You can’t leave me like this, damn you! I’ve thrown myself at you, you bastard! You can’t walk away now.” Her voice rose, becoming breathless as Stefan tried to fend her away. She was trembling.
“Get away!” Stefan grabbed Samantha’s shoulders and pushed her. Her back hit the wall, and the sudden impact seemed to shake her senses. She stopped cold, staring at him in terrible confusion and disbelief. Her breathing was ragged, the shape of her breasts rising and falling.
“I don’t want this,” Stefan said, his anger rising so that his voice cracked like a whip. “I don’t want you.” His eyes flashed cold and black. His lips drew into a thin grim line, and the rims of his nostrils flared and turned white.
“Why?” Samantha groaned softly. “What’s wrong with me? What more could a man want?” Her hands tightened into frustrated fists. “Do you want me to beg you, is that it? Is that how you get yourself off?”
Stefan crossed to where she stood. He grabbed her shoulders and pinned the girl against the wall. “I’m in love,” he said through gritted teeth. “This is a mistake. I don’t want it.”
Their faces were close. Samantha saw the dark sudden glitter of disgust and loathing in his eyes and her own anger flared. She lashed out at him with her hand, her nails like a claw as she tried to gouge at Stefan’s cheek. He pulled back just in time, his head rearing away and tensing. He squeezed Samantha’s shoulder until her face twisted in burning pain. She went suddenly weak, still shaking her head in confusion and disbelief, the spark of her outrage flickering out at last.
She slumped against the wall. Stefan felt the tension slide from her body. He let go of her shoulders cautiously and stepped away. Samantha glared at him for long seconds, then she turned and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut with enough violence to lift a framed print off the wall and send it crashing to the floor.
Stefan sighed. He felt himself swaying. He slumped down onto the sofa and hung his head in his hands.
Sixteen.
Renee Stared at doctor Raynor, and her gaze was icy with defiance.
“I want to go home.”
The doctor shook his head. “I can’t recommend that course of action,” he said. “It’s only been twenty-four hours.”
Renee folded her arms. “You told me last night that all the tests came back negative. No broken bones.”
Doctor Raynor nodded reluctantly. “Yes…” he admitted. “But you have been through a terrible ordeal. You need to give yourself time to heal. The last thing you want to do is rush your recovery. And I’m not just talking about the physical trauma, Mrs Blake. There are emotional issues that you need to be prepared for – feelings that you and your husband are going to need to deal with. That’s why you need to be patient. I’d like a counselor to come to you and have a chat. We have a lady at the hospital who is very good. I’ve arranged for her to visit you tomorrow.”
“I won’t be here,” Renee said flatly. “If you won’t release me, I’ll check myself out. Either way, I am going home.”
Doctor Raynor sighed. He dragged a chair across to Renee’s bed and sat down wearily. He was a good man. Renee liked him. He seemed genuinely compassionate. He cleared his throat but it was a long time before he spoke, and when he did his voice was low and almost secretive.
“My wife lost a child,” he admitted, and a shadow of pain passed behind his eyes. “She was twenty-one weeks pregnant…” his voice tailed off. Renee sensed there was much more he wanted to say, but he stopped himself and shook his head sadly. When he looked at
Renee again there was a glisten of tears in his eyes. “Just… just give yourself time,” he offered. “It’s not easy. It’s going to be very hard on you and your husband for a long time. You don’t need to pretend to be strong, Mrs Blake. It only covers the wounds – it doesn’t heal them. Don’t hide your emotions from friends and family around you. Be willing to open up… it helps with the healing.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Renee felt a wave of sadness crest and hang suspended, about to break over her and sweep her away into a torrent of despair. She closed her eyes and steeled herself, fending off the sensations with a tremendous thrust of determination.
The Doctor rose from the chair slowly, and there was a sense of sudden sadness and weariness in the way he stood. He reached out for Renee’s hand resting on top of the sheet and squeezed it gently.
“I’ll get the discharge papers ready.”
He made to move towards the door but Renee held his hand. “Have… have there been any calls for me?”
Doctor Raynor considered her carefully. “Only from the couple that were here early last night,” he said. “I spoke at length to the young lady who visited you. She has called every few hours.”
“Anyone else…?”
The doctor shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. He hasn’t called.”
Renee’s eyes flashed guiltily. He knew. He knew she had been praying for a call from Stefan, and that her fears and worries for his safety were the real reason why she was checking herself out of his care. He had seen the phone records for her room and noted the string of unanswered calls to her home address.
Renee sighed.
* * *
The orderly insisted on taking her through the front doors of the hospital in a wheelchair towards the waiting cab. Renee eased herself into the back seat and sat, pale and grim-faced. The drive back to the estate seemed to take an eternity. Renee felt the strain like a terrible tension, drawing every nerve and fiber in her body impossibly tight until she could feel herself shaking.
Hold on! Just a little longer. Keep it together…
Once inside the front door, Renee slumped down to the ground, and let the feelings and the terrible anguish surge up and over her at last. The house was empty. Stefan was not waiting for her.
Feeling beaten and exhausted, she began to cry – huge heavy tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was alone and vulnerable as she had never been in her life before.
Her shoulders began to shake and she felt the dam of her distress finally crack open, the tears welling within her and bursting in an uncontrollable outpouring that she had fought so hard to restrain for too long. She tried to hold them back – she tried to stay brave – but they burned her eyes and she let them flow.
Renee curled up on the carpet amongst the wreckage of her life and wept until there was nothing left within her, and then, finally, she fell into a nightmared sleep of exhaustion and despair.
Seventeen.
When Stefan woke it took him long moments to come alert and realize he was slumped uncomfortably across the faded sofa of Samantha’s apartment. He sat up slowly and scraped his hands through his hair.
Late afternoon light was spilling through a window. He shook his head, dazed and alarmed that he had slept through the day. He hauled himself stiffly off the sofa and went across to Samantha’s bedroom. He pushed the door open silently.
She was lying naked across the rumpled sheets, one arm thrown over her face so that the shape of her breasts was pulled high and rounded. Her skin was tanned a soft honey brown. Her long dark hair was fanned out in a flurry across her face and the pillow. She was sound asleep, her legs splayed carelessly apart. There was a curious frowned expression on her face and her lips were formed into a silent pink pout. Stefan stared at the woman for long moments. She looked disquietingly young.
He pulled the bedroom door closed and left the apartment. His motel room was a few blocks away. He walked quickly, feeling the blood returning to stiffened limbs and cramped muscles. He walked with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his head bowed in the face of a harsh little wind that blew chill through the mountains.
Stefan went straight to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and showered, setting the hot water on high so that the stinging needles scalded away the feeling of being unclean. He turned his back to the water and let the steaming jets untie the knotted muscles in his shoulders and drum away his lingering sense of fatigue. He wrapped a towel around his waist, and was about to step from the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the steam-clouded mirror.
“Coward,” he whispered at the shadowy face that stared back at him. “You should have faced the pain. This wasn’t the answer.”
His face was all harsh gaunt angles beneath skin that was drawn tight across his features. His eyes looked dark and dull, with smears beneath each eye.
He had not shaven in two days. He ran his hand across his cheek, feeling the abrasion of the unshaven stubble. Then he caught the reeking whiff of cigarette smoke on his discarded clothes and instantly he was reminded again of the night he had spent in the young woman’s apartment.
He couldn’t stand to look at himself a moment longer.
He went to the mini-bar and poured a tumbler half-full of whisky. He drank quickly, then sank back down onto the narrow bed and closed his eyes.
He felt confused and unprepared, the edge of his mind dulled. Remorse and regret came in waves. He found it impossible to endure the relentless pound of dismay that flooded over him. He felt cold, numbed by the depth of his betrayal. A vivid image flashed across his closed eyes; the memory of the young woman standing naked and available to him in her panties, her lips wet and willing.
The image changed, growing dark and clouded until it was Renee’s face that swirled out of the blackness, the pain and sickened grief of her expression so frightening that he had to blink his eyes open to drive it from his mind.
He re-filled his glass and drank again. Then – mercifully – he drifted back to sleep.
* * *
Stefan awoke sitting upright in the bed just an hour later, a strangled cry of horror on his lips and his body hot with sweat. It took him minutes to steady the frantic race of his heart. He looked around the empty room quickly. Outside it was dark.
The half-empty bottle of whisky was standing on the bedside table. He looked at the temptation of it for a long moment – and then pushed himself angrily off the bed.
He went to the bathroom again and splashed cold water over his face. The lines of fatigue were still there, and the haunted look in his eyes might never go away. But now suddenly his jaw was hard-edged, his mouth firm and determined.
He went and stood back beside the bed. Next to the bottle of whisky was the telephone.
Stefan stared at them both, and then finally made his decision.
Eighteen.
“Could you put me through to room 103, please. I’m calling for Mrs Renee Blake. I’m her husband.”
There was a long pause on the line, a hum of static, and Stefan held the receiver to his ear impatiently. Finally the hospital receptionist came back onto the line, her voice distant. “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have a patient in room 103 at the moment.”
Stefan went silent for long seconds, at first his mind leaping to the most dreadful possibility….
“There was a doctor attending to my wife. His name was Rain… or something similar…”
“Raynor?”
“Yes! That’s him. May I speak to him, please?”
The nurse held this call and Stefan rose stiffly from the edge of the bed, pacing back and forth on the short cord of the phone. Finally a man’s voice came on the line.
“This is doctor Raynor.”
“Doctor. It’s Stefan Blake. My wife Renee was admitted about thirty hours ago. She was in a motor vehicle accident…”
“Yes. Mr Blake.”
“Can I talk to her?”
The doctor’s voice took on a firm edge. �
�She checked herself out, Mr Blake. She’s no longer a patient. Against my advice she went home about an hour ago.”
* * *
The phone rang once, the sound shrill and demandingly loud. Renee flinched awake, instantly alert, but her body was pained and heavy. She leaned against the wall and clambered stiffly to her feet. The phone rang again and again.
It was dark in the house. Renee flicked on a light in the living room and snatched up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Renee. It’s me.”
Her knees buckled underneath her and she had to clutch at the sofa to keep her feet.
“Renee? It’s Stefan.”
Slowly she opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. No sound at all. She felt her hand tighten around the receiver until her fingers hurt.
“Are you okay? Are you in the house alone?” A vivid image of Stefan’s handsome face came into her mind, every detail of his dark glittering eyes, his serious, sensual mouth, and the determined thrust of his jaw clear in her mind. The sound of his voice sent small shivers down her spine.
“Renee.”
“Where have you been, Stefan?” she asked softly, and the silence on the line lasted a long time. Renee pressed the phone tightly against her ear, and the silence went on, the only sound the rapid thump of her heart. It was a guilty silence.
Her Master's Kiss 4 (Erotic Romance) Page 6
