by Helen Brooks
She had expected him to kiss her as soon as they were alone but he merely smiled carefully before walking through to the small bedroom and indicating her overnight case on the huge double bed. 'Would you like me to wait downstairs while you freshen up?' he asked quietly, his back towards her and his voice strangely thick.
'No, no, it's all right,' she said hastily. 'I'll just fix my hair and then we can go down. I won't be a minute.' Nerves made her all fingers and thumbs but just as she finished combing out her hair from the intricate style that the hairdresser had laboured over that morning, and which had been making her head ache for the last few hours, a light touch on her shoulder made her nearly jump out of her skin.
'Dammit, Katie!' Carlton had jumped too at her reaction and now she saw, in the reflection in the dressing-table mirror, that his face was dark with rage. 'What the hell do you think I'm going to do to you? Leap on you at the first opportunity and rip off all your clothes? Credit me with a little finesse at least.'
'I'm sorry.' She rose and turned from the stool where she had been sitting as she spoke, her cheeks pink. 'I'm just tired, I think; it's been a hectic day. I didn't mean…' Her voice dwindled away as she strove to bite back the hot tears at the back of her eyes.
This was awful; everything was awful. Why couldn't he love her? Thousands and millions of really plain women were loved. Was she so unlovable? Couldn't he see the real person under the skin he seemed to desire so much? Why did there have to be a Maisie?
'Don't cry. I can just about stand this if you don't cry,' he said thickly as he reached out and pulled her roughly into his arms, holding her against his chest, for a long moment before pushing her away and placing a small box in her hand. 'I just wanted to give you this.' His face seemed to hold a wealth of pain. 'A wedding-gift.'
'But you've paid out so much for me already,' she murmured, meaning nothing beyond that she was grateful for all he'd done for her father, but even as she lifted the lid to the box her eyes still held his and she saw that he had misconstrued her words.
'You're never going to let me forget it, are you?' he ground out savagely through clenched teeth. 'Even though you know how I feel there's going to be no lowering of the drawbridge, dammit.'
How he felt? How did what he felt alter anything? she thought dazedly before she glanced down at the exquisite dark gold locket that the box held, a work of art in intricate, fine, worked gold and delicate engraving that was truly magnificent. 'It was my grandmother's,' Carlton said quietly, his voice smooth and controlled again. 'Open it.'
She flicked the tiny little catch and then froze, staring down at the tiny pictures either side of the hinge. Her mother's face smiled back at her, the minute photograph beautifully sharp and clear, and on the other side her father had his customary scowl which appeared whenever he looked into a camera. She continued staring down at her mother's face, at the photograph she had never seen before and hadn't known existed, as burning tears began to flood down her cheeks and shake her body.
'Katie, Katie, Katie… Don't. Don't feel so intensely; don't hurt so much…' And then she was in his arms again but this time she raised her head to his, searching for his lips, his gesture concerning her mother's picture cutting through all the hurt and pain he had inflicted, was still inflicting, and would continue to inflict. 'Your father loves you, you know that, don't you?' he murmured, still not taking her lips although she strained up to him, her eyes liquid.
'I know.' As she pulled his head down there was a brilliant heat in his eyes and then his lips met hers, his breath escaping in a deep groan of need. His arms tightened as he felt her response and then he was raining burning kisses over her face, her throat, her closed eyelids, his breathing harsh and ragged and his body taut and hard.
'Katie—' he raised his head, pushing her away slightly as he fought for control '—I can't—I've waited so long. You don't understand what you do to me. If we don't stop now I shall take you, and your chance for dinner will be gone.'
It was a poor attempt to lighten the situation but she had felt the trembling in his body, sensed the desperate waiting in him, and her love for him filled her with a crazy kind of exhilaration that she could affect him so badly. But his desire wasn't love. The thought didn't have the power to stop her lifting up her arms towards him. Her love would have to be enough for them both.
'Katie…' He breathed her name with a soft groan. 'Don't say I didn't warn you; I want to eat you alive…' She smiled, a wild excitement at the knowledge of her power over this hard, fierce man giving her face a primitive sensuality that made his breath catch in his throat.
'I was going to wine and dine you, coax you—'
'Well, coax me, then.' Her voice snapped the last shred of his control and he pulled her into him desperately, moulding her against the length of him, his arousal hot and fierce as his hands explored the length of her. She was hardly aware of her dress sliding to the floor but when her bra followed and he knelt before her, his mouth erotic on her full, taut breasts, she moaned softly, her fingers entwining in the short, crisp black hair of his head as she trembled and shook.
'I told you how it would be between us…' As he rose, lifting her into his arms and carrying her across to the massive bed, she felt a moment's sadness at his whispered words. Yes, he had told her. Told her that their bodies would be good together, that they would be… What had he said? Oh, yes, 'compatible'.
What would he say if she told him it was her love that made her flower at his touch, her love that had evoked a raging thirst for them to become as one? But he must never know. That humiliation, more than any other, would be too much to bear.
He undressed quickly, his eyes never leaving hers as he drank his fill of her, lying pale and trembling in the dusk-filled room, and then he was beside her. His hands removed the last barrier between them, sliding her pants down her legs slowly as he kissed their path with warm, searching lips, and she was unable to stop the shivers of desire shaking her limbs. His body was strong and hard as he took her in his arms again, the feel of his nakedness strange and thrilling even as its alien ability frightened her. She wasn't ready for this… His maleness was too fierce, too powerful…
'Relax, my sweet darling, relax…' He had sensed the sudden surge of fear at the unknown and his voice was soft and tender against her mouth. 'We have all the time in the world.'
And slowly, surely, he fed her desire with lips that blazed fire over every part of her body as she lay helpless and warm in his embraces, his mouth and hands hungry and sensual, cajoling an aching pleasure that was almost pain until she found herself arching and pleading for a release from the sweet, subtle torment. His lips were demanding as they found and explored all her secret places, the fire that was consuming her burning away any shred of shyness or fear.
And as his hands lifted her hips to meet his body he still continued to ravage her mouth, catching the gasp of fleeting pain as he possessed her fully and kissing away the brief moment of panic with deep, tender kisses until she began to move in rhythm with his maleness, a shuddering ecstasy rippling over her being in greater and greater intensity until it seemed as though she was on fire.
'You are mine, fully mine,' he groaned harshly as he took her with him to the heights that were filled with blinding colour and light, the world exploding into a million glittering pieces that were piercing and hot against her closed eyes.
'Have I hurt you?' His voice was thick and warm with a rueful tenderness as she stirred beneath him, her senses slowly returning as he moved off her and drew her into his side. 'I had promised myself that I would be patient, restrained, that tonight I would let you sleep so that you would be ready to accept my advances tomorrow in the security and warmth of our villa in Spain.'
'Our villa'? Somehow those two words meant more than the physical act of possession in all its intimacy. She was his wife. He had told her that she would be his wife in the full sense of the word, that their lives would be intrinsically linked from this point, and she believ
ed him; she did.
And with such closeness, such familiarity, surely that other love would cease to keep its hold on his mind and his heart? He had promised her that there would be no other women and she knew he believed that was enough but she wanted more than a commitment of bodily faithfulness— she wanted his heart too.
'Katie?' He rose slightly on one elbow to look into her flushed face and she knew in that instant that she must be patient He wanted her physically; he had shown her tonight that he was capable of tenderness and understanding even in his overwhelming need of her body. From that she would have to cultivate the first seeds of love.
'Yes, you hurt me.' She slanted her eyes at him in mock-severity even as she wanted to reach up and pull his face to hers, to kiss his mouth without passion getting in the way, to trace each line and contour of his hard face with her lips. 'But I forgive you.'
'You do?' He smiled down at her, his eyes lazy as they stroked over her naked body. 'Well, that's a good omen for the future, wouldn't you say?' There was some inflexion, just a shred of emotion she couldn't quite place, in his voice, but she could read nothing from his face and decided she must have imagined it.
'Maybe.' She smiled up at him as he brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek with one finger. She must keep this relaxed and easy; she was feeling too vulnerable for any deep talking, too exposed and close to tears.
'No, not 'maybe'.' His eyes darkened as he let his finger trail down the length of her body. 'You are mine now, completely and utterly. You belong to me. You made it clear last night that you don't want to talk about how I feel but surely you can see that we need to discuss things? Our future is bound up together, Katie, you can't deny that, and after what we just shared—'
'Please.' She shook her head as she went to move from his side and in the same instant he pulled her back against him, his face suddenly still as his eyes travelled over her troubled face.
'No, don't turn away from me,' he said huskily.
'Can we just take things a day at a time?' she asked weakly as his power over her swamped her afresh. She couldn't, she just couldn't listen to any explanations about Maisie now; even if he didn't put a name to his love she would know whom he was talking about.
He had made it clear at the start why he was marrying her. In that she had no reason to complain. He had laid it fair and square on the line and she had walked into this with her eyes open but… But it hurt like hell.
She didn't want to listen to a reiteration of his promise of physical faithfulness, not now, not when the need for reassurance was so strong that she could taste it. He was a possessive, ruthless and hard man. What he had he kept and he didn't share. She knew that. And as his wife, the vehicle by which his future heir would be born, she was of more value than anything else he possessed.
'Go to sleep, Katie.' His voice was quiet and flat but his arms were gentle as he drew her into him, stroking her hair softly as they lay together in the gathering darkness until the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart finder her cheek sent her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
She had never seen anything more beautiful than the area of Northern Spain where Carlton's villa was situated.
They left the hotel early the next morning after a huge breakfast and she found herself painfully tongue-tied in the cold light of day when she remembered the intimacies of the night before, although Carlton chatted with an ease that gradually relaxed her taut muscles and freed her tongue.
The plane flight was uneventful and when they landed at the Spanish airport the usual formalities were dealt with quickly and efficiently. As they left the terminal, stepping into the brilliant heat beyond the air-conditioned building, Carlton guided her over to a powerful, low-slung sports car parked in a reserved spot just outside the massive doors.
'Is this yours?' she asked in surprise as he extracted a key from his pocket and opened the back of the car, slinging their cases into the area beyond.
'Uh-huh.' He moved round to open her door, his eyes narrowed against the piercing quality of the light 'I keep it garaged in the town here and have it brought to the airport when I arrive.'
'Oh, right.' The power of money, she thought to herself as she slid into the luxurious seat and watched him walk round to the driver's side. His wealth seemed to open magic doors, smooth all the normal little irritating difficulties of life clean away. 'That's very convenient,' she added as he slid into the seat beside her and started the engine, which responded immediately.
'Yes, it is.' He extracted two pairs of sunglasses from the front of the car and handed one to her with a smile, the lazy warmth of which took her breath away. As he slipped his own pair on, and his eyes were masked from her gaze, she thought again of the things his mouth and hands had done to her the night before and found her cheeks were burning as she remembered the majestic power of the big male body sitting next to her. She felt vulnerable, helpless, but also more feminine than she had ever done in her life, as well as wonderfully, vitally alive.
They travelled through the town nearest to the airport, and out on a long, winding road the other side, and Katie was spellbound by the intensity of colour in all that she saw: villages of golden stone perched amid pine-clad hills, tall towers of brown churches in the distance with great bells outlined against the startling blue sky, fields of almond, olive, lemon and orange trees shimmering gently in the midday sun and glimpses of picturesque fishing harbours and fine golden beaches set in secluded bays on either side of rocky headlands.
They passed small whitewashed houses set among orange and lemon groves with flowered, walled gardens adjoining the orchards, and several villages where the houses had balconies of wood or iron covered in scarlet geraniums, pink begonias and trailing purple and red bougainvillaea which were a blaze of colour against the whitewashed walls.
'Magnificent, isn't it?' Carlton had been aware of her breathless appreciation of the dramatic scenery and now his voice held a note of indulgent, amused pleasure as she turned to face him, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling behind their protection of dark glass.
'It's just wonderful.' Her eyes studied the dark, impassive profile. 'How long have you had a villa here?'
'My parents bought it before I was born,' he answered quietly. 'My maternal grandmother was Spanish and although my mother was born in England the family were always visiting their relatives over here. Most of them are scattered about the world now—Canada, England, France—but there are a few who still prefer the Spanish sun to any other.'
'I can see why,' she breathed softly as the car began to climb into the mountains. They had just passed a small village, where Katie had been enchanted to see an old brown donkey with a small barefoot child on its back in a square packed with market stalls overflowing with produce, when Carlton drove the powerful car through an open gateway set in a high, ancient wall and into a large garden bursting with trees and shrubs, before drawing to a halt in front of a shadow-blotched, rambling, hacienda-style villa.
'La Casa.' Carlton turned to her as he cut the engine and kissed her very thoroughly before leaving the car to open her door.
'La Casa?' She emerged pink and ruffled to stand beside him, conscious as ever of his great height and the restrained power in his lithe, impressive body.
'Home.' He smiled down at her, suddenly very foreign in the shimmering sunlight, his black hair and smoky grey eyes with their thick black lashes sending shivers down to her toes. 'My mother might have been English but in here—' he tapped his chest gently '—she was always Spanish. She loved it here. Every holiday I had from school, whatever time of the year, we would fly out to La Casa even if it was just for a few days.'
'My father rarely came—the businesses took up most of his time and attention—but we would content ourselves nevertheless. At first it was just the two of us but when Joe was born he loved it too.'
'I brought him out here after the accident once he was well enough to travel and it turned out to be wonderful therapy. He had been holdi
ng on to the past too hard. The last memory he had of my mother and father was their bodies after the crash, before he was cut free, and it was impeding his recovery. It took a few months but eventually La Casa helped him to remember them with more peace than pain.'
'La Casa and you,' she said softly, watching the play of emotions across the hard face. 'It was a terrible time for you too, wasn't it?'
He shrugged, turning away immediately, but she had seen the flash of raw pain in his face before he could speak. 'I survived.' His voice was dismissive, abrupt, but even as she shrank from the rebuff he turned back and touched her face with his hand. 'I'm sorry, Katie; I didn't mean…' He shook his head slowly as he held her hazel eyes with his own. 'I don't find it easy to express my emotions; I never have.'
'You trust very few people,' she whispered softly, repeating the words that he had stated at their first meeting and which had stayed in her mind ever since. And it would appear that she wasn't one of them yet.
'You can't have it all ways.' He stared at her, his eyes very dark in the white light. 'You've made it clear what you want, or don't want, from me, and I'm doing my damnedest to play by the rules, but I can only be pushed so far, Katie. Even this block of stone has his limits.'
'I don't understand.' Her eyes were wide with hurt as she gazed into his face. What had she done now?
'No matter.' He shrugged and smiled and suddenly he was the Carlton of the night before and that morning, relaxed, easy, with a lazy charm that was fascinating. But that wasn't how he was really feeling. As she held his eyes one more moment before he moved to take her hand and lead her into the villa she knew her sixth sense was right He was playing a part, but why?
