He nodded, then shot a look past her into the hall. ‘Are you sure you can deal with him? I’ll sit in my car, if you like, until he goes.’
‘There’s no need, Tom. I’ll be okay.’
He shrugged, smoothing down his fair hair. ‘Very well, if you’re sure. But don’t let him talk you into seeing him again.’
‘I won’t, don’t worry.’
Tom bent and kissed her lightly on her lips, said huskily, ‘I’m going to miss you.’ Then he walked away, got into his car, and drove off.
Sighing, Pippa slowly closed the front door and turned back, starting as she found Randal only a few feet behind her, his graceful body leaning against the wall in a casual manner which did not, disguise his poised capacity to be difficult.
‘Were you eavesdropping?’ she angrily demanded.
He raised one brow mockingly. ‘I wanted to make sure he left without making any more trouble.’
‘It was you who made the trouble!’ She opened the front door again. ‘Now, will you go, please?’
He sauntered back towards the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, ‘Not yet.’
She let the door slam again and ran after him. ‘I don’t want you here! We’ve got nothing to say to each other. We’ve said it all.’
He swung, and the tension in his long, powerful body sent her heart into her throat. ‘I haven’t. Why did you let him kiss you?’
‘I didn’t let him. It just happened! But it’s not your business, anyway.’
‘Oh, yes, it is,’ he said, and she looked up again to find his grey eyes focused on her mouth with an intensity that made her pulses race.
She didn’t want to respond like that. She wanted him to go away and leave her alone. But when he looked at her with such desire she felt her own passion leap up to meet his, and that terrified her.
‘Leave me alone!’ she whispered, her heart beating worryingly fast.
He pushed the chair aside and took her shoulders in his strong, supple hands. ‘You belong to me, Pippa, you know that, even though you keep trying to pretend you don’t. From the minute we met we both knew we were meant for each other. If I’d been free then, we’d have been together all these years, but by bad luck I wasn’t free, so you ran away, and you’re still running. Why?’
‘I told you. You’ve ruined my life twice—I’m not going to let you do it again!’
‘You love me,’ he whispered, his hand going down to her waist, pulling her closer. ‘I love you, too. Stop wasting any more of our time.’ His cheek descended against her face, their skin brushing softly. She wanted to resist, push him away, but she was paralysed, her whole being intent on her awareness of his heart beating against her own, his arm round her waist, his thigh pressing into hers, his mouth sliding over her cheek to her mouth. However hard she tried, she could not fight his physical power over her.
His kiss parted her lips. The warm tip of his tongue slid through into her mouth, his other hand went up the back of her head and cradled it, his fingers in her hair, softly pulling her head back as his kiss drove into her.
‘No, don’t,’ she muttered under that fierce, possessive mouth.
He kissed her harder, more demandingly, and she groaned, her lips trembling, burning. Eyes shut, she clung to him in spite of her warning brain, in spite of all her reasons for fighting him off. It was the same every time—the instant he touched her she melted like candle wax in his hands.
Suddenly, she was floating, like a leaf in the wind. She fought to force her eyes open, dazedly looked up at him, her body still shuddering with pleasure. He had picked her up bodily and was carrying her in his arms, a hand under her legs, the other around her shoulders.
‘What…what are you doing?’ she whispered, but he didn’t answer.
She found out what his intentions were a second later as he lowered her to the couch in the sitting room. Angrily, she tried to get up again, but he was beside her, fencing her in, a little heap of cushions behind her and his long, lean body stretching out in front.
‘I hate you!’ she breathed, trembling with an explosive mixture of rage and helpless desire. He was dangerously close, their bodies touching at every point from her shoulders to her feet, and she was on fire, wanting him so much it felt like dying. Yet at the same time a warning voice inside her head told her it was dangerous, lethal; he would only hurt her again. She must not let herself surrender.
‘Do you, Pippa?’ he asked silkily, smiling as he stared down into her bitter green eyes.
‘Yes! I hate the sight of you,’ she insisted, staring back at him with such fixed intensity that for a moment she wasn’t even conscious of what his lean fingers were doing, until she abruptly realised he had pushed up her turquoise sweater and undone her bra, and begun stroking and caressing her naked breasts.
Her heart thudded against her ribcage; she gasped, ‘No! Stop that!’
Randal’s head came down; his lips opened on one of her hot, swollen nipples, drew it inside the moist warmth of his mouth, and sucked.
Pippa moaned, pushing at his head, but it was immovable and she was helpless in the grip of pleasure. Her body was arching towards his, even while she tried to push him off. She despised herself for finding it impossible to resist him, but the ecstasy of his sucking mouth made her ache and shudder. She wanted him badly, badly. It would be so easy to give in, open her body to him and hold him inside herself, merge with him until they were one person, even if it was just for a few moments.
But the instant satisfaction he could give her wouldn’t last; she would come out of it and have to face herself afterwards. This need she felt was purely physical, sheer sensuality, a wild, beating urge deep in her body. Her mind warned her not to give in to it.
‘I’m not sleeping with you!’ she broke out, struggling.
His head lifted, his face darkly flushed, his eyes sensuous, drowsy. A wry smile curled his mouth. ‘Stop fighting the way you feel, Pippa. You want me to make love to you, even if you’re determined to insist you don’t.’
He looked down at her body again, bent and ran the tip of his warm tongue softly over the nipple he had been sucking, and she couldn’t keep back a cry of intense pleasure.
‘You see?’ he said. ‘You want it, just as much as I do. What I don’t understand is why you keep protesting that you don’t.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘YES, okay,’ she broke out hoarsely. ‘I go out of my head when you make love to me. I don’t deny it.’ Angrily, she saw him smile, his grey eyes glittering in triumph, and went on in a hurry, ‘But I still don’t want to get involved with you again. Last time I got hurt and I don’t want to get hurt again. I keep telling you that. Why can’t you get the point?’
He grimaced impatiently. ‘Not again! We keep having the same circular argument! But if you insist, we’ll go round again. Sooner or later maybe I’ll make you listen. Four years ago, I was married. Now I’m free. We both know that. I’m in love with you, I want you, you just admitted you feel the same—so where’s the problem?’
While he was talking in that brusque, impatient tone, she was discreetly clipping her bra together again, pulling down her sweater, smoothing her tangled chestnut hair. When he’d finished, she got up in a quick movement, before he could stop her, walked to the window, stood there with her back to him, speaking quietly. ‘The problem is simple, Randal. I don’t want to get hurt again. You know I was abandoned as a child—four years ago I felt I was being dumped again, when you chose your marriage and your child over me.’
He started to protest. ‘For heaven’s sake! What else could I do? He was only little; I couldn’t walk out on him…’
She interrupted. ‘Randal, listen! I’m not saying you were wrong. I understand. Your little boy needed you and had the right to expect that you would be there for him, protect him, make sure he was happy.’
‘I’m his father; I had to look after him. Renata was far too selfish to bother about a child, even her own. All she wanted was to have a good tim
e, and looking after a little boy didn’t come into her scheme of things.’
‘I know Johnny needed you to take care of him. I see that. I know you had no real choice. You felt you had to stay with your wife for his sake. But that doesn’t change the fact that I felt you didn’t really care about me. And, however good your reasons, I want a man who’ll really care about me.’
He got up from the couch impatiently, his voice rising. ‘Of course I cared about you, Pippa! How can you think I didn’t? It was a terrible choice I was forced to make! Do you think I found it easy? I agonised over it for a long time.’
She swung round to face him, her face pale and grave. ‘I just said, I know why you had to put your son first. But understanding doesn’t alter anything. When it came to it, you chose your marriage and your child, not me, and I know you always would.’
He ran his hands through his hair in restless frustration. ‘I had to then! What else could I do? You keep saying you understand, but do you? I had to choose Johnny four years ago, but it’s different now. Everything’s sorted. My marriage is legally over. Johnny’s at boarding school. I’ve had a private detective looking for you ever since my divorce was finalised. You’ve been on my mind all this time. I love you, Pippa, and now we can get married. There’s nothing in the way of us being together.’
‘There’s me, Randal.’
He stopped a few feet away and stared at her, eyes glittering, sharp, probing her face. ‘What does that mean?’
‘I won’t let it happen to me again. I know now that you’ll always put your son first and me second.’
‘Pippa, it isn’t a contest. You’re being ridiculous! You sound as if you’re jealous of Johnny, jealous of a little boy; that’s crazy.’
‘No, of course not. I’m not jealous of him. But I’m still afraid of getting hurt. You say you love me, but I’d never feel I was really important in your life.’
‘Pippa…’ He reached for her and she backed away, shaking her head.
‘No! Please go, Randal, don’t drag this out. I’m serious. I mean what I say, and it won’t make any difference in the long run for you to make love to me. We both know I’d find it hard to say no at the time, but afterwards I’d still feel the same. I got hurt last time; I don’t want to be hurt again. I’ve thought long and hard about this. There’s no future for us.’
He raked back his tousled hair, grimly staring at her. ‘I don’t accept that! You’re making a stupid fuss about nothing.’
She shrugged. ‘If you think that, you just aren’t listening or trying to understand. There’s no point in talking. I’m not going to change my mind and you’re refusing to see my point of view.’
‘Okay, I’ll leave—but you promised to come with me to see Johnny. Will you at least keep your word about that?’
She made a weary gesture. ‘What good would it do? I’m not going to be part of your life. There’s no point in my meeting him.’
Randal was as serious as she was now, his grey eyes level and silvery, like cooling metal, hardening and losing colour as if all the passion had drained out of him, leaving him icy cold. ‘I think there is. I’d like him to know you. The two of you matter more to me than anyone else in my life. I want you to know each other.’
She bit her lower lip, frowning. ‘Why? What’s the point?’
‘I just told you. I want you to meet, even if it’s only once. And you promised you would. A few hours of your time, that’s all I’m asking you—surely you can spare a few hours?’
Pippa groaned. ‘Why are you so obstinate. You never give up, do you?’
He shook his head. ‘Not when something really matters to me.’
She sighed deeply, thinking. ‘Oh, very well, I’ll come, just once. And then…that’s it, okay? You understand? You accept that I do not want to see you ever again after that?’
He nodded. ‘I hear what you say. I’ll pick you up on Friday, mid-morning, around eleven. Bring a change of clothes and a nightie. We’ll be spending the weekend at a hotel.’
‘Oh, will we?’ she bit out, body tensing in immediate alarm and distrust.
He caught her quick sideways, suspicious look and laughed in light mockery. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not planning a seduction scene. Johnny will be sharing my room; you’ll have one of your own. You’ll be quite safe.’
She had never been safe with him; since the beginning he had made her desperately happy, then bitterly unhappy, and she was determined never to let him risk her happiness again. Next time she fell in love she wanted it to be with someone who loved her the way she needed to be loved, who put her first.
She walked away from him to the front door, opened it. Randal came after her, looked down at her searchingly. ‘By the way, did I hear you agreeing to sell this cottage to Tom?’
‘I knew you were eavesdropping! You have no shame at all, do you? When you’re after your own way you’ll do anything to get it.’ She shrugged contemptuously. ‘But, yes, Tom asked me to sell it directly to him instead of putting it on the market. We were going to live here together, you know, once we were married; he likes the cottage.’
‘I hope you’re going to have it professionally valued!’
‘Of course, but it’s going to make selling it much easier. It will save me the ten per cent the agent would charge, and I trust Tom.’
‘I can’t say I do!’ Randal snorted.
‘You don’t know him! He’s a good man.’
‘So he isn’t buying the cottage just to stay in constant contact with you?’
She resented the dry, ironic note in his voice. ‘No, certainly not. He’s buying it because he loves it, he always has—and after all, I was going to sell it anyway. The sale will be handled through our solicitors; we won’t need to be in contact.
‘I was jealous,’ he coolly retorted. ‘He had your lipstick on his mouth, it was obvious he’d been kissing you, and I was jealous.’
She felt hot colour burn along her throat and face, and looked down, taken aback. The fierceness of his voice made her melt internally, made her legs weak.
He watched her briefly, his face unreadable, then said, ‘See you on Friday.’
He walked down the short drive, got into his car and drove off. Pippa watched him vanish, then went in and shut the front door before going upstairs to have a cooling shower and put on a thin cotton shirt and a pair of cream linen trousers. Love was altogether too exhausting. She could not bear many more scenes like that. Fighting Randal had left scars on her heart and mind. She felt mauled, as if she had been in a cage with a tiger and barely escaped with her life.
She sat down to write her letter of resignation to the insurance company. Before she started looking for another job, it might be a good idea to have a long holiday. She felt she needed one.
She spent the warm spring afternoon in her garden, mowing the lawn, pruning and weeding; it was a peaceful occupation, and she didn’t need to think too hard, but her body used up a lot of the buzzing energy inside her. The weather stayed fine and bright; it was pleasant in the sun. By the time she had eaten a salad and watched TV for an hour or so she was tired enough to go to bed and sleep without difficulty, keeping thoughts of Randal at bay when she was awake but finding him invading her dreams when she slept.
On Thursday Tom came round with a surveyor to price the cottage. While the man wandered around, measuring rooms and testing various parts of the building for signs of woodworm or damp, or other problems, Pippa and Tom sat outside in the garden with coffee and biscuits.
‘You should make quite a bit of money on the deal,’ Tom said in his calm, practical way. ‘You got the place very cheaply and you did the bulk of the redecoration yourself so you didn’t really spend too much on it. It was a very good investment. You’ll finish up with a considerable profit. Will you buy another place at once, or invest the money and rent somewhere for the moment?’
‘First I’ve decided to have a holiday.’ That reminded her of something she had forgotten. ‘Did you mana
ge to cancel the honeymoon?’
‘It was far too late for that. I’ve decided to go alone.’
She bit her lip. ‘Oh. I’m sorry, Tom…’
‘I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I was due a holiday anyway. Where were you thinking of going?’
‘I haven’t thought about it yet. When I come back, though, I’ll have to get another job, then I’ll see what property values are like wherever I move. I sent my resignation in, by the way. They should have it by now.’
Tom nodded, staring at two robins squabbling over some nesting material, a few scraps of twine Pippa had used to tie up lupins months ago, in the summer. They had frayed and broken, were hanging loose; the robins each had hold of one of them and were pulling and squawking crossly at each other.
‘What about…him? Are you seeing him? Going on holiday with him?’
She sighed. ‘Tom, don’t keep asking about Randal, please. I don’t want to talk about him.’ She shaded her eyes to look up at the sky. ‘It’s such a lovely morning; don’t waste it.’
Tom looked sulky, then said, ‘What will you do with your wedding dress? Keep it for next time? When you marry him?’
She winced at the sting of the question. She couldn’t blame him for feeling bitter, though. She hadn’t broken Tom’s heart, she didn’t think he was madly in love with her, but she had damaged his ego, his sense of himself, and to the sort of man Tom was that would be very painful. His dignity was very important to him.
‘I’ve talked to the dressmaker and paid her. I’ll put the dress away for the moment.’ She put a hand on his arm tentatively. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I’ve made a mess of your life, I know that, but I never intended to. It was just bad luck that we had that crash and I met…him…again. But although it was bad luck in one way, I do think it was just as well in another. How could we have been happy when I didn’t really love you the way you should be loved? Sooner or later you would have realised something was missing and then it would have been ten times worse for both of us.’
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