Читать книгу From Italy With Love - Jules Wake, Jules Wake - Страница 11

As she brought the car to a stop, she could see Cam was in a towering fury. Suddenly her bravado evaporated, the adrenaline surging through her veins catapulted to an abrupt stop and she gulped. He yanked open the car door and hauled her out to face him, his eyes blazing. Standing on shaky legs, all she could manage was to stare up at him, completely mute. Her heart still pounded and the last vestiges of euphoria sizzled in her nerve endings. That had been something else.

‘What the fuck do you think you were playing at?’ He ground the words out as if through gritted teeth.

Reality crashed in and the enormity of what she’d just done hit her. ‘I knew what I was doing,’ she muttered. Oh God, she sounded just like a sulky teenager.

Cam annoyingly quirked one eyebrow as if to say, ‘Who are you kidding?’ He shook his head.

When that first bend came up a lot quicker than she remembered, she thought her heart might just burst out of her chest. Fighting to get the car into third had taken all her wits and strength but she wasn’t going to admit it to Cam. The look on his face the first time she’d passed him had been worth it. Sheer surprise. Served him right. Just because she didn’t mix with the jet set, didn’t mean she was some numpty dullard beneath his notice. The second lap of the track had been pure heaven though and she couldn’t regret it.

She’d braced herself for him to shout but he seemed to have got himself under control.

‘Well, you might think you know what you’re doing,’ his stern expression made it clear, he didn’t think so, ‘but you can’t drive like that on public roads. There are a lot of other things to think about instead of showing off. And don’t forget it’s a left hand drive.’

Damn. He was right. She was going to have to back-track like mad. It was perfectly legal to drive with a provisional licence on a private road but not on a public road. She’d let herself get carried away. The magic of the car. See, that’s what happened when you let yourself be ruled by emotion. She didn’t want to risk driving. She’d been planning to play the girly-I-can’t-drive-a-car-like-that card.

‘Sorry, you’re right. It was irresponsible.’ She tried to strike a humble note even though she wanted to stick out her tongue at him. ‘I hadn’t thought. It would be very different with other cars around.’

‘Yes, if you hit something else that would be very bad news.’ Cam looked very serious. ‘Cars like this aren’t built like modern cars; even a minor bump can cause a huge amount of damage. And if you’re not used to left hand drive, it’s difficult to orientate yourself.’

Her face fell. She hadn’t thought of that either. Of course the car would probably crumple like a tin can. No, no driving for her. It wasn’t like you could get spare parts for a car like this. All the better reason for him to drive.

‘Cam …?’

‘Yes?’

‘Perhaps it would be better if you did most of the driving and I just did little bits on the quiet bits. I mean it doesn’t say anything, as far as I can see … I’ll check with Ron … but there’s nothing to say I have to drive, is there?’

An odd expression crossed Cam’s face. Almost like relief − or was that triumph?

‘Sounds good to me. These high performance cars do take quite a bit of getting used to, and trying to drive on the other side of the road and coping with French drivers, not to mention the Italians, will make it even harder. I think that’s a good call.’ He sounded impossibly pompous and she gave him a curious look. It was not at all like the devil-may-care attitude she’d glimpsed before.

He was right though. Disappointment flared, once she’d got used to the feel of the clutch and the accelerator, the responsiveness of the car had dazzled her, that burst of speed, the handling. But it was for the best, she couldn’t possibly take her test before they had to leave and there was no way she’d admit to Mr Super-sophisticated that she didn’t have a full driving-licence. She gave the low slung bonnet a longing look. Shame, driving it had been something else.

Robert appeared in the hallway as soon as she opened the front door.

‘How was it? How did you get on?’

Laurie grinned, pleased to see his enthusiasm. She’d half expected him to be a bit sulky. ‘It was great. I surprised myself. It’s a difficult car to drive …’

‘You drove it! I thought he was driving—’

‘Don’t worry,’ she put a hand out to placate him, ‘it was on private land. Uncle Miles owns a disused track. I drove it there.’

‘Well I don’t see why you bothered. It’s not as if you can drive it anyway.’

‘That’s the thing; I’d forgotten I …’ There probably wasn’t any point explaining to Robert that her uncle had taught her to drive at the age of thirteen and that until she was fifteen she’d been a regular at the track. She knew he would be horrified.

‘Anyway Cam’s agreed to do the driving.’

‘What all the way to Italy?’ Robert looked sceptical

She nodded.

His mouth turned down. ‘That’s great then, isn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well he’s hardly doing it out of the goodness of his heart is he? So your uncle must have paid him. How much I wonder?’ Then he brightened. ‘I suppose it will be worth it when you get to Italy.’

‘Yes.’ She stepped past him into the kitchen. No sign of food on the go yet.

‘That’s brilliant.’ Robert scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. ‘You’re amazing, you know that.’ He kissed her soundly and then deepened the kiss, his tongue diving into her mouth.

His sudden enthusiasm and the unexpected amorous lunge of his hand down her shirt and into her bra confused her. To put it bluntly he’d always been a lights off, in bed only type of guy and much as she might have occasionally wished for a bit more spontaneity, this didn’t feel right.

With his other arm he pulled her against him.

‘Oh Laurie, I love you so much,’ he moaned, nuzzling her neck. ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’

‘Robert,’ she tried to push him away but he was kissing her mouth again and pushing his groin against her with such insistence that she suddenly found herself with her back against the draining board.

‘I love you …’ he kissed her full on the lips again, eyes focused and bright. ‘Let’s get married. I know the registry office idea threw you … but with you going away … let’s just do it. Life’s too short. I hate the idea of you being so far away from me. I need to know you’ll come back to me. Mrs Evans.’ He held her face in his hand, his fingers biting just a bit too hard into her jaw.

The intensity of his gaze, full beam, stirred anxiety rather than joy. This should have been romantic, incredibly romantic … it wasn’t.

‘What’s wrong, Robert?’

‘Nothing. It’s just you not wanting to get married knocked me. I couldn’t bear to lose you.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ She smiled to take the sting out of the words but he was being completely ridiculous. In their time together he’d never had a particularly romantic bent. They just weren’t that sort of couple. Why now? And why was he spouting about ‘losing’ her? It was ridiculously melodramatic.

‘If you really want all the bells and whistles, we can do that when you get back. Renewal of vows. The important bit is us, you and me, promising to each other. A declaration, private, just the two of us.’ Robert’s earnest gaze bored into her. She felt saliva collecting in her mouth, her jaw tense, aching.

She closed her eyes trying to distance herself from him. The last thing, she wanted to do was hurt his feelings. What a contrary bitch she was. After such an impassioned, desperate declaration. And that was the clincher. Desperate.

The word rang in her head. Desperate. Why was he suddenly so desperate? In eighteen months, he’d never shown any interest in getting married. She’d broached the subject six months ago, and despite the possible tax breaks, he’d been quite sure there wasn’t much point.

‘Honestly Robert, don’t be so daft.’ She pushed past him and opened the fridge. ‘Fancy an omelette for tea?’ Not waiting for his answer, she carried on, ‘Besides, it’s only a couple of weeks.’ She shook her head refusing to give into irritation. He’d got some bee in his bonnet but she wasn’t going to let it cause an argument.

She didn’t do arguments or confrontation.

‘Laurie, darling … don’t you want to marry me?’

He was pouting, looking ludicrous and she had no idea what to do.

The easiest thing would have been to say, don’t be silly … of course I do, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words instead she said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Well why won’t you then?’

‘Why won’t I what?’ She stalled, taking a pack of eggs from the fridge.

‘Marry me.’ Robert looked entreatingly at her and guilt curdled in the bottom of her stomach. Why the hell didn’t she just say yes? For an easy life? But she couldn’t bring herself to.

‘But Robert, six months ago, you didn’t want to.’

‘I never said that.’ His mouth snapped shut in a mutinous line.

‘Yes you did. We talked about it.’

‘No we didn’t.’

‘We did. You said the only point was possible tax breaks.’

‘So you don’t want to marry me.’

‘I didn’t say that.’ Tamping down her exasperation, she cracked the eggs smartly on the edge of a Pyrex bowl, pushing the empty shells to one side.

‘Well you don’t exactly seem to be champing at the bit.’ With a sudden movement, he smashed his fist into one of the half shells crushing it.

Realising she needed to tread carefully, she decided to change tack. ‘It’s not that … it’s just the timing.’

‘What’s wrong with the timing? I’d have thought with another death in the family, you’d want the security of another income. If I wasn’t around you’d be completely on your own.’

Laurie closed her eyes, a feeling of unbearable sadness descending from nowhere. Everything he said had a horrible logic about it. Was that all it was about? Not being on her own? They made a good solid couple. Sensible.

And today she’d tasted something else. Not sensible. For a moment she’d glimpsed a different world, experienced a surge of exhilaration and felt a moment of soaring freedom.