Читать книгу Perfect Strangers - Laura Martin, Laura Martin - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

JAKE claimed her whole being with a passionate, sensual kiss that caused Olivia’s world to tilt on its axis. His mouth was warm and sensual and searching. Her lips parted of their own accord and she felt the true taste of him, she felt the energy, the longing, the need burning between them. . .

No words were necessary. What was there to say? The electricity, the unexplainable certainty that this would happen, had been between them from the beginning. Since that first look, that first touch. . .

His hands were impatient. Searching, moving sensually over the close-fitting dress, exploring every outline, every curve. She gasped as he dragged his mouth from her lips and began kissing the arched curve of her neck, pulling back her cardigan from her shoulders to reveal the covered zip of her dress.

Olivia’s hands flew to his shirt, twisting, gripping the fabric. She felt as if she were drowning and only this man could save her. Trembling fingers slipped beneath the fabric and she felt for the first time the true power of his frame, the strength of pure muscle, the softness of tanned skin, the roughness of dark, curling hair. She felt, too, his reaction to her touch, the sharp breath, the increased pressure of his mouth on her lips.

It was the swift intensity that affected her so deeply. She wanted, shockingly, to be free of the restriction of her clothes. She wanted, she ached to feel the roughness of his hands on her naked body. . .

He knew. Men like Jake Savage always knew.

She gasped as his fingers grazed her skin. Feelings Olivia didn’t even know she possessed spun wildly around inside her head as he began to unfasten her dress. This passion that had been there, lying between them from the beginning, needed assuaging, it needed to reach the ultimate climax. No time to talk, no time to get to know one another—that could come later. . .

‘My bedroom. . .upstairs.’ Her voice was a whisper. A great part of her could hardly believe she was daring to be so bold. Cool, prim Olivia Hamilton? ‘Frigid Olivia’, as Paul had once described her?

‘Has it a bed?’ His voice was deep and husky, his mouth warm and hungry against her skin.

‘Of course.’ She raised her head and kissed him passionately, pressing her body against his towering frame. ‘At least, I hope so. . .’

‘In that case. . .’ Jake swung her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather and carried her effortlessly up the narrow staircase.

His tread sounded hollow on the bare boards and as he carried her in the darkness Olivia knew a fleeting moment of doubt.

He dragged his mouth from hers, pausing on the top step, sensing the sudden rigidity of her slim frame. ‘You do want this. . .?’ Silvery moonlight shone through the landing window, illuminating the rugged planes of his face. ‘Olivia?’ His dark eyes were questioning.

She looked up at him, her eyes scanning every angle, every contour of his face. She knew what she wanted. Rational thought tried to spoil the way she felt, but she thrust it away. Why should she follow her old rules? Why should she? She ached with wanting him. Never before had she experienced such passionate need, such desperate, intense longing.

‘Yes,’ she murmured unsteadily. ‘Yes, I do.’

She clung to him as he caressed her body, gasping with pleasure as his powerful hands took control. Waiting for the right moment. . .wanting her first experience to mean something, to be special. . . All those months of rebuffing Paul’s impatient advances. . . it had all been justified. She had waited for this moment, this man for all of her life.

He took sudden and full possession of her then and Olivia found herself crying aloud, tensing a little in spite of everything.

‘Olivia?’ She heard the ragged incredulity in his voice, the sharp intake of breath as Jake fought his own physical needs and desires. ‘You’re a—!’

‘Please!’ Olivia whispered imploringly, acutely aware that her world would fall apart if he rejected her now. ‘It’s all right.’ She gripped his body tightly, moved against him, pressed her lips against the bronzed skin of his shoulder, working to convince him anyway she knew how. ‘I want this!’

There was a split-second of hesitation, then a faint groan as will-power vanished. ‘So do I,’ he confessed, his voice gruff with desire, ‘so do I. . .’

He was a magnificent lover. Better than Olivia had imagined even in her wildest dreams; strong and powerful, ruthlessly in control, but with kisses that were tender as well as passionate, a touch that possessed silk as well as steel. . .

Olivia found herself crying aloud many times, but there was no pain involved once that special moment had been passed. Only pleasure—pleasure for them both.

It took some time for their desire to diminish; they made love, they kissed and touched and then they wanted each other again. The evening slipped into night and eventually their passion was satisfied.

In the darkness Olivia could hear Jake’s ragged breathing. She felt replete, wonderful, oozing with a happiness that she didn’t wish to analyse.

And Jake?

Olivia moved to look at him. Her head had been resting on the firm, hard chest, but as she moved so did he, lifting her from him, slipping away from her, accompanied by a sharp, almost angry release of breath until there was no longer any physical contact.

‘Jake?’ Olivia’s voice was tentative, uncertain in the half-light. She reached across and cautiously touched the muscular hair-roughened arm that lay a distance from hers. ‘Jake?’

‘Yes?’ His tone was enigmatic, flat almost. Olivia felt the sharp stab of rejection, like a knife through her body. What had she expected? A declaration of love? Some word that would indicate he felt as moved as she?

Destiny. The word reverberated in her mind. They were meant to be lovers. She knew it. She felt it with her whole being. This had not been a mistake. Knowing it filled her mind. The future stretched ahead, bright and full of meaning now that she had met this man.

But she didn’t like this silence; it frightened her.

A shaft of despair ran through Olivia’s body. Surely he wasn’t regretting all that had just taken place? Surely not. ‘It. . .it was OK, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Olivia swallowed and closed her eyes. What was wrong? Why was he being so. . .so distant? She felt movement beside her and saw in the half-light that he had raised himself to a sitting position.

‘It was more than OK,’ he asserted roughly, as if the admission was being dragged out of him. ‘You know that.’

‘Do I?’ She sounded like a child; young and immensely vulnerable.

‘The seduction...’ There was a pause. She could feel him searching for words in the darkness. ‘It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t premeditated...’ His voice was deep, rough-edged. ‘I don’t want you to think that I wander the countryside seducing lone women! It took me as much by surprise as it did you.’

‘I know that,’ Olivia replied unsteadily, watching his outline as he dragged strong fingers through sweat-slicked hair. He sounded bewildered, as if already regretting his indulgence in the pleasures of the flesh.

‘How do you know?’ He looked down at her, silvery moonlight flashing like steel in his eyes. ‘We’ve just met, Olivia, remember?’ he reminded her unsteadily. ‘You know as little about me as I do about you! You were a virgin, for God’s sake!’ He flung the word at her like an accusation. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘It didn’t seem important,’ Olivia replied quietly.

‘Not important?’

‘You know what I mean!’ Olivia hated the way he was making her feel. She tried desperately to find the right words that would make him understand. ‘I wanted you to make love to me.’

She heard him release a taut breath. ‘I know.’

Olivia tried to swallow but her throat felt tight. She shivered in the chill room. ‘You’re regretting what’s happened, aren’t you?’

‘No.’ His voice was flat. He looked across at Olivia and she felt rather than saw the intensity of his gaze. ‘How could I regret any of what’s just taken place?’ he added quietly. ‘But we’re strangers. . .’

Was that all it was? Olivia felt a sense of relief wash over her. ‘We could change that,’ she replied simply.

‘What?’

Was he being deliberately cruel? His voice sounded harsh and scornful suddenly, amazed, outraged even, as if she had suggested something dreadful. Surely not. Jake had been so sensitive, so caring during their lovemaking.

Everything was going wrong. Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes and she shut them tight, glad of the virtual darkness of the room. ‘I just thought—’

‘Well, don’t!’ He released a heavy sigh. ‘Please, don’t think! Look, Olivia. It was good. Hell, it was better than good, but don’t go getting the wrong idea.’ Jake reached over and for a fleeting moment she felt the warmth of his touch on her face. ‘I don’t regret what’s taken place between us, I’ve told you that, but I’m not interested in involvement, or emotional ties or anything that even remotely resembles a relationship.’ He released a taut breath and swung away from her. ‘So if you’re under the illusion that—’

‘I’m not!’ Olivia’s voice was sharp. She was having to think fast and talk even faster. Such humiliation! She could hardly bear it. She had given this man everything. She had followed her true feelings, been guided by the deepest of emotions, only to have it all thrown back in her face. She hardened her voice. ‘You’ve obviously got the wrong impression. Don’t worry, Jake, I’m not the clinging type!’

She heard a relieved breath. ‘Good.’ There was an agonising pause. ‘Look,’ he continued eventually, ‘if I’ve made you feel bad or cheated then I’m sorry—’

Pain twisted like a knife in a wound. She didn’t want his sympathy! ‘You haven’t!’ Olivia took a steadying breath and continued determinedly, ‘I’ve come to this part of the world to be free from ties and complications. I’ve just. . .extracted myself from a rather messy emotional tangle and the last thing I want is another relationship! I’m. . . I’m just not interested.’

‘So we feel the same way?’ His voice was cool, but questioning, and she could sense the importance attached to the enquiry.

Olivia gulped a breath and swung her legs off the bed, groping for her clothes, feeling the damp wool of her dress beneath her fingers. ‘It would seem so. Now,’ she made an effort and hardened her voice still further, ‘I think it’s best if you go.’ She attempted a short laugh that sounded strained and unnatural in the gloom. ‘After all, I’m hardly in a position to offer much in the way of hospitality, am I? The place is a mess and it’s freezing up here!’

‘You’ll be all right?’ His voice momentarily held concern in the darkness of the bedroom. ‘If you want help with anything—’

Olivia swung back round to glare at the large, formidable outline. ‘Just go, will you?’ she gritted. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m tired and I’m cold and now that it’s all over and we know where we both stand I just want you out of my house!’

‘As you wish.’ The warmth in Jake’s voice had turned to ice. He rose from the bed and picked up his clothes from the floor. Olivia watched, tears glistening in her eyes, as he dressed without haste. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so desolate, so alone.

‘I suppose. . .’ Olivia cleared her throat and tried to stop herself from shivering ‘. . .there’s a girlfriend waiting for you somewhere?’ She held her breath and then forced herself to say it. ‘A wife?’

‘There’s no one.’ His voice was terse, almost savage. ‘I thought I’d just made that clear! I’m no adulterer! I’m simply not interested in any long-term relationship.’ He finished fastening his shirt and looked across towards the bed. ‘I’ve already been taught my lesson. I’d be a fool not to learn from it.’ There was a slight pause. ‘You must be cold,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll bring up a couple of your suitcases.’

‘There’s no need!’

‘Yes, there is. Your dress was damp from the storm—you can’t put that on again.’

‘I told you not to bother!’ Olivia snapped as he walked out of the bedroom. ‘I don’t need kindness,’ she called wildly. ‘I don’t need you treating me like a child. . .or one of your damn animals!’ she added as an afterthought.

No reply. It was worse than an argument. Suddenly she wanted to fight him. Suddenly she hated him. Why didn’t he feel the same way as she did? How could she have made such a dreadful mistake?

Whilst he was gone Olivia sprang from the bed and struggled with her underclothes. She felt so vulnerable. So foolish. She heard his footsteps on the stairs and fumbled wildly with the catch of her bra.

‘Here. Your clothes.’ Jake dumped a suitcase onto the bed and flicked on the light.

‘I want you to go!’

‘I will. But not before you’ve found something to wear.’ He clicked open one of the cases and glanced across, dark eyes resting impassively on Olivia’s half-naked figure. ‘Do you want some help with that?’

‘It’s OK, I can manage.’

‘It’s twisted.’

‘I can manage.’

He wasn’t listening. Jake walked towards her and Olivia took a few steps back. ‘What’s the matter?’ He looked fierce. His mouth tightened ominously as Olivia shook her head.

‘Just go!’

‘I will once you stop looking so petrified. Now turn around and let me help you.’

‘Don’t touch me!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he replied calmly, ‘We’ve just made love. I’ve done more than touch you!’

‘I wish to God you hadn’t!’

She felt his fingers still and her heart stopped beating. He was so close. His black hair was still tousled from their lovemaking and Olivia had to beat down the desire to reach up a hand and smooth it into place.

‘You don’t mean that.’ Cool authority masked his anger as he looked down into her face.

Olivia’s bottom lip trembled, but she bit down on it and stared up fiercely, her wide blue eyes clashing with Jake Savage’s formidable gaze. ‘Don’t I?’

‘You were more passionate than any woman I’ve made love to,’ he asserted quietly, touching her cheek briefly with his hand. ‘Don’t spoil it all now by lying!’

‘Spoil it?’ Olivia released an unsteady breath. ‘You can say that to me?’

‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep!’ he informed her tersely. ‘I don’t lie, I don’t deceive. I’m not a damned hypocrite!’ His expression was taut suddenly, a cold, metallic mask that froze her very soul. ‘Believe me, over the years I’ve seen enough hypocrisy to last me a lifetime! We made love this evening because it felt like the thing to do. Because it was the only thing to do!’

‘Please!’ Olivia cried desperately. ‘Can’t you understand that I regret everything that’s just taken place?’

He looked at her with a frown. ‘And you honestly expect me to believe that?’ The dark head shook with disbelief. ‘OK. I’ll go,’ he murmured. ‘But don’t imagine this is the end—’

‘I want it to be!’

Jake’s mouth curved slightly. ‘No, you don’t.’ Dark eyes slid over her bare breasts. He reached forward and stroked a darkened nipple with one finger and Olivia felt the now familiar ache of desire his touch could produce all over again. ‘What we achieved tonight is rare,’ he asserted knowledgeably. ‘Neither of us could deny ourselves the pleasure of such sexual harmony. It has to continue.’

Words failed her. Olivia opened her mouth to speak, to deny all that he said, but nothing emerged. ‘You see?’ Jake was observing her reactions closely. ‘You know deep down that what I say is the truth.’ He slid his fingers across her breast and adjusted the strap of her bra. ‘I’ll let myself out.’

She watched him leave the room, rigid with resentment, shocked by what he had said. Did he really imagine that she would be willing to. . .to. . .continue after all that had just been said?

There was a biting wind outside that howled mournfully through the trees. Olivia drew back the faded bedroom curtains and felt the sharp breeze blowing into the room through the old, ill-fitting windows.

She shivered, watching silently as Jake placed the sedated dog carefully inside the back of the Range Rover and then covered it with a tartan blanket. There was a brief glow as the interior light went on, a glimpse of Jake Savage’s hard, enigmatic expression. Then darkness, the roar of a powerful engine, a glow of red tail-lights and in the next moment the Range Rover was pulling away into the night.

Next morning it was still raining. Olivia stood at her bedroom window and stared across the fields, watching impassively as the low clouds drifted in sheets of grey.

April showers, she thought. Except that today was the first day of May, and this definitely was no shower. She glanced around the attic-style bedroom and considered going back to bed. It was early yet, not even seven o’clock, and it was cold and dismal. . .

He was on her mind, of course. She had dreamt about him in the early hours of the morning; a reenacting of their lovemaking the previous night.

Olivia wrapped her dressing-gown tightly around her and longed for central heating. Amendment to the list, she thought; get a heating firm to install an efficient system as soon as possible—wood fires in every room were not going to be possible or practical.

He had left his jacket. It was the first thing her eyes alighted on when she came downstairs. She picked up the expensive suede garment and looked at it for a long while, her mind swinging back to the previous evening, to the shock and pleasure of his embrace. Her body stirred at the memory. The intensity; that had been the thing that had lingered on far into the night, still lingered even now. How could he have told her he wasn’t interested in involvement after making love to her like that?

The jacket felt soft beneath her fingers; she saw that it was a little worn at the cuffs and guessed instinctively that it was a favoured article.

Olivia pressed her face against the suede and breathed in the unforgettable scent of him. Smell was important to her, in London the toxic fumes of the street, the impersonal, clinical smell of her hi-tech office had been a continual bugbear. On many, many days during a stifling spell of scorching weather, or during the dank, dismal hours of winter, she had longed for fresh country air.

And now she had it.

Olivia tossed the jacket angrily down onto the sofa and walked to her front door. She turned the key and drew back the bolts. It was a dreadful morning but that didn’t matter. She was here in the country at least. She should be feeling happy. Paul had done her a favour—he had precipitated the move here; his callous behaviour had allowed her to see that she had never really loved him.

But Jake Savage. . . Olivia frowned and closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sweet, damp air. She could hardly believe all that had taken place between them. . .

On impulse she stepped under the porch and out into the pouring rain.

It was a mad thing to do, but totally invigorating. Olivia tipped her face to the skies and allowed the rain to saturate her. I’m washing away the grime of the city, she thought. Maybe I can wash away all thoughts of Jake Savage and start again. . . She tried not to think about how completely he had possessed her, how much her body had ached with wanting him, far into the night after he had gone. Still ached. . . She couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was infatuation of the most intense kind. ‘Please, don’t let it be love,’ Olivia whispered as the rain drenched her face, ‘don’t let it be that.’

‘Is this a ritual you hope to perform every morning? If I’d known I’d have made a point of getting here earlier!’

Olivia spun around, her heart beating wildly at the sound of his voice. Jake Savage stood a few feet away, dressed in a long waxed raincoat with two golden Labradors sitting obediently at his feet, watching her make an absolute fool of herself.

‘Don’t let my presence make any difference,’ he drawled, leaning nonchalantly on the gate. ‘Go right ahead. I never expected this sort of entertainment so early in the morning. It’s quite, quite fascinating.’

Olivia’s face flamed with embarrassment; she half expected to see steam coming off her body, so great was the blush that enveloped her. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a voice that would have frozen water. ‘It’s rather early in the morning for social calls, isn’t it?’

‘I’m walking the dogs.’ Ebony eyes speared her face. ‘Be warned, I do it every morning at around this time. So, if you feel the need to perform this little rite every day and don’t wish me to be a witness, I suggest you either set your alarm clock a little earlier or wait until after breakfast.’