Читать книгу Perfect Proposals Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 32

THEY had five days on their own.

Dreamy, peaceful days for the most part when they swam and went boating, talked, read—and made love.

They had some electrifying encounters when their need for each other got quite out of hand…

He took her out to dinner one night. She dressed carefully in a simple, sleeveless black dress with a square neckline, against which her pearls looked fabulous. She put her hair up, and knew immediately as he narrowed his eyes briefly that he didn’t approve. But she was rather pleased with it so she left it as it was. Her finishing touch was to spray some perfume behind her ears.

‘Ready?’ He was lounging in the doorway wearing navy trousers and a cream linen shirt.

She slipped on her high-heeled sandals. ‘Ready!’

They ate on the waterfront at Sanctuary Cove, a resort complex with wonderful shops, a marina and a great variety of restaurants. Jo loved it, and before they sat down they strolled through the village, with its ornate lampposts and flower-decked pavements, window-shopping. Then they walked down one of the marina arms admiring the boats.

And she was really enjoying her dinner when, suddenly, Gavin pushed his Lobster Mornay away and announced that he couldn’t do it.

‘Do what?’ She stared at him with her knife and fork poised.

‘Eat.’

She frowned. ‘Why not? Mine’s lovely.’

‘It should be down, not up.’

‘How could—’ Her grey gaze was mystified as she inspected his plate. ‘Are you talking about the lobster?’

He shook his head. ‘Your hair.’

Jo expelled an exasperated little breath. She’d forgotten all about that disapproving little glint in his eyes as she’d tied her hair up in a knot. ‘I’ll take it down when we get home.’

‘Why not now?’

She glanced around. ‘Don’t be silly, Gavin. It—that would be—’ she sought the right word ‘—unhygienic.’

He sat back and fingered his jaw. ‘Isn’t it clean?’

‘It’s perfectly clean,’ she countered with a touch of asperity. ‘You saw me wash it earlier.’

‘So?’

She eyed him. He looked perfectly relaxed with the line of his shoulders wide and comfortable under the cream linen, but just the thought of them did strange things to her.

As an artist she found the perfection of those broad shoulders and his sleek, muscled torso were an invitation she now knew she couldn’t resist transmitting to paper.

As a woman and a lover she knew they were a source of desire and joy and the thought of being in his arms and his bed made her feel weak at the knees—but now, here? Surely he couldn’t stir her up in that rapturous way in such a public spot?

‘Jo?’ He said it softly and watched that delicious pulse beating rapidly at the base of her throat.

‘Um…well, it’s not a good idea to spread even clean hairs around at the table,’ she said a little raggedly.

‘I’m not asking you to wave it about, just let it down, slowly and carefully, if you like. Actually, slowly and carefully would be best. For me.’

That’s just like asking me to undress slowly and carefully for you—it shot through her mind. And some colour spread up her throat to her cheeks. ‘It’s not good manners, Gavin.’

‘Then we better go home—’ he stood up and held his hand out to her ‘—since good manners mean so much to you.’

‘I haven’t finished,’ she protested.

‘I could take it down for you.’

‘My hair? No! Not here!’

His lips twisted. ‘My point entirely. Come, Josie.’

People were already starting to look at them oddly.

‘I…we can’t just walk out. You haven’t paid or anything.’

He gestured dismissively. ‘They know me.’

Jo looked around into what appeared to her to be dozens of pairs of amused, quizzical eyes. She put her napkin on the table hurriedly and stood up.

She also said, through her teeth, ‘Does that mean you make a habit of this?’

‘No. You’re the first woman to do it to me.’

Their gazes locked and there was something unsmiling but electrifying about the way his eyes lingered on her.

So much so she turned on her heel and walked out ahead of him with her head held high but every secret, sensual spot beneath her skin clamouring for his touch.

The ride home was fast and they didn’t talk at all. He didn’t bother with putting the car in the garage, but pulled up outside the portico, and spun the wheels on the gravel of the drive.

They only just got inside the heavily carved front door before he put a hand on her shoulder, saying grimly, ‘Do you know you’ve been driving me crazy for the last two hours with that stern, prim, bloody knot?’

‘Oh?’ She examined her mixture of annoyance and intrigue—intrigue that she could drive him crazy simply by tying up her hair. Even so, she reminded herself, he had embarrassed her so the big question was—how to deal with such conflicting emotions?

Something dealt with it for her. Something she couldn’t name within her told her that two could play this game.

‘How about this, then?’ she murmured, and slipped off her shoes. The hall tiles were cool beneath her feet.

She looked around and took her pearls off and hung them from one of the hands of the bronze Hindu goddess who presided over the hall. Then she reached for her zip and her black dress floated down her body and pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it gravely, picked it up and hung it over the other of the goddess’s hands.

Then she attended to her hair and, when it was released, shook her head so that it swirled in a gold cloud, and she put her hands on her hips. At the same time she noted how heavily he was breathing as he studied the fascinating play of a delicate black lace bra and hipster briefs on the creamy satin of her skin.

‘No Bonds Cottontails tonight,’ he said.

‘No.’

He looked into her eyes. ‘Am I allowed to touch?’

‘No-o.’ Her voice cracked a little but her gaze was firm. ‘Not until you apologize.’

‘For what?’

‘Embarrassing the life out of me.’

He raised a satanic eyebrow. ‘You don’t see it as a compliment?’

‘I may eventually. Right now—well, would you like me to be honest?’

‘Be my guest,’ he rasped.

Jo considered for a moment and examined her sudden sense of unreality, even unease. ‘I’m far more interested in solving this rather savage state of affairs between us.’

A glint of something different entered his eyes. ‘How?’

‘I don’t know. In the meantime, I’m going to bed.’ She turned and walked away from him.

She didn’t get very far. He came up behind and put his arms around her. ‘Like hell you are without me if that’s what you had in mind, Jo Lucas,’ he growled into her ear and brought his hands up to cup her breasts. ‘OK, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself.’

She hesitated.

‘Let me show you,’ he murmured, and moved his hands down her waist to slide them beneath the top of her panties.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘That’s…’ She couldn’t go on as she grew warm and wet with desire.

‘Am I forgiven?’ he breathed against the side of her neck.

She leant back against him. ‘I’m tending towards being more complimented,’ she said slowly.

‘Good.’ He turned her round and swept her up in his arms. ‘Let’s see if I can compliment you further.’

‘These,’ he said later, ‘also drive me mad.’

They were lying on their sides, facing each other. Once again the wild silk pillows were scattered around the floor and the coverlet lay in a crumpled heap beneath his clothes and her bra and pants.

He pushed himself up on his elbow and stroked the curve of her hip.

Jo stretched her arms upwards and pointed her toes. ‘I’d never thought about them particularly.’

‘Well, if I suddenly ask you, in the middle of dinner, to get up and walk away from me, you’ll know why.’

Her breathing jolted. ‘I see that I’m in for some exciting times.’

‘Mmm. Like right now.’

From the word go, it became extremely sultry as he kissed her from head to toe and revelled in the perfume of her skin, her secret, most intimate spots. And as she gave herself up to the ever-growing excitement, she made her own explorations of his hard, honed body until there was only one place to go.

They went down that road together in perfect unison, holding, tasting, touching and thrilling each other with the sensations they aroused as never before.

And when it was over they lay exhausted in each other’s arms, and fell asleep in a tangle of sweat-dewed limbs.

‘Jo?’

Her lashes fluttered up to reveal daylight filtering through the curtains, then she turned her head to see Gavin watching her with a frown in his eyes.

‘Yes?’ She struggled to sit up. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Of course. Why?’

He groaned and buried his head between her breasts for a moment. ‘I don’t know what got into me last night.’

She subsided and her mouth curved. ‘Neither do I—I mean, I don’t know what got into me. Oh, no.’ She sat up again with her hand to her mouth.

‘What?’

Although there was no live-in staff, a middle-aged housekeeper, who went by the name of Sophie, came in daily.

‘My dress. My pearls!’

Instant understanding came to his eyes. ‘You feel Sophie might get the socks shocked off her to find them hanging up in the hall?’

‘Yes! Would you…would you be a darling and get them for me?’

‘Too late. I heard her come in by the front door about ten minutes ago.’

Jo looked stricken, so much so, he had to laugh. ‘She’s a married lady with four children and two grandchildren.’

‘She may have forgotten what it can be like, in that case,’ Jo replied gloomily.

‘What it can be like,’ he repeated with a reminiscent smile and pulled her back into his arms. ‘I haven’t. But rest assured she’s too well paid to make you feel uncomfortable about it.’

Jo relaxed against him. ‘What if she gossips?’

‘She’s too well paid for that also, and she signed a confidentiality clause anyway.’

‘Do you really have to go to those lengths to protect your privacy, Gavin?’

‘Uh-huh. As a matter of fact I’ve stepped up our security since the kidnap attempt. Everyone we employ is now fully vetted first, not only household staff.’

‘I always did get the feeling the Kin Can connection was on a par with the Mount Miriam one,’ she teased.

Strangely, a variation of that subject, in the form of other problems great wealth could attract, came up a few days later when their official honeymoon was over.

They were still on the Gold Coast but the embargo Gavin had placed on any business—even phone calls—had been lifted, and Sharon Pritchard came down for a visit with her three girls as well as Adele and Rosie.

They had a fun lunch, then Gavin took the kids for a spin in the speedboat leaving Sharon, Adele and Jo to pore over the wedding photos Adele had brought with her.

‘Just look at her,’ Adele trilled as she pointed to Elspeth Morgan, captured talking very earnestly to one of Gavin’s uncles, the same one who had assumed Jo was a Mount Miriam Lucas.

‘She was wasting her time if she was trying to impress Uncle Garth,’ Sharon said with a chuckle. ‘He’s as mad as a hatter and “new money” doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest.’

Adele agreed but added the rider, ‘Mind you, there’s an awful lot of Morgan money and I guess it’s not that long ago that we were all new money.’

Sharon waved a languid hand. ‘At least we know the dynasty is secure again. Or can be, heaven-willing.’

‘Sharon,’ Adele reproved.

‘Secure?’ Jo questioned, suddenly looking up from a photo of her and Gavin. ‘In what way?’

‘In the way of you having sons, darling,’ Sharon said succinctly. ‘Gavin looked all set to be the first in a direct line of Hastings not to have a male heir, which was a bit of a worry. Nor have I helped exactly by having three daughters.’

Jo turned to Adele with a frown in her eyes.

‘Take no notice, Jo,’ Adele commanded. ‘That’s all nonsense. Sharon—’ she turned to her daughter ‘—you can be as bad as Elspeth Morgan! Things don’t work that way these days.’

Sharon grimaced. ‘Maybe, but you can’t deny it would be a huge burden for Rosie’s shoulders. And you can’t deny that a girl can be very much at the mercy of the man she marries.’

Jo swallowed and looked down at the photo in her hands. She and Gavin were standing side by side looking into each other’s eyes and her first glance at the photo had produced a little thrill. Now, all she could think was, amongst his admitted need of a wife, had he neglected to tell her he needed a son?

And was the rest of the Hastings family thinking along those lines? Two of his aunts had certainly had it in mind at the wedding, she recalled.

‘Sons can be just as capable of squandering an empire as sons-in-law not brought up to it,’ Adele observed prosaically.

‘Well, I can’t help thinking you showed such a brave, steady, practical nature throughout that ghastly kidnapping business, Jo, that your genes added to Gavin’s would produce fine sons.’ Sharon reached for another photo.

Jo, Gavin and Rosie waved Adele, Sharon and her girls off later that afternoon.

‘OK, catfish,’ Gavin said to Rosie, ‘we’ve got two more days down here, then it’s back to Kin Can. How would you like to spend the time?’

‘I would love to go to Sea World! They have some polar bears there. I saw them when they were babies. Have you seen them, Jo?’ Rosie turned to her excitedly. ‘No.’

‘Sea World it is tomorrow, then,’ Gavin said. ‘Anything else?’

‘No, I’ll just enjoy being with you two. I wanted to ask you something, Jo. Should I call you Jo or Mum?’

For some reason Jo glanced across at Gavin over Rosie’s head and she saw him narrow his eyes suddenly.

‘Oh, I think Jo is fine, Rosie, don’t you?’ she said after the barest hesitation. ‘For the time being anyway.’

‘What would you like to call her, Rosie?’ Gavin intervened.

Rosie drew a deep breath. ‘You know how we said goodbye to my mother before the wedding, Daddy?’

‘Yes, sweetheart,’ he said quietly.

‘Well, although I never knew her, she was my real mother and I was worried that it wouldn’t be right to call someone else Mum, although I’m thrilled to have a new mother,’ she assured Jo earnestly. ‘Does that make sense?’ she added anxiously.

‘Perfect sense,’ Jo said softly. ‘That’s fine with me, Rosie.’

‘What about,’ Gavin said out of the blue as they were getting ready for bed that night, ‘our other kids?’

Jo had wrapped herself in a cotton robe and was sitting brushing her hair at the dressing table. She looked up at his reflection in the mirror and she felt her nerves tighten as she recalled his sister’s thoughts on dynasties.

‘What about them?’

‘We do plan to have a family, don’t we, Jo?’ He came up behind her and took the brush from her. He hadn’t changed yet and he wore jeans and a navy T-shirt.

‘We didn’t discuss that.’

He’d started to brush her hair but he stopped abruptly. ‘I sort of assumed it went without saying.’ His eyes in the mirror were intent and probing.

Jo swallowed. ‘So did I, I guess. Although perhaps not immediately.’ She frowned. ‘Are you saying that I should have encouraged Rosie to call me Mum?’

‘I’m just wondering if it won’t make her feel a little on the outside if she’s the only one not to.’

A fleeting smile curved Jo’s lips. ‘How many do we plan to have, Gavin?’

‘It’s up to you.’ He resumed brushing.

‘Look,’ Jo said slowly, ‘to be honest, I was feeling my way with Rosie. And you,’ she added and shrugged. ‘It’s a delicate area for both of you—as she proved.’

‘You thought I might object to her calling you Mum?’

‘Yes, I did. Oh, it would be perfectly natural,’ she assured him. ‘Your memories—’

‘Don’t include Rosie calling anyone Mum,’ he broke in.

‘Gavin—’ Jo swung round on the stool and took her brush back ‘—we seem to be on different wavelengths here. Please tell me exactly what you’re thinking.’

He sat down on the end of the bed opposite her. ‘I just thought it might be practical—’ He stopped and looked down at his shoes. ‘The thing is, because of the way it happened, I have no memories of Sasha mothering Rosie. On the other hand I have very clear memories of mentally ranting and railing on how unfair it was that Rosie should have been deprived of a mother.’

‘You—somehow or other you took her to say goodbye, though,’ Jo said huskily.

‘Yes. Sasha is buried in the family graveyard on Kin Can. I thought we both needed to say goodbye.’ He looked up suddenly. ‘I didn’t expect it to hit Rosie that way, however.’

Jo considered it all and found herself feeling as if she’d entered a minefield. For the last five days they’d been so close, she and Gavin, she’d lost sight of what she’d assumed was the underlying reason for this marriage—Rosie.

Then, that very afternoon she’d had the importance of sons thrust at her—and here was Gavin talking about starting a family almost right on cue, however it had come up. Not to mention his concern that Rosie would be melded seamlessly into their family unit.

Naturally she would share that concern, she reflected. On the other hand, why did she have the feeling that the honeymoon was well and truly over and providing sons for the Hastings dynasty was coming at her like a runaway train?

Was she imagining it all? Had it simply been a series of coincidences that the subject should have been touched upon the way it had? Or—was Sharon right in thinking she had been summed up genetically and found acceptable? Hadn’t they agreed only days ago that they were well matched?

Her gaze focused on Gavin suddenly. Had that been the basis of his conviction that he needed to marry her and her only—not quite as unclear as he’d told her?

And what about the conviction she had right now that he wasn’t being completely open with her?

‘Jo?’

‘Uh…’ She made an effort to concentrate. ‘So far as Rosie goes, I think it would be wise to take things slowly.’

‘How about the rest of our family? Slowly, too?’

‘Gavin, we’ve only been married for six days!’

His lips twisted. ‘I know. But it is on your agenda, to have kids?’

She raised the brush and stroked it through her hair. ‘Why would you doubt it?’ she asked.

‘You can be—rather secretive, Jo.’

‘In what way?’

‘I may be wrong, you’re very athletic and active, but I got the feeling you were a virgin.’

‘Is that what this is all about?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You have a grudge about that?’

‘Not per se. If anything I was—honoured. I just can’t quite work out why you didn’t tell me.’

‘It so happens I was just about to tell you when a boat blew up in the river!’

‘And after that?’

‘It didn’t seem…I mean, I’d planned to tell you because I was afraid I might seem, well, awkward, but that didn’t happen, thanks to you.’

His gaze softened.

‘Besides,’ she added, ‘we did agree that what’s past is past.’

‘So I’m not to be allowed to know why you reached twenty-four without ever having a lover?’ he queried.

‘No one—’ she paused ‘—measured up to you, Gavin.’

Something sharpened in his eyes. ‘Then it wasn’t only convenience you had in mind when you married me, Jo?’

‘I never said it was.’

He looked ironic. ‘It featured quite prominently, but, anyway—how say you now?’

They stared at each other.

‘Why do I have the feeling you’ve got me in some kind of dock and are pressing charges?’ she asked huskily.

‘Wouldn’t it be natural to examine our feelings now it’s—let me rephrase—it’s done now?’

The words seemed to echo in her mind but she couldn’t pinpoint why. And she tried to take hold then, but she couldn’t help thinking that her decision to hedge her bets might still be a wise one—until she discovered what this was all about and how desperate he was for a son, at least.

She stood up and walked over to the window, from where she could see the channel markers in the river flashing red and green. In her disturbed state of mind they seemed to mirror her dilemma. Green for ‘go for broke’ and simply be honest with him? Or, red for extreme caution required, pass this point and you’re liable to end up on the rocks?

Rocks such as not being able to produce a son to order, for example?

‘No, I don’t think it would be wise to get academic at this stage, Gavin,’ she said, not turning. ‘What we’ve had so far has been lovely. Let’s just go forward and try to build on it.’

He didn’t reply for a long time, and then he didn’t reply in the spoken word. He came up behind her and put his arms around her, and simply held her until she relaxed against him. Then he started to nuzzle her neck and finally, when she was feeling weak at the knees with desire, he took her to bed.

But although their love-making was intense and wonderful, she couldn’t help feeling she’d survived a crisis.

Over the next three months she woke gradually to the realization that she was still living that crisis, and that it might have two names. Not only sons, but memories of Sasha?