Читать книгу Desire Never Changes - Пенни Джордан, Penny Jordan - Страница 7

SHE was awake in plenty of time to put the previous night’s plan into action. From past experience she knew that Andrew would be on duty at seven, stopping to have breakfast later in the staff dining-room, once his working day had swung into action. It was just after quarter to six when she left her room, using the stairs in preference to the lift, knowing that there were unlikely to be any other guests using them at this time of the morning and also that if she went through the fire door on the third floor it led on to the stairs to the staff bedrooms.

As she had hoped she met no one en route to Andrew’s room, and even better his door was slightly ajar, a used tray of tea outside, suggesting that he had put it there and then forgotten to close his door.

Pushing it open gently, Somer tiptoed inside. Although much less attractively furnished than her own room, Andrew’s room was pleasantly large and as she knew, doubled as a bedroom-cum-sitting room, one wall covered in units that held his books and stereo system, as well as the pull-down desk-top he used to work on, and a small portable television.

Privately she had always considered the room rather bleak, lacking a woman’s touch, but as she hovered in the small hallway, her presence concealed by the door to the small bathroom, she became aware that Andrew was not alone. Her body froze as she recognised Judith’s voice, husky and faintly lazy as though she were still half asleep, the small protesting sound that accompanied it quite unmistakably coming from the springs of Andrew’s bed, her drawled, ‘Umm, darling that was lovely,’ leaving Somer in no doubt as to the intimacy she had interrupted. But worse was to come. While she hesitated like a wooden puppet, still trying to absorb the enormity of what was happening, Somer heard Judith say, ‘Will you think about me while you’re making love to little miss goody two-shoes?’

‘Hardly.’ She barely recognised Andrew’s voice rich with self-satisfaction, replete with sexual pleasure, far different from the voice in which he spoke to her. ‘If anything I’ll think of daddy’s money and the future it’s going to buy for you and me one day. That’s always supposing I can bring myself to make love to her.’

‘Well, I think you’re going to have to take the plunge pretty soon, my darling, otherwise she’s going to get pretty suspicious. Virgin she might be, but she isn’t so innocent that she doesn’t know what she’s missing.’

There was a brief rustling movement and then Andrew groaned, his voice strangely hoarse as he gasped out, ‘Dear God, Jude, I don’t know if I can make love to her. She turns me off completely. She hasn’t got the faintest idea what to do to attract a man. If I hadn’t known about daddy’s money I’d never even have looked at her. It’s no wonder she’s still a virgin. I can’t imagine any real man ever wanting her…’

The scornful words dug into Somer’s heart like poison-tipped darts, unimaginable pain searing through her. She wanted to cry out her agony, to rush into the room and tear and claw at both of them. To…So no real man would want her, would he? If it was possible, knowing that Andrew thought that about her, hurt even more than the knowledge that he had only wanted her for her father’s money—that she had been the victim of a cruel and greedy plot.

‘Just wait until I’m married to her, then we can make plans. First a hotel in Barbados or somewhere else in the Caribbean, financed by daddy’s money, and then once she realises I don’t want her it shouldn’t be hard to persuade her to get a divorce. The hotel will be in my name of course, and just in case daddy proves difficult there’s always the threat of revealing just how inadequate his darling daughter is, if he doesn’t play ball. I can just see it now, can’t you? “Oil magnate’s daughter unable to arouse her husband.” No, we won’t have any trouble getting rid of her when the time comes. I like a woman who’s all woman, who knows how to please a man. A taste I share with our friend Lorimer, unless I’m mistaken,’ Andrew added, jealousy edging under his voice, sending fresh waves of agony searing through her body.

She ought to leave before they realised that she was listening, Somer thought emptily, but the MacDonald pride would not let her, and her Celtic heritage urged her to stay and hear all that there was to hear, to endure everything there was to endure, and so she stayed where she was, opening herself to the torrent of pain sweeping over her, bowing her head beneath it with Celtic stoic acceptance of the inevitability of pain, only her fiery MacDonald pride keeping her from crying it out loud.

‘Jealous,’ Judith teased huskily. ‘He was just chatting to me…’

‘Chatting to you? Are you trying to tell me he didn’t ask you out?’

‘Not this time.’

‘And if he did?’ The jealousy in Andrew’s voice increased.

‘Of come on darling, you can’t expect me to spend all my spare time alone while you’re wining and dining Miss Oil Wells. Like you just said I’m all woman, and I have my…needs…’

Feeling physically sick Somer stepped back blindly searching for the door. She couldn’t endure any more. She wouldn’t endure any more and she would prove to them both that they were both wrong about her; that she could attract a man physically; that she was just as desirable as Judith, every bit as much a woman, and for starters…

Barely giving herself time to think she gathered up all her courage and walked into the room, tugging off the small diamond solitaire and tossing it bitterly on to the bed, standing in full view of both startled occupants. Judith didn’t look quite as glamorous in the dawn light as she did in her full make-up, and in another half-dozen years she would begin to look blowsy, Somer decided with savage satisfaction, but it wasn’t the future that concerned her now, it was the present.

‘Somer!’ Andrew’s voice was startled and urgent, but Somer ignored it.

‘Don’t say a word,’ she warned him bitterly, ‘I’ve already heard enough. If I were you I’d concentrate on satisfying your…’ her lip curled derisively, ‘friend’s “needs”, that is if she still wants you now that I’m not going to provide the pair of you with a meal ticket for life. You’d got it all planned, hadn’t you, but you made one vital miscalculation. I’m obviously not as frigid as you assumed, Andrew, although it’s just as well I discovered the truth the way I did. I imagine it would have been very embarrassing for us both if I’d found you alone this morning. I came here hoping you would make love to me.’ God how it hurt to drag out that admission, but she was going to make herself face up to just how pitiful and contemptible she had been. ‘But it seems you have other prefer-ences…’ She let her eyes slide dismissively over Judith’s naked shoulders, watching the rage simmer in the other woman’s eyes. ‘I just hope you don’t find them too expensive,’ she added softly with a final flourish as she turned towards the door.

Andrew had gone a sickly pale colour while she spoke, but Judith was on the point of exploding with barely concealed anger. No doubt she had looked forward to a lifetime of luxury at her expense, Somer decided. She herself must be growing up quickly because it was easy to see that knowing she was cheating Somer must have added a decided fillip to her affair with Andrew. Now that fillip was gone, Judith just might turn her eyes in other directions; she even found herself hoping that she might, and that Andrew, who was plainly besotted with her, would suffer as she was now suffering.

Somer thought she would die with the mortification of it. Was there something wrong with her? Some vital element lacking? something that made her less feminine than other women, some deep female core that was simply missing from her make up. ‘No!’ The denial was torn from her throat and prompted her headlong flight from the scene of her humiliation. All her fierce MacDonald pride rose up inside her, a look in her eyes that her father would have recognised, her wild untamed Highland blood crying out for vengeance, for balm to soothe her aching pride. She had loved and tasted the bitter dregs of betrayal, she would never touch either again. But first she had to make good her initial promise to herself.

Not stopping to analyse her reaction to the scene she had just experienced Somer hurried on, knowing only that to remain still was to open herself to the same pain which had overwhelmed her in Andrew’s bedroom. Her first instinct to flee, to simply leave the hotel and go home, was lost beneath the tidal swell of a need to prove Andrew and Judith’s cruel comments wrong. She would find a man who wanted her and she would find him before her holiday was over.

Down in the foyer she saw that Judith was just about to take over the reception desk. Another girl, a stranger to Somer, was talking to one of the hotel guests, his broad shoulders bent towards her. Somer felt her heartbeat accelerate as she recognised the male outline of him. A real man, Judith had called Chase Lorimer; a very sensual man Somer would have called him; a man who would not think twice about taking what he wanted from life, a man who would teach her in one lesson far more about the game of love than a thousand fumbling encounters with boys as inexperienced as she was herself. Half a dozen steps away from the desk Somer halted. She could hear him asking the way to a small little-known local cove. The girl behind the reception desk frowned.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Lorimer,’ Somer heard her apologise, ‘I’m afraid I don’t know where it is, but if you’ll just bear with me for a moment I’ll try to find out.’ She glanced round to Judith who was deep in conversation with Andrew and Somer reacted blindly, urged on by the same fierce MacDonald pride which had buoyed her up earlier.

A little to her own surprise she heard herself saying coolly, ‘I know where the cove is.’ She saw Andrew’s head jerk up in recognition of her voice. ‘In fact…’ Chase Lorimer had turned round and was surveying her with that same lazy scrutiny she recognised from the previous day. ‘In fact I was planning to go there myself today. Perhaps we could travel there together? Do you have a car?’

‘Yes, how long will it take us to get there?’

Somer breathed shakily, unaware of how tense she had been until she heard him speak. There was only the cool anonymity of his voice to go on, and that did not give her any clues as to his reaction to her invitation. ‘Half an hour,’ she responded nervously.

Of course in the world he inhabited it was probably quite normal for women to issue the invitations; certainly he didn’t seem shocked or surprised that she had done so, his lounging stance by the reception desk barely altered as he turned to glance at her.

‘Can you be ready in an hour?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I normally have a swim before breakfast, and then we can meet down here when you’re ready.’

Out of the corner of her eye Somer could see Judith’s stunned, almost bitter expression, but she kept her own features unreadable as she acquiesced. So Chase Lorimer swam every morning; no doubt that explained what he was doing in the foyer so early, well before any of the other guests had put in an appearance.

Confirming their arrangements, Somer headed back to her own room to change her clothes and pack a bag to take with her, a fierce elation filling her. For once the fates seemed disposed to be on her side, and she derived a considerable amount of satisfaction from the looks she had seen on Andrew’s and Judith’s faces when Chase Lorimer accepted her invitation. She had just reached the lift when Judith slipped up behind her, tapping her contemptuously on the arm.

‘It won’t work, you know,’ she hissed tauntingly. ‘Oh, you might have forced Chase Lorimer to accept your company for a couple of hours but he’ll never take you to bed, not once he discovers the truth about you. Men like him don’t go for virgins, especially not plain, uninteresting ones like you. He’s a photographer, and rumour has it that every time he makes love to a woman he takes her photograph—for his own private collection.’

Somer battled against a sudden feeling of revulsion which pierced her newly won armour long enough for her to regret the impetuosity of what she had done, but with the next breath Judith swept aside her doubts, her voice mocking as she drawled, ‘Anyway, even if you did get him to take you to bed, it won’t make any difference to the way Andrew feels about you. It won’t make him jealous if that’s what you’re thinking. Andrew loves me.’

‘Does he?’ Somer was amazed at the cool control of her voice. ‘Funny, I had the impression that his first love was money, and as for making him jealous, I wouldn’t bother wasting my time. In fact seeing the two of you together has made it all much easier for me. I think I realised I’d made a mistake about Andrew, the moment I…’

‘Set eyes on Chase Lorimer?’ Judith suggested sneeringly. ‘For such an innocent you certainly know how to recognise quality goods when you see them, but Chase Lorimer won’t be interested in daddy’s money. He’s got a wealthy uncle of his own, and Chase is his sole heir.’

‘You seem to know a great deal about him. Did you have designs on him yourself?’

The lift door opened just as Judith raised her hand, and Somer stepped smartly into it, leaving the other girl outside. As she pressed the button for her floor she sank back against the metal wall, trying to compose herself. Her legs felt as weak as jelly, her breathing uneven. She had never in her life participated in the kind of row she had just had with Judith and it left a sour taste in her mouth. So Chase Lorimer photographed the women he made love to, did he? She shivered suddenly, stumbling out of the lift when it reached her floor. It isn’t too late to turn back, a tiny inner voice urged her, but to turn back meant admitting that every humiliating insult Judith and Andrew had thrown at her was true; that she didn’t have what it took to be a real woman, and she was determined to prove them wrong.

In her room she riffled through her suitcase until she found what she was looking for, a bikini she had bought in the south of France the previous summer when she was on holiday with Claire. Claire had persuaded her to buy it, and she had only worn it once, scandalised by the brevity of the pink and black striped cotton fabric. She tried it on in front of her mirror, refusing to flinch away from the sight of her barely clad body. The triangles of fabric that tied in bows over her hips revealed the slender length of her legs and far more of her than Scottish prudence thought wise, but how could she expect Chase Lorimer to take the bait unless it was presented to him temptingly? she asked herself with a sudden new cynicism. Judith wouldn’t have wavered for a moment and, in fact, would probably have dispensed with the top half of the bikini altogether. As Judith had told her Chase Lorimer was a man used to the company of beautiful women; he was also a man who was probably not used to a celibate existence, even for a short period of time, and he was alone at the hotel, now that the models had returned to London.

Carefully packing her beach bag with oil, towels, a paperback and other bits and pieces Somer firmly refused to listen to the tiny corner of her mind still pleading sanity, telling herself that there might never be an opportunity like this again. If she failed with Chase Lorimer…But she would not fail. He was a man who needed women and the look in his eyes yesterday had told her, despite everything that Judith and Andrew had said, that he had been interested enough to study her carefully.

Pulling on a pale pink cotton top and matching shorts, and throwing a casual button-through dress into her bag, Somer slipped on her mules, and headed for the door. A glance at her watch confirmed that she still had fifteen minutes to go before she was due to meet Chase. Just enough time to have a cup of coffee in the Continental coffee shop on the ground floor of the hotel.

Somer ordered a cup of coffee and some toast, trying to stem the growing protest of her nerves as the minutes ticked by. Eight o’clock came and went, and perspiration broke out on her skin. He wasn’t coming. He had changed his mind. She wanted to be sick, and kept imagining Judith’s gloating face. She had a good view of the foyer from where she was sitting, and she could see everyone who came in or left.

At ten past eight she conceded defeat. No doubt he had never meant to meet her, and had merely agreed out of politeness. Sick with humiliation and misery, Somer searched feverishly through her bag and withdrew her small make-up mirror, flicking it open to scrutinise her too-pale features and tell-tale bruised eyes. A surreptitious glance into the foyer assured her that at least Judith wasn’t there to witness her humiliation, although no doubt she would get to know about it and she and Andrew would laugh about it together. Too engrossed in the bitterness of her thoughts to hear the footsteps approaching. Somer tensed in shock as she felt the cool drift of lean fingers against her arm, whirling round, white-faced to confront the inscrutable features of Chase Lorimer.

‘So this is where you’re hiding. Have you forgotten about our date?’

He had changed into slim fitting off-white jeans, a black shirt open at the throat, the sleeves rolled back. A gold watch glinted through the dark hair on his arm, and Somer had the sudden panicky impression of a man who for all the trappings of modern-day sophistication was as much a pirate in his way as the inhabitants of this particular stretch of Jersey coastline had once been.

‘I…I hadn’t forgotten. I just didn’t see you in the foyer.’

‘I’ve just been out to put some petrol in the car, that’s why I’m a few minutes late. This yours?’ He picked up her bag, and stood waiting for her to join him, and Somer knew that now it was too late to listen to all those warning voices she had ignored so strenuously earlier on.

‘I hope you’ve brought plenty of suntan cream,’ he warned her. ‘I’ve been told that this particular cove is a sun-trap and quite remote. There’s no shop or cafe there.’

Did his warning hold another meaning? The suggestion that perhaps he regretted allowing her to come with him and that he would prefer to spend the day alone? As Somer knew from past experience, the path down to the beach was narrow and in places almost unsafe. She had gone there at Easter with Andrew, and although it had been a pleasant, warm day, she had come back feeling edgy and yes, disappointed. Because Andrew hadn’t made any attempt to make love to her, she acknowledged, filled with bitter resentment again. The cove was an almost idyllic place for lovers; secluded; sheltered, not overlooked by houses or roads.

‘Here we are.’ She came to an abrupt halt as Chase Lorimer stopped beside a gleaming black Porsche with the top folded back. ‘Are you going to wear your hat, or shall I put it in the boot?’

‘I…in the boot please,’ Somer mumbled handing it over to him and then snatching her fingers back as though they had been burned the moment they came into contact with his. It had been the briefest contact imaginable and yet she had shied away from it like a…like a terrified virgin, she castigated herself mentally. How on earth did she expect him to make love to her when she recoiled from even the slightest physical contact with him?

‘I’ve had the hotel pack us up some lunch. I take it you do plan to spend most of the day there? There’s no public transport there…’

And by inviting herself to join him as his guide, she had also invited herself to be his companion for the day, or as much of it as he chose to share with her, Somer acknowledged. ‘I’m in your hands completely,’ she responded daringly, holding her breath and looking away when she felt him move towards her, but he stretched past her, opening the passenger door, and she slid inside the car on shaky legs, wondering if there was ever going to come a time when she felt completely at ease in the company of men like Chase Lorimer, able to flirt and tease them in the way that seemed second nature to the Judiths and Claires of this world.

‘It all depends how long it takes me to take the photographs I need,’ Chase told her as he slid into his own seat and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. ‘I want to take some background shots to use in the studio, just in case any of the work I’ve already done doesn’t work out. Ready?’

Somer nodded, carefully giving him instructions as to their route as he turned out on to the road that led away from the hotel.

‘Left here, is it?’ he checked once they gained the main road. Somer nodded, her hand going up to secure her hair, already thoroughly tousled from their short drive. If she’d known he was driving an open-topped car she would have tied it back with a ribbon, but it was too late to do anything about it now, other than to try and keep it out of her eyes.

‘Leave it,’ Chase ordered softly when she made another bid to capture the errant strands. ‘With it loose and tousled like that you look the epitome of wanton innocence. Is it naturally that colour?’

‘Yes.’ Somer’s cheeks stung with bright colour.

‘No need to look so outraged, most models tint theirs, these days, and it isn’t often you see someone with true blue-black hair and such a pale skin. Coupled with your eyes, I’d say that was a Celtic heritage, Irish perhaps?’

‘Scots,’ she corrected him briefly. This man knew far too much about her sex, far, far too much, and she shivered slightly despite the growing heat of the sun. What had she committed herself to? Why had she allowed her fiendish MacDonald pride to hold sway the way she had? She had been warned on many occasions by her father to treat the MacDonald curse carefully, but she had ignored him, and now she was seated in this car with this stranger heading for a remote beach where she had planned that he would make love to her.

What was the matter with her? Was she really going to back out now? Coward, coward, an inner voice mocked her. You haven’t got the guts to go through with it. I have, Somer gritted mentally, I have got the guts and I shall, I shall.

‘You’re looking very serious, something on your mind? Second thoughts about spending the day with me perhaps?’

Somer glanced in shocked response into Chase’s shuttered face. His sunglasses hid his expression from her, her heart pounding in frightened reaction to his astute perception.

‘No…’

‘You don’t sound very sure. Don’t worry about it, whatever you might have heard to the contrary, I don’t go in for rape. I don’t need to,’ he told her wryly, ‘and now that we’ve got that out of the way how about telling me what you’re doing here on holiday alone.’

‘I…I was going to come with my boyfriend, but…but we had a row and…’

‘And now you’re looking for a substitute,’ he suggested drily. ‘Well why not? Strange, from the tragic look on your face earlier this morning, I thought the roof had fallen in on you at least. You looked like a tormented lost kitten whom someone had kicked once too often,’ he mocked, smiling into her pale, stunned face.

‘You felt sorry for me?’ Somer blurted out. ‘Is that why…’

‘I let you pick me up?’ he offered, smiling sardonically at her. ‘Not entirely, I’m no altruist. If you’d been forty and plain I dare say I wouldn’t have felt anything like as sympathetic. I suppose I should have guessed it was all down to some man. You’re just the right age for emotional hysterics, aren’t you? How old are you?’

‘Eighteen.’ She didn’t even consider lying, but flinched when his fingers tightened momentarily on the steering wheel and he murmured mock piously, ‘Dear God, as young as that. I’m twenty-eight—a whole generation older—or are you going to tell me you prefer older men?’

‘My tastes are pretty catholic,’ Somer retorted, her chin jutting defiantly under his mockery. ‘In everything.’

There was a moment’s silence, and when he glanced at her again there was no humour etched against the curling mouth, only a grim appreciation of her closing remark.

‘Is that so?’ he drawled. ‘Well then it looks like we’re going to have an enlightening day. I would have thought that eighteen wasn’t old enough to have tasted all the pleasures life has to offer, but it seems that I’m wrong, and a girl like you wouldn’t be short of tutors. That pseudo air of innocence must have deceived more than one member of my sex in the past. How many lovers have you had, just as a matter of interest, or don’t you bother to count any longer?’

Half appalled by the direction the conversation had taken, Somer reminded herself that to tell the truth at this stage would probably wreck all her plans. Her mouth opened and almost without her having to think about it, she was saying flippantly, ‘Why do you want to know? Are you hoping to become one of them?’ She had a moment in which to be horrified by the cheap provocation of her remark and then Chase was saying smoothly, ‘So that’s your game, is it? Well, time alone will tell, won’t it? You know the odds better than I do, and you’ve got all day to persuade me that it might be worth my while, haven’t you?’

‘Turn right here,’ Somer interrupted shakily. The conversation had taken a turn she had never envisaged, but surely the fates were playing into her hands once again in allowing her to deceive Chase Lorimer into believing that she was sexually experienced, and that by inviting herself to spend the day with him, she was inviting him to make love to her?

But for how long could she continue to deceive him? Cold reality intruded. Surely he would know the minute he touched her that she had been lying? Was she trying to give herself an excuse to back out again, the voice of her MacDonald pride demanded relentlessly. Didn’t she have the guts to go through with it?

They were driving down a narrow country lane, empty of traffic, a dazzling blue carpet melting into the horizon in the distance.

Directing Chase from memory, Somer heaved a faint sigh of relief when they turned into the small car park at the top of the cliff. The path she remembered was indicated by a small gate in the perimeter of the dusty clifftop.

‘Just how steep is this path?’ Chase asked when they were out of the car.

‘Very,’ Somer told him.

‘Umm, then I’d better make two journeys. I don’t want to risk damaging my camera, but at least we should have the place to ourselves, if it’s as inaccessible as all that. Not the spot to take the kids, I take it?’

‘Not unless they’re the four-legged variety,’ Somer responded humorously, catching the mobile lift of his eyebrows as Chase registered her comment.

‘A sense of humour as well. My, my, things are looking up. Can you manage your own stuff, or…?’

‘I can manage it.’

‘Ah yes, I forgot you’re a product of a new generation aren’t you; a girl who probably imbibed liberation with her mother’s milk. Just as a matter of interest, what do your parents think of your present life-style?’

‘My mother’s dead,’ Somer said shortly, ‘and my father…’

‘Is an ex-sixties hippy who approves of free love and has brought up his daughter to share his views. Well, who am I to complain?’ He shrugged broad shoulders and went to the boot of the car, levering it open.

‘Here you are. You can start down if you like, I’ll get my stuff together. Gorgeous day,’ he added, stretching with the same languorous movement she had noticed the previous day. ‘You’ll have to watch that skin of yours. You’ll find a bad case of sunburn will cramp your style very effectively.’

Her face flushed, Somer grabbed her bag from him and headed for the cliff. The hot weather had dried out the path, clouds of dust and small pebbles were disturbed by her steady progression downwards. Several times she had to grab hold of tussocks of grass to prevent herself from falling and when she eventually reached the small cove Somer let out a sigh of relief.

The cove was every bit as attractive as she remembered, guarded on three sides by the cliffs and on the fourth by the sea. There was no one else in sight, the sand smooth and unmarked, the tide lapping gently at the soft golden sand. Slipping off her mules Somer let her toes curl luxuriously into the sun-warmed fine grains, feeling the tension ease out of her as she breathed in the clear, fresh air, only to tense up again as she heard sounds of movement behind her, and turned just in time to see Chase depositing several pieces of equipment on a small tarpaulin behind her.

‘Umm, we really have got the place to ourselves, haven’t we,’ he commented as he headed back for the path. ‘I shan’t be long—why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I’m gone?’ he mocked her. ‘I’m sure a freethinking, modern liberationist like yourself feels more at home on the nudist beaches of the continental holiday resorts than the family ones of Jersey, but no one’s going to see you if you strip off here. I might even join you.’

With his last threat ringing in her ears, Somer turned her back on him, leaving him to return to his car while she wandered over to the tide-line, watching the small waves lapping at the sand, gradually receding as the tide went out.

By the time Chase finally returned from his second journey, her nerves were coiled as tightly as an overwound spring and she was bitterly regretting her foolhardiness in coming with him, but something stronger than her fear, stronger than her natural reluctance to experiment with what every instinct told her should be a beautiful and precious moment in her life, not something done in anger and a mood of bitter resentment, overrode everything else, urging her to stick to her original plan drowning out all he other warning voices clamouring for attention, telling her that she must seize the moment and make the most of it.

Almost defiantly she retraced her footsteps along the beach, coming to a standstill several feet away from Chase’s equipment. He was standing with his back to her, opening a zipped bag from which he removed a towel, dropping it on the beach, and then glancing at his watch. ‘I can’t do any work for a couple of hours yet, the angle of the sun isn’t right. I’m going for a swim, want to join me?’

‘Not yet. I want to sunbathe first.’

His hand went to the buttons on his shirt, casually flicking them open, whilst Somer watched, almost transfixed, only able to draw her eyes away when the mat of dark hair shadowing his skin was finally revealed. A curious sensation of weakness swept over her, and she shivered, suddenly caught up in a mental vision of what it would be like to feel Chase’s body against her own; to smooth her fingertips through that dark arrowing of hair, her naked breasts pressed close to his skin. She closed her eyes, and then opened them again to find that Chase had removed both shirt and jeans and was standing in front of her, studying her with a frown, his only covering a brief pair of swimming shorts, the white fabric contrasting starkly with his deep tan. His body was as leanly muscular as she had imagined, but far more sleekly powerful, the sight of it sending frissons of awareness shuddering through her as she felt the power of his raw masculinity.

She watched him lope down to the water’s edge and beyond until he was swimming strongly away from her. Only then did she drag her eyes away from the clean lines of his body, her fingers trembling as she pulled off her tee-shirt and shorts to reveal the scanty bikini she was wearing underneath.

She had just finished carefully anointing her skin with suntan lotion when Chase came striding towards her. Moisture glinting on his skin, tiny droplets running down over his chest, tangling in the dark hair. He raised one hand, smoothing his tangled hair back off his forehead, and grinned down at her, his eyes narrowing as he took in the brevity of her bikini, coming to stand over her, making her feel like a slave girl cowering before the pirate who had stolen her away.

A droplet of water splashed from his arm on to the vulnerable skin between her breasts making her jump. Almost instantly the jade eyes darkened and Chase bent down, swift as a hawk to the lure, his tongue brushing roughly against the curves of her breasts as it dipped into the valley between and found the errant drop of moisture. At the touch of his tongue a thousand emotions assailed her; her body both hot and cold at the same time, tense and feverish as she tried to assimilate her response to his brief caress.

‘You’re trembling.’ His fingers cupped the shoulder nearest to him and he lifted his head to frown.

‘I…it was just the cold water,’ Somer lied, knowing she was abandoning her last opportunity to draw back and tell him the truth. ‘It made me shiver.’

‘Umm. You’re all goosebumps.’ His thumb trailed lightly down the tender underside of her arm, increasing the frissons of awareness racing under her skin. ‘Why don’t you take this off? After all there’s no one to see but me.’ His free hand tugged at the straps of her bikini top, gently pulling them loose.

‘No…I…I don’t want to burn,’ Somer protested, knowing with fatalistic intuition that he wasn’t going to listen to her as his fingers found the front fastening of her bikini and easily unclipped it. His eyes held hers in some sort of magnetic spell as his fingers brushed aside the brief triangles of cotton and his hands, warm and slightly work-roughened, cupped the smooth fullness of her breasts.

‘Umm. Nice.’ His fingers spanned the full warmth of her, the intimacy of his touch stealing away her breath and making her heart pound frantically. Chase freed one breast, his eyes never leaving her face as he reached for her discarded suntan lotion, slowly uncapping it. ‘Put some in my hand,’ he ordered softly. Panic seared through her, and she struggled against both it and a craven impulse to push his hand away and cover her breasts from him. ‘What do you want it for?’ How breathy, and in some way provocative her voice sounded, almost unfamiliar to her own ears.

‘I’m going to make sure you don’t burn,’ he returned lazily. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’

A thousand denials sprang to mind, but he was watching her too closely. Somer moistened her dry lips, flicking round them with the tip of her tongue, startled by the way his pupils dilated following the brief movement. Having gone so far it would be folly to pull back now. This was what she wanted, she reminded herself, but somehow she had just never envisioned this particular intimacy. She had wanted Chase to make love to her but…

Too confused to deal lucidly with all the conflicting emotions rioting through her she weakly did as he asked, pouring some of the creamy lotion into his open palm, and then watching like someone hypnotised as he transferred the cream to her breast, smoothing it in with long, languorous stokes that explored and moulded the shape of her, slowly circling her breast until she was aware of nothing apart from the knowing touch of his fingers. A tight coiling feeling built up inside her; an awareness of her breasts she had never known before, her nipples tingling and aching in a way that was both alien and frightening, the soft pink aureoles springing to life in a way that was openly provocative.

‘No wonder so many of my sex have found you irresistible,’ Chase marvelled huskily, his eyes no longer on her face but resting instead on the quivering peaks he was still anointing. ‘This…’ his thumb brushed lightly over one tormentingly erect nipple, ‘is incitement enough for a saint, never mind a mere male. I had planned to sunbathe a little myself, but perhaps another cold dip is more in order.’ He squeezed more lotion into his other hand, reaching towards her as he kneeled at her side, lowering his head towards her breast.

Somer closed her eyes in mute agony at the first brush of his tongue against her nipple, waves of shame coursing through her at the first wanton stirrings of response springing to life inside her. This was something she had not bargained for. She wanted to lose her virginity but she had never dreamed she would feel like this; that she would experience this stomach-twisting, yearning need to arch blindly beneath the rough lash of his tongue; to capture his dark head and hold it against her breast, savouring the pleasure that was almost pain as his tongue ceased its torment and his lips took its place tugging gently until she was lost in a feverish surge of pleasure that breached every virginal defence.

‘Later,’ Chase muttered as he released her breast and lifted himself away from her. ‘I’ve got work to do. Remember?’

Flushed and feverish, aching with tormenting desire So-mer could only stare up at him, appalled by what was happening to her. She had desired Andrew of course, but that desire was a tepid, insignificant emotion when compared with what she had just experienced. The hot sun heated her skin as Chase drew away, and far from wanting to cover her breasts any more, Somer admitted that she wanted him to look at her; to desire her; to touch her and kiss her until she felt that pulsing, jerky pleasure pound through her body.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Chase warned huskily, his voice intruding on her private daydream. ‘You look like an innocent girl who’s just discovered the magic of sex and wants to learn more. Much, much more.’

‘I am and I do.’ The admission hovered on her lips only to be forced back. What good would it do now to admit that she was a virgin? Chase would probably turn from her in disgust just as Andrew had done. Scarcely admitted, but there at the back of her mind was the knowledge that she no longer wanted him to make love to her simply because she wanted to rid herself of the burden of her virginity. She wanted him as well. As Chase moved away she arched seductively back on her towel, knowing with some deep feminine instinct that his eyes would be drawn to the full curves of her breasts still taut from his lovemaking. As he started to turn away she ran her hand lightly up over her body, her eyes slumberous and heavy with desire.

‘Try and tempt me, would you?’ Chase growled. ‘Well, there’s a cure for that.’

Before she could stop him he scooped her up in his arms, striding out into the sea with her, until he was standing chest high in the waves.

Somer shrieked protestingly as he let her go, startled by the impact of the cold sea water against her skin, but swimming away as agilely as an eel once she had recovered from the shock. She had learned to swim almost before she could walk and was used to the cold water of the North Sea. As she swam away Chase came after her, grabbing her ankle and tugging her down below the water, following her up to the surface, his hands grasping her waist as he pulled her hard against him, stroking her mouth with his tongue. ‘Mmm. You taste of salt.’

‘So do you,’ Somer responded daringly, letting her own tongue repeat the caress and then breaking away to swim back to the shore. Chase didn’t follow her, and gradually as she watched him Somer felt her pulse-rate subside to normal.

He followed her on to the beach five minutes later, and lay down beside her on his towel, letting the sun dry the moisture from his skin, but not making any move to touch her.

Suddenly sleepy after the physical exercise and mental strain of the morning Somer rolled over on to her stomach, burying her face in her hands. Gradually she felt the tension easing out of her body. She closed her eyes, dimly aware of firm sure hands moving over her back, inducing a delicious sensation of lethargy that made her want to stretch and curl her body like a small cat, but before she could do so sleep claimed her.

Finishing his self-imposed task Chase Lorimer studied the female form stretched out beside him. Very, very enticing; there had been a moment earlier on when he had come dangerously close to losing his self-control. He had thought the first time he saw her in the lift that she was still a child, shy and nervous. How wrong he had been! He grimaced faintly to himself. He ought to be used to it by now; after all she wouldn’t be the first female to pick him up thinking she was taking the first step up the ladder to becoming a top model. A touch of contempt darkened his eyes, his expression faintly bleak. Funny, but this time it really hurt.

Shrugging mentally he got to his feet, telling himself sardonically that he was a fool to let himself get involved, but he knew he wanted her; against all logic and common sense maybe, but still he wanted her. But before he took her he would lay it on the line for her, tell her that no way was making love with him the equivalent of the modelling world’s casting couch. He frowned as he glanced down at her. Lying like that with her head pillowed in her arms she looked like a child, innocent, untouched. He grimaced faintly. He was getting far too sentimental, surely life with Laura had taught him that. He had believed himself in love with her and her with him, but all she had wanted was to use him. She had laughed at him when he proposed marriage, and inflicted a painful blow to his twenty-two-year-old ego, but the tables were turned now; now that she was a fading star, a model who was finding it more and more difficult to get assignments, who needed all the tricks a clever photographer could use to preserve the illusion of youth; who at thirty betrayed in her face the way she had lived—and loved, if you could call the casual sexual encounters she indulged in, that. Now Laura wanted to marry him, especially now that she knew that he was his uncle’s heir, but he wasn’t twenty-two any longer; he had grown older and wiser; there had been far too many Lauras in his life for him to be deceived.

As he glanced down at Somer again his eyes were tinged with sadness and a hint of self-contempt, and here was another. A potential Laura, young enough to have the bloom still on her skin and the illusion of innocence but in reality…Picking up his equipment he headed for one end of the beach and soon became engrossed in his self-imposed task, glancing up only once to stare at the sleeping figure.