Читать книгу His Blackmailed Bride - Сандра Мартон, Sandra Marton - Страница 7
ОглавлениеPAIGE shivered as the glass doors swung shut behind her. The last time she’d been here was with Alan. Roses and honeysuckle had perfumed the air then. Now it smelled of the sea that beat relentlessly at the sand below the bluff. Music spilled faintly from the closed ballroom, a soft accompaniment to the distant pound of the surf. A full moon lit the terrace, but as Paige lifted her eyes to the stranger’s face a bank of clouds scudded across the sky, plunging everything into darkness.
Every instinct told her to pull free of the arm encircling her waist and hurry back into the lighted warmth of the clubhouse, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground. This is insanity, she thought, and she turned to say she was leaving. But the man beside her spoke first.
‘Take a deep breath.’
Paige shook her head. ‘I’m all right now. I…’
She felt the pressure of his hand. ‘Do it,’ he said curtly. ‘Go on. Inhale.’
It was a command, not a suggestion. She nodded and did as he’d said, drawing the cool air deep into her lungs.
‘Better?’
She nodded again. ‘Yes. Much better. Thank you for your…’
‘Don’t talk,’ he said. ‘Just take another breath.’
She inhaled again and told herself there was nothing to be concerned about. She was sure she’d turned as pale as a sheet in that stuffy ballroom. He’d noticed, and he’d come to her assistance. He was just being a Good Samaritan. Anything else was the result of an over-active imagination.
‘I… I’m fine now,’ she said. ‘And I’m terribly sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.’
‘It was no trouble at all.’ The pressure of his hand urged her to turn towards him. ‘In fact, you might say you did me a favour.’
‘I did?’ Was there a smile in his voice? If only she could see his face…
He laughed softly. ‘I’ve always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress, Juliet.’ His hand touched her cheek. ‘That is your name tonight, isn’t it?’
‘I… yes, yes, that’s right,’ Paige said quickly. ‘And I really have to go inside now. My fiancé…’
His fingers closed on her hand. ‘I thought I saw something sparkling on your finger. Tell me, Juliet—where is he? Your fiancé, I mean.’
‘He… he’s in the ballroom, waiting for me. He… What are you doing?’ she asked, even though the answer was obvious. He had shrugged free of his dinner jacket and was draping it over her shoulders.
‘You’re cold,’ he said, lifting the curtain of pale hair from her shoulders and settling it over the jacket. ‘Your hand’s like ice.’
‘I’m not,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m fine. I…’
‘Don’t argue with me,’ he said as he drew the lapels together.
No one argued with this man, Paige thought suddenly. No one would dare. His fingers brushed against her skin, his thumbs skimming her throat, lingering against the hollows above her collarbone. She wondered if he could feel the quick leap of blood that pulsed beneath his touch, and a tremor went through her.
‘Maybe I am a little chilly,’ she said, and she gave a forced laugh. ‘It’s cold out here, isn’t it? It’s the ocean, I guess. Although, of course, it’s autumn…’
Damn! She was babbling like a fool. She sounded, she thought, like a nervous schoolgirl. And that was exactly how she felt—like a teenager at her first dance, alone with a boy she had a crush on. But it was a man beside her in the darkness, not a boy, a man whose name she didn’t know. What are you doing here, Paige?
‘Walk with me,’ he said, clasping her hand in his.
‘I can’t,’ she said, but he was already leading her along the path that bordered the garden. ‘Please…’
‘Just for a few minutes.’
She felt as if she were caught in a dream, her only link to reality the faint music drifting from the lighted ballroom. The man beside her was tall, taller than she’d thought. Even in high-heeled sandals, Paige reached only to his shoulder. His jacket hung about her like a cloak, the shoulders and sleeves trailing as if she were a child playing at dressing up. He’d raised the collar when he slipped it around her, and the soft wool brushed against her cheek. It felt warm to the touch, as if it still carried the heat of his body. And she could smell his scent on the fabric, that same cologne she’d noticed earlier, mixed with something much more basic and sensual. It was a clean, masculine odour that was his alone.
For one swift beat of her heart, Paige closed her eyes and breathed it in, letting the smell and the heat of him surround her. Then, with a rush, her lashes flew open. What was she doing? Here she was, traipsing along in the dark beside a man she didn’t know, heart racing, throat dry, never once thinking of Alan or the engagement ring on her finger or the wedding vows she’d take in three days’ time…
His hand clasped hers more tightly. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ he said softly.
She managed another forced laugh. ‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I…’
‘You are. I can feel your pulse racing.’ He stopped and turned towards her, his fingers skimming the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. ‘Your heart’s beating like a frightened rabbit’s.’
Paige took a hurried step back. ‘I… I have to go back now,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Thanks for your jacket. Let me…’
His hand tightened on her wrist. ‘Don’t go,’ he said. His voice was low and husky.
Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. ‘I must,’ she said quickly. ‘My fiancé…’
The man shook his head in a gesture of impatience. ‘The hell with your fiancé,’ he said roughly. ‘Stay here, with me.’
His hands cupped her face, tilting it up to him. There was a ring on his finger, an old one, set with a ruby. The blood-red stone captured the pale moonlight and warmed it with a sparkling fire.
She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. His features were in shadow but Paige knew them, just as she knew that she had known this man since the beginning of for ever, that she had belonged to him in another time, in another eternity. His head bent to hers, and she closed her eyes, waiting, waiting…
There was a sound in the silent darkness. The wind sighing through the trees or a wave building against the shore below—she wasn’t sure—but it was enough to bring her to her senses.
‘I must go back,’ she said, and she pulled away from him. ‘I’m grateful for your help. I… I don’t know what happened to me in there…’
The brave words died as he moved towards her. ‘You know what happened,’ he said.
There was something in his voice, a sense of certainty, that both thrilled and terrified her. She knew that he wasn’t referring to her sudden dizziness. He meant that hushed moment of eternity they had shared—and she wasn’t going to talk about that. Not now, not ever—and certainly not with him.
‘You’re right,’ she said quickly, ‘I do know. I felt sick, that’s all. It was warm in the ballroom. And crowded. And…’
She gasped as his hands slid to her shoulders and bit into her flesh. ‘Don’t lie to me, Juliet.’
‘I’m not lying. I…’
‘I’ve been watching you all evening.’
Her skin tingled beneath the heat of his fingers. ‘What are you talking about?’
He laughed softly. ‘Are we going to play games? You know I’ve been watching you.’
She felt a sudden rush of heat flood her cheeks. Thank God for the darkness, she thought.
‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘I…’
His hands clasped her more tightly. ‘You were watching me, too,’ he said, slowly drawing her towards him.
Paige’s denial was swift. ‘I wasn’t. I never noticed you at all until you offered to help me.’
‘Who were you looking for when you came into the ballroom, Juliet?’ She saw the white flash of his teeth. ‘Your fiancé?’
‘Yes, my fiancé,’ she said quickly, grasping the word as if it would save her from whatever might come next, ‘that’s right. And he’s probably looking for me right now. He…’
‘Hell, he should have been with you all evening.’ His hands moved over her shoulders. ‘I’d have been, if you belonged to me.’
‘I don’t belong to anyone. And he was waiting. I mean, I just didn’t see him right away. I…’
He laughed softly. ‘But you saw me.’ His hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, and encircled her wrists. ‘And then the crowd closed in and I lost sight of you. Is that when your Romeo found you?’
Paige’s lips felt parched. Carefully, she ran the tip of her tongue over them.
‘Yes. And now I really have to go back to him. I…’
‘The next time I saw you, you were dancing with an older man.’ He lifted her hands between them and held them against his chest. ‘It wasn’t Romeo.’
It was a statement, not a question. Despite herself, Paige smiled. ‘No.’
He nodded. ‘Your father, I thought. Or a favourite uncle.’
‘My father,’ she said. ‘I saw you watching us. I…’
The admission was out before she had time to stop it. Any hope Paige had that it might slip by vanished when she heard the stranger’s softly triumphant laugh.
‘But you said you hadn’t noticed me at all, Juliet.’
‘That’s not my name,’ she said desperately. ‘That’s fantasy…’
His arms slid around her. ‘This is a night of fantasy,’ he whispered. ‘Anything can happen on a night like this.’ Slowly, he drew her closer to him. ‘You can even stay here and dance with me.’
The music drifting from the ballroom had turned slow and dreamlike. Paige put her hands on his chest as he began to move to its faint rhythm.
‘Don’t, please…’ She stood stiffly within his arms, fighting against the desire to melt against him, and then she drew in her breath. A night of fantasy, he’d said, and that was what this was, wasn’t it? Harmless fantasy. The stuff of dreams. Her heart turned over. ‘All right,’ she whispered. ‘Just one dance…’
‘One dance,’ he said easily. ‘And then we’ll do whatever you want.’
We’ll do whatever you want… Was there a threat in the simple words? No, not a threat, Paige told herself as they began to move across the flagstones. His words held something more. An assurance, a conviction that he knew what she wanted, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself yet.
The stranger could think what he liked. One dance with him—that was all—and then she’d return to Alan’s side. And she’d tell Alan about all this in a week or two, tell him about the bit of foolishness that had taken hold of her on this night three days before their wedding. They would laugh about it, just as they’d laughed about the bachelor party Alan’s groomsmen had planned for tomorrow evening at a club known for its scantily clad barmaids.
‘A rite of passage,’ Alan called it, and that was what tonight was, wasn’t it? This dance with a stranger was just one last taste of freedom, and Alan would smile when she told him about it and…
Who was she kidding? She could never tell Alan. She could never tell anyone. This was insanity. Dangerous insanity. It wasn’t a last fling or an innocent rite of passage…
The man drew her closer. ‘Are your eyes really the colour of spring violets?’
His voice, soft and husky, moved over her like a velvet caress. In the heavy silence of the night, Paige could hear the quick tumble of her heart.
‘Who are you?’ she asked breathlessly.
He laughed softly. ‘You know who I am, Juliet. I’m the man who’s wanted to make love to you all night.’
The admission stole her breath away. She stumbled and he caught her to him, holding her tightly against the hardness of his body.
‘Don’t,’ she whispered, but, even as she said the word, she felt herself melting against him. Her hands spread against his chest; she felt the thudding beat of his heart beneath her palms.
‘Juliet…’
A door slammed behind them. There was a sudden shriek of laughter, and the sound of feet on the gravel path. Paige’s return to reality was swift. Her hands balled into fists and pressed against him.
‘Let me go,’ she said in a desperate whisper. ‘Please…’
His hand caught hers. ‘Come with me,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Are you crazy? My fiancé…’
‘I don’t give a damn about your fiancé. And neither do you. Hell, if he mattered, you wouldn’t be here with me.’
His words sent a chill through her. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. He means everything to me. He…’
‘Then you have nothing to fear by coming with me, do you?’ His fingers wove through hers. ‘Besides, if someone were to find us here, they might come to the wrong conclusion.’
She wanted to tell him that Alan would understand, but it was a hope, not a certainty. The footsteps and the laughter were growing closer. The man sensed her hesitancy and clasped her hand more tightly in his.
‘We’ll finish our dance,’ he said as he drew her after him. ‘Down there, on the beach. And then, if that’s what you want, I’ll return you to your Romeo.’
It was lunacy to follow him along the narrow gravel path that led down the bluff. Paige told herself that, even as she walked alongside him. It was lunacy to kick off her sandals and step into his waiting arms when her feet touched the sand. But it felt wonderful to let herself lean into his embrace and move in rhythm with the music. Moments passed, and she closed her eyes and put her head against his shoulder. When his lips brushed her hair, it seemed so right that she made no objection.
‘Juliet,’ he whispered.
Paige lifted her head slowly. The stranger’s hand moved up her back, to the nape of her neck, and his fingers twined in her hair.
‘Juliet,’ he said again, and, as the moon escaped the pursuing clouds and lit his face, her eyes filled with him, drinking in the features she had only glimpsed until now. His nose was narrow, his mouth hard, the bottom lip full and sensual. His eyes glittered behind the mask. Blue, she thought, while her heart drummed in her chest. Blue, or perhaps green…
As if he were reading her mind, he reached up and slowly pulled the black domino from his face. Her breathing quickened as he cast it aside and gazed at her. His eyes were a piercing aquamarine, the colour of the summer sea, deep-set and thickly lashed.
‘Now it’s your turn,’ he murmured.
Paige trembled as he reached towards her. His fingers closed on the silver mask, and she held her breath as he untied it. Slowly, patiently, he eased it from her, and she knew she had never felt as naked in a man’s arms as she felt at this moment. His eyes moving over her unmasked face were more intimate a caress than any she had ever experienced. God, what was happening to her?
‘I knew your eyes were the colour of violets,’ he said, smiling down at her. His voice thickened. ‘You’re beautiful, Juliet.’
His hand cupped her face. He was going to kiss her, she thought. She had to stop him…
Paige swayed as her lashes fell to her cheeks. What was the sense of pretending? She wanted him to kiss her. She knew it—and the stranger knew it. He’d been making love to her all night, first in the ballroom, then on the terrace, and now—now he was going to kiss her. The kiss would end the fantasy and bring back reality. It would put a stop to all this foolishness. She’d step back and apologise for letting things get out of hand and…
His mouth brushed against hers, the kiss as light as blown spray from the ocean.
‘A flower,’ he whispered as his arms curved around her. ‘Your mouth is a flower that tastes of nectar as sweet as honey.’ His head bent to hers and he kissed her again, the press of his mouth firmer, the kiss longer. When at last he lifted his head, Paige was breathless. ‘So sweet,’ he said, ‘so wonderful…’
‘Kiss me again,’ she sighed.
His eyes changed, darkened to the colour of the ocean depths, and he gathered her to him. When his mouth dropped to hers, his lips were hungry and demanded surrender, and she gave it willingly. Her mouth softened beneath his, parted, and with a sound that was half-growl, half-triumph, he pulled her against him, moulding her body to his. Her fingers curled into the silky hair at the back of his head as his tongue touched her mouth with flame.
‘I want to make love to you,’ he whispered, drawing away only enough so he could look into her flushed face.
Some last link of reality made her shake her head.
‘No,’ she said, ‘I can’t…’
His hand slid to her breast, and she gasped as she felt the heat of his caress through the thin silk bodice.
‘You want me. I know you do.’
‘I can’t,’ she said again. ‘You must let me go. I…’
‘Go where?’ he demanded. ‘Back to your Romeo?’
‘Yes,’ she said, shuddering as his hand moved over her, ‘yes, my fiancé… Please, don’t…’
‘Does he make you feel the way I do?’ His mouth dipped to hers again, searing her with his passion, branding her with desire. He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. ‘Does he?’ he demanded.
Forgive me, Alan, she thought. ‘No,’ she said in a whisper so low that she hoped only the ocean would hear it. His smile was a trophy of her submission, but before he could kiss her again Paige put her hands against his chest and struggled in his embrace. ‘But I’m not going to do this,’ she said. ‘I…’
‘You don’t want him, Juliet. You want me. You want me to make love to you, here, on the beach.’
‘No,’ she whispered, but even she could hear the lie trapped in the word. ‘No,’ she said again, but his arms were holding her tightly, and the stars were beginning to swirl all around her. The moon had climbed higher, casting a silver highway across the black water and a billion stars glittered in the sky. They were the last people on Earth, and love was an imperative. A tremor raced through her. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘please…’
‘Please, what?’ he said, and his lips brushed hers. ‘Tell me what you want me to do, Juliet. Show me.’
Her head fell back as his lips found her throat, and she moaned softly as she felt the silky glide of his tongue caress her skin. He was bending her back over his arm, lowering her to the sand, and it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted, he was all she wanted, he was everything…
‘… are you out here?’
No! The voice was recognisable, even if the words were muffled by the surf. Paige stiffened in the stranger’s arms.
‘It’s my mother!’
Her whisper was frantic. He said nothing, and she thought he hadn’t understood her. Then she heard his stifled oath and felt the sudden tension in his muscles.
‘Keep quiet and she’ll go away,’ he murmured against her cheek.
‘She won’t do that,’ Paige whispered. ‘Let me go—please.’
His eyes burned into hers. ‘Only if you swear you’ll come back to me.’
Paige shook her head. ‘No, no, I can’t. I…’
‘… are you?’ came her mother’s voice.
‘She’s going to come down here,’ Paige said in a desperate whisper. ‘Let go of me, I beg you.’
His hands bound her to him. ‘Tell me you’ll come back,’ he said fiercely.
‘I can’t. I…’ Paige looked up. Her mother stood silhouetted at the head of the path that led down to the beach. ‘All right,’ she said breathlessly. ‘All right, I’ll come back.’
His hands clasped her shoulders, biting into her flesh until she winced. ‘Swear it,’ he said in an urgent whisper. ‘Swear it, or I’ll come with you now. I’ll tell your mother and your Romeo that you’re mine tonight.’
‘I’m not. I…’
His mouth took hers in a hard, swift kiss that stole her breath away. ‘Don’t lie to yourself, Juliet. I don’t understand it, either, but I know sure as hell that something’s happened. And I’m damned if I’m going to let you walk out of my life until I figure it out. Do you understand?’
Paige’s heart tumbled crazily. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, and an overwhelming sense of joy filled her. ‘Yes,’ she said again, and then she heard her mother’s footsteps on the gravel. She touched the man’s cheek and then stepped swiftly on to the path. ‘I’m here, Mother,’ she called.
‘For heaven’s sake, dear,’ her mother said, taking a step towards her. ‘We were worried half to death. Where have you been?’
Paige hurried up the last few yards and looped her arm through her mother’s, drawing her back towards the gardens and the brightly lit clubhouse.
‘I was… I was walking on the beach, Mother. I’m sorry if I worried you.’
’Well, not just me, Paige,’ Janet Gardiner said as they moved across the flagstones. ‘We were all upset. Your father, Alan—whatever got into you? Were you out here all by yourself?’
Paige glanced over her shoulder. There was only darkness behind her. ‘Yes, of course. I’m really sorry. I just… I just needed some time to myself, I guess.’
Her mother’s footsteps slowed. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, dear? There’s something about you this evening…’
‘Mother, where’s Alan?’
‘Looking for you, of course. He…’
‘I have to talk to him,’ Paige said in a rush. ‘I have to tell him that this…’
Her mother put her arm around Paige’s waist. ‘Alan understands,’ she said soothingly. ‘He knows it’s just last-minute nerves.’
‘Mother, please…’
‘All brides feel that way. You’ll be fine the day of the wedding. Once you see your bridesmaids and the ushers, the flowers, the guests smiling at you, and Alan waiting at the altar—you’ll see. All the jitters will vanish.’
It was a litany designed to comfort, but it was also a reminder of reality and responsibility. Paige came to an abrupt halt.
‘Will they?’ she asked in a whisper.
Janet Gardiner smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said, and then, looking into Paige’s eyes, her smile turned to a worried frown. ‘Unless you have real reservations, Paige. Do you? If you’re not sure…’
Paige caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Yes. No. God, Mother, I… I don’t feel… I don’t feel the way I should about Alan, do you know what I mean? I… I just don’t feel that way…’
Her mother’s eyebrows rose. ‘The way you felt about that man in New York, you mean.’ Her voice was stiff with distaste. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
Paige took a breath. ‘I’m not comparing the two situations, Mother. I…’
‘I should hope not. Alan will never hurt you, Paige. You should be happy.’
‘I am happy. I mean, I thought I was. But…’
The door ahead of them swung open suddenly, and the noise and smoky warmth of the ballroom spilled over them. Alan gave a sigh of relief as he stepped on to the terrace.
‘There you are,’ he said. ‘What happened to you, sweetheart?’
‘I was… I was walking, Alan. I…’
He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Are you OK?’
Paige nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘I looked everywhere for you. In the cloakroom, in the car…’
‘You didn’t look on the beach,’ Janet Gardiner said. ‘That’s where she was, Alan. Walking off a bad set of nerves.’
Paige flushed. ‘Mother, for heaven’s sake…’
Alan grinned. ‘Terrific. I’m the one who’s supposed to be jittery, remember? That’s the bridegroom’s prerogative.’
Paige drew in her breath. ‘Are you?’ she whispered.
Alan put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘We’re going to be happy,’ he said softly. ‘I promise.’
Paige stared at her fiancé. They would be happy, she thought. Of course they would. What she’d felt a few moments ago, in the arms of a stranger, wasn’t happiness. She knew that as well as anyone. Better, perhaps…
‘Mr and Mrs Fowler have asked us to their house for coffee, dear,’ her mother said. ‘I’ll just get your father and we’ll meet you out front.’
Alan smiled as Paige’s mother bustled away. ‘You’re going to get coffee and cake and the whole Fowler clan,’ he said teasingly. ‘Aunt Dorothy wants to meet you. And Uncle Sam. And what looks like an endless line of cousins.’ He bent and kissed her. ‘I’m glad your mother found you, sweetheart. We don’t want to disappoint them, do we?’
‘No, of course not.’
She gave him a quick smile as he clasped her hand in his and led her through the clubhouse to the front portico. How long would the man on the beach wait for her? she wondered. Five minutes? Ten? Would he be disappointed or angry or…
‘Here we are, children. Alan, why don’t you ask the attendant to get the car?’ Her mother took her aside as Alan and her father stepped towards the kerb. ‘Stop worrying,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just last-minute nerves, that’s all. Three days from now, when you’re Mrs Alan Fowler, you’ll remember how you felt tonight and you’ll laugh.’
Paige nodded and murmured something appropriate. But as she stepped into her fiancé’s car and let the commitments and obligations of her new life swallow her, she knew that her mother was wrong.
She would remember this night, but she would never laugh. The memories of it would be too bittersweet.
But then, fantasy often was.
