No Greater Joy (17 page)

Something was tightening inside her. 'You're trying to tell me something.'

'It's true I was upset about Timmy. But it didn't change what you and I have together, Alison.'

What
do
we have? I love you. But do you feel anything more than physical desire for me? she thought.

'I didn't know what to expect,' she admitted.

'You were thinking of Raymond.'

'Yes.' She swallowed hard on a throat that was suddenly dry. 'It's true I was thinking of him. Things went wrong after we argued, after he was angry.'

'I believe things went wrong long before that,' Clint said quietly. 'I believe Raymond realised before you did that what you had all along was a sister-brother relationship.'

'You could be right.' Alison was on the verge of tears.

'The way Raymond went about things was wrong,' Clint went on. 'He should have told you about his feelings—about Edna. But maybe he didn't have the courage to tell you.'

Her lips quivered. 'Do we have to talk about Raymond now?'

'Yes. Because you have to understand that I'm not Raymond. Don't you know that yet, Alison?'

'I think I do.' Her voice was choked.

'Well, that's good.' His voice changed. 'Do you know we're talking a darn sight too much? That's not what I came here for.'

The words sent a hot current of feeling rushing through her. Putting her arm around his neck, she whispered, 'Kiss me, Clint.'

He made a sound in his throat. 'What do you think I've been wanting to do ever since I left you this morning?'

Their first kisses were as tantalising as always—playful stroking around the corners of lips, a nibbling of ear- lobes, playful but intoxicating, kindling the desire for much more.

But within minutes the tenor of their kisses began to change. There was passion in their lips now, hunger and possessiveness, and the need to explore the sweetness of each other's mouths. There was a fiercely joyous meeting of lips and tongues and teeth, while at the same time their hands began to move over each other.

'You're so lovely,' Clint said once, when they drew apart to take breath.

'Am I?' Alison wanted to hear him say it—as often as possible.

'The loveliest thing that ever happened to me. Beautiful, sexy, desirable—you're all those things, Alison.'

'You're lovely, too.' It was as much as she had ever allowed herself to say. Pushing her fingers into the opening of his shirt, she slid her hands, flat-palmed, over his chest.

'Provocative as well!' His breath hissed in his throat, and his voice was ragged. 'A beautiful and provocative little siren, luring me the way the mermaids used to do.'

'Not the first time you've called me a mermaid. Where do I lure you to?' she asked against his lips.

'To the greatest joys, darling.'

Which was where he was taking her. As he pushed the pyjama top from her shoulders and began to make love to her breasts, touching and kissing alternately, her nipples hardened into his fingers, and she thought she would go crazy with pleasure.

Somehow Clint seemed to know all the most sensitive areas of her body. The little hollow at the base of her throat, the soft skin beneath her earlobes. The palms of her hands and the delicate soles of her feet. Teasing strokes of a rough tongue sent shudder after shudder through her system. She ached to have his lips return to hers, so that their kisses could be mutual ones.

At length, Alison could stand it no longer, and she buried her hands in his hair and guided his head back to her mouth. The warm hiss of his breath blew between her lips, then he was kissing her again—and she him— with all the passion that was in them both. There was a fierceness in their kisses, but a sweetness too, like nothing she had ever known, so that all she wanted was for the kissing to go on and on for ever.

She felt dizzy when Clint raised his head and looked down at her. And then he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. As if she were a bride being carried over the threshold, was her involuntary thought.

She began to tremble as he undressed her. Finally she was naked, and now it was his eyes that were making love to her body. There was something very akin to worship in them as they moved over her—over her soft breasts, the nipples pink and hard with desire, her hips, slender yet seductively rounded, and the long, shapely legs.

He removed his outer clothes, keeping on only his underwear as he lay down beside her on the bed. Their arms went around each other, each seeking to be as close to the other as possible. Long, hard male body against the soft female one, in a closeness that was such a heady onslaught on Alison's senses that her hunger, already intense, was fanned to a flame that was almost unbearable.

A small moan of pleasure escaped her as they lay facing each other, thigh to thigh and hip to hip, and began to kiss once more. Clint's hands were moving over her, shaping themselves to the soft mounds of her buttocks, then sliding between their two bodies to caress her nipples again.'I want so much to make love to you, Alison,' he said at last, his voice husky. 'Properly, the way a man makes love to a woman. But I don't know if you're ready for it.'

She couldn't have said why she was shy suddenly, so that she stiffened in his arms. Perhaps it was because she had never made love with a man, and, though she loved Clint and wanted him to make love to her, she felt suddenly tremulous. And so terribly vulnerable—for he had never said that he loved her. If he had, it might have been different.

The moment of indecision got through to him. 'You have to be ready for this,' he said raggedly. 'Otherwise there's no point.'

'Perhaps I am ready,' she whispered.

'You have to be sure.'

'Perhaps I am,' she said again.

'That's not good enough.'

'Clint...'

'It's important that there should be no regrets later.' With an obvious effort, he pushed himself away from her. 'God, Alison, you don't know what it does to me to leave you—but in the long run it's better for us both if I don't take what you're offering.'

Nerves raw, she watched him dress. She wanted to stop him, to draw him back to her, but some inner hesitation, even now, kept her lying where she was.

In the doorway, he stopped and looked back at her. 'When you're certain you're ready, tell me, darling. I'll be waiting for you.'

Alison lay for hours, just as he had left her, aching with the frustration of having been left unfulfilled, trying to ignore the pain that came with the knowledge that camp was ending and that she would not see him again after that.

She loved him so much. She had never dreamed that it was possible for her to love a man as much as she loved Clint. It was a love she had tried so hard to fight, but the battle had been unequal from the start. And he would never know it.

But he could! It was already morning when she sat up suddenly, struck by an electrifying thought.

'When you're certain you're ready, tell me,' he'd said.

Well, she
was
ready to make love with Clint, and she would tell him so. They could make love tonight—one glorious night that she would always have to remember. She would tell him also that she loved him. She had reached the point where she had nothing to lose.

Eagerly, Alison jumped out of bed. After showering, she pulled on the first clothes in sight. She was on her way to Clint's cabin when Brian stopped her with a question. She was walking further when Virginia appeared with an order. Alison answered politely, concealing her impatience.

And then Clint himself came out of his cabin, only to be waylaid by a group of campers. Alison pushed a hand through her hair and smiled wryly.

Things were going to be hectic today, for the campers were leaving. By tonight, only the counsellors would be left. They were going to the hotel to dine and dance and have a farewell party. By tomorrow, most of them would be gone. Alison would have to wait until after the party for her chance to be alone with Clint.

The day got off to a hectic start. With seventy children packing their things and getting ready to go, the counsellors were kept busy. The older campers were able to do their own packing, the younger children had to be helped. Inevitably, possessions were missing and had to be found. New arrangements had to be made. Even with Virginia's expert organisation, there was a lot to do.

There was a flurry of goodbyes. Addresses were being exchanged. Arrangements were being made for reunions. Some of the campers were going home by train, many were being fetched by their parents.

Towards midday, a car carrying Timmy's parents, and C driven by Timmy's uncle, Joe Roscoe, arrived. Timmy had no idea that they were coming, for until the last minute it had not been certain whether his father would be out of hospital in time, and everyone had agreed that it would be a terrible thing for the little boy to be disappointed.

Clint stood talking to the Roscoes while Alison went to call Timmy.

Timmy saw his uncle's car and was going towards it, when suddenly he stopped still. His body went quite rigid, only to begin shuddering a few moments later. Beneath his tan his little face went deathly pale. Watching him, Alison tensed, ready to catch him if he fainted.

Instead he let out a great whooping shout, and then he was running headlong towards his parents, hurtling into their bodies as their arms went around him.

As Timmy started his dash, Alison and Clint moved away from the emotional little group, allowing them to be alone in their reunion.

But a while later Timmy came to Alison. 'Come meet my mum and dad,' he beamed proudly.

'I'd like that very much,' she smiled at him. She was going to miss Timmy.

'So you're Alison. We've heard so much about you in Timmy's letters,' his mother said. She was a slender, pretty woman, with Timmy's smile and eyes.

'Timmy looks wonderful,' said his father, and Alison glimpsed tears in his eyes. Mr Roscoe had been out of hospital only three days, and evidently the reunion with his son had been very emotional for him.

'We were so worried about our son,' Mrs Roscoe told her. 'Timmy really didn't want to go to camp. He was nervous about leaving home to begin with, and then came the accident, and he was so badly shaken by that. And now here he is—so strong and happy. I can't believe it. It's like a miracle!'

'A miracle that Alison must take complete credit for.' Clint, who was back on the scene and had heard the conversation, put a casual arm around her shoulders. 'Timmy's recovery is entirely due to Alison, Mrs Roscoe. We all did our best with him, but Alison was the one who knew what was right for him all along.'

A warm glow spread through Alison's body at Clint's words of praise. It was one thing for her to know that she'd made Timmy happy, another for Clint to acknowledge it publicly.

'I even went on a trail-ride,' Timmy babbled excitedly. 'Can I go to camp again next year, Mom? Dad? And can I go on another trail-ride then, Alison?'

'Timmy, darling, you haven't even asked Alison'if she'll be here next year,' his mother protested.

The hand around Alison's shoulder tightened as Clint said, 'She'll be here.'

Alison's eyes flew to his. She would have liked to ask him how he could so confidently predict where she would be a year from now, when she didn't know the answer to that one herself. But there was the strangest look in his eyes, so that she did not ask the question. In front of the Roscoes, it was not the time for it anyway.

Finally it was time for the Roscoes to go. Fqr Alison, the parting was difficult. Timmy clung to her for a long moment, and she had to try very hard to keep her tears at bay.

'Will you write to me, Alison?' he asked.

'Yes, I will, honey.'

'And you
will
be here next year?'

'We'll have to see about that.'

She gave the little boy a warm hug, and even managed a smile as the car drove away.

'That was hard for you,' said Clint, his arm around her shoulder once more.

'Yes, it was. I'm going to miss Timmy. I'll send him a postcard when I get back home.'

If this parting was hard, how was she going to survive the parting with Clint? It was going to be sheerest hell.

'Clint,' she asked, 'why did you let Timmy think I'd be here again next year?'

'Won't you be?'

'Of course not. I'll have my stables by then. I can't possibly be in two places at once.'

'Could be I was mistaken, then.' But he didn't look as if he felt in the least in the wrong. His eyes were sparkling and his grin was so wicked that Alison looked at him suspiciously.

But there was no time to pursue the subject. Another departing family had claimed Clint's attention, and Alison had work to do in the stables.

Gradually, the bustle of activity began to lessen. Most of the campers had left, and those who remained were in the process of leaving. A big van was parked near the games tent, and two men were busy loading into it all the equipment that would be going into storage until next summer. For the counsellors there was work a-plenty. Dinner and dancing at the hotel seemed a long way away.

The sun was already setting when Alison had to go to one of the store-rooms. It was locked, and apparently Clint was the last one seen with the key.

She looked for him everywhere. Finally she decided to try his cabin. She was about to knock at his door when she was caught by a movement at one of the windows.

And then she saw them: Clint and Virginia. Virginia's hands were clasped around Clint's neck, Clint's arms were around Virginia's waist. He was smiling down at her. They were talking, but the window was closed and Alison could not hear what they said.

Alison's feet were rooted to the ground. She was like a statue, frozen, totally incapable of moving.

And then Clint bent his head and kissed Virginia. Pain knifed Alison's chest, and it was like no pain she had ever felt in her life. Briefly she closed her eyes, and for an awful moment she thought she would faint. But mercifully, movement returned to her body a few moments later. She fled the scene without a backward glance.

The van that was being loaded with things for storage was still outside the kitchen tent. Alison spoke to the driver.