Past All Forgetting (17 page)

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Authors: Sara Craven

BOOK: Past All Forgetting
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'What's wrong?' he demanded harshly, his eyes glittering as she tried unavailingly to shield herself with her hands. 'Why this sudden urge for modesty? I've seen you in less, for God's sake, and by your own volition too.'

'I didn't know what I was doing.' She stared into his eyes, desperately seeking a trace of reassurance. But they were like granite.

'Oh, sure. You were just an innocent child, and I was a brutal molester. But that was a long time ago. You may still be innocent, my sweet, but when I've done with you, you won't be a child any longer.'

'Rian!' The plea in her voice was lost in the storm of his kiss. She would not plead again, she thought achingly. She would endure without a word whatever he inflicted on her. She would be ice in his arms.

Almost as if he could read her mind, his mouth gentled on hers suddenly. His hands moved on her softly and seductively in slow tantalising caresses that always stopped short of actual demand. She knew, of course, what he was doing. He was using all his skill as a lover to wear down her defences, to melt the ice barrier she had set up against him. And she also knew, with a sense of burning shame, that it would only be a matter of time before he coaxed the response he wanted from her body.

At long last he lifted his head and looked down at her. There was a stillness between them—an almost unbearable tension, and she heard him breathe her name. He bent over her, and his lips parted hers with devastating simplicity. It was a long kiss. It was a promise and a demand, an offering and an acceptance, peace and turmoil, question and answer. Her arms went slowly up to hold him, and she knew the warm intoxication of his skin against hers.

The sudden hammering on the door was an intrusion almost painful in its intensity. Rian gave a muffled groan and rolled away from her, staring at the door.

'What is it?' he called.

'Your coffee, sir.' They heard the thud and the chink of china as the tray was deposited, and the sound of retreating footsteps.

Rian sighed and swung his legs to the floor. He sent her an ironic glance.

'Your guardian angel seems to be putting in a lot of overtime,' he. muttered as he walked to the door, and released the catch.

Janna watched him mutely while he poured the coffee, and added milk to her cup. He drank his own black, without sugar, she noticed. When he had finished, he set the cup on the tray and got up, reaching for his shirt.

'Can you be ready in about ten minutes?' He glanced almost indifferently at his watch. 'It's still very early. We might just be able to smuggle you home without anyone being any the wiser.'

She stared at him unable to relate this stranger to the lover who had almost drawn her soul from her body only minutes before. Then sudden humiliation flooded her. So this had simply been a diverting interlude, a confirmation of the fact that she was his for the taking whenever he chose to exert himself. She was terribly afraid that she was going to burst into tears, and that would be disastrous.

Her chin went up and her voice was cool as she said, 'Thank you. May I have some privacy while I dress?'

His hands stilled on his shirt buttons, and he sent her a coldly sardonic look. 'What did you imagine?' he asked impatiently. 'That I was going to sit and watch you like some middle-aged
voyeur
in a strip joint? Thanks, but no, thanks, I don't need that kind of second-hand stimulation.'

He picked his car keys up from the table beside the bed and pushed them into his pocket, then grabbed up his jacket and slung it across his shoulder.

'Come down to reception when you're ready,' he told her. 'I'm going to get some petrol.'

The hot water was tepid, but she managed a perfunctory wash before donning her skirt and top. She felt horribly self-conscious as she walked along the corridor and took the lift to the ground floor, and was thankful that no one else seemed to be stirring, except for the staff, who were presumably used to seeing guests in evening dress prowling round the corridors in the early light of day. It was a realisation that brought her no comfort whatsoever.

Rian had apparently completed any remaining formalities, and no one made any attempt to detain her as she walked out through the glass swing doors into the cold grey light. Rian was sitting in the car staring straight ahead through the windscreen. As she approached, he got out abruptly and came round to open the passenger door for her. His face was quite impassive and he did not speak.

The road home lay through wild high moorland country and under any other circumstances, Janna would have gloried in its bleak beauty. Now she sat quietly, staring, unseeingly at the road ahead, conscious of nothing but the man at her side, urging on his powerful car with a skill that just stopped short of recklessness.

There was little other traffic on the road, and they made good time. When at last they saw the grey huddle of Carrisford below them in the dale, she broke the silence. 'What are we going to say?'

'Tell what tale you please,' he said briefly. 'Say the car broke down. That's an old favourite.'

'Or I could tell them the truth,' she said hesitantly.

'I don't suppose you even know what that is,' he said bitingly.

She bent her head, smarting at the hurt his words had inflicted. She had intended it to be an overture, an inference that she was now prepared to shoulder the blame for everything that had happened not just now, but seven years ago. His rejection puzzled her. What did he want? she wondered achingly.

The drive through the town was something of an ordeal.

The streets were empty except for a few milk floats, but she felt that every window was a censorious eye watching their swift progress. Her nerves were raw when the car eventually turned into the road where she lived. Everything was quiet, but there was no mistaking the highly-polished blue car parked outside the front gate of her house.

'It's Colin,' she said stupidly.

He gave her a sharp look. 'What do you want me to do? Drive round the block?'

'There's no point. He'll have seen the car.' She wondered bewilderedly why she did not feel more concern. Colin presumably knew that she had not been home all night; that was why he was waiting there. He was going to be very angry, and all she could feel was a kind of tired indifference. Rian braked, bringing the car to a smooth halt beside the pavement. She saw Colin get out of his car and stand waiting for them, his hands on his hips. He had changed out of his evening dress, she noticed, amazed by her eye for such trivial details at a time of crisis, and was wearing a crumpled-looking lounge suit.

Rian came round to the passenger side and held the door open for her. He helped her out, and she knew a desperate impulse to cling to his hand. Instead she squared her shoulders and walked forward to meet Colin.

'Have you been waiting long?' she asked.

'What kind of a question is that?' he rasped. 'Where the hell have you been?' His hand gripped her arm bruisingly. 'Answer me, damn you!'

'That's enough.' Rian took a warning step forward, and Colin turned on him viciously.

'I haven't even started yet,' he said. 'Your turn will come. But for now keep out it. I'm speaking to—my fiancée.' He stared at her. 'Well?'

'When I left the Hall last night I didn't feel very well,' she said evenly. 'I didn't want to go home, and I suppose I must have passed out. Rian took me to the motel at Bartley and looked after me.'

'I'll bet he did!' Colin's laugh had an ugly sound. 'It's all of a piece, isn't it? His own family disowned him, you know, because he couldn't keep his hands off the local girls.'

'That's not true,' Janna burst out.

Colin glanced at her, and his eyes narrowed in unpleasant speculation. 'How would you know?' he inquired. 'You were a kid when all this was going on—weren't you?'

Her eyes fell. She knew she ought to say something, but the words would not come.

'Or was he a cradle-snatcher too?' Colin sneered. 'My God, what a fool I've been! I laughed at Dad tonight when he said you were more than just old acquaintances. I didn't even suspect when you'd gone to his hotel room.'

'There's nothing to suspect,' Rian broke in decisively. 'Take my word for it…'

'Your word?' Colin glared at him. 'I wouldn't take your word for what day of the week it was!'

'Nevertheless,' Rian went on, apparently unruffled, 'you have no reason to level any sort of accusation at Janna. She is not my mistress and never has been. Now I suggest you take her indoors, otherwise well be attracting some unwelcome attention out here.'

'And you wouldn't care for that, of course,' Colin said venomously. 'There's enough unwelcome attention coming in your direction these days. There are a lot of decent people in this town and they'd like to know when you're going to give your child a name.'

'Colin!' Janna was appalled. 'You—it's none of our business. We have no right…' She broke off in sheer embarrassment, but Rian was smiling, apparently unmoved.

'It's a fair question,' he said. 'Perhaps I'll get round to doing something about answering it one of these days.' He looked at Janna, his eyes dark and enigmatic. 'Goodbye, Janna. In case I don't get another opportunity, I wish you joy.'

She wanted to scream that he couldn't go like this, but she was afraid of setting Colin's hostility into a blaze again. Rian waited for a moment, then raising his hand in a mocking salute, he turned away, climbed into his car and drove off.

'Good riddance,' Colin said vindictively. He stretched. 'God, I could do with some coffee, and a shave.'  'Then you'd better go home,' Janna said quietly. She eased her engagement ring over her knuckle and held it out to him. 'Take this with you.'

He stared at her, obviously taken aback. 'But I don't understand…' he began.

'No?' she smiled faintly. 'I suppose I was meant to feel gratified that you took his word for it that—nothing had happened between us. What were you going to do about last night, Colin? Draw a veil over it and pretend it didn't exist—until you needed a stick to beat me with? I don't think that's what I want in a relationship.'

'You're not yourself,' he said. He took her hand and gazed anxiously at her. 'I'm—I'm sorry, Janna. Is that what you want me to say? But what would any man have thought?'

'Exactly what you did, I daresay,' she said, lifting her hand wearily to push back a strand of hair that the cold breeze had displaced. 'And you were quite right, in a way. It's true I don't—belong to Rian in that way, but it's not because I wasn't—willing. He just didn't—take advantage of me, that's all. Comical, isn't it?'

Colin's face was suffused with blood. He snatched the ring from her hand and stuffed it into his pocket with a furious gesture.

'You slut,' he said hoarsely.

He drove off with a squeal of tyres, leaving a haze of exhaust fumes hanging in the air. Janna watched him go with a feeling of complete detachment, then began to walk slowly up the path. She glanced up at the windows of her parents' room, but the curtains were still tightly drawn, and she supposed that by some miracle they had remained undisturbed by the angry voices outside. She let herself into the house and went up to her room, making no particular effort at quietness, but all was still. She took off the crumpled skirt and let it drop to the floor. Her sweater followed it She collected a handful of fresh underwear and soaked herself in a hot bath, scrubbing herself methodically from head to foot. She had dressed and was applying her make-up in front of the dressing table before she heard her parents stirring. Her mother came and tapped on the door.

'There you are, darling. You were very late last night. I was quite worried. Did—did everything go well? Colin rang, you know, very late, and I told him you weren't home. He seemed quite upset. You—you haven't quarrelled, have you?'

Janna turned slightly and held out her bare left hand. Her mother put her hand to her throat.

'Oh, Janna,' she said, utterly dismayed. 'What happened? Do you want to tell me?'

Janna hesitated. 'It was no one thing,' she said at last. 'We—we just feel we would be better apart, that's all.'

'I see.' Mrs Prentiss was clearly baffled. She brightened slightly. 'But that isn't really definite, is it? I mean, you could get together again.'

'Oh, Mother!' Janna laid down her hair brush exasperatedly and stared at her. 'It's all as definite as it can be. I never realised my marrying Colin was that important to you.'

Her mother's lip trembled as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 'Is it so unnatural? I—I want the best for you, Janna.'

'And Colin is the best?' Janna gave her and ironic glance. 'I hope I never meet the worst.'

'How can you say such a thing?' Mrs Prentiss looked shocked. 'Up to a few hours ago, you were in love with Colin. Deeply in love.'

'Was I?' Janna sat down beside her mother and considered the matter. 'I don't think so. I was in love with an image I'd created of the sort of man I wanted to love. Colin seemed to—fit that image, that's all. Now I know he doesn't, and I'm glad that I know. You have to love a person, not an image, and we would have been very unhappy if we'd got married.'

'Oh, don't be so silly,' Mrs Prentiss burst out. 'Why, Colin was devoted to you. He would never have given you a moment's anxiety. I don't understand you, Janna, and I never will. You've thrown away the chance of a lifetime, it seems to me, on a whim. I'm not impressed by all this talk of images. I think you and Colin have had a disagreement, and you've acted hastily. Well,' she got up with the air of one who washes her hands of the whole matter, 'you have made your bed and you must lie on it. There's bound to be talk. It's inevitable.'

'I'm sure it is,' Janna said dryly. 'But I'll survive.'

'I expect you will,' her mother retorted bitterly. 'You'll go your own way, as always. But I have to live in this town. I have to listen to the remarks that are made, Plenty of people will be delighted that you and Colin have broken up. He'll have no difficulty in finding someone else.'

'No.' Janna's lips twisted wryly. 'What he wants is a pretty stock pattern.'

Mrs Prentiss' mouth compressed into a thin line. 'I can't talk to you when you're like this,' she declared, turning to the door. 'You've disappointed me, Janna, but I know better than to expect you to give any consideration to my feelings!'

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