Season of Shadows (15 page)

Why fight it? she asked herself at length. Why not accept
what he had to offer while the offer still lasted? Tomorrow she might
hate herself, but in years to come the memory of these shared moments
might be all she would have to sustain her through life.

Her nightdress slithered to the floor at her feet, and
coherent thought deserted her as those strong hands fondled her
breasts. She leaned back against him weakly, her eyes closed, her lips
parted on a low moan of ecstasy, and suddenly she was airborne, her
arms locked about Anton's neck as he carried her towards the bed and
lowered her on to it. He knelt over her, his hands planted firmly on
either side of her body, and she saw his eyes fill with an intense
hunger as they travelled over her, devouring her nakedness in a way he
had never done before.

'God, Laura, you're beautiful,' he said thickly. 'Don't
let me first have to break through the wall of your resistance. Give
yourself to me tonight.'

She stared up at him through lowered lashes, veiling what
lay hidden in her heart, but unable to deny the aching need within her,
and she agreed silently to his demand, allowing her actions to speak
for her.

Shyly at first, and then with growing confidence, she
untied the belt of his robe, slipping her hands inside and moving them
in a slow, bold caress across the wide expanse of his hair-roughened
chest. His skin was warm beneath her palms, the muscles rippling
beneath her exploring fingertips as he shrugged himself out of his robe
and flung it from him impatiently. His eyes burned down into hers as if
to probe the depths of her soul, then he lowered himself on to her with
a groan and buried his face in the scented hollow between her breasts,
a shudder of desire shaking throughout the length of his body. Above
the thundering roar of her own heartbeats Laura heard him murmur her
name in a voice quite unlike his own, and an odd feeling of triumph
assailed her when he finally raised his head and sought her lips with
his own.

They made love that night in a way they had never done
before. They exchanged kisses and caresses, tenderly at first, and then
with a growing urgency until they came together in an explosive union
that rocketed them to ecstatically delirious heights.

Later, in the languorous aftermath of their lovemaking,
Laura held Anton close and breathed a silent prayer that he would never
tire of her. He might never love her as she loved him, but she would do
everything within her power to keep the flame of his desire alight. If
desire was all he had to offer her, then she would nurture it with
tenderness and care.

Laura
slept dreamlessly that night for the first time since coming on holiday
to Gordon's Bay, and she did not awake until the sun filtered in
through the window the following morning. Anton was no longer in bed
beside her, so she took a quick bath before changing into a cool summer
frock and sandals.

She was still checking on her make-up when Anton walked
into the room and closed the door, behind him. Their eyes met in the
mirror; hers questioning, a little shy, and his distinctly mocking. He
brushed aside the thin strap of her dress with a lazy finger, and
lowered his lips to the satiny smoothness of her shoulder before he
drew her to her feet and kissed her with lingering intent on her
quivering, responsive lips.

'Happy birthday.'

Laura surfaced swiftly. She had forgotten completely. In
fact, she had never given it a thought, and, raising her startled,
questioning glance to his, she asked: 'How did you know?'

'Your birth date happens to be on our marriage
certificate, but who do you think sent you those telegrams on your
birthday each year when Elizabeth was off somewhere with Robert on his
yacht?'

'You sent them?' she gasped in dismay, and not quite sure
how she felt about it. 'Elizabeth asked you to send them?'

'I offered the first time when she bewailed the fact that
she would be unable to send you a telegram on your birthday, and after
that I sent it off automatically each year whenever they were away,'
Anton explained, and, releasing her, he said abruptly, 'Turn around. I
have something for you.'

Stupefied, Laura obeyed, standing perfectly still while he
gently brushed her hair out of the way and fastened a necklace about
her throat. It was the most magnificent piece of jewellery she had ever
seen, she thought dazedly as she stared at herself in the mirror and
lightly fingered the delicate design in gold which was so richly
studded with diamonds and blue sapphires.

'Anton…' she began helplessly, so totally
overwhelmed by his gift that words failed her as she turned to face
him. 'What can I say?' she whispered finally.

He smiled faintly. 'Do you like it?'

'It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received,' she
whispered, and, to her dismay, her eyes filled with tears.

He stared at her oddly and raised a hand to her face,
brushing away the single tear that spilled over on to her cheek with
his fingers. 'I've never known a woman to cry before when I've given
her something.'

'You must think me stupid, but—' Tears of
happiness and delight choked her and, grasping his strong wrist in both
her hands, she turned her lips into his palm in a spontaneous gesture.
'Thank you.'

Seemingly astonished, he raised his heavy eyebrows sharply
above those deep-set eyes, then he drew his hand from hers, and caught
her against him in a fierce embrace which was painful yet pleasurable.
The softness of her trembling mouth was crushed beneath his in a hard,
satisfying kiss which left her clinging to him dizzily when he finally
raised his head.

There was a sharp knock at the bedroom door, and Sally's
voice demanded haughtily, 'Aren't we
ever
going
to have breakfast this morning?'

'Just coming,' Laura assured her, and then a more pressing
thought came to mind as she stood in the circle of Anton's arms and
stared up at him solemnly. 'Anton, did you change your mind about
coming because you remembered my birthday?'

His expression became shuttered, and with his lips against
her throat creating havoc with her emotions, he asked roughly, 'What
difference does it make? I'm here, aren't I?'

'Aunty Laura?' Sally called sharply, bursting into the
room impatiently, then she stopped dead in her tracks to survey them
with wide, slightly indignant eyes. 'I thought you said that you
weren't demon—demon—'

'Demonstrative?' Anton supplied the word she was searching
for, ignoring Laura's attempts to wriggle free of his arms. 'It so
happens that we aren't demonstrative in front of prying eyes such as
yours,' he added smoothly, glancing at Sally sternly from his great
height. 'We like our privacy, so next time you find yourself facing a
closed door, young lady, you knock and wait until you're admitted.'

Sally's lips curled in a slightly petulant fashion before
she lowered her eyes to the floor and muttered, 'Sorry.'

'And don't sulk,' Anton ordered before asking in a lighter
tone, 'Are you hungry?'

'I'm starving!' Sally exclaimed, recovering swiftly.

'So am I,' Anton admitted and, taking Laura's hand, he
drew her towards the door. 'Come on, let's have breakfast.'

A surprise awaited Laura when she entered the kitchen.
Anton and Sally had prepared an enormous breakfast between them, and in
her place at the table stood a small gift-wrapped parcel.

'Happy birthday,' Sally laughed excitedly, flinging
herself at Laura and kissing her enthusiastically. 'Now open your
present.'

Laura obediently undid the wrapping to find that her gift
from Sally was a tin of her favourite body talc, and the ready tears
returned to her eyes once more when she suspected that Anton had had a
hand in this as well.

'You're a darling, Sally, and thank you,' she cried,
hugging Sally tightly in her arms.

Over Sally's dark head Laura's eyes met Anton's, and her
heart leapt with a crazy warmth when he smiled at her without a trace
of his usual mockery. This was truly a birthday she would not forget in
a hurry.

When the time came to return to Bellavista, Laura closed
the cottage door behind her with a genuine feeling of regret. It had
been a holiday to remember, and during those warm autumn days she had
watched Anton unwind gradually, the lines of strain disappearing from
his ruggedly handsome features to leave him relaxed and more
approachable.

'I'm so glad you came, Uncle Anton,' Sally told him with
childish sincerity when he had stacked their suitcases in the boot of
the white Jaguar. 'It's been fun, and I'm so glad we're a family now.'

Laura's throat tightened, but, surprisingly, it was Anton
who took Sally in his arms and said: 'I'm glad we're a family too.'

He stretched out a hand towards Laura, silently including
her in his statement, and when his fingers closed about hers she felt a
warmth enfolding her heart with an aching sweetness. Oh, God, she loved
this man so much, and how very much she yearned to make her feelings
known to him. Surely, if she loved him enough, he would eventually
learn to love her in return?

'It's time we left,' Anton interrupted her thoughts, and
later, as they sped towards Cape Town, the week the three of them had
spent together at Gordon's Bay became a delightfully happy memory Laura
would have reason to cling to desperately during the long, painful
weeks ahead.

'Laura, how much does your marriage to Anton mean to you?'
Gina asked unexpectedly one morning while they were having tea on
Bellavista's wide sun-stoep.

'It… means very much to me,' Laura replied
cautiously, and a little surprised that Gina should ask.

'Do you love him?' Gina persisted, and when Laura
hesitated, she gestured expressively with her hands. 'I'm sorry, my
dear. I wouldn't normally pry into your affairs like
this
,
but I do have a very good reason for asking,' she explained, repeating
her query. 'Do you love Anton?'

Laura nodded, so accustomed to hiding her feelings that
she was unable to confirm them verbally.

'Has he mentioned Camilla von Dissel at all recently?'
Gina questioned her, and the mention of that name sent a tremor of
inexplicable fear along Laura's nerves.

'Her name has never been mentioned between us,' she
replied truthfully, but her mouth felt dry, and her stomach muscles
seemed to be twisting themselves into a painful knot. 'Why do you ask,
Gina?'

Gina's green glance was unwavering and filled with concern
when it met Laura's. 'My dear, I think you should know that Camilla von
Dissel arrived in Cape Town a few days ago. Her husband died some weeks
ago leaving her a wealthy widow and, from what I'm told, she's returned
to South Africa with her sights firmly set on Anton.'

Laura shivered as if an icy wind had blown against her
skin. 'Surely she must know that he's married?'

'My dear Laura, a woman like Camilla would consider that
no obstacle at all,' Gina laughed a little cynically. 'If she wants
him, then she'll certainly do everything in her power to get him.'

'Anton wouldn't be fooled by her again,' Laura argued, not
wanting to believe that Camilla von Dissel was capable of severing the
still fragile bond which linked her in marriage to Anton.

'Men are silly creatures, really,' Gina remarked
scathingly, 'and Anton wouldn't be the first man to make a fool of
himself twice over the same woman.'

It was no use sticking her head in the sand like an
ostrich, Laura realised at length. Camilla had once featured
prominently in Anton's life and, if she was clever enough, she could do
so again.

'Do you think he knows?' Laura asked anxiously. 'That
she's back, I mean?'

'I'm certain he does.'

'You sound more than certain—you sound
convinced.' Laura clenched the arms of her chair so tightly that her
knuckles shone white through her skin. 'What is it, Gina? Have you been
told something?'

'It isn't what I've been told, it's—' Gina
paused and bit her lip as if she were angry with herself. 'It was
nothing,' she ended in her most convincing manner, but Laura was not
fooled for one moment.

'Please, Gina. I must know.'

Gina shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unable to meet
Laura's eyes while she spoke. 'I met Graham in town yesterday. We had
lunch together at that new Sea Point restaurant, and…'

'Anton and Camilla were there together,' Laura filled in
for her when she paused uncertainly.

'Look, my dear,' Gina began with some urgency as she
leaned towards Laura and placed a sympathetic hand on her arm. 'I'm
fond of you, and so is Graham, or I wouldn't be here today talking to
you like this. I'm not saying that you have reason to fear the worst,
but forewarned is forearmed, they say, and Graham thought that I would
be the best one to enlighten you.'

Laura was silent for a long time, trying to assimilate the
information Gina had passed on to her, then she smiled stiffly and
said: 'I'm grateful to you, Gina.'

This talk with Gina placed Laura on the alert, and she
began to notice things she might have overlooked before. Anton began to
miss dinner on countless evenings, arriving home late at night to
occupy the bed in the dressing-room. It was, so he had said, not to
disturb her with his late arrival at night, but Laura would not have
been human if she did not begin to suspect that he was seeking his
pleasure in the arms of the woman he had once loved so passionately.

She was torturing herself unnecessarily, she told herself
firmly one morning when she drove herself to town in the small blue
Mazda which Anton had given her. At twelve-thirty she telephoned his
office on the spur of the moment, hoping to have lunch with him as she
had done several times before, and hoping, at the same time, that his
presence would alleviate her foolish fears, but his secretary informed
her, with unsuspecting truthfulness, that he had gone to an early lunch
with Countess von Dissel, and that he was not expected back before
three that afternoon.