Unguarded Moment (21 page)

His voice said, 'Easy, darling. You're just having a bad dream, that's all. Everything's all right.'

She opened her eyes, and the nightmare garden withered and died. She was in her own room, in bed, and the sun she had imagined blazing down at her was her bedside lamp.

Liam was bending over her, his dark face harsh with concern.

She asked huskily, 'What time is it?'

'Almost eight o'clock. You've nearly slept the clock round.'

It was incredible. It seemed to Alix that she had only just closed her eyes. And something else was wrong too.

She said slowly, 'Why are you here? I heard you leave—I know I did.'

He smiled. 'You heard me go out for some milk and bread and a paper. Did you really imagine I was going to vanish, leaving you on your own?'

She said carefully, 'I shall be all right. You really don't have to bother about me.'

'Alix, you little fool!' His voice was an exasperated groan, and he pulled her towards him, the sheltering quilt falling away from her shoulders as his mouth crushed hers possessively. For a moment she resisted, her fingers spreading against the warm wall of his chest, but touching him, feeling the quickened thud of his heart under her palms was a seduction in itself, and helplessly she found herself surrendering to a clamour in her blood which drowned the last whisper of common sense.

He sank down beside her on the bed, the weight of his body holding her in sensuous captivity. She was returning his kisses with her whole heart, her mouth hectic and feverish beneath his, no longer caring that every kiss, every caress was proclaiming her secret.

'This to remember,' she thought somewhere on the edge of her mind. 'At least I'll have this to remember.'

Liam was kissing her throat, his mouth warm and sure as it moved over her flesh, and down to the curve of her shoulders, his fingers sliding the straps of her nightdress down to bare her skin for his further exploration. Her body arched up towards him in blind submission, the lacy bodice of her nightgown falling away from the small high breasts.

He paused, looking down at her, breathing sharply and unevenly, his dark gaze seeming to devour the treasures his passionate demand had uncovered for him. Then a long shuddering sigh went through him, and the dark head bent so that his mouth could take possession of her.

Her head fell back, and she heard a little moan deep in her throat as her ungiven body savoured for the first time the piercing sweetness of his caresses. Nothing had prepared her for the dark vein of sensuality in her own nature, or the way its heat was pervading her entire body, urging her to kiss as she was kissed, touch as she was touched, totally satisfying the hunger that was consuming her. Liam's lips were patterning on her skin, drawing tiny spirals of excitement on the warm flesh while his tongue gently stroked the rosy nipples into peaks of aching delight.

His hands slid down her body, taking her nightgown with them, his fingers warm and sensuous as he stripped hen He lilted himself away from her, and looked down at her as if he couldn't credit the surrender implied in her nakedness.

'God, Alix, I want you,' he muttered unsteadily. 'You're so lovely, I've dreamed of this moment—of seeing you, kissing you, knowing every inch of you.'

No word of love, she registered with a pang. She had to accept that was a commitment he neither wished to make nor required from her.

Her voice was ragged as she said, 'I want you, Liam. But I'm not—I haven't—I don't know how to please you,' she ended on a little rush of words.

His mouth twisted wryly, tenderly. He said, 'Obey your instincts, my sweet. I'll try and make it easy for you.' His hands smoothed a strand of damp hair back from her brow. 'All you need give is yourself, Alix. We have to learn to please each other, and this is only the beginning.'

He kissed her mouth, and his hands touched her with lingering gentleness, cupping her breasts, then sliding downwards over the taut planes of her stomach to her hips, and the silky firmness of her thighs.

She began to kiss him in turn, her mouth burning against his throat while her shaking fingers tugged open the buttons of his shirt. Her hands slid inside his shirt, revelling in the strength of bone and muscle, the warmth of his skin, as if she was absorbing the essence of him through her own pores.

Liam pushed himself into a kneeling position and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. His hands went to his belt, and he said huskily, 'Help me, darling.'

Alix was trembling as she obeyed. When she had finished, he took her in his arms, and held her against him until the shaking stopped, as if there was all the time in the world, as if the touch of their bodies in this close embrace was enough.

When he kissed her, his mouth seemed to convey a new urgency, and her own senses flamed in response, eagerly, longingly. She began to match his caresses, her hands moving without inhibition over his body, making him groan with pleasure.

'Don't, Alix,' he ordered thickly. 'I want to be gentle, but you're making it impossible…'

She didn't need his gentleness. She was on fire for him, and whatever pain he might inflict would be only a small price to pay for the satisfaction of this agony of desire he had aroused in her. She kissed his mouth fiercely, her small teeth grazing his lower lip.

Her fingers biting into his shoulders, her slender legs entwined with his, she fell back with him on to the tumbled pillows and the conflagration consumed them both.

A long time later, she said dreamily, 'I'm hungry.'

Liam lifted his head from its pillow on her breast, and looked at her. 'For food or for me?'

'Hm,' she pretended to consider. 'For food—first,' she added in laughing haste as his mock scowl threatened reprisals. 'Did you get anything else besides milk and bread?'

'Some eggs, cheese and bacon.' He kissed the tip of her nose.

'What efficiency!' she marvelled. 'You must have known you'd be staying for breakfast.'

He shook his head, his eyes caressing her. 'I only knew I was staying. And it's supper, actually.'

'So it is,' she said, her heart beginning to thud again as her eyes met his, and shared the unspoken message— that the whole night lay ahead of them.

She slipped out of bed and picked up her discarded nightgown, pulling it on over her head. Liam stayed where he was, lying relaxedly, his hands linked behind his head, watching her every move.

He said softly, 'I hope you don't expect me to dress for dinner.'

Alix shrugged. 'I wouldn't dream of dictating about such a thing,' she countered lightly, reaching for her robe. 'I have to put something on—just in case we get any unexpected visitors.'

'We'd better not,' Liam said forcefully. He threw back the quilt, and got out of bed. He came over to her, drawing her into his arms. He said, 'Alix—if I said I regretted anything that's happened here, it would be a lie, and we both know it. But I didn't intend this to happen—at least not now, not like this.'

She laid a finger across his lips. 'Don't say any more, Liam. Don't spoil it.' She tried to smile.

'Spoil it?' He was frowning. 'What the hell are you talking about? I only wanted to say…' He broke off abruptly, as the sound of the telephone suddenly shrilled through the quiet house. 'My God!' he muttered disgustedly. 'You wished this on us. Don't answer it.'

'Of course I must,' she said. 'It—it might be Italy.' It might be Bianca, she thought, ringing to make sure that the house was empty. Or ringing to find out where Liam was.

'Then tell whoever it is that it's a wrong number,' he said. He gave her a swift hard kiss.

Alix went into the office, and lifted the receiver. She began, 'Miss Layton's…' but before she could get any further, Gemma's voice broke in. 'Oh, Alix is that you? I didn't know what to do—where to telephone. I thought there might be someone there who could give me your Italian number.'

'Gemma? What is it?' Alix knew a sharp pang of foreboding.

'It's your mother. I only found out a little while ago. Alix, she's in hospital. She's had to have a major operation—a mastectomy. I—I couldn't believe it. I knew they hadn't told you.'

Alix said hoarsely, 'Oh God—it can't be true! Is she all right?'

'I think so. I asked your father, and he said she was making an excellent recovery. He seemed embarrassed at me asking, and Debbie was furious. She as good as told me it was none of my business.'

'Which hospital is she in? The General?' Alix questioned tautly.

'Yes, but she's leaving there, and going into a private nursing home to convalesce. Debbie wouldn't tell me which one.'

Alix sighed. 'Gemma, I can't thank you enough. I'll go to the house and find out exactly what's going on.'

'That's probably best,' said Gemma. 'Alix, she may be your sister, but Debbie wants a damned good hiding. Keep in touch, love.'

Alix replaced her receiver, and began to shake.

From behind her, Liam demanded, 'Who's in hospital? What the hell's going on?'

She thought, 'He thinks it's Bianca—that there's something the matter with Bianca.'

She said, 'It's my mother. She's very ill. She's had to have an operation, and they didn't tell me. They don't want me to know.' Her voice broke. 'My father—my sister—they didn't tell me. They knew where I was going. They could have got a message to me somehow— through Leon's office—somehow.'

He said roughly, 'Alix, don't! At least you know now. What do you want to do?' 'I must go to her,' she said on a little sob. 'I must!'

'Then you shall.' His voice sounded soothing, and the hand which stroked her hair back from her face was gentle too. 'We'll get dressed, and then I'll go and fetch my car while you make that meal we were going to have.'

She said, 'I haven't got time to wait for all that. I'll get a taxi. I have to leave now—at once!'

Liam's hands gripped her arms. He said as if repeating something to a child, 'We'll go together—after we've eaten. I'll drive you there. You shouldn't face this alone.'

'Face what?' she echoed wildly. 'The fact that my sister seems to hate me enough to keep my mother's illness from me? I've already faced that. Or do you know something that I didn't—about the operation, perhaps?' She shook his hands from her and stepped back. 'You can tell me, Liam. Was the operation—too late?'

He said rather wearily, 'I'm sorry if I've misled you, Alix. I know nothing at all about your mother's condition, its treatment or her post-operative condition. I just don't think you're in any fit state to be alone. Please stop arguing—it only wastes time—and do as I say.'

He turned and left her standing staring at the silent telephone. When she returned to the bedroom, he was already dressed and on his way downstairs.

'I'm going to fetch the car now,' he flung over his shoulder. 'Have food ready for us both by the time I come back.'

Alix showered and dressed, and went downstairs. She tried to telephone her parents' house, but the line was engaged. Then she, tried a local mini-cab firm, only to be told there was no car free. She replaced the receiver with a little bitter sigh, then went into the kitchen. He had bought gammon steaks, she discovered, and she put these to grill, while she percolated coffee, and sliced bread for the toaster. By the time he returned, the steaks were ready, and the eggs were just beginning to scramble in the pan.

'Good girl,' he said, sitting down at the table, and she felt sudden tears, thick and sharp in her throat at the casual approbation in his voice. She wasn't hungry, but she made herself eat, and tried not to think how different this meal could have been. When they had finished, she rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

He drove well, she discovered, as the car made its way out of the city. There were too many lights about— traffic signals, neon signs, the headlights of other cars, and she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes.

Liam's voice jolted her back. 'I think I know the way to the hospital, but if we're going to the house you'll have to guide me.'

'We'd better go to the house. They may have moved her from the hospital by now,' she said. She noticed that neither of them had said 'home'. 'It's right at the next traffic lights, and then left almost immediately.'

He nodded, and the car moved forward smoothly as the lights changed.

She could see light showing through a chink in the front room curtains when she got to the house. She got out of the car and walked up the path. She had her own key. It was somewhere in the bottom of her bag, but instead she rang the bell.

After a pause the front door opened and Philip Coulter peered out at her, blinking almost incredulously.

'Alix? Good God, is that you?'

'Yes, Dad,' she said steadily. 'Please may I come in?'

Her father glanced almost uncertainly back over his shoulder. 'Why, yes, dear. Of course.'

'Or do you have to ask Debbie's permission?' Alix enquired bitterly as they stepped into the hall.

Philip Coulter winced. 'Things haven't been easy for Debbie. Try and understand,' he began.

'And it didn't occur to either of you that if I'd been here I could have helped?' Alix shook her head. 'Dad, you look as if you haven't slept for a week. Why didn't you let me know what had happened? When did it begin?'

Debbie said, 'You weren't told because I didn't want you to be.' She stood in the doorway of the living room. Paul stood behind her looking embarrassed.

'The choice shouldn't have been yours,' Alix rounded on her. 'It was my right to know…'

'You have no rights in this house,' Debbie said inimically.

'Debbie,' her father appealed weakly. 'This isn't the time or the place…'

'Why not?' she flared. 'She might as well know sooner rather than later.'

'Know what?' Alix felt near breaking point. She felt Liam's fingers close round her elbow, supporting her. 'For God's sake, Debbie, what have I done, to be treated like an outsider?'

'You're treated like one, because you are one.' Debbie made no attempt to control the spite in her tone. 'I had to find my birth certificate some time ago so that we could apply for the marriage licence, as it happens, and yours was there too, in a separate envelope and sealed up. It just said 'Alix' on it, and I wondered why, so I opened it.'