chapter Nine
sarah discovered just how true that statement was when they arrived at
Helene's villa in what appeared to be the middle of a party.
The villa was several miles outside Cannes itself, set into the
hillside, and would have spectacular views of the sea, Sarah suspected
as she wearily allowed Joss to help her out of the car. Unlike her he
seemed completely fresh and untired; as vigorously masculine as ever. A
fact which Helene seemed to appreciate as she appeared in front of
them, wearing a clingy silk dress that moulded the curves of her
breasts and clung seductively to her long legs.
Watching her run into Joss's arms, Sarah had to turn away to hide her
pain. Jealousy ripped through her with the violence of spiked talons
tearing at her insides, leaving burning trails of fire.
"Joss, darling, at last... Mmm ... you look divine."
It was impossible for Sarah to drag her gaze away from the pouting red
mouth caressing Joss's, even though she longed to do so.
"You must come and meet Harry--he's offering me the most marvelous part
in his new film."
"In a minute..." Joss disentangled himself from Helene's embrace and
turned back to Sarah.
"Sarah's dead on her feet, Helene ... if someone could show her to her
room."
For the first time Helene deigned to notice her presence, and Sarah was
weakly conscious of the contrast they must present, Helene glowing
vibrantly with life, her skin tanned and sleek; her make-up and hair
immaculate, while in direct contrast, she looked pale and washed out,
her hair lank, and her face white with tiredness. No wonder Helene was
looking so triumphant, although she had scowled faintly on first seeing
that Joss wasn't alone.
"Oh, yes ... your little assistant. She's sharing a room with one of
the maids. I'll get someone to take her to it. You're right. Joss,"
Helene added with an acid trill of laughter.
"She looks completely washed out..."
Silently digesting the status to which she had been reduced, Sarah was
left to her own devices, while Helene whisked Joss away.
It was almost half an hour before a young girl came up to her and
touched her apologetically on the arm.
"You are the assistant of Monsieur Howard?" she asked and when Sarah
nodded her head, she added, "Please to come this way."
The room Sarah was to share with one of the maids was barely large
enough to hold the two single beds and narrow chest of drawers that
were its only furniture, but Sarah was too dred to care about the
paucity of her surroundings. The only bitter thought that did cross
her mind as she prepared for bed was to wonder where Joss was sleeping.
With Helene? Stop it, she warned herself, stop thinking like that,
it's no business of yours.
The maid whose room she was sharing spoke as little English as Sarah
did French, but even so Sarah found her a friendly girl. The household
staff rose at six, she explained to Sarah in the morning when her alarm
had woken both of them.
Wide awake once the girl had gone about her duties, Sarah went in
search of the bathroom she had been shown last night. The staff's
quarters were right at the top of the four-storey villa, in what must
once have been attics, the bathroom antiquated but scrupulously
clean.
Having showered and dressed Sarah made her way downstairs and out into
the gardens of the villa, empty at this early part of the day apart
from a couple of gardeners working silently on the flower beds.
As she had suspected last night, the villa commanded a breathtaking
view of the Mediterranean, a panorama of wooded slopes, pastel-painted
villas, and then the deep dense blue of the sea stretching out below
her.
Joss had explained to her that Helene was hiring the villa for the
summer, and looking at the size of it, Sarah guessed that it must be
costing the actress a small fortune. The thronging crowd that had met
her tired and confused gaze last night was missing this morning; a
solitary male seated under one of the striped umbrella'd tables by the
pool apparently engrossed in some papers he had spread out on the table
in front of him.
Nevertheless he must have heard because he lifted his head and turned
it in Sarah's direction, frowning slightly as he looked at her.
Sarah ventured a brief smile, and offered a tentative "Good morning."
"Hi, there...1 thought I had the place to myself at this time of day. I
haven't seen you around before, have I?"
"No, we only arrived last night." Sarah introduced herself and learned
that her companion's name was Harry Weinberger.
She recognised it instantly. This must be the film director Helene had
mentioned to Joss the previous night.
"So what brings you here? It isn't like Helene to welcome feminine
competition." His rather full mouth twisted slightly, the cool blue
eyes flickering appreciatively over Sarah's slim, jean-clad legs.
He was older than Joss . somewhere in his late forties, but there was
an earthy attractiveness about him that Sarah suspected few women would
be immune to. It wasn't so much his physical looks, she thought
watching him, it was more the aura of power that clung to him, an
almost tangible awareness of himself as a man. That aura of power
would be very attractive to her sex, and she could well understand why
Helene had been so cock-a-hoop about the role he had promised her in
his new film.
They chatted for several minutes, although Sarah did not volunteer any
information as to what she was doing at the villa. A natural inborn
caution urged her to say nothing about Helene's book--she had no wish
to fall foul of the actress by discussing her private affairs behind
her back.
"I normally eat my breakfast round about now," Harry announced,
glancing at his watch.
"Helene never makes an appearance before lunchtime, and so if you want
something to eat, I suggest you join me. Am I right in thinking you
arrived with Helene's latest male acquisition?" he questioned,
watching Sarah sharply.
Sarah turned slightly away from him so that he wouldn't see the agony
in her eyes.
"Yes... Joss is my boss," she admitted colourlessly.
"Your boss?"
She could hear the curiosity beneath the transatlantic drawl, and
suspected that he was about to question her further.
"Thanks for the offer of breakfast," she interrupted quickly, 'but
after all that driving down here yesterday I feel like stretching my
legs. If you'll excuse me I think I'll walk down to the village. It
isn't very far, is it? "
"Only a couple of miles, not that there's very much down there. I'm
going into Cannes later this morning. I'll give you a lift there if
you like."
"Thank you, but I'll have to check with Joss."
It was a good excuse to escape on, although as she hurried away from
the villa, Sarah wasn't really sure why she should have felt any need
to escape. Harry Weinberger was an urbane, sophisticated man, and
hardly one who was likely to be interested in her, but there had been a
certain look in his eyes as he studied her slender figure that had set
alarm bells ringing in her brain. Who knew, he might even have thought
she had deliberately sought him out. As a film director he had no
doubt developed a certain degree of cynicism towards her sex, Sarah
reflected absently as she set off in the direction of the village.
As Harry had told her there was nothing much there, but the
mouth-watering smell of freshly baked croissants filtering out from the
patisserie proved far too tempting for her to resist, and a warm wooden
bench seat beneath the plane trees in the small dusty square proved a
fascinating spot to sit down and consume the croissant she had just
bought, as she watched the villagers go about their daily business.
Her enjoyment of the scene in front of her was heightened by her
reluctance to return to the villa, but she could not stay here for
ever, she reminded herself. Sooner or later she was going to have to
face up to the reality of Joss and Helene as a couple--as established
lovers.
Reluctantly she got to her feet and began the long walk back to the
villa.
The first person she saw as she walked down the villa's drive was Joss.
He was pacing the drive frowning, the taut movements of his body
indicative of a pent-up, ferocious tension. He was dressed in cream
cotton jeans and a thin, shortsleeved shirt, and Sarah's heart leapt
betrayingly into her throat as she simply stood and stared at him,
avidly drinking in the sight of him . the way the heavy cotton clung
to the long lines of his thighs . the way his hair grew thick and dark
into his nape.
He turned round and saw her and his frown deepened. He didn't look
like a man who had just spent the night making love she thought
heartbreakingly feeling the waves of tension beating out of him even
from several yards away.
"There you are. Just where in hell have you been?" he demanded
harshly, striding towards her.
"I've turned this damned place upside down looking for you."
"I walked down to the village." To her consternation Sarah found that
she was flushing, guiltily conscious of the fact that she was here
ostensibly to work, and that she was not a free agent. As a palliative
she offered without thinking, "I wouldn't have gone out, but Harry
Weinberger told me Helene never gets up before lunchtime."
Instantly, she was aware of her mistake.
"So?" Joss demanded icily.
What could she say? Luckily Joss seemed disinclined to press for her
response, instead hurrying her towards the villa.
"I'm seeing Helene at twelve to talk to her about her book. I want you
in on the meeting to take notes." He frowned and came to an abrupt
halt.
"And just how did you get so pally with Weinberger?"
"He was out by the pool this morning when I walked past. We got
talking."
"Did you now? Well you'd better not let Helene catch you just talking
to him. She considers Harry to be very much her own private
property."
Joss was still frowning, and Sarah felt a wave of sympathy for him wash
over her. Could he be jealous of the film director? If so, she knew
exactly how he must be feeling. She wanted to reach out and touch him
. to offer him some sort of comfort, but she knew she daren't let
herself come into physical contact with him. It might prove too much
for her shaky self-control.
In the event it was half-past-twelve before Helene deigned to see them.
She received them-and that was the only word Sarah could use to
adequately describe the languorous manner in which she lay on a
silk-covered chaise-longue-in the pretty sitting room off her bedroom,
her voluptuous body sheathed in pure silk satin lounging pyjamas, her
hair and make-up immaculate, but her expression petulant and bored,
anger sparkling in her eyes the moment she saw Sarah.
"Joss, darling, surely we don't need your little assistant here...1 was
looking forward to having you to myself," she pouted.
Sarah couldn't look at Joss. Instead she started to move back to the
door, but he stopped her, fastening hard fingers round her wrist.
"Sarah stays, Helene," he said coolly.
"I need her to make notes.
Now . what was the problem you needed to discuss so urgently? "
Helene pouted, but after another acid look at Sarah she started
explaining.
"I wanted to do a chapter about my relationship with John Vincent--he
directed me in my first film, and everyone said that he exploited me,
paying me a flat fee instead of offering me a percentage... Of course
the whole world knows that he's gay and that he dislikes attractive
women. He was madly jealous of me at the time because Gray was so
attracted to me, and he wanted Gray himself...1 want to put all this in
the book. Joss, but Richard doesn't agree."
"He's quite right," Joss told her after a few moments' silence.
"You don't want to be landed with a libel or slander suit, Helene..."
The actress's eyes flashed, her mouth hardening with temper.
"It's my book. Joss," she said angrily, 'and I'll put in it what I
damn well want to. If you don't publish it, someone else will. In
fact--' "Stop threatening me, Helene." Sarah marvelled that Joss Could
keep so calm.
"You asked me for my advice and I'm giving it to you."
"But can't you see? It would serve John right if I exposed him.. made
him look the pathetic little creep that he is." Ugly patches of colour
darkened Helene's skin, suddenly making her look all of her thirty-odd
years.
"He kept me out of the latest Harding film you know.. and everyone
knows that it's bound to get an Emmy. That part was made for me, but
he gave it I'm going to put that chapter in my book. Joss ... and
you're not going to stop me. Oh, Joss, I thought you'd be on my side,"
she cried, suddenly abandoning her anger and getting off the
chaise-longue, to cling to Joss's side, curling her nails into his
skin.
Sarah wanted to look away but she could not. The sight of the actress
clinging to Joss exercised a horrible sort of fascination over her,
compelling her to watch, no matter how much the sight tormented her.
"I am, but you can't seem to see it." Unbelievably Joss was now
smiling rather wryly.
"I do understand your desire for revenge, Helene." Was that really a
certain cynical dryness she heard in his voice, or was she imagining
things, Sarah wondered?
"But you haven't thought of the high price you might have to pay.
Vincent will most definitely sue if anyone publishes what you want to
write."
"I don't believe I'm hearing this. Joss." Helene released him and
started pacing the floor.
"In fact, I'm going to pretend I haven't heard it. I suggest that you
take yourself and your little assistant off and have a very good think
about what you've just said... When you've done that, I'm sure you'll
see that I'm right, darling..."
"And if I don't...?"
Joss's voice was totally devoid of all expression.
"Well then, darling," Helene told him malevolently.
"I'll just have to find another publisher, won't I?"
The rest of the day was a nightmare. Joss disappeared after their
interview with Helene reappearing only after the al fresco lunch which
was served on the patio. As on the previous evening the pool and
garden area were crowded with people, all of whom seemed to greet one
another as 'darling', most of them men Sarah noticed, and all of whom
seemed to form an adoring court around Helene. Watching her fondle the
sun-bronzed back of one young boy who, despite his arresting physical
appearance, could not have been a day over twenty years old, Sarah
thought it was just as well that Joss wasn't there to witness what was
going on.
He reappeared during the afternoon, dressed in swimming shorts, and
looking rather grim. Watching the fast, demanding crawl with which he
traversed up and down the pool for a dozen or so lengths, Sarah felt
her heart ache with sympathy for him. He was not a man who would find
it easy to stand on one side while his lover openly demonstrated her
interest in other men. Harry Weinberger was sitting with Helene now,
Sarah noted, absently admiring the skill with which the older man
detached the young Adonis from Helene's side, and then captured her
attention for himself.
"Envying her?" She hadn't seen Joss get out of the pool, and he
showered small droplets of warm water on her skin as he came to sit
down beside her.
"No," Sarah told him, with clear-eyed honesty, wondering why on earth
he should think she was the slightest bit attracted to the film
director, 'just admiring his technique. "
"Well, he's certainly had plenty of practice. He's just got rid of his
fourth wife..."
"Do you think Helene will back down over the book?" Sarah asked him,
wanting to distract his attention from the other couple, knowing what
he must be feeling at the sight of them together.
"I doubt it. She can be very stubborn when she wants to be."
"So what will you do?"
"I've told Helene my stance on the subject," Joss said coolly, 'and I'm
not going to change my mind not through bloody-mindedness but because I
know I'm right. If we went ahead and published the book as Helene
wants to write it, John Vincent would sue us straight away, and I can't
say I would blame him. Helene's letting her desire to pay him out
blind her to reality, I'm afraid. "
"And if we lose the book and she takes it to another publisher..."
She held her breath, knowing how much he had been depending on having
the book in the shops for Christmas.
"Better to lose the book than face a law suit," he said, shrugging
easily.
"It isn't the end of the world. To be honest, now that I've read what
she's done so far, I'm not very impressed. Richard, her agent, has
done most of the work for her, but in reality it's nothing more than a
lot of badly cobbled together gossip. Even so it would have sold after
some work by a good ghost writer. However, we can't win 'em all. Still
I suppose I'd better go and see if I can talk some sense into her." He
got up, his body sleek and supple, already a warm brown. She longed to
reach out and touch him; to run her hands up over the silken planes of
his skin, to. Gulping painfully, she closed her eyes and settled back
in her lounger, mentally comparing her own very respectable chain-store
bikini to the far more daring garments the other women were wearing.
Most of them were bare-breasted, with bodies that spoke of endless
hours in gyms and working out.
Against her will, she glanced across to where Joss was sitting with
Helene and Harry Weinberger. Helene was stroking the director's bare
forearm, leaning into his body, laughing up at him, her every movement
calculated to make Joss jealous, Sarah recognised, knowing that this
was the actress's way of punishing him for defying her. She didn't
know how Joss could stand it, and she marvelled at and admired his
self-control.
A lesser man would have given in. but Joss wouldn't, she reflected.
Nothing would deflect him from his decision, and she suspected that
Helene would not be pleased about that. She was a woman who was used
to commanding the adoration and obedience of her men, but Joss was not
cast in that mould.
Her long fingers curled round Harry Weinberger's thigh, her eyes
narrowing in sexual pleasure as she stroked the firm flesh. See, she
seemed to be saying to Joss . see what you are missing, what pleasure
I could give you . but Joss seemed to be oblivious to her manoeuvres,
Sarah thought mechanically, knowing exactly how she would feel if she
was there in his place, watching him openly and very sensually
caressing someone else while she was at his side.
Unable to bear any more Sarah got up and went inside. Her small room
at the top of the house was hot and stuffy, but at least up there she
didn't have to endure the sight of Helene tormenting Joss--and enjoying
every minute of it.
The stuffiness in her room made her head ache, but Sarah was reluctant
to go back outside. She found some magazines that belonged to the maid
and flicked idly through them, wishing with all her heart that Joss had
left her behind.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside made her frown and put
the magazine down, her frown changing to surprise as Joss thrust open
the door and walked in.
"Good God," he exclaimed looking round the tiny room.
"It's like an oven in here. Can't you open the window?"
Sarah shook her head.
"No, they're all screwed down. Perhaps these rooms were once
nurseries. Did you want me for something?"
"Yes we're leaving just as soon as you're ready," he told her
tersely.
"Leaving!" Sarah stared at him.
"Have you...? Has Helene...?
"The answer to both those questions is " no"," he told her with dry
irony.
"Helene it seems is more interested in securing a part in Weinberger's
new film than discussing her book, so we might as well leave."
Poor Joss. Sarah could imagine how he must be suffering, forced to
watch Helene flirting with Harry Weinberger. No wonder he wanted to
leave.
"It won't take me long to pack," she assured him quickly.
"I'll meet you downstairs, in say... half an hour."
"Fine. I'll go and give our hostess the good news. I'm quite sure our
presence won't be missed."
He was hiding his bitterness well, even managing to sound faintly
derisive, but Sarah wasn't deceived.
Helene didn't even bother to see them off, and Sarah felt she could
well understand the reason for the tension hardening the bones of
Joss's face as they drove away.
It wasn't until they were clear of Cannes that he spoke to her, and
then only to say briefly, "I hope to God we can find somewhere to stay
tonight. It's not going to be easy, right in the height of the
season."
His prediction proved all too accurate and it was well after ten
o'clock when they eventually found rooms in a small family run auberge
a few miles off the main tourist route, in a small village.
They would have to share a bathroom. Joss told Sarah briefly as he
signed the register, but Sarah was beyond caring. They seemed to have
been travelling for ever, and the long journey down to Cannes, and the
tension of their stay at the villa, were now catching up on her.
"I've organised a meal for us," Joss told her, 'but first I need a
shower. " He grimaced, running his hand through his hair.
"God, I'm tired..."
He looked it, too.
"You use the bathroom first then," she offered.
"I'm not too bad," she fibbed, 'after all you're the one who's been
doing all the driving. "
She gave him half an hour before going upstairs herself. The door to
the bathroom they were to share was open. Joss had obviously vacated
it. She was too tired herself to bother about finding anything special
to wear. What did it matter anyway? Joss wouldn't notice. His mind
would be on Helene.
A soft cotton dress lay at the top of her suitcase and grabbing it and
clean underwear she made for the bathroom.
Her shower revived her a little, and feeling at least clean and fresh
she went downstairs in search of Joss and her meal.
The small dining room was empty. Frowning slightly she went outside
thinking he might be in the garden, but it, too, was deserted. On her
way back into the foyer, she bumped into the proprietress, who shrugged
her shoulders and looked blank when Sarah asked her in her schoolgirl
French if she had seen Joss.
He must still be in his room . perhaps waiting for her, she realised,
going back upstairs slowly.
His bedroom was opposite hers, the door slightly open. Sarah tapped on
it and walked in, coming to an abrupt halt, his name dying on her lips
as she saw Joss sprawled out across the bed on his stomach, the brief
towel wrapped round his hips his only covering.
Her entrance had obviously woken him, and he turned his head, staring
groggily up at her. Something in the way she was watching him must
have betrayed her because almost instantly the grogginess disappeared
from his eyes to be replaced by a glittering febrile intensity.
His glance swept her from head to toe, leaving her skin burning. He
got up off the bed, the same, but suddenly different, dangerous in a
predatory unleashed way that trailed flutters of alarm down her spine.
This was not the Joss whose control she had envied and admired as he
sat watching Helene flirt with Harry Weinberger. This was a man whose
emotions were most definitely not under any sort of control at all she
recognised numbly as he came towards her.
"What is it, Sarah?"
How silky and soft his voice was, but dangerous, too, setting her
pulses thudding in primitive warning.
"I came ... to tell you that our meal was ready."
"Did you.. but it wasn't food you were thinking about just now was it,
Sarah?" He had drawn level with her now and she could smell the musky
male scent of his skin. She wanted to turn and leave the room . to
escape from the danger she could feel closing in around her, but she
simply could not move.
"You were looking at me as though you couldn't wait to feel my skin
against your own... as though you couldn't wait to touch me." His
voice was low and faintly rasping now, making her shiver in tense
reaction. She wanted to deny what he was saying . to escape from the
humiliation he was forcing on her, but she couldn't. She was like a
helpless rabbit mesmerised by a hawk.
"Do you want to touch me, Sarah? Do you want to feel my flesh against
your own? Were you remembering what it was like between us?" He
laughed suddenly, a harshly bitter sound.
"Joss ... please, I know why you're doing this..." Her throat hurt as
she forced the words out.
"I know how you feel about Helene." She risked a brief look at him and
found that he had gone tensely still, his eyes narrowing on hers.
"I know you..."
"What is it you're trying to tell me, Sarah?" he demanded softly.
"That you're jealous of Helene? Were you jealous of her, Sarah?" he
probed, closing the distance between them.
"Of this. Were you jealous of this...?"
His mouth was on her own, taking it without finesse or delicacy, his
arms locking round her like bands of iron as his self-control was
blasted away completely and he gave in to the tightly reined emotions
she had sensed churning within him all day.
She knew she ought to resist . that it was not her he Wanted, but the
sheer sensuality of his kiss exercised its own dark power. Against her
will she responded to it, her lips parting to the thrusting demand of
his tongue.
His body burned against her own, his hands urgent and ungentle as he
caressed her. She tried to break free of him, appalled by the sudden
pressure his arms exerted on her body as he restrained her.
"Don't fight me tonight, Sarah," he muttered against her throat.
"I
need this too much to stop now. You shouldn't have come in here . but
now that you have. "
His heartbeat thudded crazily into her chest, all sense and reason
suspended as she found herself responding instinctively to the male
lure of him. This was the man she loved . wanting her. needing
her.
"Stay with me tonight, Sarah." His mouth touched hers, lightly, less
lightly, and then very fiercely as he reinforced his need. She could
feel it in his body; in the hard urgency of his muscles, and in the
tormenting throb of his arousal.
It was easy now to forget how he had rejected her . that he didn't
love her, when she stood within the circle of his arms, and his mouth
was slowly caressing the tender arch of her throat. Without realising
she had moved she felt the smooth skin of his back beneath her palms, a
long shudder of pleasure rippling through his body as she slowly
caressed the supple flesh. His teeth bit gently into the vulnerable
juncture of her throat and shoulder, and then again less gently, so
that it was her turn to shudder and cling helplessly to him as he eased
down the zip of her dress.
She was almost feverish with the need to be rid of her clothes. She
wanted to feel the satin glide of his body against her own. She wanted
to touch him, to taste him. Blindly she placed her lips against the
hollow of his throat, amazed and thrilled by the explosive sounds of
pleasure he made beneath her tentative caress, his fingers against the
vertebrae of her spine, pressing her into his body so that her breasts
were flattened against his chest.
"Why the hell do you have to wear so many clothes?" He muttered the
protest against her ear as he unfastened and removed her bra, holding
her slightly away from him as he cupped and studied the aroused
fullness of her breasts.
"I can't believe you're real." He said it slowly, like someone caught
up in a dream, his eyes dark and veiled, almost unfocused.
"Come to bed with me now, Sarah," he muttered against her mouth, slowly
drawing her towards the bed.
Sarah went unresistingly with him, letting him pull her down beside him
on the bed, watching almost dreamily as he threw off his towel and
removed her briefs. Her body knew his now. knew it and reacted
immediately to the proximity of it, her senses already savouring the
pleasures she knew were to come.
"Sarah." Joss whispered her name against her mouth, kissing her
slowly, his hand cupping her jaw, holding her beneath his mouth as it
ravaged hers with increasingly urgent kisses. His heart was thudding
at twice its normal rate, the heat coming off his skin burning her own.
Beneath his breath he was muttering words she couldn't decipher; his
hand leaving her face to travel along her throat and down to her
breast, his fingertips lightly grazing her already erect nipples.
"Joss..." Sarah was barely aware of moaning his name as she arched
eagerly beneath his hands, but she heard the hoarse note of desire in
his voice as he demanded rawly, "What is it you want, Sarah? Is it
this?" His mouth touched her throat, caressing it moistly.
"This...?"
His head dipped further, his tongue tracing slow circles against the
aureole of her breasts. She was dissolving in pleasure, Sarah thought
hazily, melting in those circles of fire Joss was painting on her body.
She reached up towards him, dragging her nails protestingly along his
shoulder, unable to endure the sensual torment of his warm mouth
against her skin. Her teeth found his shoulder and bit protestingly,
her body shuddering in heated delight as Joss's teeth caught against
her nipple as he dragged in a deep breath.
"Do that to me again and I won't be responsible for how I react," he
muttered thickly.
"I want to feel your mouth against my skin, Sarah," he told her
huskily, 'it does things to me that I can't begin to describe. "
Listening to him was doing things to her that she couldn't begin to
describe, Sarah acknowledged hazily. The erotic mental images he was
drawing for her, were turning her blood to fire, drugging her senses .
making her shudder in delicate response to what he was saying.
"Make love to me, Sarah." He murmured the command with aching urgency,
drawing her down against his body.
Her fingers clutched at his shoulder and then relaxed, tracing the hard
muscles beneath his skin, her lips instinctively feathering light
kisses along the same path. Hesitant at first, Sarah felt her
confidence grow as Joss responded openly to her caresses, inviting them
to become more intimate.
Her lingers touched the hard flatness of his belly and he shuddered
convulsively, muttering i her name, but when she drew away his hand |
covered hers, holding it against his body, moving it to where he
throbbed demandingly.
The maleness of him beneath her hand was distinctly arousing, her
stomach muscles tightening, desire flooding through her, weakening her
so that she wasn't sure which of them it was who shivered.
Her need to feel the life force of him pulsing deep within her was
overwhelming.
"Sarah." Feverishly Joss caressed her body, drawing her up against
him, moving against her in urgent demand. She wanted him so much. The
intensity of it coiled achingly within her, exploding into liquid heat
when his fingers touched the velvet moistness from which the heat
radiated.
"You want me." His voice was thick and drugged with passion, slurred
faintly with an edge of masculine triumph. Beneath the open sexual
desire glittering in his eyes Sarah could sense a more primitive male
delight in his ability to arouse her, to reduce her to this melting,
writhing mass of nerve endings that craved only one release.
And then suddenly she was sick with self- disgust. What was she doing
allowing Joss to use her as a means of relieving his frustration? He
didn't want her. not in the way that she wanted him, above and beyond
all other human \ beings. She was simply a body in his bed, a woman
who he could use to forget Helene for a few brief hours.
He sensed her withdrawal immediately, his body tensing, the glitter of
sexual hunger in his eyes replaced by a mingling of anger and. and
what? she asked herself achingly. Pain? Hardly.
"What's wrong...?" He wasn't touching her at all now, and in fact had
moved completely away from her. Treacherously her body missed the heat
and pressure of his. She shivered, suddenly cold, coming down too
quickly from the high plateau to which he had taken her.
"I think I'd better leave. Joss." She made to get out of his bed, but
to her surprise he reached out and stopped her.
"For God's sake, Sarah..." The words were strained and hoarse. She
could sense him fighting for self-control and reminded herself that he
had every reason to feel rage against her. She should never have
allowed their lovemaking to get so far.
"Look ... we have to talk." He sounded surprisingly gentle, but very,
very tired, as though emotionally he was drained dry.
"I promise you I won't touch you again."
She couldn't hide her expression from him; the bleak misery that filled
every part of her mind and body as she acknowledged what he was saying.
Of course he wouldn't touch her again . he wouldn't have touched her
at all if it hadn't been for Helene. Suddenly she was too miserable
and exhausted to conceal the truth from him any longer.
She could not go on working for him feeling the way she did about him.
at this moment in time she simply didn't have the energy or the
willpower to fabricate a suitable lie. Perhaps after all it was better
to tell him the truth. After all he had never deliberately set out to
hurt her. It was hardly his fault that he didn't want her love. How
much easier everything would have been if there had simply been that
one night between them. If they had never met again. But that
wouldn't have stopped you loving him, an inner voice told her.
"Sarah, what is it?"
Wearily she told him.
"It isn't the fact that you touched me. Joss."
She shut her eyes as her throat closed on a tight ball of pain, and
admitted huskily, "Far from it. It's the fact that you were using me
as a substitute for Helene..."
There was no mistaking the quality of the stunned silence that followed
her announcement. Joss sat up and grasped her arms, pulling her half
upright and snapping on the bedside lamp so that he could see her
properly.
"Say that again?" he commanded thickly.
Hesitantly Sarah did so, fascinated by the way his fingers tensed into
her skin, his eyes closing as he tipped his head back and swallowed
deeply.
When he spoke his voice was unfamiliar, thick and clogged with a
rawness that made her own pain intensify.
"Like hell! For God's sake, Sarah! I was making love to you quite
simply because not to do, was driving me completely out of my mind...
You are driving me out of my mind," he underlined, shaking her and then
before she could stop him dragging her into his arms, his mouth blindly
searching for and finding her own.
He was kissing her . touching her like a man starved of any physical
contact over a period of months rather than minutes, his mouth moving
on hers with an absorbed intense hunger.
"I love you, Sarah... Surely you realise that?"
She felt the movement of his lips against her own, heard the words but
could not take them in.
"Say something, dammit." He was shaking her again, or was it he who
was shaking, his face drawn and strained, his eyes almost black,
burning in a face suddenly gaunt with need.
"But how can you?" She was whispering the question, reaching out to
touch his face with her fingers, registering the convulsive hunger with
which he pressed them to his mouth, feeling the rapid thud of his heart
beneath the palm she had placed against his body to support herself.
"But how can you love me? You never...1 thought you wanted to get rid
of me that I would read more than you intended into what had happened
between us ... and then there was Helene."
"A smoke screen who I used to stop myself from frightening you off..
and I admit, who I also used to try and make you feel jealous.
Helene has never meant anything to me, Sarah. She's shallow and vain.
the sort of woman who's more of a turn off than a turn on. "
"But that night at my flat when you stayed with me ... when I wanted
you."
She saw the look of pain cross his face.
"Did you think I had rejected you?" He shook his head.
"You were so vulnerable that night, Sarah ... too vulnerable. I
daren't risk taking what you were offering me in case you regretted it
in the morning. Suddenly, tonight I was tired of playing games, Sarah,
of holding off in case I frightened you away. Whether you're ready to
hear this or not, it's too late...1 love you, Sarah...1 fell in love
with you the moment I saw you at the ball. I couldn't believe what was
happening to me. how I felt about you but you seemed to feel it,
too..." He shook his head like a man coming out of a dream and Sarah
felt her heart contract with love and joy.
"I told myself it was all too good to be true, that I was going
headlong into danger, but my heart wouldn't listen," he told her
wryly.
"You've no idea what it did to me when I woke up and found you gone."
His fingers traced the shape of her mouth.
"I
wanted to put you through hell for that. for the agony you caused me.
"
"But you didn't try to find me."
He didn't deny it.
"No... I'd already taken too much of an emotional beating to risk any
more pain. You see, Sarah, when you came to me... gave yourself to me
the way you did I thought it was because you shared my feelings...1
thought that when we made love we had established a rapport, a
relationship, that went far beyond the merely physical. For the first
time in my life I was experiencing the reality of love.. when I woke
up and found you gone I knew that reality had only been an illusion.
Your very absence proclaimed more loudly than any amount of words, that
you did not share my feelings ... that what for me had been a unique
experience I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life, was for you
something you wanted to put behind you and hide from."
"I had no idea you felt like that...1 thought I was just ... just a
one-night stand."
He grimaced faintly.
"Thanks very much. Didn't I tell you at the time that I didn't go in
for them? You hurt me, Sarah, and badly...1 was only just beginning to
come to terms with what happened when I walked into Leichner & Holland
and discovered--' The sitting there..."
"Mmm ... and obviously as embarrassed and resentful as hell to discover
I was going to be a permanent feature of your working life.
I almost wanted to kill you when you told me why you'd made love with
me', he admitted rawly, pain reflecting in his eyes for a moment as he
stared down at her.
"I was twisting the truth for self-defence," Sarah admitted.
"Oh, Jane and I had talked about me protecting myself from David by
taking a lover, but I would never have done it." She smiled
mischievously up at him.
"I saw you before the ball you know...1 was shopping in town with
Jane."
"And?"
"And quite unconsciously I wondered what you would be like as a
lover...1 told myself it was because of what Jane and I had been
discussing, but it was more than that... It was you. Joss," she
admitted huskily, 'although I wasn't ready to admit with my mind then
what my heart was telling me. It sounds so ridiculous, falling in love
with a stranger. "
"Ridiculous.. and at times excruciatingly painful," Joss agreed wryly,
'but nevertheless a reality. "
"Yes. That's why I ran away ... why I left that morning. I woke up
and looked at you and suddenly I was scared. I knew what we'd had
wasn't enough.. but how could I believe you would feel about me as I
did about you? For all I knew you might just have wanted a
light-hearted affair, and I knew I couldn't have endured that ... it
seemed safer simply to run."
"But now I've caught you."
"Yes." Her voice was a breathless tremor.
"And since you're my captive, you're mine to do with as I please..."
"Yes."
"To obey my every command."
He was kissing her now, teasing, light kisses that made her forget
everything but the need to cling to him and mutely demand more..
much more.
He stopped kissing her and lifted his head to study her for a moment.
"Sarah, are you sure triplets don't run in your family?" he demanded
thickly.
She laughed. Quite sure. "
"Mmm ... good." He was kissing her again and this time it was her turn
to withdraw.
"But twins do," she teased him.
"And in mine. Nice ... two little girls just like you. I think I'd
like that."
"Or two little boys just like you." She said it dreamily, her body
instantly responding to the touch of his hands against it, the look in
his eyes turning her bones fluid.
"Is that what you want?" He whispered the question against her
mouth.
"Yes, please."
Instantly his expression changed, triumph gleaming in his eyes as he
announced vigorously, "Good. Then you'll have to marry me first.. I'm
a very conservative type you know. No wedding, no twins..."
"Is that right? She laughed at his expression and then said soberly, "
Joss, are you sure I'm what' you want? "
"More sure than I've been of anything else in my life. I knew it the
first time I saw you."
Sarah digested his words in silence, the sincerity and depth of them
driving out the last vestiges of her doubts.
Smiling at him she reached up to embrace him, loving the shudder that
racked through his body when hers moved against it.
"Joss, I love you so much..."
"Thank God for that."
His prosaic reception of her declaration was slightly dampening.
"I
thought I was never going to hear you say it," he told her huskily,
correctly reading her expression.
"In so many words that is..." he teased.
"Your body has already, in the most satisfactory way possible." He
laughed as she made to hit him with a small fist, kissing her until she
ceased to struggle, until there ceased to be anything other than the
taste and feel of him, and then drawing her down beside him he added
softly, "But I wanted more than the response of your body, Sarah. I
wanted your heart as well, your commitment ... your love..."
"All that and in return all I get is a vague promise of twins..."
She pretended to be horrified.
"That," Joss agreed dulcetly, 'and, of course, this. "
Her body melted against him, her lips parting for his kiss, everything
else forgotten as Joss showed her the depth and intensity of his
love.
14-11-07, 02:14 AM
chapter nine
The Demetrios Virgin
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