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‘What could she have to say?’ he asked coldly. ‘You’re the daughter of some old friends, whom I can hardly leave to spend the night in a freezing cold house when the temperature’s already way down below freezing and still dropping, when my home is less than half a mile away.’
‘Maybe your central heating isn’t working either,’ Christy suggested childishly. What had she been hoping? That he would deny that Amanda had any right to question his actions?
‘Very likely,’ he agreed coolly. Too coolly for Christy’s liking. ‘However, unlike you, I took the precaution of making sure that all my fires were well banked down before I came out.’
‘So would I have done as well,’ Christy fired up immediately, ‘if you hadn’t practically dragged me off before I could do so.’
Suddenly his face split in a grin she remembered from earlier and far, far happier times. Crossly she glared at him while he teased, ‘You always were a cussed little brat, Christy. It must be something to do with this red hair.’ He pushed back the hood of her anorak as he spoke and gently tugged one of her curls.
Heat rushed through her body and she stepped back from him instantly.
His smile faded, his face shuttered and cold.
‘You’ve got ten minutes to collect together anything that you might need. What time do you expect your parents back?’
‘I’ve no idea. Originally they would have come home tonight, but Dad rang and said that they would stay over in view of the weather.’
‘Umm, well, if you give me the number, I’ll give them a ring and tell them where you are while you collect your stuff.’
This was the old big brother Dominic she remembered from her pre-teens. She wanted to protest that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, but as she looked up her parents’ friends’ telephone number, she was already starting to shiver in the chill air.
It didn’t take her long to collect what she wanted, and while she was upstairs she would have liked to have changed out of her damp jeans and anorak—they had had to get out of the Land Rover twice on the way back to dig it out, and on both occasions the snow had come over the top of her wellington boots—but she didn’t want to give Dominic any more excuse than necessary to criticise her, and criticise her he would if she kept him waiting, she thought bitterly.
If she was Amanda, he wouldn’t be treating her so cavalierly. If she was Amanda. She punched the old velour dressing-gown she was shoving into her rollbag with unnecessary vigour and then grimaced to herself. If she was Amanda, no doubt she wouldn’t be packing serviceable woollies and dressing-gown, but sheer silk undies and the sort of nightwear that no woman in her right mind ever wore to keep warm.
He was just replacing the receiver when she went back downstairs.
‘Your parents were worried about you. Apparently they tried to ring this afternoon to check that you were all right. I’ve explained the situation to them and your mother said you weren’t to worry, and that they would be back tomorrow after lunch.’
So she wasn’t to worry, Christy thought grimly as she allowed Dominic to take her bag and then waited impatiently while he locked the back door. How was she supposed to feel, forced to spend the night with the man she loved, knowing how little he desired her? She only hoped that he gave her a bedroom with a lock on the door, so that she wasn’t tempted to sleepwalk into his bedroom and betray herself completely.
‘Oh, I’m not worried at all,’ she assured him nastily, refusing to allow him to help her into the Land Rover, ‘but Amanda might be if she knew that the two of us were spending the night together.’
He was right, she was behaving like an absolute brat, she thought guiltily, watching the angry flush of colour seep up under his skin. She only hoped that he wouldn’t realise that it was sheer jealousy that was making her so objectionable.
‘Spending the night together is hardly the way I would describe our situation.’ He practically gritted the words through his teeth, throwing them over his shoulder at her as he started the engine. ‘And even if we were, what possible reason could Amanda or anyone else have for objecting? We are both, after all, consenting adults, even if one of us isn’t behaving like one.’
She had the grace to squirm a little uncomfortably on her seat. ‘It’s hardly my fault if everyone round here thinks of you and Amanda as an established couple,’ she muttered.
One darkly raised eyebrow informed her that he suspected the truth had been subjected to some imaginative expansion.
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Christy. It might suit you to believe that I sublimated my need for Amanda in making love to you in the same way you sublimated yours for David Galvin, but you won’t get me to swallow such an unappetising lump of fiction simply to soothe your conscience.’
‘But you were dating her.’ Why on earth was she being so stubbornly persistent? Dominic had turned out into the lane now and she could see his house up ahead of them in the glare of the headlights.
‘Was I? You seem to know more about our relationship than I do,’ he said drily. ‘I thought we were simply thrown together by force of circumstances.’
‘But you…’
On the point of reminding him that he had gone to London with the other girl, she suddenly realised what a dangerous path she was treading and closed her mouth firmly before she could endanger herself any further.
‘Stop looking for excuses, Christy.’ His voice was harsh, and edged with temper. ‘What happened between us happened, and I for one don’t regret it.’
He stopped the Land Rover with a jerk that made it slide forward a few feet, jolting Christy slightly against her seat belt. As she straightened her body she could feel her heart pounding like a steam engine.
‘I’m tired of getting the cold-shoulder treatment. I’m sorry if I wasn’t the man you wanted to take your virginity, more sorry than I can say.’ He sounded tired now, and guiltily she realised what a strain the whole afternoon must have been for him. ‘If you want me to apologise for making love to you, or to say that I regret it, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.’
For the first time since she had known him, he turned his back on her and got out of the Land Rover without either waiting to help her or checking that she was following him.
He had reached the door before she realised how cold she was and managed to stumble after him.
He had switched on the hall light, and its harsh glare illuminated the tension in his face. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but what could she say? That she didn’t regret it either; that…but no, she couldn’t say that, otherwise he might think…
What? That she might welcome his lovemaking again? That she might be agreeable to just that sort of brief affair she knew would tear her apart?
‘Dominic, can’t we declare a truce—just for tonight?’
He looked down at her for a long time, his eyes glittering oddly between the black fringe of his lashes. He was looking at her almost as though he resented having to do so…almost as though…her stomach lurched and she touched her tongue to her lips nervously.
‘For God’s sake, don’t do that. Aren’t things bad enough as they are, without you behaving like a provocative…’ He broke off and swore as he saw her face, reaching for her, but it was too late, Christy was already backing away from him and running out into the freezing darkness, his words hammering relentlessly against her brain as past and present met and merged, and she was once again that vulnerable seventeen-year-old who had gone to him with the gift of her love and her body, and had been rejected.
‘Christy…’ She heard him call her name, but it scarcely penetrated the turmoil of her thoughts. The snow was too thick for her to run, but she stumbled on, not knowing where she was going, only that she had t
o escape.
When Dominic grabbed hold of her from behind, she cried out and turned to push him off, but her feet slipped and she fell backwards into the thick snow, taking Dominic with her.
His weight crushed the breath from her lungs, the cold sting of the snow on her face and the shocking awareness of losing her balance making her shiver convulsively beneath him.
‘Christy—my God, are you all right?’
She had started to cry, huge, gulping sobs that tore at her throat until it was raw with pain from trying to drag in lungfuls of icy cold air. She could feel the warmth of her own tears on her face as Dominic levered himself up off her.
He picked her up, striding back to the house, carrying her into his study.
Oh God, if he had brought her to any room but this! Snow clung to her clothes, but he seemed unaware of it as he sat her in front of the fire and started to tug off her wellington boots.
‘Christy, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…’ His words were a husky, pleading sound that washed against her ears, without their meaning really penetrating. She shivered, protesting between sobs as he pulled off her socks and rubbed her freezing feet.
‘Christy, listen to me… It was just my vile, abominable temper. I never meant…’
She heard him curse and the sound penetrated, her blank eyes focusing on his face.
‘Come on. Let’s get you out of these wet things.’ He spoke to her as gently as though she was a child, and like a child she sat lethargically and let him strip her down to her underwear and then wrap her in a warm towel that he brought down from upstairs.
‘You stay here. I’ll go and make us both a hot drink.’
By the time he came back she had herself under control. When he came in with two mugs of coffee she said huskily, ‘I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to do.’
‘We all do stupid things at times.’ He looked so sombre and drawn that she yearned to cradle his head against her breast and comfort him.
