AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In the luxurious bathroom her face stared back at her from the mirror, deathly pale beneath the bedraggled hair, and with a new, shadowed expression hovering round the eyes. She looked back at herself a moment longer, then tore off her underclothes and, stepping into the shower cubicle, scrubbed herself all over and shampooed her hair.
There was an apricot towelling wrap on the door. Back in the bedroom, she slipped it on, dried her hair, then curled up on the window-seat, her chin on her hands, gazing out. In the hotel garden the trees were swaying to and fro, outlined against dark clouds driven along by the wind that was shrieking in the eaves above her. Desperately she fought to subdue her thoughts and feelings, but, mirroring the wildness outside, they tumbled chaotically round and round in her mind . . .
A brisk knock roused her. She went slowly across and, unlocking the door, saw Jared, dressed in a black robe, bare-legged, his hair still damp from his shower. Instinctively she went to close the door in his face, but he put up a hand, forcing it back, and walked in past her.
'What do you want?' Her voice was brittle.
'I thought you might be scared.'
'Scared?' The word crackled with barely suppressed hysteria. 'Jared, I've had twenty-six years of winter storms.'
'Yes, but this is as wild as any I can remember.'
They were standing side by side, reflected in the pale lamplight on the window-pane, and he turned to her, his eyes glinting. 'I wonder if it was a night like this when Tristan's kingdom disappeared beneath the waves just out there.'
In spite of herself, she shivered. 'Stop it, Jared. You're only trying to frighten me.'
'Now, would I do that?'
That lazy note was in his voice, and she felt the anger stir in her. He was so damned relaxed tonight—in fact, all day, while her nerves had been jumping a dozen which ways at once, he'd been completely laid-back. And suddenly she wanted to leap at him to release the twanging tension, claw at him—and punch him—and take him in her arms and —
Abruptly she swung away, fighting to control the erotic images which went-bubbling up like slow poison from ha subconscious. I don't want to, she told herself fiercely, then looked up at him, her eyes blank. 'Sorry—what did you say?'
'Do you want dinner?'
'Oh, yes, please.'
The sooner they'd eaten, the sooner she could lock her door on him again, anaesthetise her brain with a couple of hours of TV, then sleep until it was time for that helicopter to take off.
'I'll tell them we're ready, then.'
Dropping down beside the bedside phone, he dialled. 'Thank you, yes, we'll have it now. What? Oh, in my suite, I think.'
As he replaced the receiver she said mutinously, 'I want to eat in the dining-room.'
'Sorry, my sweet,' he sounded intensely regretful, 'but they're redecorating it. Didn't you notice the smell of paint downstairs?'
'No.' She hadn't been in any state to notice anything at all beyond her own whirling emotions.
'Well, come on, then.'
She clutched the neck of her robe to her. 'They mustn't see me like this in your room. I'll get dressed.'
Jared ran his fingers over her dress, still steaming by the radiator. 'It's soaked. If you must, hide yourself in here till they've brought the meal. I'll rap on the wall.'
And, with a last, easy little smile, he strolled out.
C HA PT E R TE N
'You're sure I can't tempt you?' Jared held the bottle of sparkling wine out to Petra invitingly.
'I've already told you—no, thank you,' she replied stiffly.
Gathering the plates together, she put them on the trolley, then carefully re-belted her robe, drawing it even more tightly around her. Even though she had replaced her bra, panties and slip by the time Jared's imperious summons came, she felt very ill at ease under the apricot robe. And it didn't help that it was so obvious that, beneath his own black robe, Jared was wearing absolutely nothing.
'You do disappoint me, Petra.' He topped up his crystal flute, then returned the bottle to the silver ice bucket.
'Yes, I'm quite sure I do,' she responded through tight lips.
