AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She never knew how long they danced; it must have been a matter of a moment because the record was slowing, dragging out the music, needing to be rewound, but for that brief spell they flowed in each other's arms around the sunlit room, in and out of shadows, with the white curtains blowing and their cheeks pressing against each other.
Then Keir stopped and leaned over to wind the gramophone and she had that time to think, her face paling, her heart beating far too fast.
i can't,' she said and Keir looked quickly at her, his brows a black line above his vivid blue eyes.
'Stop running, darling. Start trusting me, you can trust me, Liza. You'll see. I'll never hurt you, never knowingly. I love you.'
'You don't understand!' she cried in anguish, remembering the past, and he held her very tightly, both arms round her.
'I do. You got badly burnt, but it's over, Liza. It's done with, and you have got to forget it or you'll never live fully again. You know I'm right, don't you? It's only common sense.'
'Perhaps,' she said, holding him at arm's length, fighting his arms, her blonde head flung ba
ck in agitation. 'But not with you, Keir. It wouldn't work.'
'Why not?' he frowned, watching her. His eyes saw far too much and she looked down, colour flowing up her face. 'Why not me?' Keir insisted harshly, i thought... are you saying you don't care? I was sure you did.' He suddenly caught her face in both hands and bent to kiss her urgently, his mouth hungry, fierce and hot, forcing down her weak attempt to resist him, wringing a reluctant response from her parted lips, until she stopped fighting altogether and her arms went round his neck as she kissed him back with the same need and passion. Once she had given in, she couldn't stop kissing him, she had been dying to all day, for ages, it seemed to have been for ever.
'Why not me?' Keir whispered at last, lifting his head and looking drowsily at her, his pupils huge and very black. His mouth was smiling in triumph, elation; he glittered with it and she groaned.
'Oh, Keir, listen ... I have a hundred reasons, can't you see?'
'Name one.'
'I can't,' she wailed, 'I mean, I can't get involved with a man like you, I don't belong with all this, or with someone like you.'
'You belong to me and with me,' Keir said, kissing her neck deeply, his mouth pressed deep into her flesh. 'And I belong with you and to you. It's mutual, isn't it? You just told me, your mouth told me, you don't need words! We don't, Liza—we can kiss and know everything, can't we?'
Puzzled, she listened—know everything? she thought. What do I know about him? She had met him such a short time ago, and already she had known a dozen different Keir Giffords: the shabby, teasing man she met that first night in the mist, the elegant one in polo gear and knee-length polished boots, the formal city magnate in his pin-stripes and dark-windowed limousine, and this man, holding her in his arms, kissing her throat, whispering in that deep, husky voice which made her go hot and cold with passion.
But what was he, who was he—the man behind all the faces, the images, those bewildering, changing images of power and vitality?
'Only one thing matters,' Keir said and she was intent, needing to know—what mattered? He looked into her eyes and her body melted. He smiled and she shivered. He slowly brushed her mouth with his and she shut her eyes and moaned.
She was out of control; she had been for a long time now, even while she tried to pretend it wouldn't happen, couldn't happen.
'This matters,' Keir said softly. 'Just this—you and me.'
She was holding the rose he had given her; twisting the green stem in restless, tormented fingers. The thorns ran into her flesh, but she didn't even feel them then.
'But if it doesn't last?' she said. 'What if it all comes apart in our hands? I couldn't bear it, not again.' And she thought with wild helplessness: out of control, I'm out of control—must he look at me like that? He's turning my very bones to water. I wish he'd kiss me, I need to feel his mouth—I'd feel stronger if he would kiss me. Or weaker—but did it matter which?
'Liza, what do you want me to say? We can only try, like everybody else,' he said. 'Every other human being in the world who falls in love has to take the same risks. We're all in the same boat, we all want it to last for ever, but we can never know—we can only do our best, hang on and hope.' He was talking calmly, but his eyes weren't calm. Keir was fighting now, fighting for her; she saw the strain and urgency he was trying to hide and was shaken. Was Keir uncertain, after all? It wasn't like the Keir she had imagined, for she had never seen him on edge or distraught, as she suddenly sensed he could be now, behind that taut face.
'Your family will hate the idea of me . .. and you,' she muttered, frowning, confused and unsure.
'My mother likes you—she knows how I feel and she's happy about the idea.' Keir was watching her coaxingly, wanting her to believe him.
'You told her?' Liza had guessed, though; his mother had dropped more than one hint, and Liza instinctively knew that Mrs Gifford liked her. 'But it's more than that,' she said. 'There's your sister and ... oh, everyone! I don't know if I could face all the fuss and the newspaper gossip and ...'
'Liza,' Keir said, his voice harsh. 'None of this means a damn, you know that. I love you, that's the only thing that matters.'
She tore her eyes away and looked down at the rose she still held. That was when she saw the tiny spots of blood on her fingers and she started to smile, she didn't know why. Keir was right; even if it hurt, love was all that mattered. She slowly held the rose out to him and said huskily, laughingly, 'Mind the thorns!' and Keir threaded the rose through the lapel buttonhole on his jacket, and then he took her in his arms and held her for a long, long time, in total silence. They understood each other without needing to say a word, thought Liza. Why had she ever been afraid of losing control? Her instincts were wiser than she was.
