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Prue had been thinking about that, and a sudden wave of violent hot colour ran up her face. 'Oh, she really meant to get him, didn't she?'
Josh shrugged, his mouth indented. 'She's the age for obsessions; for seeing things just from her own angle.'
'Don't blame her age!' Prue said bitterly. 'She's a Killane—that's why she did it!'
Josh looked at her sharply, eyes narrowed.
'She's her mother's daughter,' Prue flung at him. 'It's the same pattern, isn't it? Your mother stole my father, even though she didn't really want him at all. And David was mine, so your sister had to have him!
I don't suppose this is even the first time she's gone after another girl's man. With some women it just makes it more exciting, knowing they're stealing a man from someone else. He's been very ill and he still isn't back to normal; he doesn't know what he's doing, she's bewitched him into going away with her . . . it isn't David's fault, any of this, it's hers.' She was talking in a high, shaking voice, her eyes feverish and her body trembling, and Josh was staring at her fixedly, his brows black above his black eyes.
'You're hysterical; stop talking like that!' he said curtly, but she wouldn't stop; the words kept pouring out of her in a molten lava, and she felt confused about why she was so sick and angry. She didn't know if the pain was over her father or over David, only that the echo of an old betrayal was sounding in her ears like surf in a sea shell.
Talking helped her to stave off tears, so she kept talking.
'I know now how my mother felt!' she said huskily, swallowing.
'When I remember how fed up I used to get with listening to her . . .
but I hadn't been there then, I didn't know!' She broke off, biting her lower, lip to stop it shaking. 'I should never have come back here, but it never entered my head that I'd lose David, that it might all happen again. I remember being surprised that day she took David flowers, it seemed an odd thing to do, but I misunderstood, I thought she did it to score off me, make me feel thoughtless and stupid because I hadn't thought of giving him flowers, and all the time she had made up her mind there and then to steal him from me, the way your mother stole my father . . .'
Josh slapped her face and the wild, hoarse words stopped in a gasp.
She stared at him, green eyes huge and blank for a second, then the tears welled up in them and Josh grabbed her, his arms round her, while she began to cry, shaking and sobbing.
She let him hold her, her face buried in his chest, the ribbing of his sweater pressing against her skin, although she wasn't aware of it at the time. His hand cupped the back of her head, slowly moved over her hair, gently stroking it, comforting her, while she cried out all the rage and pain which had made her close to hysterical.
She gradually stopped crying but she didn't move, her body still quivering with the hurricane of emotion which had swept through it.
Face hidden against Josh's chest, she fought to control her breathing, sneaked up a hand to brush over her wet face, gave a shuddering sigh.
Then the hand stroking her hair suddenly clenched on a handful of it and pulled her head back.
'Don't!' she protested. 'That hurts!'
Josh didn't let go; his hand ruthlessly enforcing pressure, he made her look up at him, his dark eyes probing her face.
'Isn't it time you were honest with yourself?' he asked, his mouth sardonic, and she frowned, the tear-wet lashes drooping to hide her eyes from him.
'Don't you talk to me about being honest. One of your family has no business mentioning the word honesty to one of mine!'
'You don't love him!' Josh said tersely and she drew a sharp, appalled breath.
'Let go of me!' She fought him breathlessly, her hands curled into fists, punching him, and Josh had to let go of her hair, but only to put both arms around her again, making it impossible for her to get her hands free.
'You . . . you . . . Killane!' she raged. 'Stop touching me like that—I hate it!'
He put his head down close to hers and she hurriedly averted her face, but could not stop his cheek touching her own, or silence his whisper against her ear. 'No, you don't—and you don't love him, either!'
Her face burned, then went white again. 'Do you - think I don't know what you're doing?' she muttered, staring at the kitchen window over his shoulder, watching the sun shine through the leafless branches of a thorn tree, and hating Josh even more than she hated his sister. 'You want me to give David up without a protest. Your little sister wants him, so I must be convinced that I never loved him. We must make it easier for Lynsey, mustn't we? She's a Killane, and the Killanes must always get what they want!'
'You must be fond of him, I'm sure you are,' said Josh coolly, ignoring her accusations. 'But love is very different, Prue—you know that, so don't lie to yourself, even if you feel you must lie to me.' His cheek was against hers, his flesh warm, his skirt rougher than her own as he rubbed his face backward and forward against her cheek. She could smell the musky scent of his aftershave, and hear his breathing, feel his chest rise and fall against her breasts as his lungs drew in air and exhaled it. Their bodies were breathing in the same rhythm, their hearts beating with the same over-rapid excitement.
'Don't talk to me about love!' she broke out, angry with herself as much as him because he was getting to her, just as he always had, right from their first meeting The violence of her reactions to him scared her as much now as it had then, and she was desperate to stop him saying any more. She didn't want to hear the things he was saying; she didn't want them to be true.
'Why not?' he asked softly, a thread of mockery in his voice, turning his head a little so that his mouth moved on her earlobe, the warmth of his breath and his lips making her shudder. 'Why mustn't I talk about love, Prue? Why are you so scared?'
'You're all the same, you Killanes, aren't you?' she said thickly, shifting her head to escape the teasing brush of his mouth.
