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Authors: Margaret Tanner

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BOOK: A Mortal Sin
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When he finally released her mouth, she trembled so much she had to grab hold of his shirtfront for support. After catching their breath, they started walking again, following the narrow path curving around the garden beds.

“I love you, Daphne.” They stopped beside a huge tree. “You have to believe me, Sunshine, I’ve never said that to any other woman.”

“I do believe you, Paul and I love you desperately, but it’s too soon. It doesn’t seem, well decent somehow. We know so little about each other.”

“We can learn as we go along. Would you be prepared to live in England?”

“What!”

“I mean, if we got married.”

“Marriage!”

“Would you, I mean, could you leave you family, your nursing, everything and come with me?”

It would be a wrench to leave everything she held dear. To have her plans and aspirations thrown into chaos. Even with the black clouds of war hanging over Europe, Daphne knew there was only one answer she could give. She only felt truly alive now when she was with him. “Yes,” she replied firmly. “I would go anywhere, do anything for you,” she vowed. No sacrifice would be too great for Paul.

“We don’t have a lot of time, I mean a couple of months at most then I have to return home. I want to take you with me as my wife, but first I must tell you, my real...”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? Everything you told me is the truth.” He detected fear in her voice, a frantic hoarseness that tore at his heart, filling it with dread.

He swallowed quickly before answering. “Yes, I’ve told you the truth about myself.” But he hadn’t, this thing between them was so new, so precious and tenuous, he dared not risk saying anything now. Why on earth had he been stupid enough to let Ian persuade him, and he must warn Jean to watch what she said. God, what a mess he had made of things.

There was still the old man to worry about. He was convinced that Hitler and his Nazis would plunge the world into war again and he wanted his only son home before it started. Sir Phillip would not be impressed with Daphne’s working class background, or his thwarted plans for a marriage with Caroline Bowater. He can cut me off without a penny. I will never give Daphne up. It would be easier to stop breathing.

He would buy them a place in the country, well away from London, so if a war did come as the old man predicted, Daphne would be safe. He could start up some business of his own completely independent of Sir Phillip.

“You’ll have to come home with me at Christmas. I want Mum and Dad and the boys to meet you.”

“Yes, I’ll have to speak with your father about us. He wouldn’t withhold his consent would he?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He mightn’t like me taking you all the way to England. You could come back once or twice a year for holidays, or they could come to us. But right now I suppose I should get you home. We can go out for dinner tomorrow night. The Windsor, I think, to celebrate.”

“I start afternoon shift, we don’t finish until eleven.”

“What time do you start?”

“Two o’clock.”

“Hell, nine hours? I don’t want you slaving away like that, it’s too much. Resign tomorrow. Tell them you’re getting married.”

“No, it wouldn’t be fair. I have to at least see the year out. They’re short staffed so I couldn’t let them down, no matter how much I want to be with you.”

She rubbed her cheek against his arm. “You could take me to lunch at the Windsor, I’ve never been there before.”

“All right, lunch it is. What kind of ring would you like?” He nuzzled the soft skin of her throat, before blazing a trail of fiery kisses up to her earlobe.

“Ring?”

“An engagement ring, silly.”

“I don’t know.”

“We could pick something out together.” He stepped back a pace.

“You’ll have to speak with Mum and Dad first, before announcing anything official. They won’t object, I’m sure, not once they meet you, but they would be terribly hurt if they found out from someone else.”

“Of course, anything you say. I’m glad you’re such a caring person. I’m pretty selfish, so hopefully some of your generosity will rub off on to me.”

They did not speak on the drive home, words were unnecessary, and would break the magic aura surrounding them. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other draped across Daphne’s shoulders.

 His goodnight kiss at the door was a long one.

“I’m sorry I can’t invite you in for tea, but...”

“Shh, it’s all right, Sunshine, I understand.” He put a finger to her lips, thinking it was for the best anyway. Once he got inside he would want to stay. They would have to be married soon. He wanted her so desperately he feared losing his head one of these nights and asking more of her than he should.

“I love you so much I’m frightened something is going to spoil things for us.”

“Silly girl.” Regretfully he put her aside. “I’ll pick you up about ten so we can shop around for a ring before lunch. After work, we could have supper somewhere.”

“I usually sleep in at the hospital.”

“Oh, my darling, when am I supposed to see you?”

“If you like you could meet me after I finish, I only sleep at the hospital to save going home alone.”

“I’m a selfish swine.” He pulled her back into his arms and held her close, resting his chin on her soft, shiny hair. How good it smelt. “It’s just that I want you with me all the time. I hate the idea of sharing you, even with your work. I’ll be a jealous, possessive husband.”

“I’ll be that way myself, but if there’s anything you have to do on your own, travel for work, I mean, I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

“You’re sweet and unselfish, but we can travel together, anywhere we have a mind to.”

 

* * *

 

When Paul arrived next morning he wore a navy suit. His kiss, a long lingering one, sent her heart cart-wheeling.

“How’s my sweet girl today?”

“Very well thank you.” Her tone was prim and proper, but her smile was teasing.

They went to an exclusive jeweler and looked at several trays of rings.

“These are too expensive. I wouldn’t expect you to spend so much money on me.” She moved towards the most inexpensive tray; even these prices were more than her father would earn in weeks.

Under his urging she decided on a solitaire diamond ring, with an emerald on either side. Paul also bought a matching heart shaped emerald pendant on a fine gold chain. He put the pendant on her straight away and slipped the ring into his pocket.

Daphne had often passed by the Windsor Hotel, but had never gone inside. It was near Parliament House. Robert Menzies, the Australian Prime Minister, refused to stay anywhere else. These hallowed walls had seen the English Test cricketers, and the old, established pastoral families always stayed here.

Paul must have made a reservation. She felt like royalty as the Maitre de escorted them to a table. Her eyes swiveled upwards to the huge cupola lights, ten feet in diameter at least. Paul laughed at her obvious awe.

What a delight it would be to take Daphne to Paris and Rome, as long as Adolf Hitler and his Nazis stayed in Germany. She was so sweet and unspoiled he must guard her carefully once they returned to England, and keep her out of his father’s clutches.

He hated dropping her off at the hospital and driving home alone. To kill time until she finished work, he would attend to the business side of things and check if the factory had put on any of the men from the soup kitchen.

No way would he tell anyone at home about Daphne. He would arrive with her as his bride. Then it would be too late for the old man to do anything to thwart his plans.

 

* * *

 

Every evening when Paul picked her up from the hospital, they would go for a light supper somewhere or drive to an inner suburban beach. They sometimes strolled through the city streets admiring the Christmas decorations and each night it became harder to part from him.

Three days before the start of her holidays, they planned to eat at a quiet little restaurant not far from Ian’s place.

“Why don’t we walk. It’s such a nice evening,” she suggested slipping her arm through his. It was a magical night. Shining stars popped out from the black velvet sky, and the breeze was enough to cool the heat still rising from the pavement.

When they arrived at the restaurant she was shocked. They refused to let Paul in because he wore slacks with an open necked shirt.

“Who the bloody hell do they think they are?”

It was obvious he had never been turned way from a restaurant before. Furious, he strode off, and she had to run after him.

“You could offer me some tea.” She tried to placate him when they got to Ian’s place.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Ian’s away until after Christmas.” They stood outside Ian’s gate. “He’s housekeeper doesn’t live in.”

“I trust you.” She pushed the gate open and walked through. He followed a step or two behind her.

“Well, you shouldn’t, because I don’t trust myself. I’m mad for you.” He pulled her into a darkened corner of the garden, and his lips were fierce, hungry and determined.

“Paul, I love you so much.”

Common sense warned her they should not go into an empty house together, but she hated their hurried meetings, and the pain of separating after such a short time. Holding hands they sauntered up on to the porch. He unlocked the front door. She hesitated before following him over the threshold.

“What a charming room.” She glanced appreciatively around the sitting room.

“It’s not bad.” His nonchalant acceptance of what she considered luxury was rather disconcerting.

“Would you like me to make our tea?” she asked.

He gave a sudden cheeky little boy grin. “I’m not used to doing for myself, but I can make a decent brew. Could even cook you some toast, if you like.”

“No, just the tea please.”

When he returned Daphne sat in one corner of the couch with her eyes closed, her feet tucked up underneath her. How young and vulnerable she seemed. He hated the fact she worked so hard. It was pure selfishness expecting to see her every night, instead of letting her go straight home to bed. If the Clarke’s agreed, they could be married before the New Year and there would be no need for her to go back to the hospital again.

“Daphne,” he spoke her name softly.

“Oh, you were quick.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“No, just resting my eyes.” She made to move.

“Don’t, if you’re comfortable.” He sat next to her on the couch and picked up her hand.

She swung her legs down to the floor and he glanced at her tiny, shapely feet. Everything about Daphne was dainty and she wore an air of fragility tonight that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Tea, all right?” he queried.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Biscuit?”

She shook her head.

 “They’re your favorite, chocolate,” he persisted.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Aren’t you well?” He drew her hand to his lips. “What is it?” Tell me, sweetheart.”

“I shouldn’t be here like this.” She gave a hunted look around and set her cup on a small side table. “If anyone ever found out my reputation would be ruined.”

“No one will find out.” He pulled her into his arms and felt a tremor of apprehension run through her. “Just a few kisses before I take you home.”

What was meant to be a session of light lovemaking, soon turned into a thing of passion, as he kissed her mouth, her eyes, and the warm vulnerable softness of her throat. He nibbled at her ear lobe, his breath teasing the hair at the side of her neck.

“I’m just about out of my mind with wanting you,” he groaned hoarsely.

He heard her take a short, sharp breath as he maneuvered them until they lay full length on the couch, then he undid the buttons on her blouse and brushed it aside. He slipped her brassiere down, freeing her creamy white breasts. His passion ignited, burning fiercely, completely out of control now.

He kissed her breasts each in turn, circling the nipple and areola with his tongue. Drawing her left nipple into his mouth because it was the closest one to her heart, he suckled it hard, quickly bringing it to life. Never had he tasted anything as sweet as this tight, rosy bud.

 She returned his kisses shyly at first, but quickly gaining in confidence. Slipping her hand inside his shirt, she felt his warm, hair-roughened chest against her fingertips. Emboldened, she caressed his nipple, rolling it gently between her thumb and forefinger until he groaned with pleasure.

They were both trembling with emotion as his hand went up under her skirt, so his fingers could scorch a fiery trail across the quivering flesh of her thighs. She felt him removing her stockings, and her undergarments soon followed. When he eased back a fraction, so he could gaze upon her naked body, she felt no shame only exhilaration and excitement, because his blazing eyes told her, he liked what he saw.

His hands and mouth began a thorough exploration. Not one inch of her body was left unexplored, no secret left unshared. A sudden raging inferno of desire engulfed her. White hot, it seared into her soul and she closed her eyes to block out the heat. A million stars exploded inside her head, so bright did they shine, that she didn’t know how she could endure such brilliance.

Frantically he dragged off his clothes. He came down on top of her, his hands smoothing a path between her thighs so his fingers could gently probe the soft folds of her inner sanctum, until the bud of her ripening womanhood blossomed under his touch.

“Paul.” Momentarily she cried out in pain, but this was soon forgotten as they rocked together in a frenzy of passion, each taking, giving, but still wanting more. With an agonized groan he withdrew just before reaching his ultimate climax.

 “I can’t risk getting you pregnant,” he rasped at her shocked intake of breath. “Withdrawing from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life.” He lifted her tears away with his tongue.

“I’d be proud to have your baby.”

“But not before our marriage, huh. Your father and brothers would be after me with a shotgun for sure if I did. Probably go for me now, too, if they knew. You aren’t sorry are you, my love? I mean, that we anticipated our wedding night.”

BOOK: A Mortal Sin
13.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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