Caprice (9 page)

his head, and the housekeeper left.

She stared into her cup, fine bone china, and concentrated on sitting

very still. His eyes ran over her slowly, and she could almost feel it

as a physical touch. A muscle bunched in her jaw, a quick pulsing

reflex.

'What an enigma you are,' he said then, leaning forward to put his

elbows on the dark grained wood. 'Contradictory, sympathetic, light-

hearted, angry, inconstant. Unfathomable, when you choose. Shall I

hazard a guess?'

'Would I be able to stop you?' she asked mockingly, though not

unkindly. She sent a fleeting glance at him, and found him smiling at

her, dark head angled.

He didn't bother to answer that. 'I think,' he said softly, and she nearly

jumped out of her skin when she felt a finger touch delicately at her

rigid jaw. 'I think that you're fully aware that J find you very

attractive. And I also think that you're attracted to me.' The finger

traced down her neck. She turned her face away and stared blindly

across the room. 'And far from the mindless unreliability you seem to

wish to convey, I believe you're motivated by a whole complex rash

of reasoning I can only guess at. There's a deep person in that lovely

body, underneath all those layers. It's just a matter of finding her.'

That muscle in her jaw was not rigid. It was trembling, and she

turned to stare into Pierce's eyes. 'How amusing,' she said, and was

shocked at herself for, instead of it coming out lightly as she'd

intended, the words, and her face, were stark.

His eyes quickened. His hand then went under her shirt collar to cup

the nape of her neck. She told herself she should want to draw back,

but her head felt heavy, willing to be propelled to him as he leaned

forward and kissed her with gentle, open lips. Her eyelids fell.

Neither heard the sounds of people approaching. Caprice felt as

though she were falling deep into the sensation of his warm, curved

lips and the coffee scent within his mouth. There was a noise at the

open doorway. She saw Pierce draw back, and then turn his head to

look, quite calmly. In turn, she knew he must have seen the startled,

shaken awareness that she felt quiver over her features, but she could

not control it.

She deliberately took an extra second, forcing herself under control

while Pierce exchanged greetings with his mother, Jeffrey, and

Roxanne. Then she turned very blandly and smiled at the three,

noting the various reactions of rage, jealousy, and sheer, simple

consternation.

Later that morning, after the others were downstairs, an idle

discussion was held as to how they would spend their time until the

first of them had to leave that afternoon. Pierce had excused himself

from the dining room with a quiet word, and a strange look at

Caprice. Jeffrey was ignoring her for the moment, and Roxanne acted

thoughtful and withdrawn. Why life had to be so unnecessarily

complicated, she wearily did not know.

Quite soon, the possibility of swimming was brought up for, as Ralph

put it, though the weekend had been balmy today it was actually

quite hot. Caprice kept silent, with a rather set expression, as the

others quickly and enthusiastically agreed that a swim in the lake

would be nice, and so it was settled. With a wry twist of her mouth,

she looked at Roxanne, who suddenly looked quite understanding,

for the brunette was the only one who knew her well enough to be

aware of her aversion to deep water.

The group tramped upstairs to change into swimsuits if they had

brought one, or to borrow one from Jeffrey, as the family kept several

in various sizes for just such an occasion. Roxanne stopped Caprice

just outside her door.

'Look, you don't have to swim if you don't want.'

She smiled at her friend, feeling warmed. 'I don't mind, really. I don't

have to go out over my head if I don't like, and can adequately paddle

around in the shallow water. Besides, it'll feel good.'

'Well,' Roxanne said, wavering. 'You should have said something.'

'And make a big deal over something stupid when everyone else

wanted to? No, thank you.' Caprice pushed open her door, and with a

flashing smile threw over her shoulder, 'Beat you downstairs!'

But she didn't, for she took the time to braid her silver blonde hair to

keep it out of her eyes, and consequently was the last outside. The

heat, magnified by the concrete path, hit her bare arms and legs

pleasantly, and she had to slit her eyes against the sun's bright glare.

The boats were all to one side of the pier, which left the other side

and the end free for diving off. The others were already in the water,

several attempting to play volley ball, while Ralph clambered out to

launch powerfully into a somersault dive off the pier's end. She

winced as he hit the water with a skin- splitting slap, to surface

laughingly.

But what caught and held her attention, sending an odd shiver down

her spine, was the sight of Pierce, who had apparently come out

directly after leaving the dining room. He was off to one side in a

lounge chair, black hair gleaming wet and slicked from his strong

forehead, naked torso gleaming gold and, sleek, narrowing to slim

hips encased in brief, dark blue trunks. He was reading through some

papers, with a folder lying on the grass beside him, aloof from the

others. Her gaze skittered down his long, lean legs, muscular and

masculinely shapely, and then she determinedly ignored him as she

walked with every appearance of calm to the lake's edge.

Body sleek and lusciously tanned in her borrowed black one-piece

swimsuit, she walked gracefully and sedately into the water until it

reached her chest, and then she launched into a leisurely dog paddle.

Emory greeted her with such warmth that Petra looked briefly

stricken, and Caprice could have kicked him. But in the next instant

she started to smile and, as it certainly couldn't hurt his cause any if

Petra were made just a bit jealous, she responded with a low, intimate

reply, and a brilliant laughing glance.

After several minutes, holding herself aloof from the rougher water

play, she decided she had put in a respectable showing and turned to

make back for shore.

Jeffrey called out, laughingly but with an edge in his voice that had

not been present before that morning, 'Don't tell us you're leaving the

water already, Caprice? You haven't even got your hair wet.'

The others took no notice, but his voice had carried over the water.

She saw fleetingly that Pierce had raised his dark head. Roxanne

turned her head sharply. After a moment, she said, with every

appearance of normality, 'I don't feel like washing my hair later,

that's all.'

She looked at Jeffrey. He gave her a glittering smile. 'Pierce doesn't

like to be disturbed when he's working,' he said, with soft

maliciousness.

She looked as surprised as she felt, for, paddling around in the water

and concentrating on keeping her smile on her face, she hadn't even

thought of Pierce. Then a flashing anger, lent a cutting edge to her

voice as she said, 'Grow up, Jeffrey.'

She turned back to shore, her toes sinking lightly into the silken sand,

which, with the water lapping under her breasts, was comfortably

within reach. Behind her, she heard an odd, angry little laugh, and

then a small splash.

A sharp, urgent shout of warning from Roxanne shocked her. 'Cap,

look out! Quick -'

In that instant she knew a sheer, unadulterated terror bolt through her.

In that instant, too late, she launched for shore, managing only a

strangled, 'God!'

In that instant, too late, she felt two hands, like horrible manacles,

fasten around her slim ankles, and she was yanked under the surface

before she had time to draw in a sobbing breath. The last thing she

heard as the water closed over her head was Roxanne's furious shout.

Dead silence, dead silence, roaring blood in her ears, no breath. She

fought convulsively, in deep panic, but the water hampered her

movements and he was far too strong. Nightmare seclusion, no air,

thrashing limbs and a dark terror numbing her mind. Black death, no

breath, oppressive water bearing her down, dead silence, paralysing,

paralysing.

She fought herself as much as he, knowing eternity as a torment.

Don't fight. Don't panic.
God, she was panicking. She tried, one last

time, to push back that overwhelming, mind robbing terror.
Phobias

are irrational.
But it was too late, the eternity had caught up with

her, and so had the terror, swamping her mind like the water had

swamped her body, black and total, black and total; she knew she

was drowning, she knew despair. A sob broke from her snarling,

panic- rigid lips, and water filled her mouth. Perhaps five, certainly

not ten, seconds had passed. She curled tight, and motionless.

But then movement exploded under the water, that motionless, death-

filled tomb that rotted at her strength and took away her reason. The

manacles at her ankles abruptly loosed her, but she couldn't move her

locked, trembling limbs and felt herself drift. Another sob, and she

swallowed water the wrong way, immediately retching, swallowing

more, seeing dancing spots behind her eyelids as a true unconscious

blackness roared at her like an oncoming train.

Her head broke water at the same moment as hard, compelling hands

snatched at her. Open, blinking eyes seeing nothing r but streaming

wetness and golden brown skin. Her head bent to the water, mouth

open; she tried to breathe, tried to retch, coming out with a strangled,

choking sound. Her shoulders, under the impersonal hands,

convulsed as she weakly tried to sob. Then the sounds hit her of

Roxanne screaming at Jeffrey, in a rage, 'You damned idiot! You

stupid jerk!'

Through it all, Jeffrey said, stunned and blank, 'What's wrong with

her? What happened?'

She couldn't move her limbs, couldn't do anything but shake horribly

and loathe the water so dangerously near, so ready to suck her down.

Then Pierce said, directly in front of her and shocked to a whisper,

'My God.' Blinking her eyes to clear them of the water, all she could

do was stare at him, uncomprehending and blank, eyes black and

immense, face pinched, teeth chattering. Everyone else watched,

appalled.

Pierce drew her close, and bent his head. Where had he come from?

Her fingers clutched bruisingly at his upper arms. He pushed her face

to his bare chest, and she tried to say something, but all that came out

was a terrified whimper. Her rigid body was flush to his, and his

arms went around her tightly. He murmured in her ear, soothingly.

But what she heard the loudest was Roxanne's retort to Jeffrey. 'She

can't stand having her head under water, genius! For God's sake, why

couldn't you act your age, and leave her be!'

Pierce said to her quietly, 'Now calm down, sweetheart. It's over, all

over.' The fear began to recede, like low tide. But when he loosened

his arms a bit, she convulsively jerked, drawing her legs up as her

fingers raised welts on his skin. He appeared to be quite unaware.

'I'm not going to let you go. Don't worry, I've no intention of letting

you loose until we're at least out of the water.'

The others couldn't hear what he was saying in her ear, but they

could see her distress. Roxanne asked, voice hushed, 'Cap, are you

OK?'

Tightly, voice catching, she gulped, 'Fine. Be OK in a second.'

'I didn't know,' Jeffrey said. 'I'm sorry.'

Pierce sent a look over her head to his younger brother, eyes like

black steel. After that, he ignored Jeffrey totally, and began to walk

slowly out of the water with her. She heard Emory say,

uncomfortably, 'Uh, anything we can do?'

Pierce said, common-sensible, 'We're going to sit in the sun for a

little while. She'll feel better when she's warmer.' His utterly calm

manner eased the atmosphere considerably, and he was rewarded by

her muscles unclenching. He turned her in his arms, until she was

facing away from the others, and as he felt her legs slowly,

sluggishly begin to take her weight, he withdrew one arm, keeping

the other tight and secure around her waist. Her head was turned to