Fire Under Snow (12 page)

“I see what you mean about her deceptive appearance. Given the choice, I'd rather take on Caesar's invading legions than your aunt. She's a very high-powered little lady.”

Lorraine had to smile. “If you're saying that it makes life a whole lot easier to go along with her wishes, I agree. You're not angry at being steamrollered into staying here, are you?”

“I'm secretly delighted. This beats hotel accommodation any day.” Looking relaxed and absurdly comfortable in the fireside wing chair, he announced languorously, “I'm glad I obeyed the impulse to come with you.”

She sent him a quizzical look. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to draw anything from him in that oblique way, she tried a more direct approach. “You never actually spelled out why you wanted to come. What motivated the impulse?”

“I spelled it out very precisely. To be with you.”

“Flattering, but not the truth.”

“Since you know – you tell me.”

“I don't
know
, not positively.” She gave him a glance from beneath her lashes, and it was fortunate for her peace of mind that she did not know how provocative she looked. “I know you had a bee in your bonnet about Sir William. I don't think you believed that I was coming here to visit Aunt Leonora. You thought I was going off somewhere with him.”

His mood altered with a suddenness that was frightening. His jaw tightened, and the bite and derision returned to his tone. “And you think I was so keen to find out – it was so important for me to know – that I would move heaven and earth to alter my plans, rearrange my work schedule at a moment's notice?”

“No,” she said, looking chastened as she saw the absurdity of her reasoning.

“There wasn't any reorganizing to do, as a matter of fact,” he said bluntly. “I found some unexpected time on my hands with little idea of what to do with it.”

She didn't say that she didn't believe him, and the shaking of her head was barely perceptible as she lowered her chin and fixed her eyes on her hands, as though the answer should be there within her grasp. There had to be another explanation. The one Noel had given didn't seem at all like him. Much too indecisive.

She looked up suddenly and found him regarding her with an expression she had detected once or twice before, not taunting or challenging, or even sensual, but – puzzled. As if he found his own actions every bit as mystifying as she did.

Nothing was resolved in her mind, yet an odd feeling of peace was creeping over her, which was a refreshing change from the usual effect his presence had on her. At the same time, she knew that could be changed by a flick of those dark, dominant eyebrows. A look was all that was needed to tauten her nerves and make her cringe from him in fear of giving away the state of her treacherous heart.

“I suppose I should go up and give Aunt Leonora a hand,” she said, but she spoke reluctantly and not as though seeking a means of escape. She had tried running away, and that hadn't worked. For some reason, perhaps it was nothing more than feminine perversity, she didn't want to drag herself away from him at this moment when they were alone. And yet, to be alone with him was to want his arms about her.

Which of them planted the idea in the other's mind? Did he, by that strange power he had over her that allowed him to dominate her thoughts, put the fancy there? Or did he read it on her face and respond to it? No matter. He leaped out of his chair, and she was where she wanted to be.

If she was the instigator of this, how foolish it was of her. It was so good to be in his arms, to let her lips respond with fervor to the fierce possession of his mouth; but even as the flame of passion reached an all-time high, her heart dropped in swift dismay.

With her aunt upstairs and the possibility of her bursting in on them at any second prevalent on both their minds, she could enjoy this daring moment, safe in the knowledge that he could not take advantage of her willingness to yield to him. The danger, as the frightened swoop of her heart had been quick to recognize, was in the reckoning that would surely come. Now she could draw back, but later, when time and place were on his side, he would see to it that she didn't back out of the promise she unwittingly kept making.

Suddenly his arms dropped away and she was free. His fingers somewhat awkwardly attempted to smooth her hair. Suspecting that he had heard something she hadn't, she listened. Sure enough, her aunt's footsteps sounded as she descended the stairs.

“That's a remarkably heavy step for such a dainty female. Most obliging of her,” he observed, gaining speedy self-composure. Much to her chagrin, her pulse was still fluctuating wildly and her emotions were tied in knots.

As a further tactful touch, her aunt rattled the doorknob before entering. “You're free to go upstairs now, Noel, if you wish. Your room's all ready. I thought you might like to go up and unpack and perhaps freshen up before dinner.”

“Surely,” he replied, the easy charm he seemed to have reserved exclusively for her aunt back in place.

Before she could say, “I'll unpack later,” seeing this as her chance to have a word with her aunt while Noel was out of the way, Leonora forestalled her. “You can give me a hand with the meal, Lorraine, and do your unpacking later.”

It was soon apparent to Lorraine that her aunt had not anticipated her need but had words of her own to air. Following her into the kitchen, and asking what she could do to help, she was surprised to hear Leonora say, “Everything's done. We always have such a lot to talk about when you first arrive that I didn't want to waste my time cooking, so I opted for an easy casserole, something that wouldn't spoil if you were held up. It's simmering away in the oven. I've got a melon to start with, which is sitting in the fridge, and that good old standby, cheese and biscuits, for dessert, so don't have any worries on that score. Now, I want to know all about Noel. I'll start you off by saying that now I've seen him I know you have another reason, apart from lack of avarice, for wanting nothing from Jamie except your freedom.”

“Aunt Leonora, the second most important thing you need to know about Noel is that he's the head of the recording company that's got Jamie under contract.”

“I get the impression that there's something about the situation that is not as it should be. Perhaps you'd better tell me the most important thing I need to know about Noel.”

“He doesn't know I'm married. He doesn't even know that I know Jamie.”

“Isn't that rather foolish of you? Honestly, Lorraine, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You've nothing to be ashamed of, except perhaps not recognizing the weakness of Jamie Gray's character. You should tell Noel. If he's serious about you, it's his business to know. You could find yourself in a very complicated situation.”

“I already have, Aunt Leonora. I never meant it to happen like this. I knew I was out of my depth with Noel. Yet I needed someone like him, a cut above the ordinary, to give me back my confidence after the knock I received from Jamie.”

“Something I haven't been able to give you, even though I've been telling you for over twelve months now that you look just as good as before.”

“Don't be hurt. You are my dear, kind, caring aunt. You're biased. A man took my confidence away; a man had to give it back to me. If that man happened to have a reputation where women are concerned, so much the better. Noel can have his pick. That makes me special. How terribly vain I sound, but I can't help it.”

“Oh, my love,” despaired Leonora, looking at her niece through eyes that were suddenly brighter than normal. “After all you've been through – the way you looked – the pain you endured so bravely, my darling, during the mending, healing process, with hardly a moan or a protest passing your lips. You've earned the right to be vain. Sir William warned me that the worst scars weren't physical, that the mental scars would take longer to erase. He's been proved right, damn him, but at the time I didn't think he knew what he was talking about. I do know that when I first saw you in the hospital, I came home and wept.”

“Jamie wept in front of me. He said I was –” She hid her face in her hands. “I can't repeat it, but he said things I thought would live forever in my mind. If he loved me, he wouldn't have seen me as a freak when I was hurt. If he really loved me, surely the accident would have made him love me even more.”

“What you are saying is that Jamie never loved you. His feelings were shallow and never rose above a purely physical level. When you stopped being desirable in his eyes, he left you. You must know that you were well rid of him.”

“I do, yes. But he left me with a terrible bitterness inside. I got it into my head that no man would ever want me in that way again. When Noel made it obvious that he did, I was part way to being cured. I shall always be grateful to him for that.” She didn't add, “whatever happens,” but the implication rested in the air.

It was this which her aunt replied to. “In this life, relationships don't come with written guarantees. Sometimes you've got to take a chance.” Was there a pensive note in her tone, as if she'd missed hers? She seemed to give herself a mental shake, and then said with more briskness, “What's the real problem, Lorraine?”

“I went in with my eyes open. From the beginning I knew that Noel wanted to seduce me. And, if I'm honest, that was part of the attraction for me. After Jamie, it was what my ego needed. I won't blame Noel; you see, I think perhaps I brought it upon myself. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I played it that way. Subconsciously, I wanted it to be an obsession with him, so that when I'd driven him half crazy with longing I could revenge myself by doing what Jamie had done to me. Walk away. If that was my intention, it's bounced back on me. I've done something very silly. Against all the rules, I've fallen in love with him.”

“Oh,
that
,” Leonora said on a careless laugh. “You don't have to tell me that. I can see it on your face every time you look at him.”

“I hope you can't. That would make me much too vulnerable, because he doesn't love me. Nothing's altered for him. What do I do now? I'm finding it impossible to walk away from him. And when I do, he follows me,” she said with a tiny grimace of a smile. “But if I don't make the break ...” She shook her head to emphasize the point. “No one in her right senses wants to gratify that kind of obsession. I simply don't know how much longer I can hold out against him. Oh, darling Aunt Leonora, I hope I haven't shocked you.”

“What do you think I'm made of? I'm not going to wilt at a touch of realism.” The tears that had been quick to come to her eyes in compassion were just as speedily glazed over with laughter. “You are extremely conceited if you think your generation invented permissiveness. Which generation gave yours the name tag, do you think? Could they do that without knowing what it's all about? My grandmother – your great-great-grandmother – used to say there was nothing new under the sun. It had all happened to someone at sometime before. And she was right, bless her. I remember another of her sayings. It went something like this: ‘Men have always had to be chased to the altar, but the girls who got them there weren't always chaste.'”

“I don't know about that,” Lorraine laughed.

“Good,” her aunt said. “A smile at last. Seriously, though, Noel is made of sterner stuff than Jamie. I can see he wouldn't be an easy man to have a relationship with. I'd prefer to have him as a friend than a lover.”

That remark startled Lorraine. She hadn't believed her aunt to be so perceptive. She had been convinced that the friendliness of the chatter between Noel and her aunt had hidden the electric tension he radiated whenever Lorraine was near.

But when she said as much her aunt merely laughed. “Shock waves fly across the room between you. My goodness, if you can stand the pace, you'll have a terrific partnership. A man like Noel could lead you into ecstasy.”

“Yes, but where would that leave me, when he eventually did?”

“You can't be sure he would ever want to leave you.” Leonora touched her brow in despair, a gesture that softened the sting of her rebuke. “You never used to be such a pessimist. Jamie's doing again, I suppose.”

“I am trying to be realistic. I came into Noel's life at a time when he was bored with insincerity and that streak of hardness underlying the affectations of the women with whom he associated. He sees me as sweetness and innocence – but what's that? Nothing more than a bloom that wears off, and when it does, when his interest cools as it well might, my heartache will be all the greater for having experienced the bliss.”

“I can't, in all honesty, advise you. I have no sizzling experience in my past to draw upon, more's the pity. But I still think you've got Noel wrong.”

“You mean that's what you hope,” Lorraine corrected her. “You haven't known him long enough to form an opinion.”

“True, but –” Leonora shrugged her shoulders. “Suddenly I don't feel as worried about you, so explain that. Come on, time to stop discussing the brute and feed him.”

“There have been times when I've felt like feeding him to the lions,” Lorraine replied wryly. “Aunt Leonora?”

“Yes, my pet?”

“Don't land me in the soup, will you? Don't let anything slip about Jamie.”

“I'll be on my guard. But don't be silly about this, will you, Lorraine? You should tell him about your marriage. And soon. The longer you leave it, the harder it's going to be.”

“I know. I'll tell him as soon as we get back home. And that's not procrastinating; it's just that I don't want to provoke an awkward situation while we're here. It wouldn't be fair to you, and, anyway, he needs this holiday.”

“You're surely not suggesting that he'd storm off and return home?”