No Greater Joy (6 page)

He was watching her. 'You do dance, don't you?'

Raymond and Edna would be dancing tonight, celebrating their future. It was ridiculous for Alison to sit around and be miserable. Have fun, Jenny had said.

So she smiled at Clint across the table, her eyes glowing in the candlelight. 'I adore dancing,' she admitted.

The band was enthusiastic. The music was quick and loud, the dances lively. Best of all, they were dances that did not require touching. It came as no surprise to Alison to find that Clint was lithe on his feet. As she laughed at him across the safe space that separated them, she couldn't think when last she'd had such a good time.

The band stopped playing for a while, and Alison and Clint went back to their table for strawberries and cream and more wine. When the music started again, Clint cocked an eye in the direction of the dance-floor, and this time Alison needed no persuading.

And then the mood of the music changed. It became slower, more mellow—golden oldies meant for closeness, for dreaming. For the first time, Clint held Alison in his arms while they danced. Somewhere deep inside her a voice sounded a warning, but the good food and all the wine had had an effect on her, so that the warning was no more than a murmur.

She made no protest when Clint's lips touched her hair, and he drew her against him. She actually found herself enjoying the sensuous movements of the long male body against hers. With the wine dulling her mind, she only knew that it felt good to be close to Clint.

Shock hit her when the band began to play 'In the Mood'.
Their
song—hers and Raymond's. And then Clint begun to hum the tune against her ear, just as Raymond used to do.

She pushed against Clint, who said, 'Relax,' and went on humming as he drew her closer against him. Alison was distraught now. It didn't matter that it was Clint who was humming and not Raymond. She only knew that she couldn't bear it—not tonight of all nights.

So upset was she that she didn't stop to wonder what Clint would think as she twisted out of his arms and hurried from the dance-floor. There was only one thought in her mind—she had to be alone.

Clint came after her. 'Wait!' he was saying as she grabbed her bag, but she didn't hear him. She was only intent on getting out of the place.

She didn't see the curious glances of the other guests as she rushed headlong from the dining-room and through the lobby of the hotel. She didn't notice the darkness outside. She didn't even notice the isolation as she began to run, awkwardly on her high heels, in the direction of the camp some five miles down the road.

When the lights of a car came on her from behind, she shrank into the darkness at the side of the road.

The car shrieked to a halt. A door opened, banged shut, then someone bore down on Alison—an intensely angry man, who didn't seem in the least affected by the sight of the girl quivering like a small wounded animal in the bushes.

'You little fool!' he shouted. 'Get in the car!'

She put out her hands to ward him off. 'No...'

'This minute!'

'I... I'd rather walk.'

'Are you coming out of there? Or do I get you out by force?'

The menace in Clint's tone was not lost on Alison. He \tfould drag her to the car if she didn't co-operate— that was no idle threat.

'I'll come by myself...' she began.

He took her arm as she emerged from the bushes, and propelled her towards the car. There was nothing gentle in the way he bundled her in and closed the door. As the car took the road to the camp at a spanking speed, Alison huddled against her door, as far as she could get from six feet two inches of very angry man.

'Clint...' she said once, tentatively.

'Later,' he advised abruptly, and she was wise enough to leave it at that.

The moment they reached camp, Alison opened the car door, thinking to make a quick getaway to her cabin while Clint was parking the Porsche. But this time he had the wisdom of foresight. In the time it took her to walk three steps away from the car, he had caught up with her, and seized her arm.

'Clint, please...'

'Skip it,' he ordered, and marched her to her cabin.

She had only one hope left—a slight one. While Clint was driving she had taken her key from her bag; it was in her hand now. The moment they reached the cabin she opened the door and tried to walk quickly through it. But any hope she'd had of closing the door in his face vanished as he inserted his foot through the doorway.

'No, you don't!' Clint was in the cabin too now. He flicked on the light, then advanced towards Alison. He looked stern and dangerous.

'Leave me, Clint.' Her head was up, her tone as firm as she could possibly make it, as she tried to hide her fear. 'Please leave me.'

'Sit down.'

She decided to stand her ground. 'I'm very tired.'

'Not that tired. Sit down, I said!'Sensing that Clint Demaine in a temper would be a dangerous man to contend with, Alison decided to comply. She sat down on the little two-seater settee by the window. It was either that or the bed.

Clint didn't sit. He just stood there, looking down at her, and his expression did not fill her with joy.

'What the heck was that all about?' he demanded.

She wetted her lips with her tongue. 'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry?' He spat out the word. 'Sorry? My God, Alison, you behave like a child. And then you think you can brush the whole thing aside by saying you're sorry!'

'But I am—I really am.'

She put her hands in front of her eyes to hide the tears that she was trying so hard to hold back.

'What got into you? I thought we were having a good time.'

'We were,' she muttered.

'That you were relaxed for once.'

'I was.'

'Did I hold you too tight? Was that what frightened you into behaving like an outraged virgin?'

She shook her head. Her throat was so full of tears that it was hard to speak.

Gripping her shoulders, Clint gave her a little shake. 'You have to tell me, Alison. You owe me that much.'

'Raymond...' She swallowed hard on the tears. 'Raymond liked "In the Mood", even though it's an oldie. Mom and Dad have the record at home. We... we used to dance to it, Raymond and I, and he... he would hum the tune in my ear—just as you did.'

Clint's lips tightened. His face was thunderous. 'Good lord, is that what this drama is all about? "In the Mood" brought on such a bout of homesickness for the wretched Raymond that you had to go and behave like a second- rate actress?'

'It's not like that...'

But he was too angry to hear her out. 'Alison Lenox— the independent woman who didn't give a damn for what her man thought when it came to taking a job. Who just went ahead and made her own decisions without even talking to him.'

'I know you're angry, but you don't understand...'

'Too right, I don't! Do you know how I felt on that dance-floor, Alison? All those people watching as you ran from my arms and out of the hotel—as if I'd done something thoroughly indecent!'

'Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about that. I don't blame you for being angry, but you see...'

'All you thought about was how much you were missing Raymond. If you love him so much that the mere sound of another man humming your song throws you into histrionics, then you should have refused my offer, no matter how much you want to buy a horse. You love him, he loves you. Why on earth did you agree to come away with me?'

In a choked voice, Alison said, 'Raymond doesn't love me.'

Clint took a step backwards. He looked stunned.

After a moment he said, 'You've lost me, Alison. Somehow I thought Raymond was the love of your life.'

'I thought so, too.' Her throat was so raw that it felt like sandpaper.

'Perhaps you'd better explain.' His voice was a fraction softer now.

'Raymond left me. We'd had an argument...'

'People do have arguments. You'll make it up.' 'No, we won't.' She looked up at him. Tears hovered^ on her lashes, but her eyes were steady. 'You see, there's someone else. Her name is Edna, and they're getting married.'

'Good heavens!' And then, 'The man must have been an absolute fool to let you go.'

'Do you really think so?

'I wouldn't say so if I didn't.'

There was something in the way he said the words that made Alison feel better. For the first time since she'd run away from him on the dance-floor she didn't feel like crying her eyes out.

'The engagement party is tonight,' she added.

After a long moment Clint said, 'So that's why you were so upset.'

'It's been on my mind all day.'

'No wonder! And yet you agreed to come to the hotel with me.'

'I thought I'd feel better if I was out and having a good time. For a while, I did feel better. I really was enjoying myself. And then...'

'Then I hummed that darn tune in your ear.'

'There's no way you could have known.' She looked at him hopefully. 'Do you... do you understand why I behaved so stupidly?'

'Understand?'
In a second he was by her side, folding his long body beside her into the settee. 'I'd be an insensitive clod if I didn't understand. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell me the truth.'

Awkwardly she said, 'There were reasons.'

Mercifully, he seemed prepared to leave it at that. There were no more questions as his arm went around her and his hand tightened on her shoulder. Alison did not push him away.

It felt so
good
to have some human contact, to feel as if someone cared. It didn't matter that sympathy was probably as much as Clint was offering. She didn't want more from him than that. And although she was trying very hard to be self-sufficient in every possible way, tonight of all nights sympathy was something she could afford to accept.

'Did you come away with me because of Raymond?' Clint asked at length.

'No.' She turned in the circle of his arms and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and alert. 'I wasn't running away.'

'I didn't think you'd be the type to do that.'

'I'm not!' She sounded suddenly fierce. 'Oh, I won't pretend I'm not glad to be away from all the excitement going on at this moment—I am. But I meant what I said about getting my own stables. It's something I've always wanted. The money I earn at Bushveld really will go towards a horse.
That's
why I took the job.'

'In which case,' he said drily, 'I wonder why your first reaction was to refuse me.'

Alison moved her eyes from his. She didn't see how she could tell him that the reason she'd refused him was because he was too attractive.

'I...I suppose I wasn't thinking properly. Does it matter, Clint?'

He laughed softly. 'All that matters is that you did come, and that you're here with me now.'

His other arm went around her, and now he was folding her against his chest. She did not protest when he began to kiss her. His kisses were gentle, and tonight her defences were down. Stronger than all her resolutions was her desire to feel beautiful, to feel
wanted.

Then the kisses deepened, becoming hungrier, more passionate. Demanding a response.

Reality returned quite suddenly. Horrified at what she had allowed Clint to do, Alison stiffened. But he did not seem to notice. One of his hands slid beneath her dress to the soft bare swell of her breasts.

The breath jerked harshly in her throat, and then she was pushing him away from her.

Clint's head lifted. 'What's wrong?*

'You know what's wrong,' she said through tight lips. 'I don't want this.'

'Everything's changed, Alison.'

'Nothing has changed for me.'

He was sitting a little away from her now. His eyes were dark and speculative. 'You don't owe Raymond loyalty any longer.'

'It's not a question of loyalty.' Her throat felt raw. 'You don't understand, Clint. I don't intend to replace Raymond—not with you, not with anyone.'

She heard his hissing intake of breath. 'You're still feeling hurt.'

'But thinking clearly.'

'Alison...' He was reaching for her again.

But this time she eluded him. 'Go, Clint. Please go.'

For a long moment they sat quite still, looking at each other.

'We will make love—one day,' Clint said at last.

'No.'

'When you're ready for it.'

'I'll never be ready.' Alison was beginning to tremble.

His expression changed suddenly. There was a sparkle in his eyes, and his lips lifted at the corners. '"Never" is one word I've always refused to recognise.'

The trembling was becoming worse. 'I need to be alone now, Clint.'

'I'm going.' He smiled at her as he got to his feet. 'Sleep well, Alison.'

The door closed behind him, and she took a long, shuddering breath. Sleep well... She'd be lucky if she slept at all.

A
LISON
was busy with paperwork again the next morning when Clint appeared in the office. He looked so very attractive as he smiled at her from the doorway that Alison was powerless to control a strange stirring within her.

'Working again?'

'Just earning my salary.' She was uneasy with him after what had happened the night before, but she tried to hide her feelings with a smile.

'I'd like you to do something quite different this morning,' he told her.

'Oh?'

'The saddles in the stables could do with a good polish. They're in a sorry state.'

Eyes widening with surprise, she looked at the pile of files in front of her. 'I still have quite a bit to do here,' she said.

'This will keep,' he said easily.

'But, Clint, the counsellors arrive tomorrow, and the campers two days after that.'

'Patricia will be back by then, and she'll deal with what's left.' He grinned at her in pretend disbelief. 'Are you telling me you mind working in the stables?'

The words had her on her feet in a second. 'It's what
I adore!'

Five minutes later she was perched on a low stool in the stables with a pile of saddles, a jar of polish and some cloths on the floor at her feet. With a sigh of pleasure, she took a saddle and began to work on it.