Robyn Donald – Iceberg (18 page)

Justin's silhouette in the opening. A rising tide of excitement had to be subdued as her head and her body fought

for supremacy.

Striving for normality, she asked, 'Is she all right?'

‘Yes, she's asleep again.' ,

In spite of his lowered tones she could hear that his voice was once more clear and cold with no trace of the

thick smoothness of before. ...

'Good.'

He didn't move. Neither did Linnet. It was being made quite clear to her that if she went one step towards him

she would no longer be able to tall her soul—or her body—her own. And she could think of no worse fate for

anyone than to love Justin and be his mistress.

After a moment of stressful silence she said flatly, 'I'm glad.'

‘I thought you would be.' He moved then, and came towards her.

Linnet retreated to behind the chair. 'No------' she said thinly. 'No—I'm tired and------'

'Afraid,' he interrupted. 'Of me, Linnet?'

'Yes. And me,' she answered, her misery as obvious as her steadfastness.

There was a swift gleam of white as he smiled.

'Honest as ever! Will you wait a few minutes until you're certain she's asleep and then come along to my room?

It's more comfortable than this.'

The calm effrontery hit her with a body blow. How
could
he, she thought numbly, how could he suggest such a

thing?

'No!' Her voice matched his for iciness as she whipped up a torrent of hatred for him.

'Why not?' Reaching across the chair, he touched her throat,
his
thumb against the thin skin which could not

hide the pulse beating there. 'Why not?' he asked again, almost without interest.

His touch was at once a caress and an intrusion. A pain in her bottom lip made Linnet conscious that she had

been biting it—for how long?

'Because I don't want an affair with you,' she said huskily. Before her self-control deserted her she entreated,

'Justin,
please
go.’

He withdrew his hand, said unemotionally, 'Very well,' and turned and walked away.

Visited by the absurd fancy that he was walking out of her life for ever, Linnet found that her fists were

clenched— across her mouth to prevent herself from calling him back.

At the door he said, 'Goodnight, Linnet.'

'Goodnight!’

It was a brave effort, bravely delivered, and it was enough to convince him, for the door closed silently behind

him as he left.

Like an automaton Linnet swung herself, into bed, pulled the sheets over her and lay there, eyes wide in the

darkness, as she realised with horror just how narrow an ' escape she had had from his practised seduction. Had

Sarah not called out that close embrace would have reached an inevitable conclusion, and Justin would have

become her lover, privy to atl of the secrets of her body, master of her heart and her life.

The images roused by this terrified her as much as they excited her. She could conceive of no greater happiness

than to lie all night against his heart, but not because she happened to be the nearest available woman. Not even

because he desired her. She wanted him to love her, and if the incident had done nothing else, it had revealed

that she needed the commitment of marriage before .she could give herself without guilt or shame. Making love

should be a joyous affirmation of love and trust, not a snatched interlude which gratified only the needs of the

body.

And you can't get more old-fashioned and romantic than that, she told herself, even as her strong sense of

justice forced her to accept that what had happened had certainly not been all Justin's fault. To be sure, he had

begun it, but after that first initial shock, he had received all the encouragement in the world.

Enough to make him think that she would be complaisant enough to go to his bedroom. Restlessly she turned

and pummelled her pillow, bewildered as she often was, but this time with an underlay of pain, which was

merely a continuation and strengthening of the pain she had felt for some time now.

What of Bronwyn? Somehow she could not believe that he would seduce his bride-to-be's sister, however

driven by desire. He had standards, and principles. Surely he and Bronwyn could not be close enough for her

sister to assume that marriage was almost inevitable?

One hand pressed to her aching head, Linnet fought with the jealousy this evoked, unable to make sense of the

situation, except by thinking that Bronwyn had misread the relationship between her and Justin. And that was

probably wishful thinking.

The only other alternative was one she found totally abhorrent, but she forced herself to face it. Perhaps Justin

was the sort of man who saw nothing wrong in making . love to the sister of the woman he intended to marry. If

that was so, men she had fallen in love with a man who was no more than a figment of her imagination. And if

that was so, she decided drearily, if Justin were as callous and lacking in principle as that, then it should be easy

enough to fall out of love with him.

But oh, those moments in his arms had been sweet, a matchless magic of desire and rapture which had almost

transcended the physical, lifting her into realms of the spirit, the existence of which she had never suspected.

At least he had given her that, even if he had spoiled it afterwards by the blunt sensuality of his request. In a

way it was as well that he had been so hatefully practical, for he had forced her to see just how her behaviour 1

appeared to him—as an open invitation to sex, unsoftened by anything like the love she felt.

'You still took washed out,' Sarah told her the next morning, gazing critically at her from the end of the bed.

A sudden smile banished the solemnity of her expression.

‘Well you
were
washed out, weren't you? Washed out and washed up.'

If she could joke about it she was over the worst.

'Hardly,' Linnet told her banteringly. 'I think I look a bit tired because I was woken up in the middle of the

night.'

'I haven't had a nightmare for ages,' Sarah confessed, coming to snuggle in beside her. 'Linnet, Cherry had a

surprise for us last night.'

'And what was that?"

The fair head turned on Linnet's arm, the grey eyes so like her father's looked wistfully pleased. 'She's going to

have a baby. Isn't she lucky?’

'Very.'

'She and Rob and Daddy drank champagne.' A heavy sigh. 'Linnet, would you marry Daddy if he asked you?'

Hoping that she betrayed nothing, Linnet answered very tenderly, 'Darling, you must trust your father to pick

out a nice new mother for you. It's not fair to him—or to me—to harp on this.'

Sarah sighed again, while a funny little smile touched her lips, making her look far more adult than her years.

'O.K., I won't, then, but I wish you would, Linnet. I don't want a new mother, I just want you.'

'I love you too. But loving doesn't always give you what you want.'

'I don't really know what you mean,’ said Sarah, giving her a smack on the cheek before she scrambled out of

the bed, 'but I suppose it's sensible. Linnet, what time is the plane coming?'

From outside came Cherry's voice, cheerful as ever yet with a deeper note of happiness which must be the direct

result of her good news. 'At half past ten, so you'd better hop on out and have your breakfast, Miss Muffet. Your

father is waiting.'

She was carrying a tray which she set down on the bedside table before standing back to regard Linnet with a

faintly quizzical air.

‘You still look a bit pale, but I daresay you'll do. Justin said you woke in the night.’

Oh, did he? With just as much emotion as he had said goodnight, no doubt, heartless autocrat!

'Yes,' and swiftly, 'Sarah tells me you celebrated last night. How lovely for you!'

Taking this for an invitation, Cherry sat down in the armchair. 'Isn't it? We'd almost given up hope, you know.

Eat up, or it will get cold and I know you don't like cold toast.'

'Are you hoping for a boy or a girl—or don't you mind?' asked Linnet, buttering the toast so that Cherry

shouldn't see the pain in her eyes.

'Oh, we don't mind!' Cherry laughed. 'I just hope it isn't the only one. I'd like a couple of kids; I don't think it

does any kid good to be the only one. Look at young Sarah, such a funny, tense little' thing, though she's

improved a lot. Justin says it's all your doing.'

A treacherous warmth invaded Linnet's heart, but her. innate honesty compelled her to say, 'I doubt it. She's

taken a violent fancy to me, but I think it's only because I've taken an interest in her.'

'Yes. Anna has enough to do keeping the house tidy, of course. She's a bit of a fanatic that way. And although

he loves her, Justin is a busy man. I think she's been looking for a substitute mother and hopes she's found one.'

Under Cherry's steady gaze Linnet felt her glance fall. Unconsciously she sighed, saying in a muffled voice,

'Poor little scrap! She wrings my heart, but I...'

Her voice drifted into silence as she looked up, appealing to the other woman's sturdy good sense.

'But you don't want to get too involved; I don't blame you. It is an awkward situation, isn't it?'

'More than that.' Linnet looked troubled, but did not feel inclined to unburden herself to Cherry, spoil her joyous

day with other people's worries. So she smiled. 'Still, we'll see it through, and I’ll do my best not to hurt Sarah.'

'Fair enough.’ Cherry got to her feet. 'And eat everything up! I don't want you feeling squeamish half way to

Auckland.'

Linnet applied herself to the toast with a will; possibly that was why she managed a somewhat bumpy trip back

without any qualms except those of being close to Justin. A very aloof Justin, well entrenched behind that-mask,

the only flicker of emotion in his expression when he spoke 19 Sarah. To Linnet he was courteous, painfully so;

she was equally polite while within her heart felt as though someone was twisting it into shreds.

Anna met them in the big car, relinquishing the wheel with an air of relief. She greeted Sarah with restrained

affection, Linnet with something closer to a welcome than she had even' managed before. Perhaps in time she

could get over that first occasion of then-meeting and see Linnet as a perfectly ordinary person, no threat to

anyone. Linnet hoped so.

Bronwyn was out. A note on the kitchen table informed Linnet that she'd be back in the evening-Just that.

Feeling rather forlorn, Linnet unpacked, changed into shorts, and opened windows, then picked some

snapdragons and put them in a vase in the living room.

'Linnet? Do you want to .come for a swim?'

After only a moment's hesitation Linnet called back, 'Yes. Come in, Sarah.'

She was less pleased when she found Justin by the pool, his lean length stretched out in a lounger in the shade

of one of the big tree ferns which gave the pool such atmosphere.

And less pleased when after she had been in the water ten minutes he strolled over to the side of the pool,

snapped his fingers at her as if summoning a dog and said laconically, 'Out.'

'I beg your pardon?' Pushing wet hair back from her face, she gaped at him.

A smile twitched his lips. 'You heard. You've been’ in long enough.'

As she made no move he went on blandly, 'You wouldn't want me to come in and get you, would you?'

There was no mistaking the meaning in his voice, or the way his eyes ran across the smooth line of her

shoulders and breasts.

Linnet flushed, dived beneath the water and made her way across to the steps, furiously angry with him and

with herself for being so easily intimidated.

When she emerged from the dressing room Sarah called out that she was doing her lengths, as Anna set a tray of

drinks down on a table between Justin's lounger and another. After a quick word with Justin the housekeeper

moved off towards the house and Justin poured
two
drinks.

'Come and sit down,' he commanded. 'You
look
a bit tired.'

Most emphatically Linnet did not want to share a drink with him, but she could not think of a suitably

sophisticated way of getting out of it. Besides, she told herself, she was going to have to establish some sort of

everyday relationship with him, and the longer she put it off the harder it was going to be.

So keeping her mind firmly on the prospect of a cool drink she sat down, wishing that he had chosen chairs

rather than loungers. Stretched but like that her legs were very long and bare.

Justin seemed content to sit in silence, sipping the drink which Linnet discovered to be fruit juice, pleasantly

cooled by ice blocks, with sprigs of lemon balm lending their aromatic tang. In the pool Sarah had given up

lengths and was playing with a big inflated ball.

The silence stretched out, became hard to cope with. Linnet found herself prickling with tension. Impulsively

she asked a question she had long been pondering.

'Justin, how well did you know my father?’

There was a short silence, during which she wondered if she had left herself open for a monumental snub.

Then he answered, 'As well as anyone towards the end of his life, I suppose. Why? Surely you're not feeling

guilty this late in the day about your lack of interest in him?’

‘There was no lack of interest.'

'Then why didn't you come to see him?'

The question was so manifestly unfair that she became indignant. 'How could I? Air fares cost money, and that

was one thing we didn't have.'