The Bedroom Barter (20 page)

She lay spent and breathless in his arms, while he kissed her wet eyes and her parted lips, murmuring to her how lovely she was, and how clever. Calling her his darling and his sweet, passionate angel.

When she was capable of speech, she said, gasping, 'So— that's how it's supposed to be.'

Ash kissed her again. 'Only for the lucky people.'

'All the same.' Chellie slid a hand inside his shirt, stroking his warm chest, coaxing the flat male nipples into erection. 'Wasn't it rather—one-sided?'

There was a smile in his voice. 'Just a little, perhaps. But that was quite intentional.'

'Why?'

'Because I needed to prove something to you.'

'Which is?'

He said gently, 'That you could never be a disappointment, sexually or in any other way. Because you, Chellie Greer, are all woman.'

'That,' she said, 'is quite the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.'

'You're welcome,' Ash said gravely. 'And please don't stop what you're doing,' he added lazily. 'I like it.'

She began undoing his shirt. 'But you're going to enjoy this far more,' she murmured. 'You see, I have a few little fantasies of my own to indulge.'

'Oh,' he said. 'And undressing me is one of them?'

'It's a beginning, anyway.'

'I see,' Ash said thoughtfully. 'You're not planning any real recovery time, then? Or even a breathing space?'

She slipped his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. 'You said I was all woman. I have to live up to my reputation.' Her fingers strayed downward to the zip of his pants and tugged experimentally.

He said a little hoarsely, 'So far, it's doing fine.'

'You've seen nothing yet' She eased the pants down over his hips, and discarded them too.

'I only hope I survive.' His voice was uneven.

'I don't think you're in much danger.' She pretended to consider. 'After all, this may be my first time, but it certainly isn't yours.'

His hands closed on hers, halting them, the blue eyes suddenly serious as they met hers. 'Chellie—I think we should let the past take care of itself. A month—two months ago I didn't even know you existed.'

She bent forward and kissed him on the mouth, running the tip of her tongue across his lips. She said, 'But you know now, don't you?'

'Yes.' In one swift movement, Ash stripped off his briefs and turned on to his back, lifting her over him. And with a soft groan of satisfaction he lowered her slowly on to him.

Chellie stared down at him, eyes widening as she experienced the full heated strength of him inside her at last. As she felt her body close round him and possess him.

Ash looked back at her, his grin wicked, sensuous. He said, 'Well?'

'Yes,' she said, her breath catching in her throat. 'Oh, yes…' And she began to move, tentatively at first, but then gaining in confidence under his husky encouragement.

He watched her through half-closed eyes as his hands ranged over her, worshipping every slender curve, enticing every nerve-ending into glowing life. He stroked down her back, from her shoulders to her flanks, and she shivered with delight, her spine arching fiercely in response, her round breasts engorged and throbbing.

Their joined bodies rose and sank in complete attunement, in mutual demand.

She could feel the inner tension building in her again. Found herself at once overtaken—pierced by a pleasure so strong it was almost anguish—and sent, her whole body shaking and quivering, into the glory of release. She cried out sharply, in a kind of disbelief that heaven could be there for her once more so soon, and Ash answered her, groaning in ecstasy as his body shuddered into its own climax.

Afterwards, they lay very quietly together, his arms wrapped round her, her head tucked into his shoulder.

He whispered, 'Are you all right?'

'I think,' she said, 'that I'm in a thousand little pieces.'

'Is that all?' He kissed the top of her head very tenderly. 'I'll have to try and do better.'

She realised that she wanted very badly to tell him that she loved him. But that was impossible. It would go completely against the set of rules she had imposed on herself. And, if nothing else, pride should keep her silent. Because, very soon now, she would be walking away from him for ever, and she needed to be able to do it with her head held high. No embarrassing declarations to muddy the waters.

'Is something wrong?' he asked.

She swallowed. 'Not a thing. Why do you ask?'

He said slowly, 'Because one moment you were totally relaxed, like a sleeping baby. The next—not'

'Imagination can play strange tricks.' She stroked his cheek. 'But perhaps I really do need to sleep for a while.'

'Only for a while?' He captured her hand and kissed its palm. She could feel his smile against her skin.

'Certainly,' she said. 'I don't want to miss anything.'

Ash reached out an arm and switched off the lamp. 'I promise,' he said solemnly, 'not to start without you.'

He slept almost at once, but Chellie could not. She lay in his embrace, not wishing to move in case she disturbed him, and stared into the darkness.

There, in the shadows, was her future, she thought. Without light, and without hope. And she felt frightened, and more alone than she had ever been in her life before.

She dozed eventually, only to be woken by his mouth planting a trail of gentle kisses down her body. She turned to him, her mouth eager, her hands caressing him with total candour. This time their lovemaking was slow, and almost achingly tender.

As if, she thought, their bodies were saying goodbye. Which was no more than the truth.

They did not speak any words. There was instead the intimacy of sighs and murmurs, and infinitesimal changes of breathing to chart their passage to rapture. And when the moment of culmination came, Ash wrapped her close in his arms and held her as if he would never let her go.

Ah, but he will, Chellie thought sadly. He will.

The pain of love, it seemed, had already begun. And when sleep finally claimed her she was glad.

'Miss Greer—
mam'selle
. I have coffee for you.'

Chellie opened unwilling eyes to find the room bathed in sunlight and Rosalie standing by the bed, cup and saucer in hand. In the same instant she registered that she was alone. The bed beside her was empty, the pillows plumped, the sheet smooth as glass. No sign at all that anyone had shared it with her. No untidy muddle of clothing on the floor. No sound of running water from the shower either.

Ash had gone, and all traces of the night they'd spent together had been removed.

Expertly removed, Chellie thought with sudden bitterness. But why was she surprised? After all, if you were sleeping with the daughter of the house it was bad policy to enjoy another girl in her absence, especially when loyal family retainers were involved.

Ash clearly knew how to cover his tracks—maybe not for the first time.

And if some secret corner of her heart had hoped for a miracle—had prayed that the splendour of passion they had shared might lead to some kind of commitment on his part—then she knew better now.

She sat up slowly, holding the covering sheet to her breasts. "Thank you, Rosalie.'

'And Mr Ash called. He has a seat for you on the noon flight to Grenada.'

Chellie nearly spilled her coffee all over the bed. 'He called?? she repeated incredulously. 'When?'

'Half an hour ago,
mam'selle
. He also say a car will be sent for you at eleven.'

'I see.' Her mouth was dry. 'Was—was there any other message?' she managed.

'No,
mam'selle
,' Rosalie assured her cheerfully. 'Shall I run your bath?'

'No—no, thank you.' Chellie forced a smile. 'I can manage.'

So, she thought drearily when she was alone. Last night was then, this is now, and what worlds apart they are.

But then what had she expected? She'd appealed to him on a strictly sexual level and he'd taken her. That had been the deal, and it was much too late for regrets.

She stretched, feeling the voluptuous ache in her body, the singing of her pulses. She might be on the floor emotionally, but physically she felt wonderful.

Ash had taught her to be a woman, she thought, and she would always be grateful to him for that. But she had also learned to feel with a woman's heart, and she would never be free again.

She didn't want the coffee, but she needed the boost of caffeine it offered to clear her head and get her moving. After all, she had packing to do. It was time for her, too, to pretend she had never been here.

As promised, Rosalie had washed and pressed the linen dress, and it was hanging on the wardrobe door. But she wasn't going to wear it, or anything else that belonged to Julie. The thought was unbearable.

She would make do with the handful of her own stuff that she'd brought, and buy herself a change of underwear on Grenada for the journey home. Everything else could stay behind.

Except for the dress Ash had bought her, she thought with a pang. She would take that with her—as a salutary reminder of the gulf that existed between sex and love. And a warning never to allow herself to confuse them again.

I don't want to wake up and find the bed beside me empty ever again, she thought, as she pushed back the sheet and swung her legs to the floor. And if that means spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. I've been alone before.

Brave words, but she knew that it would never be as easy as that. Because it would not just be a dress that she would take with her. Ash would go too—the sound of his voice, the unique male scent of him, the taste of his mouth and the controlled drive of his body, taking her to rapture and beyond.

Potent memories, she thought, and also completely inescapable. Something she would have to learn to live with.

She showered, and dressed in her denim skirt and tee shirt. Full circle, she thought, as she set about re-packing her bag.

There was pitifully little to go in it, she mused, frown, and then realised why. The black dress she'd worn last night was unaccountably missing.

She hunted through the wardrobe, and even searched under the bed, but there was no sign of it.

Oh, hell, she thought, biting her lip. Rosalie's probably pounced on it for laundering. What on earth will she make of the G-string? At least I won't be around to find out, she added with a mental shrug.

The last remaining item was the precious passport, which was still downstairs on the sitting room table.

She picked up her bag, gave the room a last, lingering look, then went downstairs.

Rosalie met her in the hall. 'Mr Ash is here,' she announced, sending Chellie's heart into painful free-fall. 'Out on the verandah. I'm making him scrambled eggs. You want some too?'

'No—no, thanks. I'm not hungry.'

Rosalie sent her a disparaging glance. 'You're too thin,
mam'selle
. Should eat more.'

'Ah.' Chellie tried to keep her voice light. 'Someone once said you could never be too rich or too thin. One out of two isn't bad.'

Rosalie snorted and went back to the kitchen, leaving Chellie to make her reluctant way into the sitting room. If she hadn't needed to collect her passport she'd have been tempted to bolt back upstairs again. Even so, if she was quick and quiet…

'Good morning.' The verandah doors were wide open and he was standing there, dark against the brilliance of the sunlight.

Her hopes of evasion dashed, Chellie lifted her chin, trying to ignore the jolt to her senses. 'Oh, hi.' She attempted a casual note. 'I got your message. I wasn't expecting to see you.'

'I wasn't expecting to be here,' he returned. 'But there's been a change of plain. I've found out there's an earlier plane. If we leave straight after breakfast, you can catch it.'

She picked up her passport and stowed it in her bag, aware that her hands were trembling.

'I see.' She forced a smile. 'You—you really can't wait to be rid of me, can you?'

'I've booked you a room at the Oceanside Club,' he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. 'And I'll join you there as soon as I can. There are issues here that I have to deal with first.'

'Issues?' Chellie repeated slowly. She had a sudden graphic image of Julie, with her bright smile dimmed, her eyes blurred with tears. 'Is that how you describe hurting people—messing with their emotions?'

His brows lifted. 'I wasn't aware that there was much emotion involved,' he said drily. 'But I'm prepared to stand corrected.' He paused. 'Whatever—I think it's better if you're away from here while I sort things out,' he added levelly. 'You'll just have to trust me on this.'

'Ash,' she said. 'We can't do this. We agreed that last night was all there could ever be, and nothing's changed.'

'You don't think so?' He shook his head. 'You're wrong, Chellie. Last night only proved what I've always known— that we belong together.' He came further into the room. 'Darling, I won't let you go.' His voice deepened. 1 can't. And I'll do whatever it takes to give us the freedom to be together.' He came to her, taking her hands in his. 'I thought you'd want that too? Am I wrong?'

'No.' Chellie's voice was wretched. 'I do want it. Oh, so much. But I know that you can't build happiness on the ruins of someone else's life.'

He stared at her. 'Chellie—you can't honestly believe that applies to us.'

She looked down at the floor. 'I think it could.' She jumped as the front doorbell pealed imperatively. 'I—I suppose that's my lift to the airport'

Ash frowned. 'No, I'm your lift. And I wasn't expecting visitors,' he added with a touch of grimness as Cornelius went past the sitting room to answer the door. 'At least, not ye.t'

'I'm here to see Miss Greer.' A man's voice, loud and slightly hectoring, filled the hall. 'Take me to her, please.'

Chellie's lips parted in a gasp of shock. 'My God,' she breathed. 'It's Jeffrey—Jeffrey Chilham. But how can it be? It's impossible.'

Cornelius was murmuring something in reply, but the caller responded with a snort.

'That's nonsense, my good man. I know quite well she's here. And that Brennan fellow too, I've no doubt. Kindly let me pass.'