Authors: Sara Craven
bedroom. Sally's whispered remark had come clearly to her ears, however.
'I felt quite sorry for that woman, in spite of the awful things she said about
the people at the centre. She was absolutely destroyed. I don't think she even
knew what was happening to her.'
According to Sally's letter, things were changing rapidly at the centre.
Following the programme, Mrs Henderson had resigned her position on the
board of trustees, and a new trust was being worked out to include
representatives of several large charitable foundations which had come
forward with offers of financial help. Andrew and Jean were being married
in a fortnight's time, the letter continued on a more personal note, and Carol
Barton's parents had come to take her home with them.
'And I have orders to tell you that Mrs Lamb's Bert has turned up,' wrote
Sally. 'Apparently he saw the programme on television and decided he
missed her and the children. He's working in Manchester, so they're all off
there.
'I don't suppose you saw
Under the Skin,
but it was very well received by the
critics, and Hugo is producing Jason's new one early in the autumn. There's a
rumour that Jason may give up his documentary work to devote himself to
play-writing, but he's pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.'
Catriona folded the sheets of paper and replaced them in the envelope with a
stifled sigh. If Jason did decide to become a full-time playwright, at least he
would have a ready- made leading lady, she thought bitterly.
The rain petered out towards evening and Catriona, tugging on a thick
sweater over her shirt and jeans to counteract the chilly breeze which had
sprung up, decided to go for a walk along the shore before supper.
The clouds had lifted over the western horizon and the sun was sinking in a
blaze of baleful red. She wandered down to the water's edge and stood for a
long time looking out at the dark shapes of the islands. The softly creaming
water lapped within inches of her sandalled feet and a swooping gull cried
out, a harsh melancholy sound that made her shiver and turn away. This had
been her home for most of her life, but suddenly she felt alien and alone. She
walked back up the beach and paused, surprised. A man's dark figure was
standing on the grass verge of the shore road. Her first thought was that it
must be a stranger because he did not wave or call to her as any of the local
men would have done. Then the first tingle of awareness began to slide over
her skin.
She halted abruptly, staring towards him, her eyes wide and incredulous in
her startled face. As if in answer to her hesitation, he himself moved,
jumping down on to the rock- strewn sand and striding towards her. When
he was only a couple of feet away from her, he stopped.
'Hello, Catriona,' he said, unsmilingly.
'Jason?' There was still disbelief in her voice. She began to tremble. 'What
are you doing here?'
'Sally asked me to bring your things from London.'
Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn't that.
'I see,' she said helplessly, after a moment's pause. 'Then you're on
holiday—or something.'
'Something,' he agreed. His voice was quite pleasant, but his grey eyes held
hers with a relentless unswerving gaze.
Her hands twisted together. 'You've chosen an out-of- the-way place.'
'The choice wasn't mine, Catriona.' She looked at him, a question in her eyes
and he took a swift step towards her, his tone roughening. 'Dear God, do I
have to spell it out for you?'
'Yes.' There was a sudden bubble of exultant joy rising inside her. 'Yes,
Jason, I think you do.'
'I'm here because it's where you are—because that's where I must be. And if
you run away from me again, I'll still come after you, and I'll keep coming
until I've won you and taught you not to be afraid any more—of me, of life
or anything else.'
'I'm not afraid,' she whispered. The joy was showing on her face now,
trembling in her smile, shining from her eyes. 'And I'm yours if you want
me, Jason. I—I always have been.'
He lifted her in a fierce embrace almost off her feet, holding her against him
for a long moment before his mouth found hers. When he released her they
were both breathless. He placed his hands under her chin and lifted her face
to his with rough tenderness.
'Now tell me why the hell you ran away from me? I couldn't believe it the
next day when Sal said you'd gone. I had my wooing all planned—flowers,
theatre tickets, dinners for two—even down to the special licence burning a
hole in my pocket at this moment.'
She said, faltering a little, 'A—licence? You want to— marry me?'
'What else?' he said with devastating simplicity. He bent and brushed her
mouth lightly with his. His smile teased her. 'What other solution is there?
All my efforts at seduction have gone sadly awry. I hope I have better
fortune on our wedding night.'
She flushed, and buried her face in his shirt with a little incoherent murmur.
'That had better be an acceptance of my proposal.' His hand stroked her hair.
His voice held a tremor of laughter. 'I think a twenty-four-hour engagement
is about all I can stand.'
Catriona kept her head resolutely bent. 'Jason, what about Moira?'
'That was over a long time ago,' he said abruptly. 'I still saw her from time to
time, but she was only part of the defence I was trying to build against you.'
She glanced at him swiftly. 'But she came to the flat that day—as I was
leaving.'
'So she did,' he agreed calmly. 'She'd been having a long and liquid lunch
with Hugo and he'd told her he was doing my new play. She'd come round to
see if there was a part for her. She soon lost interest in me when she found
there wasn't. She told me something else too—she was responsible for that
damned piece in the
Globe.
Hunt would probably never have bothered to
write it, but she chivvied him into it.'
'But why did she do that?'
'Because she knew I would hate it,' he said frankly 'We were—quite close
for a time, and I think she felt we could be again. But you spelled danger, so
she picked the best way she could think of to kill any relationship we might
have stone dead.'
'But when you left me—after her party, you went back to her then.'
'I went back to the party,' he corrected. 'But not for Moira's sake. My
executive producer and a couple of others were there and I wanted to talk
over the idea of featuring the Henderson Trust on
Here and Now.
It meant
reorganising some schedules, so I had to work fast.' He kissed her again. 'So
you were jealous of Moira, were you? Excellent! Now you know what I
went through.'
'You couldn't have been jealous of Jeremy,' she said slowly. 'Right from the
start, you knew that would never work.'
'I wasn't thinking of Jeremy,' he said. 'I thought you were falling in love
with Andrew Milner.'
'Andrew?' She gazed at him, frankly incredulous. 'But he loves Jean . . .'
'I knew that too. I was so afraid for you, my darling, so convinced that you
were going to eat out your heart for the wrong man all over again.'
'I thought you were sorry for me because you'd guessed I was in love with
you,' she whispered.
'No,' he said. 'I never guessed that. I was so tied up with trying to fight my
own feelings, I completely misread the whole situation. But after I tried to
make love to you at the flat that afternoon, I knew that I could never be
satisfied with just an affair. I knew then that I wanted you with me
always--as my wife. The only thing I wasn't sure of was if I could make you
want me as a husband. I'm a bad-tempered devil and I like my own way.
The only thing I can say in my own favour is that I love you.'
'That's more than enough.' She smiled up at him and he bent, swiftly
pressing his mouth to the tip-tilted corners of her lips.
'It was Sal who put me on the right track,' he said. 'I went round to the flat
and demanded to know where you'd gone. I let her see I'd shake it out of her
if I had to. Instead she calmly handed me this piece of paper with your
address on it and said that as long as I was coming to find you, I might as
well deliver your clothes to you as well. She said it would save having to buy
a trousseau.' He grinned reminiscently. 'I think my jaw must have dropped,
because she hit me— quite hard, and called me a blind, selfish idiot, among
other things.'
'And where are my clothes?' Catriona demanded.
'In the boot of my car.' He rubbed his chin ruefully. 'It's parked along the
road. I still haven't the faintest idea where I'm going to spend the night.'
She hesitated. 'Well, I daresay Mrs McGregor would find you a corner.'
'Is that where you're staying?' he asked and, when she nodded, gave a swift
headshake. 'No, my darling, I prefer to remain safely at a distance until we're
married. I'm not sharing a roof with you until I also have the right to share
your bed.'
'We-ell—' her eyes danced suddenly, 'there's always Muir House. Mrs
Mackintosh would be delighted, I know. But you must come back with me
now, Jason. Mrs McGregor would never forgive me if I didn't bring you
back to supper.'
'I think I can trust myself for that long,' he said drily. He pulled her against
him hard, making her totally aware of his need for her. His kiss was long and
deep, just within bounds of self-control. 'Oh, darling,' he said huskily, 'if you
have any mercy at all, don't keep me waiting much longer.'
Mrs McGregor was sitting by the fire when they came in, and she glanced
up from the mail order catalogue she was reading.
'Well now, Catriona.' The situation was assessed in one twinkling look. 'So
this is your man.'
'Yes,' said Catriona.