Ellis stared at him, her face paling. Was he telling her he'd bought her a new car? But that was impossible—it was—crazy. She said uncertainly, 'You—you mean you bought it for Leanne—'
`I mean no such thing. I don't buy new cars for Leanne. That's up to Charl
ie.
The car's for you.'
She shook her head. 'But I'm not staying—it's only
because I promised Charlie---'
`Ellis!' His eyes had darkened and he took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. 'What's the matter with you? Who do you imagine you're fooling? You can be happy here with me—a thousand times happier than with some man who starts up an affair with another woman at the drop of a hat.'
His eyes had gone to her mouth and she said shakily, `You—you seem to start new affairs at the drop of a hat. Jan—me—'
`Oh, forget Jan,' he said impatiently. 'She's off the scene.'
`Have you forgotten her?' she challenged, aware, even if he was not, that soon Jan would be well and truly back on the scene.
`It's comon sense,' he said briefly. 'She's like Leanne —she wants to carry the stockwhip. No woman dictates to me.'
Ellis was silent, but she drew away from him. It was terrible to be so besotted over a man who didn't even pretend to love you—or anyone else for the matter of that. All he wanted was a woman who'd submit to him —and of course, share his bed. Sharing his bed would be no problem to Jan—but she wouldn't submit to living here, and Ellis was positive she must have some tricky plan in mind that she meant to carry out when she came back. With Ellis, it was the other way about. Living at Warrianda would suit her perfectly well, but she wouldn't—couldn't—share his bed unless he loved her.
Her head lowered, she began to move back to the car. The new car would do for Jan, she thought despairingly, then gasped as Steve's arms came round her from behind and he pulled her back against his body
and moved his mouth softly against her neck near the lobe of her ear.
She caught her breath and pulled away from him sharply. 'Don't !'
He said nothing, but he was scowling as he got into the car beside her a minute later, and she thought wryly, Jan wouldn't have pulled away. He was soon going to discover he hadn't forgotten Jan after all:
The new car was a light blue Mazda
121
with pale silvery grey upholstery, and it was a dream to drive. `My wife, will have everything.' Ellis remembered the words as she followed the glistening white road towards Warrianda, not attempting to keep up with Steve who had sped ahead.
Once back at the homestead she parked the car, feeling a little surprised that Leanne hadn't come outside to welcome her and look at the new car. It entered her mind as she went inside that Leanne might be sulking over the fact the car was not for her, unless she was busy in the kitchen. Steve had made it very plain that he was going to insist that Leanne should do the work about the house, and that Ellis should only help.
From the hall, she caught the sound of Steve's voice. He was in the office, and she wondered if he had Leanne on the mat already over something, or if he was merely talking to Charl
ie.
After a brief hesitation she went upstairs. She'd have a wash, then tidy herself up and come down to the kitchen. It was well after six, and if he was lecturing Leanne it was possible she hadn't even started to get dinner.
She had brushed out her dark gold hair and was standing in front of the mirror feeling rather tensed up when Steve came to the door. She turned swiftly, and was disconcerted by the look on his face; it was soproprietorial.
His green gaze took her in slowly from head to toe. She had put on a long cotton voile skirt and matching top, with the idea of giving a festive air to Leanne's return, and she knew the flimsy material accentuated her slender waist and the line of her bosom. There was colour in her cheeks from the day in the open and that, combined with the light tan she had acquired, made her look particularly fit.
After a long pause, Steve said slowly, 'You grow more beautiful by the hour, Ellis. But I didn't come upstairs to remark on the obvious, I've something else to tell you. There was a message from Charlie when I came home that Leanne's been taken to hospital, and he's taken the plane over to Melbourne. I've just been speaking to Mrs Burnett—Leanne's mother—on, the phone. The doctor diagnosed acute appendicitis and operated at once.'
`Oh, poor Leanne ! Is she all right?' Ellis breathed out.
`She's getting on fine—she has the best doctors looking after her, you may be sure. It could be fortunate she was on the mainland,' he added, and somehow, as he spoke, Ellis suddenly realised that now she and he were completely alone in the house, and she felt her pulses quicken nervously.
`When—will Charlie be back?' she asked jerkily.
`When he's ready to come,' said Steve. 'He can stay with his wife as long as he wishes, so don't look at me like that. I'm not heartless, whatever you may think.'
Ellis bit her lip and looked rather wildly round the room. She had been thinking of herself this time, not of Leanne, and crazily her thoughts had gone to that other room where Steve slept—in a bed even bigger than this one. It hadn't even entered her head that Steve might insist his brother should come back immediately,
and her cheeks were crimson and then pale as she said stiffly, 'I—I didn't for a moment think you'd expect Charlie to leave Leanne.'
`You didn't? Well, that's good news,' he said, and she turned away hastily from the look in his eyes and said hurriedly, 'I—I was just going downstairs to see about dinner.'
F
or two,' he said, and her nerves leapt.
But he didn't touch her as she moved past him through the doorway, and she heard him going into his bedroom as she made her way down the stairs.
In the kitchen she tried to consider the position calmly, but the fact that Steve had behaved himself so well lately didn't make it much better. She still didn't know what to expect from him—particularly if they were alone. The fact was plain from this afternoon's exchange that he hadn't by any means given up the idea of making her his wife, and as she prepared vegetables to accompany grilled chops, she came to the conclusion that the only thing to do was to move out of his house—as soon as possible ...
She was tense and nervous over dinner. There was a disturbing intimacy in sitting at the long narrow table with him with the sky dark outside and silence all around them—except for the soft music he had put on the cassette recorder. It was as if only the two of them existed in the whole world—herself and this handsome virile man with the enigmatic eyes and the dark hair with its dramatic streak of silver, and she glanced almost fearfully at the long curving mouth whose touch she knew so well and so much desired. Tonight he wore dark pants and a soft cream shirt with a narrow rolled collar that showed up his suntanned skin and the whiteness of his teeth, and she found it hard to keep her eyes off him.
They didn't talk much, and after they had eaten she took his coffee into the sitting room, then, leaving her own there, murmured a vague excuse and once outside the room went quickly upstairs. She would take the new car and go to the hotel in Whitemark—sneak out without telling him, because she felt quite positive he would try to stop her from going—and all too likely would succeed.
In her room she changed quickly into pants and shirt, then proceeded to pack a few things in one of her suitcases. She could hear music floating up the stairs, and she thought that, with luck, he wouldn't hear the car. It wasn't as if it was the noisy old thing that she customarily drove.
She had reached the foot of the stairs when Steve appeared in the hallway from the sitting room. Ellis stood stock still and stared at him, feeling as guilty as if she'd been caught out doing something thoroughly dishonest—which in a way she had.
`I wondered what you were up to when you disappeared,' he said dryly. 'What are you trying to do? Run away before I seduce you? Haven't I already convinced you I'm not going to do that? It wasn't Charlie's presence that prevented it from happening, you know —I've had plenty of opportunity—'
Ellis felt an absolute fool. But all the same, she didn't trust him, and she trusted herself still less, if he only knew it. She said shakily but determinedly, 'There's just no point in my being here now. Leanne won't be back for a while, and I—I only stayed on to please Charl
ie.
'
`Haven't we already disagreed about that?' He came towards her purposefully as he spoke and she shrank back against the wall, her heart beating fast. His voice, his look, unnerved her, and she was intensely aware
that he had only to take her in his arms for all her resolution to melt away. But there was no escaping him, and in a split second it had happened. She heard the slight thud as her suitcase hit the floor and then her body was brought into contact with Steve's. His mouth was against hers and she was twisting futilely against his strength and feeling, second by second, her self-control slipping, her desire to escape from him fading out like the lights in a theatre as the music begins.
And now for her too the music was beginning, its rhythm pounding through her blood as she helplessly —willingly—let him gather
her closer and closer. His hand found her breast and she clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body spreading through her in ripples right to her very heart. When he took his lips away from hers so that they could both draw breath, his head was still close to hers and their eyes were locked in a long unbreakable exchange. His eyes were not emeralds tonight, they were not hard and cynical—they were fragments of the watery jewel that was the sea, sparked with light, deep enough to drown in, enticing enough —and Ellis was drowning—drowning.
`Steve—' she heard herself whisper as again he crushed her to him, and she knew with a shudder that was part fear, part anticipation, that if he wanted her now he could have her—he could carry her up the stairs to his bed and make love to her all night long. And after that—after that
She should at that point have dragged herself away from him, but she couldn't. She was beyond making any kind of moral effort.
It was he who brought the passions that were rising between them to an end eventually. Even while she was silently imploring, 'Don't let me go—love me—make me yours ' she heard him swear beneath his breath,
and the next instant, stunned and helpless, she found the embrace had come to an abrupt and cruel end.
Steve picked up her suitcase, took her roughly by the arm, and propelled her towards the door.
`You'd better go, Ellis—you were quite right, you'll be safer in Whitemark. I'll take you to the hotel.'
Ellis wanted to protest, to say no, but that would be to agree to everything that would follow. And she just couldn't see Steve marrying her once Jan turned up—Jan wouldn't allow it.
Neither of them said anything further and she went with him on shaking legs to his car. It was no use offering to drive herself—the Mazda was his, not hers, and besides, the way she was feeling now she wouldn't trust herself to drive a hundred yards with safety. As she sat by his side and they followed the long white road through the darkness, she prayed silently that he would tell her he loved her. Oh God, if only he would say that then nothing else would matter in the whole world.
But he didn't tell her he loved her, and she knew why. Love simply didn't enter his scheme of things. He didn't trust women—they were cheats. The wonder was that he was letting her go instead of—
In the darkness she closed her eyes and drew a quivering breath. If she had never been grateful to Steve Gascoyne before, she should feel grateful to him now. He could have done anything to her, back at the house, and she'd have regretted it bitterly afterwards.
When he pulled up outside the hotel in Whitemark he turned in the seat and asked her soberly, 'Will you be all right, Ellis?'
She nodded, but didn't speak and she didn't even look at him. Shame and embarrassment swept over her in waves and she thanked heaven that the light from
the hotel didn't fall on her face. She climbed unsteadily out of the car and when he set her suitcase down on the footpath, she told him, 'Don't come in with me. I can —manage everything for myself.'
`All right, Ellis,' he agreed. Then with a brief goodnight, he got back into the car and as she went into the hotel she heard him drive away.
Fortunately, she didn't see Martin, and she didn't ask for him. All she wanted now was to hide herself away in the hotel bedroom and wake to find it had all been a dream. But of course she didn't do that. She lay awake, her body burning with longing for Steve. Over and over she wished he hadn't let her go—that he had done what she had imagined, taken her to his bed and made love to her. She was wishing it still when she fell asleep at last, the warmth of tears on her cheeks.
When morning came she was pale and there were shadows under her ,eyes, but she was in full control of her senses again. She wanted never to have to see Steve Gascoyne again, and she wished she had brought all her possessions with her instead of just the one suitcase containing a few things. She decided to ask Martin to come with her to Warrianda, and then she could take the plane in the afternoon—to Melbourne, she decided despairingly.
But when she went down to breakfast and enquired about Martin, it was only to be told that he had left early that morning for Burnett Lagoon. Immediately she felt exposed—vulnerable—like some little sea creature without its shell. Or like—yes, like the little moonbird chick Steve had once called her. Then presently she calmed down. She'd hire a car and drive out to Burnett Lagoon and find Martin.