Authors: Rosemary Carter
'Kelly.' His tone was equally low, and the sound of her name was a caress. Two hands reached for her shoulders, drawing her to him. 'Kelly, you must know how I feel about you.'
'Don't, Andrew. Please!' She blinked back sudden tears. There was urgency in the hands that held her, and in her new-found womanhood Kelly knew what it was to be hurt.
'I must.'
This was a new Andrew, this man who gathered her to him despite her resistance, his arms hard— though not as hard as Nicholas's—and his lips passionate. After a moment Kelly gave up the effort to resist. She liked Andrew; she liked him very much. And if she could allow herself to be stirred by his touch then perhaps, after all, she was not quite lost.
Putting her arms around his neck, she tried to respond to his kiss. It took her just a moment to know that she could not do it. Andrew was probably the nicest man she knew, but physically he left her unmoved.
As if he sensed her feelings, he drew away. 'It's no good, is it?' His voice was level.
'No.' A whisper.
'It's still Gary?'
She could not answer the question. It was not fair of him to expect it. But there was integrity in the clear eyes that studied hers, and despite his hurt there was no trace of the resentment a lesser man might well have shown.
She shook her head. The movement was painful.
'Then it's Nicholas.' Kelly had not known Andrew could be quite so hard. 'There's no future with the man, Kelly.'
'I know ..
'I love you, Kelly. I could give you so much.'
She swallowed on the lump in her throat. 'I couldn't give you anything in return.'
He hesitated a moment, then he said, 'You'd be my wife.'
'You wouldn't want me without my love.' She looked at him, the tears shimmering on long lashes. 'You deserve more, Andrew.'
He did not press her, and for that she was glad. The walk back was silent and strained. But by the time they came to the hotel Kelly had resolved certain issues in her mind.
She was sorry that she had hurt Andrew, truly sorry. But there was a look in Andrew's eyes which suggested that he had not reached his thirties without learning how to adjust to painful situations. Most likely, when he met a girl who would return his love, Kelly would become no more than a memory.
There was Gary. She had known for a while now that she could not marry him. It was not fair to keep him waiting any longer for her decision. The time had come to be honest with him. Any resentment on his part would be justified, and for that Kelly would not blame him. But even Gary had a stubborn resilience. She wondered now whether he had ever really loved her in the true sense of the word. If not, what he would suffer was essentially hurt pride and from that he would recover. With his dashing good looks and sparkling manner he would soon be sweeping another girl off her feet.
That left Nicholas, and he was a complication only as far as she herself was concerned, for his own emotions had never been in any way involved. Since the evening in the garden, when she had caught him kissing Serena, Kelly had avoided him, but the pain had not lessened. If anything, it had increased. There was only one remedy. It was time to give serious thought to the life she meant to lead on leaving Great Peaks. She needed a career which would give her fulfilment, for she doubted now that she would ever marry.
She thought of the many hours she had spent at the hospital, playing with children who were ill and unhappy, hours which had given her a certain feeling of achievement and satisfaction. As a pastime it had been rewarding, but the pastime was no longer enough. For a career to fill her life it must hold a challenge. She wondered now if nursing might provide what she sought. Soon she would be in Durban, and there she would set about finding out what she needed to know.
'You'll have something to drink?' Andrew asked as they approached the verandah. It was the first time he had spoken since leaving the waterfall.
'I don't think so.' Kelly managed a smile. She saw that the eyes that met hers were sad but steady. 'Thanks anyway, Andrew, but it's better this way.'
'Perhaps you're right.' He reached for her hand. 'You're a very lovely girl, Kelly. I hope some day you'll find happiness.'
He drew her to him, gently this time, and kissed her upturned mouth. There was nothing sexual in the kiss; the gesture was simply one of friendship and farewell. Without another word he released her and walked away.
'Very touching!'
Kelly spun round at the sound of the mocking voice. At sight of sardonic eyes in a lean tanned face she felt the colour drain from her cheeks.
'So this is how you spend your time.' His voice was hard.
'Where I go and with whom is my own choice!'She flung the words at him angrily, her eyes unnaturally bright against the sudden pallor of her face.
A hand shot out to seize her wrist. 'I want to speak to you, Kelly.'
'No!' Despite the tremor which shuddered through her at his touch, she managed to jerk from his grip.
His eyes were dark strips of flint. 'Kelly...'
'Leave me alone, Nicholas!' Her heart was pounding as she wondered if he would use his greater strength to detain her. But he made no move to stop her as she pushed past him and walked quickly into the hotel.
She went directly to the telephone. No sense in delaying any longer. She reached Gary without any difficulty. The call was short. He listened quietly as she told him her decision. Kelly guessed that her words came as no surprise, and wondered if Gary, in his own way, was relieved that the engagement was over. Perhaps he too had realised that there was not enough between them to hold a marriage together. When they said goodbye Kelly found it surprisingly hard to choke back a sob. If she had not loved Gary, she had nevertheless liked him very much. The conversation had taken more of a toll on her emotions than she had anticipated.
When she had put down the phone she went to the cottage. It was almost midday, and she would be expected in the kitchen, but the last hour had been so draining that she needed to be alone for a while.
Sitting down on the Andersons' double bed, she drew off her engagement ring. She remembered how happy she had been when Gary had placed it on her finger. Now, such a short time later, their relationship was ended, she was in love with someone else, and was poised on the brink of a career which would include neither one of the men who had played such important parts in her life.
She looked at the ring a few moments before slipping it into her purse. No point in posting it back to Gary—it might get lost. She would take it with her when she returned to Durban, and return it to him then.
Kelly was on her way to the kitchens when she paused in the doorway of the cottage. Thoughtfully she lifted her left hand. The third finger looked bare without the diamond.
Nicholas would notice that the ring had gone. As much as she was determined to keep out of his way, there would be moments when she could not help meeting him, and when she would be unable to hide her hand. There would be probing and questions. Even if Kelly refused to answer, Nicholas was too perceptive not to guess at the truth. It was a truth which Kelly did not want him to learn, at least not yet. Not until she had left Great Peaks and was away from eyes that could read more than a tumultuous heart wanted him to know.
The diamond was back on her finger when she went into the kitchens. It sparkled under the bright lights, and it seemed to Kelly as if it winked at her in mocking disdain. But she kept the ring on. No matter that the diamond was no more than a charade, and that she no longer had the right to wearit. What was important was that Nicholas Van Mijden would not know that her engagement was ended. For if he did, his pity would be more than Kelly could endure.
Mary and George Anderson returned to Great Peaks Lodge one morning late in March. Autumn was in the air. The leaves were turning russet on the trees, and the sky was overcast. There was a bleakness to the day, a bleakness which was echoed in Kelly's heart. It was almost a month since the day when George had been carried down the mountain, an unconscious figure on a swaying stretcher.
George looked well, Kelly thought—surprisingly well. But for a limp when he walked, there was nothing to indicate that he had had an accident and had spent weeks in hospital. Mary too looked very different from the last time Kelly had seen her. Both Andersons had colour in their cheeks, and their faces were lightly tanned. A stranger might have thought they had been on holiday.
They were delighted to be back, and impressed with the way Kelly had coped in their absence. Mary begged Kelly to return to the hotel for a holiday. 'Some time,' Kelly said smilingly, but she knew that she would never come back to Great Peaks Lodge.
Nicholas had missed the Andersons' return. He had gone to Pinevale for the morning, and was not expected back before lunch. Kelly hoped to be gone before then. Since their last encounter she had managed, somehow, to keep her manner towards him outwardly detached and cool. But she quailed before the prospect of saying goodbye. Such was the pain that wrenched inside her at the knowledge that she would never see Nicholas again, that she doubted if will-power alone would be sufficient to preserve the image of remoteness she had so carefully created.
As soon as she could politely do so, Kelly went to the cottage to pack. Andrew had left a few days earlier, so only the goodbyes to the staff, of whom she had grown very fond, still remained. A touring bus was leaving the hotel, and at her request George arranged that she could go with it.
Her packing took longer than she had expected. Now and then Kelly paused to look around her. She had grown attached to the little cottage, in particular to the bedroom which the Andersons would once again sleep in themselves. The room was one which Kelly would always remember, for it was here that she had lived through love and hate and sorrow and excitement, and finally through a numbing disappointment which it would take her a long time to forget.
She was closing her suitcase when she heard someone at the outer door of the cottage. Mary, she thought, come to see how she was getting on. And then there was the sound of impatient footsteps on the living-room floor, and even before the bedroom door opened the blood was pounding like a jack- hammer in Kelly's veins.
'So.' Nicholas stood in the open doorway, tall and sleek and dangerous in dark tight-fitting trousers and a polo-necked sweater.
A small tongue went out to lick lips that had gone suddenly dry. 'N-Nicholas! I ... I thought you were at Pinevale.'
'Is that why you decided to make such a quick getaway? I believe Mary couldn't even persuade you to stay for lunch.'
'I ... There's a bus leaving. I thought I might as well go back with it, and ...' She stopped, helpless before the wrath that glittered in the dark eyes.
'You also thought you could go away without seeing me.' He finished the sentence for her.
She swallowed. 'I would have said goodbye.'
'Don't lie to me, Kelly.' His voice was like ice, and the glint in his eyes was ominous. 'You meant to slip away* without a word, as if there'd been nothing between us.'
'Was there something?' she countered too swiftly.
An enigmatic expression came and went in his face as he studied her. She suspected that he missed neither her agitation nor the excitement surging like a river of fire through her system.
'I thought there was,' he drawled softly. 'I seem to recall a moment when only the sound of a telephone saved what some might call your virtue. You would have slept with me, Kelly, and we both know it.'
The words were out before she could stop them. 'That was before I saw you and Serena kissing.' She clapped a hand to her mouth, and the eyes that stared at him above white-knuckled fingers were wide and green and aghast.
'So you saw us. That explains a lot.' Unaccountably the expression in the grey eyes changed.
There was a look which, in a less feverish state, Kelly might have taken for understanding. She heard him laugh. The sound was different from anything she had heard before, sensuous still, but rough too and a little husky. Then he was taking a step towards her, and she could not retreat, for behind her was the bed.
'Where are you off to now?' he demanded.
'To Durban...'
'To Gary?'
She dropped her eyes. 'Yes.'
A hand went to her chin, roughly jerking it up. 'Another lie, Kelly!' he grated harshly.
'I ... I'm not lying.' It was increasingly difficult to force the words from her parched throat.
'You are.' A thumb began a slow movement along the slender column of her throat, stopping abruptly in the hollow where the pulse beat too quickly. 'Your own special built-in lie-detector.' Nicholas's voice had softened just a fraction. 'You're not going to Gary, Kelly—I don't need your blood pressure to tell me that. You'd never be happy with the fellow. Just as you wouldn't have been happy with Andrew.'
An unreasoning happiness swept her mind. No matter that in a few minutes she would be saying goodbye to Nicholas, never to see him again. This moment was precious. It belonged only to them both. Serena and Gary had no part in it.
'How do you know?' she asked softly.
He studied her intensely for a few seconds. Once more the thumb traced a tantalising movement from shoulder to chin, its sensuousness sending a wildness to the green eyes that met grey ones with unusual courage.
'How?' A short laugh. 'Because I've come to know you, Kelly Stanwick. You're not the spoiled little rich girl I took you to be. And , I know that men like Gary Sloan and Andrew would never satisfy you.' A commanding urgency entered his tone. 'I ask you again ... are you going to Gary, Kelly? I insist on the truth.'
There was a look in the rugged-featured face so close to hers which defied any attempt to continue the fiction. Strangely, the urge to conceal the facts from Nicholas had vanished.
'No.' Now her voice was very calm. 'I'm not going to Gary.'
A muscle tightened in the long line of the jaw, but his expression did not change. 'And the reason?' he asked quietly. 'The real reason, Kelly?'