Season of Shadows (11 page)

She left the house through the side entrance and walked
briskly but aimlessly through the enormous grounds. She was being
stifled slowly but surely in that house with its antiques and its
unhappy memories of the past. Anton's forceful presence lingered in
every room as well, like an unseen shadow reaching out to engulf her,
and she wanted to escape, to flee from his domination of her mind and
her body, but where could she go without taking with her that feeling
of guilt at having to leave Sally behind. The child needed her; needed
to know that she would be there when she returned home from school in
the afternoons, and heaven knew Laura could never do anything to hurt a
child who had been hurt so badly already.

A dove called to its mate in the tree above her, and the
sound was strangely soothing, making her shiver involuntarily as the
tension uncoiled within her. Deep inside her a little voice warned her
to take care, or she might find herself being hurt far more than she
had ever dreamed of. Hurt by whom, or by what? she wondered curiously,
but the answer evaded her like the disappearing mist on the mountain
slope which was forbidden territory at Bella-vista.

Laura returned to the house eventually and slipped into
the daily routine she had planned for herself, not giving herself time
to think until she could help Sally with her studying when she returned
from school that afternoon, and then the hours passed swiftly until it
was time to sit down to the dinner she had planned that morning with
Jemima.

Sally lingered at the table that evening after dinner, and
she cast a quick glance in Laura's direction before she turned to Anton
and said: 'The school closes on Friday for the Easter holidays.'

'So it does,' Anton replied evenly, pushing aside his cup
and lighting a cigarette. 'Do you have anything special in mind for the
holidays?'

'Could we go to your cottage at Gordon's Bay, Uncle
Anton?' Sally asked with a pathetic eagerness that touched Laura's
heart.

'I'll arrange for Eddie to drive you and Laura there on
Friday afternoon.'

'Oh, but—' Sally's face clouded. 'But I want you
to come as well.'

'I'm afraid that's out of the question,' Anton announced
with bruising abruptness. 'I'm far too busy at the moment.'

'But, Uncle Anton—' Sally paused and glanced beseechingly at
Laura. 'Tell him, Aunty Laura. He'll listen to you. Tell him it won't
be any fun without him.'

'Forget it,' Anton snapped before Laura could open her
mouth. 'I can't get away at this moment.'

Sally cast a bewildered glance from Laura back to Anton.
'But—'

'That's enough, Sally,' he ordered sharply, and the
child's lips quivered.

'Oh, very well. I just thought—' Sally paused
hopefully, but when Anton maintained an adamant silence, she got up
from the table and said unhappily, 'I'm going up to my room.'

Steel-grey eyes captured Laura's glance as Sally left the
room, and she knew instinctively that this was not the moment to pursue
the subject. She drank her coffee quickly and excused herself, but when
she left the dining-room she felt those cold eyes boring into her back.

A few minutes later she knocked briefly on Sally's
bed-room door and entered without waiting for a reply. Sally was lying
on her bed staring darkly up at the ceiling with her hands locked
behind her head, and Laura closed the door softly behind her before she
crossed the room towards the bed.

'May I sit down?' she smiled tentatively.

'I suppose so,' Sally muttered, making room for her on the
bed beside her.

'Oh, come on, darling, don't look so glum about it,' Laura
insisted in a lighthearted attempt to shake the child out of her mood.
'You and I could still have a lot of fun together, couldn't we?'

'I know that, Aunty Laura, but—' Sally removed
her hands from behind her head and sat up, her lips curling petulantly.
'It would have been so much fun with Uncle Anton there as well.'

'I'll talk to him again, Sally, but I can't promise
anything.'

Dark eyes regarded Laura intently. 'Will you really talk
to him about it?'

'Yes, but—' Laura hesitated, not wanting to push
her hopes up too high. 'If he really can't make it, Sally, will you
promise to accept his decision?'

Sally considered this for a moment, and then nodded. 'I'll
be disappointed, but I'll accept it.'

'Good girl,' Laura smiled, pinching the soft cheek
affectionately between her fingers. 'Now, stop looking so unhappy, or
you'll have me believing my company isn't good enough for you.'

'That's not true, Aunty Laura. I just love you to bits,'
Sally exclaimed, and demonstrated this by flinging her arms about
Laura's neck and hugging her effusively.

'And I feel the same about you, darling,' Laura assured
her sincerely as she hugged the child against her and smoothed the dark
head with a gentle hand. 'I think it's time you had your bath and went
to bed, don't you?'

'Yes, Aunty Laura.'

Laura kissed her goodnight and prepared to leave, but
Sally's voice halted her when she had opened the door, and Laura turned
to face her unsuspectingly. 'Yes, darling?'

Brown eyes surveyed her intently across the room. 'You do
love Uncle Anton, don't you?'

Momentarily taken aback, Laura stared at her, then she
pulled herself together with an effort and, as convincingly as
possible, she said: 'Of course I do.'

Sally frowned and fingered one of her long plaits. 'You
never show it.'

'Your aunt and I aren't demonstrative by nature,' a voice
said behind Laura, and her cheeks flared hotly as she swung round to
see Anton standing there, but he barely glanced at her as he added, 'If
you want a demonstration, however, I'm sure we could oblige you.'

Before Laura could utter a syllable in protest, she found
herself draped across a muscled arm, and a hard mouth was pressed
against hers in an impersonal, yet shattering kiss that left her
clinging to him in a dazed fashion when he finally raised his head and
glanced at Sally who had been observing them closely. 'Satisfied?'

'Yes,' the child nodded happily. 'Goodnight.'

Moments later, in the privacy of their bedroom, Laura
turned on Anton angrily. 'That display was unnecessary.'

'On the contrary, I thought it extremely necessary for
Sally's peace of mind. Besides…' a humourless smile curved
his mouth, 'you enjoyed it.'

A wave of hot colour surged into her cheeks and, swinging
away from him, she said furiously, 'I loathed it, and you damn well
know it!'

He followed her into the bathroom with long, angry
strides, and she shrank against the rose-coloured tiles as he towered
over her menacingly before her shoulders were taken in a bone-crushing
grip. Her cry of pain was stifled when he pulled her up against him
with a force which temporarily robbed her of breath, then feather-light
kisses tantalised her lips until, with a shuddering moan, they parted
to offer him the sweetness within. His hands left her shoulders to move
down the length of her back to her hips in a possessively sweeping
caress, and her treacherous body went limp against him as a sensual
fire was lit within her. Her hands crept up his broad chest to become
locked behind his strong neck, but at this point he drew back, and his
taunting laughter penetrated her drugged senses to fill her with such
intense shame and self-disgust that she cringed from him as well as her
inner self.

'If that was a demonstration of your loathing, then loathe
me all you want,' he continued to taunt her, his eyes like lasers
burning into hers until it felt as though her very soul was being
scorched.

She fell away from him to lean against the tiled wall, the
quick rise and fall of her breasts beneath the silk of her blouse
indicating her distress, and then the colour drained slowly from her
face to leave her paper-white. The room swayed about her momentarily,
but just as quickly it righted itself, and, closing her eyes tightly to
shut out his twisted, cynical features, she whispered brokenly, 'Leave
me alone, please.'

She would not have been surprised if he had ignored her
request, but a few moments later she heard the bathroom door close, and
when she opened her eyes again, she was alone.

A leisurely, scented bath did much to restore her
equilibrium, out it did nothing for the deep-seated ache in the region
of her heart. During those brief moments, while the room had swayed
about her, she had discovered the reason why she had feared Anton ever
since their first meeting on Robert's yacht. Physically, Anton had made
a shattering impact on her senses, and something must have warned her,
even men, that her heart would not escape unscathed if she should be
foolish enough to tangle with him. With Robert and Elizabeth no longer
there, fate had taken over in the cruellest way, and she had been
thrust into the very hands she had wanted to evade. She could not put a
label to her feelings—not yet—but she knew, without
doubt, that the day would soon come when she would have to admit that
Anton DeVere meant more to her than any man ever could or would in
future.

She sighed unsteadily as she slipped her arms into the
sleeves of her blue satin dressing gown, and she tied the belt firmly
about her slim waist before leaving the bathroom. Relieved to find the
bedroom empty, she seated herself in front of the dressing-table mirror
to remove the pins from her hair. Long, firm strokes with the brush
blended a sheen of honey into the soft brown, making her look young and
vulnerable, and somehow appealing when Anton entered the room a few
minutes later.

Her wide blue eyes took in his appearance from the sheen
of dampness on his dark hair after his shower, down to the brown
towelling robe which accentuated the superb physical fitness of his
wide-shouldered, lean-hipped frame, and her heart hammered against her
ribs as he came towards her. She was on the verge of panic when she
noticed that he was carrying two mugs on a tray, and her questioning
glance swept upwards once more to meet his.

'It's cocoa,' he told her abruptly with the faintest smile
touching his lips as he placed the tray on the dressing-table and
pulled up a chair for himself before handing her a mug.

Laura murmured her thanks unsteadily and frowned down into
the cocoa as if the reason for this thoughtful gesture lay hidden in
its milky depths.

'I haven't slipped poison into your drink, if that's what
you're thinking,' he mocked her, and a flush stained her cheeks as she
looked up sharply.

'I was thinking,' she told him coldly, 'that it was kind
of you to make us something to drink.'

'It was thirst, not kindness, that made me do it,' he
stated flatly, leaning forward to place a heavy hand on her knee. 'I'm
never kind, and well you know it.'

She stared down at his hand in a hypnotic fashion, un-able
to move when he slid it up along her thigh in a sensually arousing
caress that made her quiver responsively before he released her and sat
back in his chair to drink his cocoa.

There had been nothing casual about his touch. It had been
a deliberately taunting gesture to prove to her that he controlled her
as completely as he controlled everything else in his life, but, for
the first time, this thought did not repel her.

She felt his eyes on her while she sipped at her drink,
and cursed herself for not having put on something beneath her gown.
After almost two months of marriage to Anton she did not have to be
told that his tanned, muscular body was clad in nothing but his
towelling robe, and her cheeks went pink at the thought.

'Is there no possibility of your going with us to Gordon's
Bay?' she asked hurriedly, attempting to steer her thoughts along a
less disturbing avenue.

'No possibility at all.'

'But couldn't you—'

'Dammit, Laura,' he interrupted bitingly, placing his
empty mug on the tray with a thump that made her flinch visibly as he
got to his feet, 'I'm up to my ears in work, and you sit there nagging
like a child!'

'I wasn't nagging,' she insisted calmly. 'I merely asked
if—'

'I know damn well what you asked, and I've told you before
that it's impossible at the moment.'

'We're supposed to be a family, you know.'

A tense silence followed her quietly spoken remark, and he
turned to face her with barely concealed anger in the taut line of his
jaw.

'Are you suggesting that I'm shirking my
responsibilities?' he demanded with a dangerous calm that sent a shiver
up her spine, but she sustained his glance unflinchingly.

'I'm not suggesting anything of the kind, Anton, but you
have been away rather more than you've been home during the past weeks.'

His eyes narrowed, and that hateful cynicism curved his
hard mouth. 'Are you pleading Sally's cause or your own?'

Laura's back went stiff with resentment and anger, and she
rose to her feet jerkily to place her mug on the tray beside his. 'You
know very well that Sally has been looking forward to spending this
holiday at your cottage, and her plans have included you.'

'And you, Laura?' he mocked her. 'Did
your
plans include me as well?'

'I don't give a damn what you do!' she lied, turning her
back on him for fear of what he might see in her eyes, but Anton
reacted swiftly, and steely fingers snaked about her wrist, swinging
her about roughly to face him.

'I think you
do
give a damn!' he
said through his teeth, his eyes glinting steel-like down into hers.

'Let me go!' she cried, attempting to free her hand, but
succeeding only in having the other captured as well as he dragged her
up against him and rendered her helpless by pinning her wrists behind
her back.

The hard contact of his body against her own, and the
clean male scent of him, attacked her senses like the affect of a drug,
but as she threw her head back to glare up at him, he lowered his lips
to her exposed neck to explore the sensitive column of her throat where
every nerve and pulse quivered responsively.