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An awareness that such need, such intensity could not be endured for too long made her cry out imploringly to him, a jumble of words which made no logical sense and yet at the same time which said everything.
And then unbelievably, suddenly, she was there in that special place she had heard about, read about, and always privately felt she would never experience, and the joy and the wonder of it brought tears to her eyes and clamped tight her throat so that while James shuddered helplessly against her all she could do was bury her face against his throat and hold him tight in a wordless gesture of delight, awe and exhaustion.
When he turned her gently on to her side and wrapped her tenderly in his arms, kissing her softly and lingeringly, she felt as boneless and fluid as a length of silk, as feline and replete as a basking cat, and fulfilled in a way she had never dreamed possible for anyone, never mind imagined experiencing herself.
‘I want to spend the night with you,’ James told her softly. ‘I want to wake up with you in my arms. To know that this wasn’t all just an illusion, an impossible fantasy. But perhaps not this time. There’s Lucy to consider.’
Sleepily she nodded her head. Yes, there was Lucy to consider and, delightful though the prospect of waking up with him next to her in the morning was, common sense and caution warned her against giving in to such an impulse.
And besides, right now…right now she felt far too bemused, far too complete…far too… She yawned hugely and closed her eyes and almost instantly was deeply asleep.
As he felt her body relax in his arms, James looked down at her.
It had hit him so unexpectedly, so unwantedly, this need for her, this desire, this overwhelming tide of emotion and hunger.
He knew he had rushed her, perhaps even using a time of great emotional vulnerability and anxiety against her; taking advantage of it to draw her into a deeper intimacy than she would otherwise have allowed him.
And he had made love to her without taking any precautions to protect her from an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy.
Soberly he studied her. How would she feel when she woke up?
He wished he could stay with her, but he had promised Nicholas that he would be waiting for him when he returned from the clinic.
He sighed, feeling the first sharp knifing of a resentment against both his brother-in-law and against Clarissa herself in her possessive dependence on him.
She would not easily accept the existence of another woman in his life, especially not one who was more important to him than she was herself. And especially not this woman.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TANIA awoke to the most glorious sense of wellbeing she could ever remember experiencing in her life. She stretched languorously and lazily beneath the bedclothes before she realised just where the lovely sensation of hedonistic relaxation came from. Then she tensed and looked wildly around her bedroom as though expecting James to suddenly materialise out of thin air.
James… James Warren had come here last night and she… She sat bolt upright, hugging her arms protectively around her knees and took a deep breath. There was no use trying to hide from it. Last night she and James Warren had been lovers.
Lovers… She shivered a little at the easy, tempting way the word slid into her mind… And yet…and yet to describe what had happened between them as merely sex was neither honest nor fair, she recognised. Theirs had not been a mere casual sexual encounter to be quickly brushed aside and forgotten.
James had been open and honest with her about his feelings, about his desire for her. And she… She shivered again, unable to remember exactly what she might or might not have verbally betrayed to him during the intense emotional heat of their passion.
All she could remember was that James had made it plain to her that he wanted a continuing relationship with her. He had fallen in love with her, he had said. She started to shake, tears suddenly filling her eyes. Oh, God, what was happening to her? She had known the first moment she saw him how dangerously attracted she was to him, but then she had never dreamed…never imagined that he had been equally aware of her.
But last night he had told her, shown her. Last night should never have happened, she berated herself guiltily. What on earth had happened to her normal caution and reserve? Why, she had practically invited him to make love to her…virtually insisted and begged…
‘Mum! Is it time to get up yet? And can I go round and see Susan? I want to tell her all about the puppy James is going to give me.’
Quickly rubbing away her tears, Tania forced herself to respond easily and lightly to Lucy’s good morning hug. Fortunately her daughter appeared to have emerged from what could have been a traumatic and haunting experience with no apparent after-effects, and it would be foolish of her to start behaving in an emotional and possibly alarming way towards Lucy, just because she was so conscious of how easily her precious child could have been hurt physically and emotionally, perhaps even permanently damaged by Clarissa Forbes’s jealousy. If James hadn’t gone round to see his sister when he had… If… If she hadn’t stopped to serve that woman, but had gone to meet Lucy as she had said she would… If Clarissa hadn’t seen her walking alone in the street… If… So many ifs, but there was no point in torturing herself and possibly upsetting Lucy by dwelling on them. It was enough that she would have to spend the rest of her life carrying the burden of knowing how vulnerable Lucy had been.
Well, from now on she intended to make sure that Lucy’s safety was never put at risk in that way again. From now on…
As Lucy wriggled away from her she heard her saying excitedly, ‘I haven’t chosen a name for the puppy yet, Mummy. I’m going to ask James what he thinks. I like him, don’t you?’
‘What?’
Tania focused on Lucy’s bright, happy face.
‘James, Mum.’ Lucy repeated patiently. ‘I like him.’
‘Yes…yes he’s very nice,’ Tania agreed automatically. James had saved her daughter’s life. Had been there for Lucy to protect her from harm when she herself had not. An odd ache, a strange tug of emotion which was both gratitude and a little resentment…a little jealousy pulled at her heart. She had seen the obvious affection and trust that Lucy felt for James when he had first brought her home. Had seen it and had somehow felt excluded from it.
Was that what had driven her so precipitately into James’ arms? Was that why…?
She turned her head to gaze unfocusedly out of her bedroom window.
Why not admit it? she derided herself inwardly. You’re hopelessly, helplessly, totally, idiotically in love with the man, and you know it.
‘Mum.’ Lucy was shaking her arm impatiently. ‘When are you going to get up? I’m hungry and I want to go round and tell Susie about my puppy.’
‘I’m getting up now,’ Tania assured her, but she couldn’t stop herself from adding protectively, ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to go round to Susan’s today, poppet.’
Instantly Lucy’s face fell as she protested, ‘But, Mum…’
The phone rang before Tania could speak. As she picked up the receiver she knew her heart had started to pound far too fast. Her hand felt cold and clammy, and her voice when she said the number was high and very strained.
‘Tania, it’s Ann. I just thought I’d give you a ring and see how you’re feeling.’
Ann. Her heart plummeted downwards like a sky diver without a parachute, the sickness of disappointment knotting her stomach. Stupid of her to have assumed that it must be James.
‘I’m fine. We both are,’ Tania told her, forcing herself to smile so that her friend would not pick up the disappointment she was feeling. ‘I’ll tell you all about it, but not now. It seems Clarissa Forbes happened to see Lucy walking down the street and picked her up. James found her there when he went round to see Clarissa. He said that Clarissa has had some kind of breakdown.’
‘A breakdown? The woman must be totally insane to do a thing like that!’ Ann expostulated acidly. ‘How’s Lucy?’
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‘Bright as a button, with no apparent after-effects,’ Tania told her wryly. ‘James has promised her a puppy and she seems more concerned about that than anything else.’
‘Susie keeps asking when she can see her.’
‘Not today,’ Tania told her quickly, and then added huskily, ‘I feel as though I can hardly bear to let her out of my sight at the moment.’ She spoke softly, keeping her voice low so that Lucy, who was at the other side of the room, couldn’t hear her.
‘Well, that’s understandable enough,’ Ann responded gently. ‘But for Lucy’s sake perhaps it would be better not to fuss over her too much. If she isn’t showing any after-effects…’
Sensible advice, but not the advice Tania really wanted to hear. She had an atavistic, deep-rooted need to keep her daughter as close to her side as possible. It would be a long time before the events of yesterday were something she could remember without terror, if ever.
Having assured Ann that she would be sending Lucy to school in the morning as usual, she said goodbye and replaced the receiver.
Would James ring her? Would he perhaps come and see her? And if he did, what would he say to her…or she to him? What had seemed so perfect, so natural last night, now this morning seemed to have been an alien, bewildering act on her part; something she had never even remotely imagined herself doing, the kind of intimacy which was surely too much; far too fast.
And yet… And yet…even as the thoughts formed, her body, as though rebelling against them, gave a tiny little shiver, reminding her of the pleasure James had shown her, had given her, had shared with her, and a weakening wave of tenderness and longing swept over her.
An hour later, breakfast over, Lucy resigned if not altogether happy about the fact that they would be spending the entire day together, she was trying to coax her daughter into a more enthusiastic frame of mind about how they could best spend the day, when Lucy, who had been looking out of the sitting-room window, suddenly cried out excitedly, ‘It’s James, Mum, James is here!’
Immediately Tania leapt out of her chair and rushed over to the window, stopping abruptly before she got there, her face flushed as she chewed frantically on her bottom lip, torn between apprehension and delight.
James here. What was she going to say to him? What was he going to say to her? She stood uncertainly where she was. How awful if he had caught her rushing over to the window to gaze at him like a lovesick teenager, and yet when she heard him ring their private doorbell at the rear entrance to the building her heart pounded as idiotically as though she were that age.
‘I’ll go and let him in,’ Lucy announced excitedly, bounding out of the room before she could stop her.
She heard Lucy chattering enthusiastically to him as they came up the stairs, and suddenly wished despairingly that she were wearing something more sophisticated than her old worn jeans and the baggy sweatshirt with the Mickey Mouse motif on it which Lucy had chosen for her.
She kept her back to the door as Lucy pushed it open, cravenly trying to pretend she was engrossed in the newspaper article she was trying to read.
‘Mum, James wants us to go to his house and have lunch with him there,’ Lucy announced excitedly as she burst into the room.
She dropped the paper, the words of denial springing to her lips, her emotions immediately shying away from the intimacy Lucy’s words conjured up, but even as she started to make the denial she was looking at him and seeing the lines of strain and anxiety tensing his face, and her resistance, her apprehension, her doubts melted in the heat that suddenly filled her.
‘I would have been here earlier,’ he was telling her huskily, ‘but there were things we had to do. Formalities to attend to. The police have agreed not to make any charges against Clarissa for the time being, pending her specialist’s report on her mental condition.
‘Nicholas and I both went to see him this morning. It’s just as well the boys are back at school.’ He looked so grave, so worn down that somehow she was beside him, placing her hand comfortingly on his arm.
Unlike her he was formally dressed; in a dark suit, a crisp white shirt, a sober tie, almost like a man wearing mourning, she reflected as she studied the shadows and hollows of his face.
‘The specialist believes she will recover, given time. It’s come to light that there was some sort of minor crisis when Clive was born, but I was away at the time, and the doctor put it down to post-baby blues. However, now, with hindsight, the specialist feels that it could have been the trigger for this latest attack.’
‘But Clive is seven years old.’
‘I know, but in the specialist’s view…’ He shrugged almost helplessly.
Tania forced herself to ask him, ‘And Clarissa, how is she in herself?’
She knew that it was only her love for him, her compassion for and aching understanding of all that he wasn’t saying, but which she could see written so clearly in his eyes, that made her ask the question.
Right now she was finding it hard to summon up much sympathy for Clarissa. All she could think was how easily James’s stepsister might have harmed her own child.
‘Deeply sedated at the moment, and for some time to come. I thought you and Lucy might like to come back to Dove Court and have lunch with me. Rupert is there,’ he added for Lucy’s benefit, explaining tiredly to Tania, ‘I offered to take charge of him for Nicholas. He’s going to have enough on his plate what with his work and visiting both Clarissa and the boys. Of course, I’ll be sharing the visiting with him. Luckily I haven’t any overseas trips planned at the moment, and I can shift my work around so that I can spend some time with Clarissa during the day when Nicholas is working.’
Tania didn’t like the jealousy that filled her as she listened to these plans. Of course he would want to visit his stepsister, to make sure she was receiving the very best of treatment. She must not forget that James loved Clarissa, just as she loved Lucy.
But James was not Clarissa’s father, she told herself rebelliously and a little bitterly. There wasn’t even any real blood relationship between them.
Which surely made James’s concern for her all the more praiseworthy. She had no right to feel jealous, to feel angry almost as though in wanting to see his stepsister James was somehow being disloyal to her.
However, it was one thing to tell herself logically she was being both unfair and a little ridiculous; it was another thing altogether to translate these admirable thoughts into an emotion strong enough to wipe out the dark feelings possessing her.
‘It’s very good of you to call,’ she told him coolly, ignoring the way his expression changed, weariness giving way to a sharp look of disquiet, of pain almost as she added curtly, ‘Unfortunately I’m afraid we shan’t be able to have lunch with you. I’ve already turned down an invitation from Ann Fielding and quite honestly, I feel that for the moment, I want to spend as much time as possible with Lucy. Just the two of us.’
The tiny shiver she gave wasn’t forced, nor was the sudden shadowing of her eyes, or the way her hands trembled, and she saw from the way that he was looking at her that James knew quite well what had caused them.
‘I’m more sorry than I can say about what happened with Lucy,’ he told her in a low voice so that Lucy herself could not overhear them. ‘And I do understand your need to be with her, to protect her. But no good purpose will be served by your being over-protective towards her. All you’ll do is stifle her, cause her—’
It was too much. Tania turned on him immediately, snapping bitterly, ‘How dare you accuse me of being over protective, when you can’t even admit that you’ve spoiled and protected your own stepsister, a grown woman, not a child, so much that you’re the pivot for her whole life.’
She regretted the cruel words the moment she had uttered them, and knew that it was jealousy and fear that had drawn them from her heart like poisoned arrows which she had let fly at him, wanting to wound and hurt.
He had gone pale, whether with anger or anguish she co
uld not tell.
‘You’re quite right, of course,’ he told her stiffly. ‘I am the last person to criticise, although in Clarissa’s case… Well, emotionally, mentally she was never lucky enough to have the resilience of your Lucy. Perhaps when you’re feeling in a more…receptive frame of mind I can tell you a little about her background. And, before you say it, maybe I am making excuses for her, or looking for reasons.’ His voice was toneless, hollow and drained of all emotion as he turned away from her. ‘Perhaps that’s the only way I can alleviate my own burden of guilt.’ He turned back to her and demanded fiercely, ‘Do you really not suppose that I have asked myself over and over again how much of this whole sorry mess is my fault? How much of the blame lies on my shoulders, how much of Clarissa’s unfortunate weakness, her dependence, her jealousy has been, if unknowingly, fostered by me?’
He looked so tormented, so stripped of the pride and self-assurance that had seemed so much a part of him that instinctively she sought to comfort him, forgetting her own fears, her own feelings, as she placed her hand comfortingly on his arm and said shakily, ‘You mustn’t blame yourself.’
‘Mustn’t I?’ His voice was self-derisive. ‘How can I do otherwise?’
‘Mum, when are we going to see James’s house?’ Lucy demanded, breaking into their conversation.
It was James who started to answer her, beginning wearily, ‘Perhaps another time—’
‘We’re going just as soon as you’ve got your coat on,’ Tania interrupted him quickly. ‘And you can bring my jacket for me as well, please,’ she called after her as Lucy rushed out of the room.
When they were on their own she looked at James and added huskily, ‘That’s if the invitation still stands.’
‘It still stands,’ James assured her.
His hands were on her arms now, drawing her close to him, his breath warm against her skin as he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered softly, ‘And I still haven’t told you how much last night meant to me.’