Sara Craven - Past All Forgetting

Extreme behaviour had got her nowhere, she decided, so she would see what the utmost circumspection would achieve. At first it did not seem to be achieving very much at all. Rian’s eyebrows had risen when Philip had arrived at his table with his partner, and his greeting to Janna was cool. Everyone else in the party was at least five years older than she was, and Janna soon began to feel very out of things. Much of the general conversation was lost on her as she did not know the people or the incidents being referred to. Philip was good-natured enough, but it was obvious from his attitude that he now rather regretted bringing her, and Janna guessed that he had been teased by some of his contemporaries for cradle-snatching. Suppressed tears of mortification made her eyes sparkle even more brilliantly than usual, and she held her head high as she sipped her fruit juice, and tried to pretend that it didn’t matter that she was the only person at the table not old enough to order something alcoholic.

It was just after the interval that the miracle happened. She came back from the cloakroom to find everyone else dancing and Rian sitting alone at the table. He rose courteously as she approached and held the chair as she sat down, but she knew that he was hiding his annoyance at the situation. Inwardly she was jubilant.

She smiled at him, using her lowered eyelashes quite shamelessly.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?’

‘I wasn’t,’ he said dampeningly. ‘However, if you insist.’ He rose and held out his hand.

She swallowed down a swift feeling of humiliation, and accompanied him on to the dance floor. It was a fast-moving beat number, and there was no opportunity for conversation. She could have cried with disappointment. She knew she could make him interested in her, if only—only she was given the chance. Like an answer to her prayer, the lights dimmed and the band’s tempo changed to a slow smoochy number. Amid wolf whistles and catcalls, couples went willingly into each other’s arms. Janna glanced shyly at Rian and saw that amusement was battling with exasperation on his face. For one appalled moment, she thought he was going to take her back to the table in front of everyone. Then, with a slight shrug, he held out his arms.

For a few seconds she was too unnerved with happiness to be aware of anything other than she was at last in his arms where she had wanted to be. Then her senses began to report other messages, the sheer hard muscularity of his body against hers, the sharp, expensive smell of the cologne he used, and almost involuntarily she moved closer to him, pressing herself invitingly against him and sliding her arms round his waist under his jacket.

For a moment he tensed, and she heard him give a soft, unamused laugh.

‘You, my sweet Janna, have all the makings of a first-class witch—but of course you know that,’ he murmured.

‘I don’t know anything except that this is the first time I’ve ever danced with you.’ She tipped her head back and looked up at him, deliberately provocative.

He tapped the end of her nose with a careless finger. ‘Don’t try your tricks on me, little one. I’ve seen them all before and performed by experts. Go and cut your milk teeth on someone your own age, and I don’t mean Philip Avery.’

When she spoke, her voice shook with anger. ‘Don’t be so—so bloody patronising! You’re only ten years older than me, Rian Tempest, so what gives you the right to criticise my conduct?’

He grinned down into her furious face. ‘That’s more like it, Janna. The sophisticated siren bit doesn’t suit you, you know. You’ve got years ahead of you for that. I preferred the kid with ice-cream round her mouth who used to tail after me at cricket matches.’

‘How very sad,’ she said, struggling to regain her poise. ‘I’m afraid I buried her some time ago, along with my ankle socks and the braces on my teeth.’

‘It’s sadder than you know,’ he answered briefly. There was a long pause, then he said quite gently, ‘Look, Janna, I know—or rather I suspect—what you’re up to. I won’t pretend I’m not flattered. I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t. You’re young, very lovely, and very desirable. It’s a combination that adds up to dynamite and I—I don’t want to be around when the explosion happens. I have enough excitement in my work. When I’m on leave, I’m looking for some rest and relaxation.’

‘Is that what you get from Barbara Kenton?’ some inner demon made her ask.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘I hardly think that’s any of your business,’ he drawled. ‘But let me advise you against trying to emulate her example. You—er—lack the basic equipment at the moment.’ He let his eyes rest insolently on the modest cleavage revealed by the dipping neckline of her pale yellow dress.

Her cheeks were flaming. ‘You—you swine!’ she breathed.

He bowed his head in ironic acknowledgment. ‘That’s a safer thing to be in your eyes than the answer to the maiden’s prayer, Janna,’ he said drily. ‘Now shall we sit the rest of this out?’

She had wept bitterly that night, but had risen the following morning with all the mercurial optimism of youth. He had said she was lovely and desirable, as well as being young. She would build on that.

She came back to the present with a start as Colin said irritably, ‘Are you going to spend all day gazing at this damned view?’

She turned. He was standing in the open french windows, staring at her reproachfully. ‘It’s nearly time for you to get back, and you haven’t even looked at the bedrooms or the kitchens.’

She looked down at the stone flags. ‘I don’t think I can live here, Colin,’ she said at last.

‘What?’ His voice rose incredulously.

‘We—we don’t have to buy this house, do we?’ She moistened her lips and stared desperately around her. ‘It’s too big, for one thing. There must be seven or eight bedrooms at least. You said yourself that we’d need staff. I’d rather looked forward to coping by myself—when we were first married, at least.’

Colin’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you, Janna. I thought you knew that you weren’t going to be Little Mrs Average in her three-bedroomed semi. That isn’t our sort of life, darling. You must be realistic about it.’

She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Colin. I—I just don’t care for this house. I can’t visualise myself ever living here.’

His expression became slightly more indulgent. ‘I’ve rushed you a bit, haven’t I, darling? I’m sorry, it was stupid of me. I just thought you’d be as thrilled as I am about it all.’ He walked over to her and slid his arms round her waist, pressing his lips to the side of her neck. ‘Forgive me?’ he whispered.

‘Of course.’ The smile was difficult, but she made the effort.

He was silent for a minute or two. Then, ‘It is a glorious view,’ he beguiled her. ‘Are you quite sure you want to let it go?’ He waited, but she made no reply. ‘Think about it, Janna,’ he said persuasively. ‘Properties like this don’t come on the market any old day, you know.’ He kissed her again. ‘And you’re so lovely,’ he muttered thickly. ‘It’s just the setting you need. You were born to be the mistress of this house, darling.’

Suddenly she wanted to be free of his seeking hands. Nervously, she pulled away, trying to laugh. ‘Colin, I’ve got to get back to school. I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, and I will think it over, I promise.’

‘I can’t ask more than that.’ He linked his fingers companionably through hers and led her back into the drawing room, locking the french windows behind them. ‘I know you’ll change your mind, my sweet. I’ll arrange for a survey to be done, and we’ll come again next week when we have more time and go all over the place.’