Elizabeth Power - Terms Of Possession

On that, at least, she thought later, when she was sitting on the floral-patterned settee tucking into the dry toast and tea he had made her, he had been right, because the sickness had certainly begun to subside.

‘Did…you and Lisa come here for weekends?’ she asked hesitantly as he came in from the car with her luggage. The room, though spacious and well-furnished, reflected an old-world charm which was certainly not Lisa’s taste, she thought, remembering her friend’s liking for stark, contemporary designs.

‘No,’ he answered, and so tersely that she wondered if she should have mentioned it since he was still obviously blaming her for the break-up of his marriage. But then, in surprisingly neutral tones, he said, ‘Lisa never stayed here. This place belonged to an aunt of mine, and when she died last year it passed to me. I don’t get down here as often as I’d like, but it’s always been the perfect spot to come when I want to unwind and get life back into perspective. It’s also where I did a lot of my growing up.’

Of course. He had said he’d lived with various aunts, Nadine remembered, feeling the sudden throb of her pulse as her gaze clashed with his, the dark sapphire of his eyes holding hers with a hard, unsettling intensity.

What was he thinking? she wondered, weakened by a sexual magnetism she didn’t want to acknowledge. Because he had discarded his tie, loosened the pristine white shirt, so that she was disturbed by mental images of the last time she had seen him like that, in that other country house, but determinedly she pushed them out of her mind.

He might appeal to every feminine instinct she possessed, but she was only here with him now because of the consequences of that other time; because she was expecting his baby—the baby he had planned to share with Lisa. But he was still Lisa’s husband, and it was only because it was his baby that he was showing any concern or responsibility towards her, Nadine. What secret feelings she might harbour for him counted for nothing.

‘You look tired.’ Cameron’s voice was coolly detached. ‘I think you’d better go to bed. Come on, I’ll show you your room.’

His tone stirred a reckless rebellion in her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue and compliantly she went ahead of him, up the creaking stairs.

The room he showed her into had the same quaint charm as the sitting-room: the coverlet on the double bed matching the gaily floral curtains and valance, the predominant leafy greens picking out the natural green in the carpet.

‘The bathroom’s next door,’ he informed her, lifting her case up on to the chest beside the door. ‘If you need anything just call. I’m just along the corridor.’

Picking up on his last words, Nadine looked at him quickly. ‘Aren’t you…going back tonight?’ she asked, realising how foolish that sounded in view of the hour, and despairing of herself for letting him see how unsettled that made her feel as he smiled, mockingly aware.

‘No, Nadine, I’m not.’ He strode across to the bed where he deposited her travelling bag. ‘Were you imagining I was? Would you feel happier if the father of your child wasn’t around? Is that it?’

When she didn’t answer, too weary to launch herself into another verbal battle with him, he said, ‘Well, I’m going to be around—at every available opportunity. No child of mine is going to be deprived of its father-whether its mother likes it or not! So you’d better get used to the idea, sweetheart, and you’d better get used to it now!’

As he’d spoken he had tugged back the bedcovers on one side to reveal the crisp white pillowcases. Signs of a woman’s touch, Nadine couldn’t help thinking, although he had said Lisa didn’t come to the cottage. She guessed that he had someone in on a regular basis to clean.

‘You didn’t have to drag me away from my job—not so soon, anyway,’ Nadine protested tiredly, although feeling as she did at the moment she wasn’t totally averse to a break. ‘What am I supposed to do for the next few months, buried down here, miles from anywhere?’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he drawled, pulling the chintzy curtains on the night-shrouded countryside. ‘And, as I said, I’ll make it my business to be around as often as I can. It might not be what you want, but you were certainly quick enough to agree to it when you were planning this little campaign of single motherhood for yourself. What you seemed to overlook was that it takes two to accomplish conception, and in any form of partnership you can’t have all your own way. When you’re over the worst and feeling better you can get back to your typewriter, if you feel inclined to, but I don’t see any point in your wasting all your valuable legal experience in some insurance office. You’ll probably find more job satisfaction—and certainly less risk to our child—working here, for me.’

Feeling the dressing-table immediately behind her, Nadine leaned back, with her hands on its smooth surface to steady herself, rocked by the absolute audacity of the man.

‘Why?’ she enquired brittly, too bruised and angered by his mistaken opinion of her even to try to defend herself, or to wonder exactly what he was proposing. ‘As surety? To make sure I pay back all the money you think I wheedled out of you? She finished with bitter cynicism, because—heaven help her!—she would. She didn’t know how. But somehow—some day—she would!

She caught her breath as he came too close for her to move away from the dressing-table, that elusive scent of him playing dangerous games with her senses as he caught her small chin between his thumb and forefinger and said, ‘Oh, you’ll pay.’ His tone was lethally soft. ‘But not in the way you’re imagining, Nadine. Money doesn’t even figure in the cost you’re going to have to settle with me. Now go to bed, like a good girl. Unless of course…’ His gaze strayed down across the inviting softness of the bed so that, panicking, she pushed at him with all her strength and caught his softly mocking laughter as he went out.

WHEN Nadine awoke the sun was shining through a chink in the heavy floral curtains and, curious to see exactly where she was, she clambered out of bed.

The room obviously faced east, she realised as she pulled back the curtains, squinting from the dazzling rays of the sun. It was reflected almost blindingly by the gleaming bodywork of the Mercedes, which was parked beneath her window in the lane. On the other side, beyond a five-bar gate, fields stretched away to forestry and gently rolling hills, while in the immediate meadow-partly flanked on the lane-side by a row of chestnut trees—two horses grazed, coats brown and sleek, at one with the still, peaceful morning. No wonder Cameron had said it was a good place to unwind!

A tap on her door made her turn sharply, suddenly conscious of her short white lacy nightie. And she must have hesitated too long with her quiet, tentative, ‘Yes,’ or might simply not have been heard, because suddenly Cameron was coming in, although he stopped instantly when he saw her.

‘I thought you’d still be in bed,’ he remarked, obviously surprised. His glance over the feminine nightdress that she knew revealed far too much of her legs lifted to the tousled riot of auburn hair. ‘I didn’t bring you a tray as I wasn’t sure how much you could stomach in the mornings, but if you feel like something more than just dry toast it’s all prepared.’

This caring, domesticated side of him was so different from the hard antagonist who had left her the previous night that the disparity threw her for a moment. That, and the fact that the light cotton T-shirt he was wearing with pale, well-tailored trousers showed the muscular strength of his chest and broad shoulders, emphasising the hard, lean line of his waist.