Cyclone Season Page 5

  ‘Please, help me,’ she cried, grabbing at the nearest masculine shoulder. ‘I think he’s having an attack of some sort.’

  Helpful hands quickly eased the pallid figure from the dance floor, leaving Holly to make her own way to the edge of the room, where she stood trembling, hoping her stomach wouldn’t choose this moment to betray her.

  She stood with her head bowed, gulping in air in short, quick gasps and thanking heaven for the total coverage her gown provided. By morning, she knew, there would be black-and-blue marks in a host of places best unnoticed. Damn the man anyway, she thought, and wondered if somebody had spiked his drink or something. Based on the image he’d presented earlier in the evening, this final behaviour seemed quite out of character, but then ...

  ‘Are you all right?’ Wade’s voice cut into her thoughts like a hot knife through butter, and Holly snapped up her head with a start.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she managed to reply, surprised and wary because of the alertness of his attitude, the harshness in his voice and eyes.

  ‘Good, because I’ve made our excuses, and I think we’d best leave. Now.’

  ‘I … all right,’ she agreed. Lord, how could he be so angry? He couldn’t possibly see what she’d done, or had he, by some miraculous mischance?

  He stood beside her in the lift like some living, deep- breathing statue, silent and yet projecting an aura of anger that was tangible in the crowded lift. Only when they were in the privacy of the flat did he speak, and then his voice was ragged with scarce-subdued anger.

  ‘All right. I know what you did. Now I want to know why, and I warn you, it had better be good!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  I SHOULD think the answer would be obvious; I was quite seriously provoked,’ Holly replied, forcing herself to meet those icy green eyes.

  ‘By Alan Mason? You’ve got to be joking.’

  ‘I assure you that I am not joking, even though I find the truth as difficult to accept as you must — and I was there,’ Holly cried. ‘But the fact is that he was all over me like a rash. I... I think he must have had too much to drink.’

  ‘And you, of course, did absolutely nothing to provoke this, this assault?’ It wasn’t really a question; he was thinking out loud, Holly thought, but that didn’t stop her passionate denial.

  ‘I most certainly did not. I was standing there, alone, and he asked me to dance, which certainly didn’t seem unreasonable. But we no sooner got out on the floor than he ... well ... he became quite unmanageable.’

  ‘That unmanageable? Bloody hell. Holly, you damned near ruined him for life.’

  ‘I know, and believe me when I say that I’m sorry about it,’ Holly replied, trembling now. She hadn’t meant to seriously injure the man, merely to allay his intentions in a fashion that would get her free of the situation.

  ‘But what else could I do, short of creating a tremendous scene? At least this way everybody thinks he had an attack of some kind, which is surely better than—’

  ‘Everybody who didn’t see as clearly as I did,’ Wade interrupted. ‘Which, for your sake, I hope was indeed everybody. But ... Alan Mason? I don’t deny that he might have been attracted to you; he as much as told me so. But to have warranted such a response ... I can’t believe that.’

  ‘Well if you’d like to hold off your high-and-mighty judgment until morning, I’ll show you the bruises,’ Holly snapped, her own temper now raging to match his disbelief.

  ‘I don’t know why, and I don’t care why. For all I know his loving daughter put him up to it, but the fact is that nobody is going to manhandle me like that and expect me to put up with it. Nobody. It was ... it was just disgusting.’

  Whereupon her nerve broke, and Holly fled to her room in total disarray, only vaguely aware as she slammed the door that the front door of the flat was also being closed rather violently, with Wade Bannister on the outside.

  She cried briefly, then undressed and threw herself into the shower, scouring away the memory of Alan Mason’s assault and wishing she could also wash away her remembrance of his verbal approach, which had been even worse.

  An hour later, with no indication that Wade had or would return, she slipped into bed and after another hour of restlessness, was asleep. Once there, she slept well, waking refreshed and feeling much more able to cope with Wade’s accusations, but surprisingly, there was no need of that.

  When Holly had done her ablutions and put on her gown to go out into the sitting room, breakfast was just arriving and Wade Bannister was there waiting for it.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said, cheerful and smiling as if they’d parted the night before on the most amicable of terms.

  Holly smiled in return, but inwardly she was frowning at the questions that kept forming in her wariness. Why was he being so pleasant? What was he scheming about?

  Had he just arrived, she found herself wondering, after spending the night consoling Ramona Mason? Certainly he’d got back early enough to have changed; his casual denim trousers and shirt, open halfway to the waist and with the sleeves rolled up along bronzed, muscular arms, presented a distinct change from the immaculate evening attire in which she’d last seen him.

  Holly watched as breakfast was laid, then closed her eyes in sober thought. She hadn’t, she suddenly realised, even bothered to lock the door to her room. Nor had she bothered to sleep covered up, it being unseasonably warm. What if he had …?

  She looked up, unable to halt the slight flush that rose from the neckline of the robe. And, as she might have expected, he was not only watching, but apparently reading her mind as well.

  ‘Stop trying to appear modest,’ he grinned. ‘And don’t bother to ask if I looked in on you during the night or even came in to tuck you in, because I wouldn’t tell you if you did. Although, considering the effectiveness of your defences, I’m not all that sure anybody but a damned fool would have dared.’

  He was laughing at her. Holly decided, though his voice was no more than a warm, gentle chuckle. And he had looked in to check on her; what’s more, he didn’t really care that she knew it.

  ‘I’m sure you had other things to keep you occupied; I only hope you enjoyed yourself,’ she replied in tones as level as she could keep them. ‘When did you get back, or am I not allowed to ask?’

  He shrugged. ‘While you were sleeping, obviously. I didn’t bother to write down the exact time or anything. Why — would it matter?’

  ‘Certainly not to me,’ she replied. ‘But it obviously wasn’t early, because I lay awake for quite awhile and didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘Maybe you slept earlier and more soundly than you think,’ he replied, devilish lights hovering behind those clear green eyes. Wade Bannister certainly didn’t appear to be suffering the ravages of a late night.

  ‘Perhaps because I’ve got a clear conscience,’ Holly retorted, thoroughly convinced now that he was laughing at her, mocking her. And not pleased at either prospect. ‘And you might also have asked what I wanted for breakfast, instead of being your usual arrogant self.’

  ‘Oh, sit down and eat,’ Wade replied, this time with a distinctly weary shake of his head. ‘It’s obvious a good night’s sleep didn’t do much for your disposition; maybe a decent breakfast will at least make you fit to associate with.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ Holly replied. But she did obey the directive, listening with dismay as her stomach registered unexpected approval of the cereal, steak-and- eggs, toast and coffee, with a resounding growl.

  ‘Nice to see some sign of appreciation,’ he remarked dryly, then laughed at her obvious embarrassment. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Holly, stop trying to be such a pain. I’m sure that with the same amount of effort, and probably a lot less, you could actually be a fairly likeable person if you tried.’

  ‘And how absolutely observant of you to have noticed,’ she replied in a voice that dripped acid. ‘Would you please pass the sugar before my coffee gets any cooler.’

  Such reque
sts were about the extent of the conversation until the meal was over. Holly was in no mood to be sociable, and Wade, for whatever reasons, didn’t push her any more.

  Not, at least, until he was able to light a cigarette, lean back comfortably in his chair, and let his eyes roam significantly over the array of dishes, bowls and cups — all of them empty.

  ‘Well, my choice couldn’t have been that bad,’ he observed, though not speaking directly to Holly. He chose instead to direct his remarks to an invisible, nonexistent third person, accompanying the comments with expansive gestures.

  ‘Of course, left to her own devices, she’d have chosen tea and toast, or some such thing, been too proud to admit that it was an insufficient breakfast for a growing girl, and then suffered tremendous agony until she got into the airplane and could stock up on the bitsy little plastic sandwich things they call food in the sky. Very tough on the disposition; her aunt would have had my guts for garters when the poor child staggered off the plane in the last throes of sheer starvation . . .’

  ‘Oh ... stop it,’ Holly cried, unable to withstand the urge to laugh at his absurd histrionics.

  ‘Good,’ he said with exaggerated smugness. ‘I’m glad to see that you’ve got a sense of humour, at least.’

  Holly was less surprised that he had, but held her tongue on that subject. He was probably, she thought, just a bit light-headed after having had very little sleep. Except that he looked remarkably well rested for a man who ... no! She mustn’t think about that. It was, she decided, very much none of her business. Why shouldn’t he spend his last night in Perth with Ramona Mason? Certainly the blonde had made her own wishes on that subject clear enough, Holly’s presence notwithstanding.

  And she had to control an involuntary flush as she glanced over to see Wade watching her, obviously in tune to her thinking. But he didn’t bother to jibe her about it.

  ‘Are you sure you got enough to eat? If not, you’d better say so now, because we’re running short of time,’ he said. And she couldn’t quite tell if he was having a go at her or not.

  ‘I’ve had quite sufficient, thank you,’ she replied, certain she wouldn’t have to eat again that day, not after such an enormous breakfast.

  ‘Right, then go get yourself together. I wouldn’t want you to miss your plane.’

  The implication was too obvious, too tempting a lure to be resisted even on a full stomach. ‘My plane?’ Holly asked almost before she thought. Surely he was leading her on. After all his insistence that she wait so they could fly north together, and now he wasn’t coming?

  ‘Your plane,’ he confirmed. ‘I’ll drive you to the airport and see you off, but I won’t be coming with you. I’ve discovered some ... business that I have to take care of here.’

  Business? Holly could just imagine what kind of business. Tall and blonde and nearly certain of Wade Bannister. Did he realise, she wondered? Or was he so sure of himself, secure in his intense masculinity, that Ramona Mason’s certainty didn’t particularly worry him?

  ‘I’m surprised you think I can be trusted alone,’ she said, being deliberately bitchy and both loving the sensation and hating herself for doing it.

  He only shrugged. ‘Don’t let’s start that again. It’s over.’

  ‘Not that it matters anyway.’ The words were out before she thought, but they didn’t sound regretful. Only bitchy.

  Suddenly Wade was on his feet, looming over her with a quite distracting proximity. Holly couldn’t help but think of the power in those huge hands, the sheer physical presence that seemed to radiate from him like heat from a furnace.

  ‘No,’ he said, voice strangely soft. ‘No, it doesn’t seem to matter, does it? Tell me, dear Miss Grange ... what is it with you? First you are all shirty because you couldn’t have your own way; now you’ve got it and you’re still being hard to get on with. Are you always so difficult, or is it just me that makes you that way?’

  ‘I’m not at all hard to get along with,’ Holly retorted, not at all comfortable, either, at having to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Standing over her like that seemed to just increase his power, to make her increasingly vulnerable. Especially, she realised, since his position gave him an unrestricted view down the half-open front of her gown.

  And again, as if he was reading her mind. Wade grinned as she hastily reached to pull the gown closer around her throat and breasts.

  ‘Modesty? So soon after breakfast? Oh, spare me that, please. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. In fact, it isn’t half so provocative as that dress you wore last night; I’m not surprised poor old Alan Mason blotted his copy book; you’ve no idea how close I came to it myself.’

  ‘Damn you!’ Holly cried, thrusting out of her chair to stand before him, her eyes snapping with frustration as she trembled in her need to strike out at him.

  It was no contest. He stood there, hands on his hips as he quite deliberately surveyed her face and figure with bold, if not hungry eyes. ‘I really do wish you’d clean up your language,’ he said. ‘What’s your aunt going to think if you go swearing like that every time my name’s mentioned?’

  ‘Obviously she doesn’t know you as I do, or she’d very likely do some swearing of her own,’ Holly retorted. ‘I really don’t know how she can stand to work for anyone as chauvinistic and arrogant as you are.’

  ‘Well then you’ll just have to ask her, won’t you?’ he chuckled. ‘Who knows, you just might learn something.’

  ‘About you? I already know more than 1 want to,’ she sneered back. ‘And none of it, I assure you, is very much worth the trouble involved.’

  ‘Oh? Funny, I’d have thought differently,’ he drawled, reaching out to take her gently by the shoulders. His hands seemed to move in slow motion, but Holly’s body was even slower. She moved away, her mind solid in its resistance, but it was as if she were nailed to the floor, unable to shift quickly enough to evade his touch.

  She was powerless once his fingers closed on her upper arms, drawing her softly to him as his mouth dipped to capture her lips. His eyes locked on hers, holding her, compelling her to keep looking up, to disobey the mind that screamed at her to turn away from his kiss, to struggle free, to fight.

  ‘I wonder if all this bad temper is the result of me not joining you last night,’ he mused in a husky voice just before his lips closed on Holly’s mouth, ignoring her futile struggles as he kissed with experienced, deliberate thoroughness.

  She could feel the male hardness of him through the thin gown as his arms slid lower to clasp her against him, and despite her mental rejection, Holly knew only too quickly that her body didn’t, couldn’t, share that rejection. As her lips moulded to follow the path of his mouth on hers, she knew she should be screaming her objections, but her mouth only wanted more of him.

  The arms that raised to flail at him, to claw her way to freedom, instead ended up curved across his shoulders, her fingers unable to do more than tangle themselves in the hair at his nape, helping to hold them together in an embrace that grew increasingly passionate as Holly’s mental resistance also faded before the insistent clamour of her heart.

  It was madness! But such a madness she’d never experienced, never even dreamed of. When he freed her long enough for his roving hand to seek the opening of her gown, she twisted not in flight, but to ease his access, revelling in his touch.

  And the touch of his fingers on her breasts was like the gentle caress of a sunbeam, at first. Only when her body cried out in silent response did his caress become more and more insistent, stroking and lifting her responses until she thought she could take no more, until she thought she would swoon at the sheer ecstasy of it.

  The gown had fallen open, allowing his hands access, and now he manoeuvred her so that his mouth, too, could reach, gliding like quicksilver down the hollow of her throat, his tongue in the hollow between her breasts.

  Holly reeled as the waves of sensation flowed through her, her hands clasping at his broad shoulders for the
support she must have, lest she fall. Then his hands were firm at her waist, steadying her before one hand freed itself to begin a journey across her hips, across the flatness of her stomach and thence to the centre of her universe, lifting her into a riotous sunburst of sensation.

  Holly was crying out; she could hear her voice, if not distinguish the words, yet she knew they were not cries of objection. She wanted him as she had never wanted anything, wanted him to possess her, to conquer her, to continue his lovemaking to its ultimate, inevitable conclusion, to bring her the fulfilment she now craved with addictive necessity.

  Her body had abandoned all reason; her mind was drugged by the intensity of her own responses. As his mouth lifted from her breasts, cruising trails of sensation back up to where her lips waited impatiently.

  Her own hands searched across the furry expanse of his chest, then lower to unbutton the rest of his shirt and explore the muscular body thus revealed. She felt his belt buckle beneath her fingers, then sent them lower, seeking the essence of maleness her body so avidly craved.

  Wade groaned at her touch, the groan mingling with the sweetness of his breath in her mouth, mingling with the roar of her own feminine aliveness at his touch on her body.

  Then he was lifting her, the untied robe flowing behind as he carried her in his arms, locking her spirit to him with his lips as they moved across the room, holding her as he fumbled only an instant in opening the door to his bedroom.

  He placed her on the bed gently, holding her without force as he shed his shirt with one hand, then reached to undo his belt, allowing his trousers to slip to the floor.

  Holly’s voice was a soughing murmur of acceptance, even of encouragement, but the strident demand of the telephone made Wade’s response an evocative curse as he saw and felt the sound haul her back to the borders of reality. Not all the way, but far enough that her conscience cried out in alarm at the nearness of her total surrender.