Comparative Strangers (13 page)

The food looked wonderful—Amanda saw her favourite
nasi goreng
and duck broiled in a banana leaf among the dishes—but she wasn’t hungry any more.

She touched Malory’s sleeve. ‘I—I think I’ll go back to the bungalow.’ She saw him begin to frown, and went on hurriedly, ‘We have a long flight ahead of us, and I’m rather tired.’

‘Just as you wish,’ he said after a pause. ‘Do you want me to walk you back?’

She forced a smile. ‘Why—because the demon king, Rawana, might be waiting to snatch me away? No, I’ll be fine. Enjoy your dinner.’

She slipped away through the throng. She would occupy herself with some packing, she thought, and save time in the morning.

But when she was by herself, she found she was in no real hurry to return to the bungalow. A sliver of moon had appeared above the trees, and she lingered on one of the fragile-seeming bridges, looking at its reflection in the pool beneath.

She had once read somewhere that if you captured the moon in the water, your wish would be granted, and found she was wondering what she would wish for, if it was true.

But she knew what she wanted. She wished for the past weeks to be wiped away, and Nigel to be waiting for her at Calthorpe, loving and faithful.

The reflection blurred and fragmented as a fish broke the surface of the pool, and she was glad, because—just for a moment—she’d seen another, very different, image in the water.

And that made no sense at all, because Malory was the last person in the world she wanted—wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he? she appealed to that cold, ironic little moon, then turned away, thankful that she was alone. Because, if Malory had been with her, she knew that, on this island for lovers, she would have been tempted to go into his arms.

And that, of course, was impossible even to contemplate.

Could there be a damper, bleaker month than January? Amanda asked herself in exasperation as she marched across the soggy field in Harvey’s eager wake. And could there be a worse day to spend on one’s own than Sunday?

Although, of course, she wasn’t entirely alone, she amended. The Priddys were there, and she had Harvey, who was currently investigating a ditch with the enthusiasm of a dog who has just discovered some particularly noisome unpleasantness.

She called him to heel and he came, looking so consciously virtuous that Amanda forgot to be grumpy, and burst out laughing. ‘You fraud,’ she told him, rubbing the top of his head. ‘As soon as your master gets back from his trip, you know quite well you’ll give me the elbow.’

She had spent a considerable part of the past six weeks waiting for Malory to return from some journey or another. She’d told herself it was only to be expected, then heard Mrs Priddy declare one day to George that she’d never known Dr Templeton spend so much time away from home before.

Amanda whisked herself out of earshot before the good woman was tempted to speculate on the cause. It was naturally never referred to, but Amanda knew the housekeeper was still reeling from the separate bedrooms issue.

She sighed as she unhitched the gate that led into the lane. Life had been far from easy since she had returned from their honeymoon. She’d decided to leave work, or perhaps it was fairer to say work had decided to leave her, since she’d discovered, on presenting herself back at the office, that her successor was being briskly trained. Jeffrey had been frankly and brutally chauvinistic about his reasons. ‘I want a girl who can keep her mind on her job, not a dewy-eyed bride planning the evening dinner for two,’ he’d told her. ‘But there’s a spot in personnel you can have until you get pregnant’

She had thanked him quietly, and handed in her notice. She’d observed in the past that Jeffrey never had married women working in his department, but it had never occurred to her that his prejudice could apply to her. One of these days, she thought, he would end up in front of an industrial tribunal.

And now she had to adapt herself to the slower pace of life at Aylesford Green. She had discovered almost at once that Malory had been telling no less than the truth when he’d said he needed a hostess. There had been a number of drinks parties and dinners over the Christmas period, and she felt she’d handled them with aplomb. Certainly, he’d ventured no criticism. Well, at least she could play that particular role for him, she thought with a little sigh. And it seemed to be all he wanted from her. She closed the gate, and let Harvey run ahead of her, along the verge towards the house.

The realisation that Malory might be deliberately avoiding her had been a disturbing one. She had found herself wondering more than once if he’d decided their hasty marriage had been a fatal mistake, and whether his frequent absences were a hint that he was planning to end it as soon as decently possible. But what was a suitable time-span for a marriage which had never really begun? Amanda asked herself restlessly.

To her bewilderment, she had discovered that the house seemed barely alive when Malory was away. Not that he sought her company particularly when he did come home, she reminded herself wryly. And, when they
were
together, he was polite, but aloof.

She’d been amazed, too, to find that when he was expected back she was on edge, watching the windows, listening for the sound of his car. She made sure also that Mrs Priddy had cooked something he particularly liked for dinner, and found herself taking extra trouble with her clothes and make-up. Not, she thought, that he ever seemed to notice. The last time he had looked at her—really looked—had been that evening on the beach in Bali. Maybe she should turn up the central heating, and greet him in her bikini and sarong, Amanda suggested to herself, digging her hands into the pockets of her sheepskin coat.

Or maybe she should remember why they had got married in the first place, and stop trying to attract his attention in any degree. After all, what did it matter whether he noticed her, or what he thought about her? She’d wanted a refuge from Nigel, and he’d wanted a hostess, so they should both be perfectly satisfied.

But I’m not a bit content, she thought morosely. And I’m not sleeping properly, either. You could store potatoes in the bags under my eyes. And it’s always worse when he’s away, because I can’t stop remembering what he said about not staying celibate and—imagining things.

She rounded the last bend before the house, and stopped with a groan. Harvey was sitting on the verge, whimpering, one paw held pathetically in the air.

‘Oh, Harv!’ She crouched beside him. ‘What have you done to yourself?’ She took the paw, and tried to examine it. There was no obvious wound, but she didn’t know what to look for, and Harvey, as if sensing her uncertainty, yelped, then growled softly.

‘I can’t carry you—you’re too heavy,’ she told him, straightening. She walked slowly, and he limped beside her through the gate on to the drive.

And there, in front of the house, was Malory’s car. Amanda stopped short, aware that she had flushed suddenly, and that her heart seemed to be beating twice as fast as normal.

It was shock, she told herself defensively. After all, he hadn’t been expected back until tomorrow.

At that moment, Malory appeared in the doorway. He was still in the dark formality of his business clothes, and he looked tired, Amanda thought, breaking into a little run.

She said breathlessly, ‘Malory—I’m so glad you’re home!’

His brows lifted, and he managed a shadow of a grin. I’m deeply flattered. What’s brought this about?‘

‘It’s Harvey,’ she said. ‘He’s got something wrong with his paw. Will you have a look, or shall I call the vet?’

His smile faded. ‘I’ll see to him.’ He squatted on his haunches, persuading the spaniel, without difficulty, to roll over on his back. Amanda joined them, kneeling on the damp gravel.

She watched the long deft fingers probing gently in a way she wouldn’t have dared emulate. Malory talked to the dog softly, his blue eyes intent as he bent over him.

He needed a shave, Amanda thought, her own gaze fixed almost obsessively on his face. There was a shadow of stubble along his jawline. She found herself wanting to rub her fingers along the faint roughness of his skin and smooth away the lines of tension beside his mouth. It was a very long time since the one and only occasion he’d kissed her, but she could remember how his lips had felt on her own, and the totally male scent of his skin. She could breathe it now, she thought wonderingly, or was it her mind playing tricks?

He said with quiet triumph, ‘There’ and showed her the long thorn he’d just extracted from Harvey’s pad.

‘I couldn’t see a thing.’ She was glad that bending over the dog gave her an excuse for her hectically heightened colour.

‘He often picks things up like that’ he said. ‘And he’s a terrible hypochondriac. I bet he limps for a week.’ He rose lithely. ‘And he seems to have been rolling in something iffy, too. Maybe you could sweet-talk George into giving him a bath, while I get out of this damned suit.’ He gave her a swift, perfunctory smile and went into the house.

Amanda watched him go, then walked Harvey round to the back door, where George cheerfully took charge of him.

She tugged off her muddy boots and left them next to the cupboard in the rear passage. She made herself move slowly and deliberately, feeling every pulse-beat echo through her being like the slam of a sledge hammer. She could think of nothing but the weariness in Malory’s face and the way his smile had died when he realised her welcome had strings.

Her stockinged feet made no sound on the stairs, nor along the carpeted landing.

His bedroom door was open, but the room seemed deserted. For a moment, she was frozen with disappointment, then he came out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. He’d discarded his jacket, waistcoat and tie, and his hair was ruffled. He stopped when he saw her, his brows lifting in surprise.

‘More problems?’ he asked with a kind of resignation. ‘Won’t they keep?’

She shook her head. She supposed she should say something, but no words would come—at least, none that meant anything.

She went to him, standing on tiptoe to slide her arms round his neck, drawing down his head so she could kiss his unsmiling mouth.

He was so still, he could have been carved from rock, and for one terrible minute she thought he was going to reject her. Then his arms went fiercely round her, pulling her against him so roughly that her body felt jarred, and he was kissing her, his mouth parting hers to receive the urgent thrust of his tongue.

Amanda was trembling under the onslaught, but she was exhilarated, too. That iron guard of his was down, and he was holding her as if he could not get her close enough, his lips searching hers, extracting every last sweet secret. His hand twisted in her chestnut hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her throat above the collar of her cashmere sweater. A sound escaped her, half startled, half excited, as his other hand cupped her breast through the fine wool, his fingers teasing her hardening nipple.

Amanda felt herself sway in his arms, deaf to everything but the clamour in her blood, and slowly he lifted his head, and held her for a moment, steadied against him.

He took her unresisting hand, stroked the soft palm with the tip of his forefinger, then dropped a kiss on to her wrist before walking with her to the door.

She was choked with bewilderment, and then she realised he was only closing the door, and turning the key gently but definitely in the lock. Shutting them in together.

He led her over to the bed, then slowly, almost reverently, he began to free the buttons which closed the front of her sweater.

At once, her hands came up to stop him. No matter how much she had invited this, there was no way she could stand there in broad daylight and let Malory undress her.

She said, stammering a little. ‘I—I can manage.’

The blue eyes studied her quizzically for a moment, then he bent and kissed her swiftly on the mouth before walking round to the other side of the bed. Turning his back on her, he began to remove his own clothing.

Amanda turned the other way, too. It was ridiculous, she knew, considering the way she had thrown herself at him, but she’d never been naked with a man before, and she felt shy.

She tumbled out of her clothes, dropping them on to the floor, and scrambled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The linen sheets felt faintly chilly, and she shivered.

The mattress shifted slightly as he joined her, and she shivered again, lying on her side, staring sightlessly across the room, suddenly, shatteringly aware of his naked, starkly aroused body lying next to hers.

Malory’s hands were warm on her bare shoulders as he turned her inexorably to face him.

He said quietly, ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

She wasn’t sure about anything. The warm tide of feeling which had swept her here into his arms— his bed—was ebbing fast, leaving a kind of sick panic in its wake. But she couldn’t draw back now, because she knew she would never have the courage to offer herself again. She lifted a hand and stroked his dark hair, and drew him down to her, letting the action speak for her.

He kissed her slowly, softly, his mouth exploring hers as if there was all the time in the world, and he intended to use every minute of it. Then he pulled the covers away from her shoulders, making it clear that he was going to look as well as touch. Her body seemed to quiver under his gaze, and she had to clamp her jaws together to stop her teeth from chattering.

He touched her breasts as if they were flowers he was afraid to crush, then bent to adore their proud rosy buds with his lips. She caught her breath at the sharp delight of the sensation, and felt him smile against her skin. His hands stroked the length of her body, finding pulses, nerve-endings, secret reshe had never dreamed existed. She felt dazedly as if she were some deep and private mystery to which he alone had the key.

But she was thankful he did not seem to demand any reciprocal caresses from her.

As Malory’s hand feathered over the curve of her hip, and drifted down to part her thighs, she tensed, and he whispered, ‘It’s all right, darling, just relax.’