Escape Me Never (12 page)

Hattie slid a hand through his arm. Tin starving,' she told him plaintively.

Lloyd submitted and allowed himself to be led away, mouthing 'I'll talk to you later,' at Cass.

'Oh, dear,' Marcia said. 'The boyfriend?'

'Not really,' Cass said soberly. 'Just—a friend.' But for how much longer, she asked herself. Lloyd had the air of a man with a grievance, and perhaps it was a genuine one, although she'd tried to make the limits of their relationship clear to him.

'Cassie.' Barney's genial version of his usual bellow assaulted her ears, and he came over to her. 'Having a good time? Sal and I were looking for you earlier.'

'She only just got here,' Marcia said blandly. 'Special delivery,' she added as she drifted away again.

'Quite a lady,' Barney said approvingly, watching her retreating figure. 'If this campaign is a success, and we get more work from Grants, then may be I can get Sal a string of pearls like that.'

More people joined them, and the group around them began to expand. Grateful for Barney's wing to shelter under, Cass started to relax, and even, as time passed, to enjoy herself. She ate her way through a huge plateful of delicious food, drank more wine, and danced hilariously to the disco, sometimes in a crowd, sometimes with individual partners. ,

She danced once with Lloyd who was clearly looking for an argument and peeved because the loudness of the music prevented him from starting one. She gently but firmly resisted his attempts to persuade her to accompany him to somewhere quieter, and was relieved to be able to refuse his sulky offer of a lift back to London by saying she'd already agreed to drive back with Barney and Sal. She didn't see him again after that, and guessed, half-guiltily that he'd taken his sense of injury home with him.

The earlier frenetic energy of the party had quietened too. People seemed to have made the contacts they needed, and the coversation and shared laughter was more muted and intimate as time moved into the small hours. Even the disco music had gentled, and couples were in each other's arms, swaying quietly to the new, slower rhythm.

Cass leaned against the wall, watching reflectively. They would be leaving soon, she thought. Sal had an
au pair
, but she was a fond and conscientious mother who never liked the children to be without her for very long. She'd been getting visibly restless for some time, although Barney was good for hours yet, Cass thought affectionately.

With a start, she realised she was no longer alone.

In the shadowy room, Rohan's face was unreadable. Without speaking he drew her on to the dance floor, his hands closing on her waist and pulling her against him.

'Hold me,' he ordered quietly, and obediently, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, moving with him to the slow beat of the music, her blood a sudden millrace in her veins.

He said, 'Are you leaving with Barney, or will you stay?'

Dry-mouthed, she said, 'I—must go.' The brush of his body against hers as they danced was an unbelievable torment. Yet he made no attempt to follow the example of the others around him and kiss her, or even hold her more intimately. She ran her tongue round her lips. 'May—may I see Jodie before I go?'

'Naturally.' He paused. 'Now?'

She nodded. 'Please.'

He turned her towards the doorway, his arm round her waist, anchoring her to his side. People spoke to them as they passed, and he responded without pausing, threading his way through the chattering groups to the stairs, apologising pleasantly for disturbing the throng who'd gone to ground there, leading Cass between them, up to the gallery and beyond.

The nursery suite was quiet and dark. Rohan looked in on the boys first. They were asleep in a tumble of pyjamaed limbs and duvets, and he paused to straighten the covers before taking Cass on to Jodie's room.

Her daughter lay on her side, her face angelic in repose, her thumb drooping between sleeping lips. Cass removed it gently, then touched Jodie's hair in a butterfly caress.

'Good night, sweetheart. See you soon,' she whispered.

Outside, the landing was in darkness, its sole illumination the big square window, and the fierce brilliance of the stars beyond its panes.

Rohan was waiting for her there, his tall figure very still, and almost tense.

She sent to him slowly, aware of a deep inner trembling. His hands clasped her wrists, drawing her towards him. The handsome face was all planes and angles in the half-light, as he stared down at her, his eyes glittering like jewels.

She seemed to have stopped breathing when at last he bent towards her and put his mouth on hers, and her response was instant, almost stricken, her lips parting for him in yearning submission.

She heard him sigh in his throat, then he gathered her full against him, almost lifting her off her feet, so that her small breasts were crushed against the hardness of his chest while the kiss deepened—lengthened endlessly.

There was a hunger in him, a famine which she recognised because she shared it. An appetite that no kiss alone could satisfy, Cass knew as she clung to him, her slim body twisting in frustration at the layers of cloth which separated them from each other. She was silently begging to be taken and she knew it, and later she would probably die of shame remembering it, but now all she could think of was being part of him, absorbed by him—his body possessing hers as his mouth was signalling by its fiercely sensual invasion of her own.

It was physically painful when at last he lifted his head.

He said, 'They're waiting for you downstairs.'

Her nails dug into her palms as she fought to match his calmness—his utter control. 'It—it must be very late.'

'A whole new day,' he said. He took her unresisting hand and carried it to his lips, caressing the soft palm with his lips, making sweet tremors envelop her body. He said huskily, 'Have dinner with me tonight.

She knew, because he'd warned her once, what dimensions of intimacy the invitation covered, and reason—commonsense alone—screamed at her to be true to her first instincts about this man, and about herself, and refuse, as she'd done before. It was madness to yield—madness…

She whispered, 'Yes.'

He nodded. 'Eight, then,' he said almost abruptly. 'I'll send a car for you.'

His hands cupped her face for a long moment, the long fingers stroking her dishevelled hair back from her face, moving softly and sensuously over her small ears, and the sensitive areas just beneath them, soothing the pulse in her throat, as it fluttered like a small wounded bird.

When he let her go, it was with obvious reluctance. Their eyes met.

He said in stark commitment, 'Tonight.'

Cass nodded. She couldn't speak.

Barney and Sal were waiting in the hall, and all the way downstairs, Cass was conscious of Barney's brows drawn together in overt disapproval, aware of Marcia's mischievous wink as she said good night.

Rohan accompanied them out to the car, the conversation general civilities about the success of the party as he and Barney walked together. He turned to Cass last, his smile polite, his handshake conventional. Only Cass knew that his mouth had shaped, 'Tonight' instead of the usual leavetaking.

She sat in the rear seat while Barney and Sal chatted desultorily. She was blind and deaf to anything except that one word 'Tonight' echoing and re-echoing in her head.

When they reached her flat, Barney insisted on coming up with her and waiting while she opened the door.

He said abruptly, 'I hope you're not going to make a fool of yourself, Cassie.'

She tried to speak lightly. 'It seems likely. I'm—due for a little stupidity, don't you think?'

'A little, maybe,' Barney said gloomily. 'But Rohan Grant seems like foolishness on the grand scale to me.' He scowled. 'Why the hell does he have to be such an attractive bastard?' he demanded rhetorically. 'And why can't he stick to women who know the score?'

She smiled sadly. 'Perhaps he thinks I do. After all, that's the way you packaged me and presented me to him.'

'Don't remind me,' Barney patted her on the shoulder with a heavy hand. 'I think I should have left you in your Oxfam rejects.'

She went into the flat, closing the door behind her. She had a very long day to face before— tonight.

It was the longest day she'd ever experienced. Cass couldn't settle to anything, couldn't concentrate. At moments, she wished Jodie was there. At others, she was glad she wasn't. She made herself coffee, and threw it away untouched. She creamed mushrooms on toast for her lunch, and let them burn.

In the afternoon, totally irritated with herself, she went for a walk, glancing into the shop windows as she passed with the eyes of total indifference. Except one—a boutique in a small cul de sac which she'd never even considered before because it was too expensive, and because the styles so sparingly displayed in its window, had no relevance to the life she had chosen.

Now she paused, staring at the dress on display, and telling herself how many kinds of a fool she was even to contemplate it.

Fifteen minutes later, walking home with the carrier bag, she knew she was totally insane.

It had fitted her perfectly, just as she'd known it would. The colour was deep jade green, the material the finest wool jersey, the style sleek and wrap-round, fastened with a sash. Sleeves and skirt alike were long and close-fitting, and the crossover neckline plunged deeply and dramatically almost to her waist, hinting with deliberate provocation at the soft roundness of her barely concealed breasts.

A different kind of camouflage this time, she thought, and designed to conceal her fears and inadequacies in exactly the same way as her usual drab choice of clothing had done.

God only knew whether it would succeed, she thought, panic rising sickly in her throat. Yet, she wanted him so much. Wouldn't that need be sufficient to drown the past forever?

She still wasn't sure when she went through the ritual of bathing, of scenting her body, and applying a light dusting of make up to accentuate her lips and eyes. Slowly and carefully, she applied nail enamel in a glowing pink to her finger and toenails. It was a long time since she'd taken so much trouble. The years seemed to roll back, and she was a young girl again—Cassie, dressing for a date with all her future in front of her like an unopened book.

She shivered. Only now that book had chapters. Chapters that would stay closed forever from tonight, she prayed feverishly.

When the buzzer sounded, she took one last look and reached for her wrap.

A uniformed chauffeur was waiting at the door. 'Mrs Linton?' he inquired respectfully. 'Good evening, madam. The car is waiting.'

She said quietly, 'Thank you,' and followed him down to the street.

This time it was a limousine she registered with amazement. It surrounded her in luxury, drawing her down into a comfort she had never dreamed of. She heard the man say it was chilly, and offer her a rug, which she declined.

She wondered where she was being driven, but the chauffeur hadn't volunteered the information, and she was not prepared to ask. Presumably, she would be supposed to know already, she told herself drily. She guessed she would be taken to a restaurant somewhere in the West End, with a night club to follow. Her imagination refused to carry her beyond that point.