CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

How could he? How could he? After what they shared. It took a while but the realisation slowly began to dawn on her and Caroline saw just how much she had taken for granted. David never actually said he loved her. Her heart listened but heard only what it wanted to hear. Never mind the kisses they shared, the intimate embraces, the ardent smiles. They were simply mad impulses on his part, brotherly gestures that had got out of hand, moments out of time. They didn't mean a thing. Her overactive imagination had given them a significance all out of proportion to what they really were. What a fool, what a stupid, blind fool she was!

When David asked her to stay, she thought it was because he wanted her for himself. Now she realised it was because he needed her to take care of her family, leaving him free to pursue Sharon.

Deep racking shudders ran over her body as she lay face down in a broken heap on her bed, clenching the spread with stricken fists. Humiliation swamped her. How had she let this happen? She, who always wanted to be self-sufficient, who knew that love was not to be trusted, who knew if one said hello the time would have to come to say goodbye, had rushed headlong into that trap again. Oh, how brilliant! Why didn't she just hang a sign around her neck that said, 'Hurt this girl. She's stupid enough to fall for a man.'

It wasn't as if she was some unsuspecting, naive innocent who didn't know, the first thing about it. First Philip, now David. Tears welled up in her eyes. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It always did. She had ignored her instincts and let herself trust a man so there was no excuse this time. She had no one but herself to blame.

In spite of herself, she kept reliving those moments with him over and over, torturing herself with the thought that never again would he hold her in his strong yet gentle arms, never again would he kiss or caress her, never again arouse in her that trembling awareness and passion that had been so new and so irresistibly fascinating.

Giving in to self-pity and rage and disgust, she silently sobbed out all her pain. When she finally fell into a fitful doze, it was only to dream distressfully of Sharon and David in each other's arms.

She woke later in the afternoon and knew there was no hope for anything any more. Despair haunted her. She was alone, totally, irrevocably alone. Pain and desolation wrung her heart as she automatically bathed her face and braided her hair and mechanically changed her creased blouse. Like a puppet with no will of her own, her feet carried her down the stairs and out of the house toward the cliffs.

A gentle wind was blowing through the bracken and the sun was pressing down on her shoulders in a shimmering haze of warmth. Always before, she could find a healing peace in the sound of the waves hurling themselves against the rocks below and in the way the sun-sprinkled water rushed forward and back with monotonous regularity. Her instincts had her looking for surcease but it was not to be found here today. She didn't see the rugged beauty of the sunwarmed cliffs all about her. Her eyes were blind to the bobbing wildflowers tumbling in the grass. She didn't hear the raucous screech of the gulls overhead. She didn't notice the play of sunlight and shadow as the fleecy clouds drifted across the afternoon sky. All she could see was Sharon wrapped in David's strong arms, her soft body pressed into the hardness of his.

'Caroline! Caroline!'

She heard her name with a curious sense of detachment and looked up to see David rushing across the headland toward her, his sandy hair flying wildly about his head.

'No!' The word was torn from her throat and without thinking, she whirled and began to run. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to hear his seductive voice again, look into his handsome face and know he could never be hers. The wind loosened tendrils of hair from her braid and ran clammy fingers down her spine. The cliff rose sharply in a rough and ill-defined and sometimes impassable footpath .but she scrambled toward it anyway before suddenly being hit from behind and sent sprawling face down in a heavy heap on to the ground.

David had thrown his arms around her waist and tackled her.

'God in heaven!' he breathed roughly, falling on top of her. 'Are you trying to kill yourself? There's a twenty-foot drop on the other side of this cliff. Why did you keep on running?'

'Leave me alone!' she gasped into the dirt.

'Why? What have I done to make you run away from me?' He shifted his weight and forcibly turned her flat on her back, looking into her stricken eyes.

She closed them tightly and squirmed, trying to escape his hold but he held her fast, throwing one long leg across both of hers. He began to brush the dirt from her face but had to grab at her hands and hold them above her head on the ground when she instinctively started to claw at him. Straining against his hold, she continued to writhe and jerk beneath him, kicking in an effort to get away but the entire length of his warm heavy body held her down. No matter which way she moved, she couldn't shake off his touch.

He held her easily for long minutes fully conscious of the way her softly rounded curves were ineffectually thrusting against his solid immovable weight. He didn't try to stop her. Almost with complacence he kept still, letting her body rub up against his.

The warmth of his breath was fanning her face, stirring her, making her heart race and she redoubled her efforts to get away from him. An innate sensuality oozed from him and she was dangerously susceptible to it even now, even after everything that happened. She had to get away. She didn't want to be so near to him, to be tantalised by this sheer male magnetism that could never be hers. He was engaged to Sharon now and this was insanity. Her slender body arched in one last desperate attempt to throw him off.

'If you're doing this for my benefit,' his mouth curved in a sudden wicked grin, 'move your hips a little more to the left.'

She stopped instantly, a strangling gasp catching in her throat, a furious blush of mortification flooding her face when she realised just how provocative the movements were.

He knew he embarrassed her but he kept looking into her eyes steadily, without moving, before his breath was finally expelled in a harsh sigh. 'All right, Caro. What's this all about?' He let her hands go but didn't lever himself off her. 'You looked like death this morning when Sharon showed you her ring. Then you ran up to your room and locked yourself in. It couldn't have been that big a surprise to you, could it?'

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away, trying to swallow back the bitterness rising in her throat. How dare he rub it in like that? 'No,' she said raggedly, her mouth twisting with self derision, 'it was no surprise. Deep down I expected it all along.'

'Then what's this all about?'

Rage and anger boiled in her and spilled over. He couldn't be that insensitive. 'Nothing!' she grated.

'Don't tell me, "nothing"!' he shouted back. 'It was enough to make you want to kill yourself. If I hadn't stopped you, you'd have thrown yourself off this cliff.'

Her head spun back to him and her eyes were huge and green and distended with something close to hatred. 'I would not!' she cried. 'You accused me of being suicidal once before. It wasn't true then. It isn't true now.'

'Then why are you always walking so bloody close to the edge?' The anger grating his voice matched the passionate fury in his eyes. 'Every time I see you walking out here I wonder if this'll be the time you "accidentally" lose your footing. I can't keep my mind on my work any more. You're making me a nervous wreck. The cattle—the crops— the hens—they're all suffering because of you. You're driving me crazy!'

Her eyes widened even more as disbelief ran through her. She became very still. 'Even if that was true,' she whispered, 'what's it to you, anyway?'

'What's it to me?' He looked astounded. 'Caroline! Don't you know?' It was a tortured question and he closed his eyes on a spasm of pain, suddenly losing control of emotions that had been bottled up too long. His mouth came down and ground against the parted softness of hers in a hot, hungry, punishing kiss that was unlike anything she ever expected from him. The hard probe of his tongue in her mouth suddenly made her heart leap, firing all her senses with a flamelike brilliance. His hands dug into her shoulders, her breasts, her waist, her hips, moulding her to his length as the fire between them began to rage out of control.

She spread her fingers against the bulging muscles of his shoulders, trying to wedge a space so she could breathe but the hardness of his chest was welded to hers and all she could feel was his hard masculinity crushing all the fight out of her. She became boneless and yielding and pliant beneath him. In spite of Sharon, this was what she wanted. Why should she fight it any more?'

She began to kiss him back with increasing passion, loving the heat and strength of his body on hers. Without thinking, her arms curled around him and dug into the shining thickness of his hair.

Sensing her complete surrender, the quality of his kiss changed, became gentle and seeking and drugging with a subtle mastery that wasn't there before. 'Oh, Caro, let me‑'

' What's going on here?' The shocked sound of Grandy's voice intruded like a blast of icy wind.

David grew rigid, lifting his head and sucking in a long ragged breath before expelling it harshly in defeat. Rolling to his feet without a word, he extended a hand to help Caroline up.

Her face was brick red, her lips swollen, her hair wildly disordered. 'We fell,' she whispered shakily, self-consciously brushing herself down and straightening her shirt where it had come undone from the waistband of her jeans.

David squared his jaw and with a forceful lift of his head looked Grandy right in the eye. 'I tackled her,' he said dispassionately. 'I thought she was going to throw herself off the cliff.'

Dumbfounded, Grandy's mouth fell open. 'Throw herself—I don't believe it! She's been walking these cliffs since she was five years old. Why would she suddenly take it in her head to throw herself off them?'

'I don't know. That's what I was trying to find out.'

Grandy's eyes narrowed shrewdly. Studying this tall, still, giant of a man, he noted the white lines of strain at the sides of his mouth and the smouldering quality of his bright blue eyes. 'It looked to me like you were trying to find out something altogether different.'

Dull red colour ran up David's neck but he didn't say anything.

Grandy continued to look at him then dragged a distracted hand through his hair, painfully aware of the palpable constraint between these two. 'Steven came running to me and said his dad was chasing Caroline and maybe something was wrong. That's why I'm here.'

'Nothing was wrong,' Caroline said tightly before glancing angrily at David. She had herself in control again now. The insanity of the moment had passed. 'Mr Chivalry, here, just jumped to the wrong conclusion, that's all.'

'Why you ‑' David flared.

But Grandy interrupted him. 'That's enough, both of you.' He looked from one to the other and almost smiled at the way they didn't see him at all. They were intent only on glaring at each other. 'One lunatic in the house at a time is all I can stand. Sharon's enough to drive me up a wall with that engagement ring of hers. I don't need you two quarrelling as well. Settle your differences and then come home.' He turned and began to make his way back to smoother ground when he met Steven and Tim' running to him with the dog nipping at their heels.

'Down, Ruff,' he shouted over the excited barks. 'It's nothing to worry about boys. Nothing's wrong. It wasn't what you thought you saw. Come along.' He whistled for the dog and put an arm out to shepherd the boys home.

Steven evaded his outstretched hand and looked at his father and then at Caroline with big solemn eyes.

'It's all right, Steve,' David said evenly. 'Go with Grandy. Caroline and I will be there shortly.' He watched him turn and run to catch up to the others then he looked at Caroline and let out a long slow breath. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I was stupid.'

'No. The stupidity isn't yours, David. It's mine. All mine.' She hugged her arms around herself and shivered, swallowing ,back a choking feeling. Ever since he'd appeared on their doorstep, she'd been throwing herself at him, weaving her dreams around him, making him the centre of her existence. How could she blame him for taking what she offered? Sick despair overwhelmed her.

She started to turn away but he reached out and put a hand on her wrist to detain her. 'Don't go,' he said bleakly. 'Not until we've talked. I've hurt you and I never wanted that to happen.' His deeply blue eyes were intent with anguish.

She looked at him and never felt so utterly miserable in all her life. She couldn't have his love. She wouldn't tolerate his pity. Jerking her hand away, she moved past him and threw a look back over her shoulder. 'I'm sure I'll get over it.'

David sighed in defeat and without another word watched her pick her way back down the cliff path until she became a moving blur on the horizon.

Dinner that evening was a disaster. Grandy scowled at the roast Caroline had burnt and muttered darkly when he passed the bowl of lumpy mashed potatoes to Sharon. He had to clear his throat several times to get her attention, she was so engrossed in her left hand with the new engagement ring on it. Exasperation was written all over his face when he watched Caroline and David push their food around their plates in silence, not even making a pretence of eating. When Tim and Rob began to squabble over whose turn it was to gather eggs the next day, Grandy slammed his hands on the table and bellowed at all of them.

'I want all your differences settled here and now. Or I'll take each one of you out behind the barn and give you a thrashing you'll not soon forget.'

David's eyes lifted slowly to look at him with disconcerting directness.

'That means you as well, David,' he sputtered. 'As long as you're living here, you'll be treated as one of my grandsons— answerable to me.'

He sounded close to losing his temper and all at once Caroline snapped out of her apathy, becoming alarmed at the sickly grey colour running into his face. He looked ready to have another stroke and she, more than anybody, knew how necessary it was for him not to have any stress or worry. 'All right, Grandy. Don't get upset. Tim, Rob, no more taking turns. You'll both gather the eggs together from now on.' Helping Grandy up from his chair, she murmured soothingly, leading him into the sitting room. 'I'll bring you a nice cup of tea. Just sit here and relax.'

He suffered her ministrations a minute more then roughly pulled his arm away and settled down in his chair by himself. 'Stop fussing,' he growled! 'I'm not an old woman who needs to be mollycoddled. Get back in that kitchen and settle things between you and David. I don't want a repeat of tonight's fiasco ever again.'

'I'm sorry about that,' she said, her lips quivering. 'But there's nothing to settle.' Her eyes met his squarely and suddenly brimmed with stubborn green sparks. 'I might as well tell you now. I'm leaving, Grandy. Just as soon as Daddy and Morwenna get back, I'm going to Penzance to look for a job.'

His mouth twisted in derision. 'Well, well, well. Isn't that just great?' A sneer ran over his face. 'I'll tell you the same thing I told David: running away isn't going to solve a thing. You both ought to have your heads examined.'

Her jaw started to drop in confusion. 'You told David ‑?'

'You think you're the only one to come up with the bright idea of running away instead of talking things out? But at least he's not high-tailing it as far as Penzance,' he said scathingly. 'While you were burning the roast, he told me to start looking for someone else to help me with the farmwork. Tomorrow he's moving back to Morwenna's.'

Her breath was drawn in harshly but she couldn't say a word. He didn't have to leave because of her. Then she thought maybe it was just a coincidence. Now that he and Sharon were engaged, it wouldn't look right for him to be staying here under the same roof. That's probably all it was: a matter of propriety.

Grandy's voice was rich with disgust, breaking into her thoughts. 'In my day there wasn't all this pussyfooting around. When I met your grandmother, I fell head over heels in love with her and I told her so. What's wrong with you two?'

'Oh, Grandy, things aren't so simple these days ‑'

'Don't hand me that. Love is love no matter what generation it's in.'

She was quiet for a moment then she gave a little sigh. 'I don't know anything about love. Besides, there's Sharon ‑'

'That scatterbrain! But at least she's honest with her emotions. She doesn't try to put on a brave front and pretend everything's all right when everything's upside down. The way you and David were at supper was enough to give a cast iron stomach indigestion. Now go on, get out there and settle things.'

Caroline compressed her lips and did as she was told but the only one in the kitchen was Steven, silently clearing the table. There was no reproach in his eyes when he looked up and saw her. He simply went on with what he was doing and then he helped her dry the dishes and put them away. She didn't ask him where his father was. She knew he was most likely off somewhere with Sharon and she wasn't that much of a masochist that she had to hear him say it. They worked together in silence and when they were done, Steven gave her a solemn smile and left the room without a word.

Later she realised it was the silence that was beginning to grate on her nerves. It wasn't soothing. It was full of a seething tension. The clocks had crept past midnight long ago and she still wasn't able to sleep. Pacing her floor in her room, restless and miserable, her heart thudding, she was full of futile yearnings she couldn't master. David was out of reach, so why didn't she just accept it and put him out of her mind? But no, all she could think of was how only a wall separated them. He was lying there on the other side of it in his own narrow bed, so near yet so far. She wondered if he was asleep or if he, too, was restless and strung up. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured his handsome craggy face. Everything about him from the clean male smell of him to the glorious feel of his mouth on hers to the velvety sound of his voice returned to assault her senses. He was an obsession she had to overcome. He wasn't hers to love.

Her restless pacing carried her to the shadowy hallway, heading for the bathroom, intending to splash cold water in her face to rid herself of this fever in her blood. But halfway down the hall, she stopped hearing the sound of muffled sobbing coming from behind Tim's door. Another nightmare? Why not? There was enough tension in this house to trigger off anything. But she thought Tim was over them now since Steven had come to share his room.

Pushing open his door, she peered through the gloom and saw Tim. sound asleep in his bed. Quickly turning to the other bed; she saw Steven on his side, his blanket bunched around his face.

'Steve,' she said softly, 'what's wrong?'

He didn't answer her.

'Please tell me.' She sat on the edge of his bed and gently rubbed his shoulder.

He shuddered helplessly for a minute then launched himself into her arms, sobbing incoherently into her neck.

'Oh darling, it's all right. I'm here,' she soothed over and over, rocking him back and forth.

After a while he hiccupped back his sobs and wiped his eyes. 'Did I wake up Tim?'

'No,' she said quietly. 'But we might. Come with me.'

Leading him to her room, she settled him in her bed and sat on the edge of it beside him, smiling a baffled smile into his solemn, tear-wet eyes, waiting. If it took all night, she'd find out what was troubling him.

He dragged his eyes away from her and looked around the small uncluttered room without any expression. There were unadorned white walls and a polished wood floor that was bare except for a small round white rug. Ruffled white curtains moved at the open window in the gentle night-time breeze. There was a low dresser with an oblong mirror against one wall and this narrow bed with its delicately embroidered white candlewick spread against the other. It was nothing like any of the other bedrooms with their colourful decor. The boys had pop art posters covering their walls and Sharon's room was plastered with pictures of movie stars. Caroline's room was a haven of austere simplicity.

Steven looked at her again and his eyes filled with easy tears. 'My dad says we can't live here with you any more.'

Somehow she wasn't surprised. 'Oh, Steve.' Her heart went out to him. 'It's just for a little while,' she soothed. 'When your dad gets married, if he doesn't come back here to live, he'll at least bring you round for visits. You know that, don't you? You'll be able to see us all the time.'

If he heard her, he gave no indication of it. He burrowed his face into her chest desperately.

'Don't upset yourself for nothing, darling. I'll always love you. You don't have to worry about that ever changing. No matter where you go or what you do, you'll always be special to me.'

He merely clung tighter, his tears dampening the front of her nightgown, and Caroline felt more and more helpless. All she could do was hold him tightly and make soothing noises and tell him over and over how much she loved him. After a while she felt him relax against her and she knew somehow he had fallen asleep in her arms.

Looking down into his blotchy face, she had to wonder what kind of mother Sharon was going to make for him. When she and David had children of their own, would she go out of her way to include him and not make him feel he was an outsider? A pang struck at her and she smoothed his dark hair away from his eyes. 'Dear little boy,' she whispered fiercely, 'no one will ever slight you. Not as long as you have me for an aunt!'

A soft footfall sounded in the hall and Caroline gently lowered him back on her pillow and covered him and quietly tiptoed away. Just as she pulled open her door, she saw David standing there, his hand poised ready to knock. 'Oh!' she gasped.

'Sorry. I'm looking for Steven. He's not in his bed.'

'He's here with me,' she whispered, pulling the door open further and standing out of the way so he could see into the room.

Looking past her to his sleeping son, he breathed deeply then looked down into her reddening face as she tried to drag her eyes away from him.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and the width of his naked chest made her weak. Some men had hairy chests, she knew from reading about the different heroes in the books she borrowed from. the library, but David's skin was smooth and tanned and rippling with wide bunching muscles. For one wild moment she had the insane urge to press herself against him to savour the feel of that powerful body against hers. She kept looking at him, drawn to the rugged symmetry of his chest and arms, the fluid graceful beauty of his body. She had touched him once before, delighting in the feel of his skin against hers. She wanted to touch him again. Oh, how she wanted . . .

'Steven was having a bad time,' she said quickly, nervously rushing into speech, stepping into the hall and pulling the door behind her with shaking hands. 'Er—he's afraid he won't see any of us again once you leave.' Her eyes darted everywhere but at him.

'I see.' He expelled a harsh breath. 'I'm sorry he bothered you.'

'He didn't. I was awake anyway.' The minute she said that she could have bitten out her tongue. He probably knew he was the cause of her sleeplessness.

'Caroline ‑'

'No! Don't say anything!' She turned away but he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back against him. She could feel the warmth of his breath stirring her hair and closed her eyes in despair. How could she want him like this when he belonged to her sister?

'I don't want to leave tomorrow with things the way they are between us. I have to talk to you.'

'We have nothing to say ‑' she began but all her breath suddenly left her in a rush when David bent his head and let his lips nuzzle the side of her neck.

Every other thought in her mind fled. Her bones melted. Right or wrong meant nothing now. She was only aware of a blissful heady sensation where nothing else mattered but that she stay here close and safe in his arms. His hands circled her slender waist and slid up her ribcage to cup her breasts, feeling them straining against the soft material of her nightgown, swelling, hardening in his palms. Her breath became panting and her head swam dizzily when he turned her in his arms to face him, his mouth finding hers in a warm and gentle and devastatingly sensual caress. Raining kisses over her eyes, nose, cheeks, ears and neck, he claimed her lips again with hungry possession.

Her heart was pounding, her hands curling into the warm bare skin of his chest where she could feel his heart hammering against them.

'What's going on here?'' Once again, the shock in Grandy's indrawn whisper ripped them apart.

It was three o'clock in the morning and they were standing in the darkened hallway outside her door in each other's arms, she in a dishevelled nightgown and unbuttoned robe, he barefoot, wearing only jeans. No one could blame Grandy for jumping to the obvious conclusion.

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