Part 10 (2/2)

She waited for what seemed to be a lifetime, already antic.i.p.ating Kyle's sarcastic remark, her tension increasing when he said nothing. Either he didn't believe her and didn't want to say so, or he did believe her and pitied her so much that he was pa.s.sing up on the opportunity to mock her. Neither alternative pleased her.

'Kyle...'

'We'd better get those cuts and bruises seen to,' he interrupted brusquely. 'Can you make it to the bathroom, or would you like a hand?'

How frightening that she should feel so bereft, so forlorn. What had she expected, that he would pick her up tenderly and carry her there?

'I can manage on my own.'

She hated the way he stepped back from her, almost as though he disliked the thought of being in physical contact with her. In another man she might have suspected his withdrawal sprang from a distaste of touching her because of David Hartley, but Kyle wasn't like that. Already he had exhibited his compa.s.sion and understanding. Too weary to a.n.a.lyse his reaction, Heather stumbled towards the bathroom door.

'Heather, let me...'

She rounded on him fiercely. 'I'm all right. I can manage.'

She slammed the door behind her, leaving him on the other side. Her head was swimming and her body felt so weak; an after-effect of the shock and fear she had experienced, she suspected.

She showered quickly, grimacing over the scratches and bruises marring her skin. She was unfortunate in that she bruised easily. Too easily, she thought, dismayed by the purpling patches of swollen skin. No wonder Kyle had doubted her a.s.sertion that David had barely touched her.

He was waiting for her when she opened the door, a grim expression on his face and a tray with a gla.s.s of water and two tablets on it in his hand.

'These are very mild sleeping tablets. My doctor prescribed them for me last year.'

'For you? But...'

'Too many flights across the Atlantic,' he told her brusquely. 'I got too wound up and couldn't wind down.'

There was no point in telling her the rest of it, in describing that sickening sensation of desolation that had undermined his physical strength and had left him feeling as though life was little more than a dreary round of duty and obligation. There had even been a time... He grimaced faintly. There was little point in dwelling on life's ironic and often unkind twists.

He held out the gla.s.s to Heather. 'Here, drink this.'

One part of her wanted to object. The other knew she needed the healing benefit of a sound night's sleep.

She took the water, and one of the tablets, shaking her head in refusal of the second.

'They normally work within half an hour,' Kyle told her. 'Can you make it to your own room? Or...'

'I can make it.'

The compa.s.sion, and with it the bond she had sensed earlier, were gone now and he was once again the Kyle of her childhood, but now there was a subtle difference-not in him but in her. Now he was the man she loved as well.

Acknowledging that love had been a painful, slow progress, a story of denials and rejections that had brought her loneliness and misery. And now that she had faced up to the truth?

She could see no future in her feelings for Kyle; she admitted sleepily. He did not return her love and it was hardly likely that he ever could. Drowsily she turned her head, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the pillow.

She was sound asleep half an hour later, when Kyle walked quietly up to the bed. As he looked down at her, his expression was tortured and full of pain. He almost reached out to touch her, but just in time he controlled the impulse.

Ten minutes later he left the house, driving David's Land Rover, heading to the remote farmhouse.

He didn't stay there long; ten minutes was more than enough time for him to vent his wrath on a man who had committed what he considered to be the most despicable crime any man could commit, bar that of damaging a child. He didn't resort to physical violence; he didn't need to.

Curtly ordering David into the pa.s.senger seat of the Land Rover, he drove back in silence, stopping it at the end of his own drive and getting out.

'It was her own fault, Bennett,' David whined, moving cautiously into the driver's seat as Kyle stood and watched him. 'She as good as asked for it, telling everyone that she had lived with you. Implying that the two of you had been lovers. Everyone heard her.'

And as he drove away David couldn't understand the brief flash of surprised pleasure that had lightened the dark, bitterly angry features of the man standing watching him. What on earth had he said that had pleased him so much?

He hadn't expected Kyle to come seeking him out. He had judged the other man by his own code of behaviour. He would have to make sure that none of what had happened tonight got back to his cronies' ears. He would be a laughing stock if it did.

Kyle didn't wait to watch him drive away, but walked up the drive. It was cold, the sky clear and brilliant with stars. As he drew in a deep lungful of the crisp air he turned towards the house and wondered exactly why Heather had implied that the two of them had once been lovers. Physically she wanted him, he knew that. But that wasn't enough and it never would be enough. Stretching aching muscles, he walked more slowly toward the house.

CHAPTER NINE.

HEATHER woke up with a start. Her mouth was dry, her heart pounding rapidly with fear. She could feel it in the air around the bed, and the shreds of her nightmare still clung to her, bemusing her, even though she realised that there was nothing to fear.

Something moved in the shadows and she screamed involuntarily.

'Heather, what's wrong?'

How had Kyle managed to reach her room so quickly? He must have already been awake.

He looked tired, Heather thought as he snapped on the light, banis.h.i.+ng the vague spectres of her fears.

'A bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you.'

She watched as he pushed unsteady fingers through his already tousled hair.

'You didn't,' he told her shortly. 'I was awake already.' He looked away from her and, for the first time since she had known him, Heather saw something approaching vulnerability and uncertainty shadow his face.

'Heather, what you said about still being a virgin...'

He hesitated slightly as though searching for the right words, and, already shrinking away from the pity she was sure she was going to see in his eyes, Heather fought to keep it at bay, snapping sharply.

'Are you accusing me of lying? What do you want me to do, Kyle? Prove it to you?'

An awful silence fell. Without any cloaking darkness to hide the brilliant colour scorching her skin, Heather knew that Kyle must be fully aware of her embarra.s.sment. Why had she said that? It didn't take the brain of Freud to deduct that there had been more than a touch of wishful thinking, more than just a mere desire to taunt him behind her challenge. She already knew full well that Kyle hadn't been accusing her of lying, or anything like that. He had simply been trying to express his concern for her. He had been trying to play the role of brother, but she had destroyed that carefully erected facade, and with those few impulsive words had laid bare for both of them the reality of the s.e.xual awareness between them.

For one long moment, they looked at one another. Kyle didn't attempt to hide from her how much he wanted her. She felt her heart thud heavily against her breastbone, and her breath quicken with excitement.

'Is that what you want me to do?' he asked her softly at last, and then, when she made no reply, he came closer to the bed, a dark, aroused flush of colour staining the bones of his face.

'Do you know the temptation offered to me, I wonder?' he groaned unsteadily. 'Do you know how often I've dreamed of having you in my arms, your body against mine? You can't even begin to imagine what it does to me to know that there's been no other man. Why, Heather?' he demanded, his voice suddenly velvet rough with male desire. 'Was it because you've been waiting for me? For this?'

She could have stopped him, she ought to have stopped him. She should have told him that he was wrong, that she didn't want him, and that her virginity was a result of chance and nothing else, but she was already in his arms and his mouth was moving on her skin with a hungry urgency that left her no room for thought.

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