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against the hollow of her back, and she stirred against him even though her
capricious body was beginning to yearn for something more.
'I'm finding it extremely difficult being on my best behaviour with you,' he
smiled down at her twistedly, and his voice deepened on a note of passion
which was beginning to find an echo within her.
'Perhaps it's time you took me home,' she managed huskily, drawing a little
away from him as she felt him tense.
'You're not serious.'
'I'm afraid I am,' she smiled a little shakily, not trusting herself .to say more
at that moment.
'Well,' he sighed resignedly, releasing her with the light of mockery back
in his eyes, 'I did say that I would take you home at any time during the
course of the evening, didn't I?'
An impregnable silence seemed to settle between them during the drive back
to her cottage. Was he angry? she wondered. Or couldn't he care less? There
were, she supposed miserably, plenty of women only too willing to k give him
what she had refused.
'I'm not going to invite you in, Dane,' she said, unlocking the door of the
cottage, but his hand reached over her shoulder and pushed the door open
further.
'I'm coming in all the same,' he announced, following her inside and,
taking the keys from the lock, he closed the door behind him.
'This has gone far enough!' Jessica exclaimed, nervous and seeking
refuge in anger as she flicked on the lights in the lounge.
'I agree with you,' Dane said tersely, dropping her keys on to the low table,
and grasping her firmly by the shoul-
ders. 'Dammit, Jessica, you're the most frustrating woman I've ever met!'
The look in his eyes sparked off a danger signal in her mind, but she chose to
ignore it as she shrugged herself free, and marched away from him towards the
kitchen. 'I'll make you a cup of coffee, and then you're going home.'
The coffee was never made. When she switched on the kettle he reached from
behind her to switch it off again and, pivoting to face him, the angry burst of
words died instantly on her lips. She was wedged between Dane and the steel
cupboard, and danger lurked in those narrowed, glittering eyes. She was short,
and he was tall. Too damned tall, she decided as he towered above her
menacingly with his wide shoulders blotting out the light which hung from the
kitchen ceiling, and she knew suddenly that indescribable fear of an animal
trapped with no escape hatch in sight.
His hands were spanning her slim waist, his fingers biting through the silk of
her dress into the flesh below her ribcage and, before she could begin to suspect
what he had in mind, she found herself lifted off the floor until her wide,
startled eyes were on a level with his.
'Put me down at once!' she ordered sharply, her hands clutching instinctively
at his shoulders where the bulging muscles rippled beneath her touch, but the
look in those eyes so close to her own told her that he had no intention of doing
as she had requested.
'Put your arms around my neck and kiss me.'
His words fell like pebbles on the already disturbed surface of her mind, and
her eyes darkened with anger and alarm. She felt like kicking his shins, but she
knew without being told that she would regret such an action.
'I'll do nothing of the kind!' she exclaimed at last in a choked voice, and her
futile efforts to escape merely evoked his mocking laughter.
'You weigh hardly anything at all, Jessica, and I'm quite prepared to stand here
like this until you do as I say.'
And he would too, she realised frantically, loving yet hating the feel of his hard
body against her own at that moment.
'You're detestable, Dane Trafford!' she hissed fiercely.
'And you're adorable when you're angry,' he grinned. 'Kiss me.'
He was immovable on this subject and, putting her arms hesitantly around his
neck as he had instructed, she brushed her lips briefly against his.
'Do you call that a kiss?' he laughed harshly.
'Yes,' she snapped, her face suffused with abominable colour. 'Now let me go at
once!'
'Not until you've kissed me properly,' he instructed in an undaunted manner.
'Put your lips against mine, and this time count to ten before you take them away.'
Jessica was becoming desperate, and if this was the only way she was going to
get rid of him, then she would simply have to indulge him in his foolishness. She
lowered her lids over eyes that sparkled with fury, and pressed her lips against
his.
One .. . two . . . three . . . four .. .! It was not fair, but something was happening
which she had not bargained for. His mouth had opened over hers, and her own
lips had parted, allowing him to invade her mouth with a sensual iritimacy that
sent exciting little tremors cavorting across receptive nerves. She could have
drawn her lips from his at any time, but she didn't, and the kiss went on . . . and
on . . . until every scrap of resistance died within her to leave her pliant and
responsive.
It was Dane who drew back a fraction to murmur against her lips, 'That was
quite something, wasn't it?'
The hint of mockery in his voice should have angered her, but instead her
fingers tightened in his dark hair, and this was enough encouragement for him to
seek her lips again. She had kissed before, but never like this, and never before
had a man's kisses awakened such a tumult of emotions within her.
Dane released her unexpectedly, setting her on her feet with a muttered curse
on his lips. She blinked up into those pale, glittering eyes in a dazed, bewildered
fashion, but before she could come to her senses she found herself draped across
one hard arm, and her head was being forced back by the pressure of his mouth
against her own. His passion, unleashed, was like the eruption of a violent storm
and, caught in the midst of it, she could only cling to him while the devastation
swept over her. Impatient fingers tugged at the zip of her dress, and the catch of
her bra was no obstacle in his path. Somewhere from the drugged recesses of her
mind came the warning to resist, but the sensual pressure of those clever fingers
against her taut breast was igniting delicious little fires in her body which were
spreading and gathering momentum until she knew the sweet agony of desire.
She would despise herself later, but not now; not this minute.
'I want you, Jessica,' Dane groaned against her quivering mouth, and his words
acted like a douche of iced water on her fiery emotions, making her draw away
from him to hold him at arm's length.
Just like that?' she asked, lowering her dark lashes to hide the shame and the
pain that mingled in her eyes.
Just like that,' he confirmed abruptly, and a little callously, she thought.
'I'm sorry, Dane,' she said, escaping from his arms and pushing past him on legs
that felt peculiarly like jelly. 'I'm not in the market for that kind of relationship.'
'I'd make sure you don't regret it.'
'I don't doubt that your experience as a lover would see to that,' she laughed
bitterly, her body still tingling with the expertise of his caresses as she turned to
f
ace him
from a safe distance. Tm still a bit old-fashioned about v such things, I'm afraid. I
don't believe in .sleeping around.'
'I detest that phrase "sleeping around",' he told her with a look of distaste
flashing across his lean face. 'I'm not asking you to sleep around, but merely to
let me make love to you.'
'That's just it, Dane,' she remarked coldly after having won her battle to
regain at least part of her composure. 'Love wouldn't enter into it at all; only
lust, and I would end up feeling disgusted with myself.'
His eyes mirrored mocking disbelief as they played over her small, slim
figure standing so erect in the middle of the neat kitchen. 'How can you be
sure?'
'I know myself, Dane, and it wouldn't work.'
Her hands fumbled awkwardly with the zip of her dress, and he came
towards her, reaching behind her to pull it up deftly. Embarrassment stained
her cheeks pink, but when she would have stepped away from him, his hand
moved with swift precision to clasp a handful of hair at the back of her head,
forcing her to meet the derisive mockery in his eyes.
'What am I going to do about you, Jessica?'
'Strike me off your list of possible conquests, and stick to women like Sylvia
Summers,' she said with her heart beating in her mouth, and a terrible
emptiness settling in her breast.
'Perhaps that's exactly what I shall do,' he announced, wounding her more
than he would ever know, and then his mouth clamped down on hers with a
bruising intensity that left her pale and shaken when he finally released her.
'Goodnight, Jessica.'
CHAPTER SIX
JESSICA arrived home on the Friday afternoon to find Vivien entertaining her
parents, and the invitation had been issued for the three of them to dine with the
O'Briens that evening. Jonathan and Amelia were both enchanted with Vivien,
whose charm and sophistication was undeniable, and when Peter finally arrived
home Jessica barely managed to get a word in edgeways to her father.
As the evening progressed she realised that her parents were no longer in doubt
about her decision to come to Louisville. Her father was enjoying a discussion
with Peter on the latest medical data, and her mother was too busy admiring
Vivien's delightful home.
When they finally retired to Jessica's cottage, both Jonathan and Amelia agreed
that Louisville was not such a bad town after, all, and they went to bed tired but
contented after their long journey that day.
Peter very kindly took Jonathan on a tour of the hospital the following
morning, leaving Jessica alone with her mother, who wanted to know more about
whether her daughter was not working too hard, and whether she was having the
proper meals.
‘ I'm fine, Mother. Don't worry about me,'Jessica laughed reassuringly and, to
set her mother's mind at rest, she told her of the many times she had arrived home
a little late to find that Vivien had left her a cooked meal in the oven.
'She's a wonderful woman,' Amelia admitted with a grateful smile.
'Everyone here has been very kind to me, and I enjoy my work very much.'
It was not until after lunch that afternoon that Jessica had the opportunity to
speak to her father alone. Her mother was resting in the guest room, and when
Jessica had tidied the kitchen she joined her father in the lounge. Jonathan was
full of praise for the new, modern hospital he had visited that morning, and they
discussed his tour in detail.
'I must say, Jessica, that Peter O'Brien has impressed me a great deal,' Jonathan
changed the subject eventually, stretching out his legs before him, and lying back
in his chair with his pipe clenched between his teeth. 'What's his partner like?'
'Dane Trafford?' Jessica hoped that she did not look as startled as she felt at that
moment. 'Oh, he's . .. he's a very good doctor, and an excellent surgeon. He also
happens to be very interested in neuro-surgery.'
'Is that so?' Jonathan's dark eyes lit up with interest. 'Am I going to meet him?'
'I don't imagine so. I
' The look of disappointment
which flashed across her father's face made her change her mind reluctantly.
'Shall I give him a ring and ask him to join us for tea this afternoon?'
'Why not?' her father smiled, sending a cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling,
and filling the room with the aromatic odour of his tobacco.
The telephone was not in its usual place in the lounge. Jessica had left it
plugged in beside her bed, but it was just as well that her father could not see her,
for her fingers trembled as she looked up Dane's number and dialled it. It rang
only briefly at the other end before it was answered, but the voice that came over
the line was definitely not Dane's. It was a feminine, feline purr, and Jessica felt a
cold, sick feeling lodge itself at the pit of her stomach.
'Is that Dr Trafford's home?' she heard herself ask unnecessarily.
'Yes, it is, but Dr Trafford is off duty this weekend, so may I suggest that you
call his partner, Dr O'Brien.'
The line went dead abruptly, cutting across Jessica's murmured 'Thank you',
and her eyes were dark pools of pain as she slowly returned the receiver to its
cradle.
'Will he come?' Jonathan asked eagerly when Jessica • returned to the
lounge.
'I'm afraid not.' She sat down heavily on the arm of the chair which she had
vacated prior to making that call to Dane's home. 'He ... he has another
engagement.'
'Pity,' Jonathan frowned with disappointment, then his dark glance
sharpened. 'You've gone rather pale, Jessica. Is something wrong?'
'Mild indigestion,' she prevaricated with a forced smile. 'I'll switch on the
kettle and make us a pot of tea. Mother should be awake soon.'
'You fool!' she cursed herself silently when she was alone in the kitchen.
'You knew from the start what kind of man Dane Trafford was, and yet you
allowed yourself to --------------------------- '
She jerked her thoughts to an abrupt halt. She had allowed herself to what?
Fall in love with him? Impossible! He was not at all the kind of man she could
fall in love with, and yet. . . why did it hurt so much to think of him with
another woman in his arms?
'It's not hurt you're feeling, Jessica Neal,' she told herself fiercely, 'it's
disgust!'
Disgust! She clung to the word with a desperate urgency, but the pain did not
ease, and neither did she dare allow herself further time to analyse what she
was feeling.
The weekend was over much too soon, and it was perhaps a blessing that
Jessica did not see Dane until late on Monday afternoon. She had called Peter
in to discuss one of her patients with him, and the conversation had inevitably
turned to her parents when Dane walked in, looking immaculate as always in
white pants and matching safari jacket, the colour accentuating his tanned
fitness.
'What a pity you didn't meet Jessica's parents over the weekend, Dane,' Peter
remarked pleasantly, preparing to
leave. 'Jessica's father, Jonathan Neal, is really one of the most interesting
medical men I've spoken to yet, and you would
have found his knowledge on
neuro-surgery most enlightening.'
Dane did not reply, but his mouth tightened and, when the door closed behind
Peter's lean frame, he asked coldly, 'Why didn't you let me know that your
parents were spending the weekend with you?'
Jessica slid off the corner of her desk and, afraid that he would see the
ridiculous trembling of her hands, she thrust them into the pockets of her white
jacket, and crossed the room to stand staring out of the window with unseeing
eyes.
'I did telephone your home Saturday afternoon with an invitation for you to join
us for tea, but I discovered that you were fully occupied.'
'Ah, yes .. . Sylvia.' His voice sounded grim, but not at all apologetic as he
joined her beside the window. 'I suppose she took the call?'
Jessica shrugged with a casualness she was far from experiencing. 'I presume it
was her, unless you had more than one woman spending the weekend with you.'
The atmosphere was heavily charged, then a heavy hand came down on to her
shoulder and she was turned round to face him. 'One word from you, Jessica, and
Sylvia Summers will become part of my past.'
'And how long, I wonder, before you say the same about me to someone else?'
she demanded cynically.
'Dammit, Jessica!' His hand left her shoulder as if she had stung him, and his
narrowed eyes were like twin fires licking her upturned face. 'I've never wanted
another woman as much as I want you.'
'I should feel flattered, I suppose, but I don't,' she heard herself projecting her
voice beyond the tightness in her aching throat. 'If you want the truth, then I feel
only degradation.'
'My God!' His face went strangely white beneath his
tan, and the hands that gripped her shoulders bit into them as if he wanted to
crush the fragile bones beneath her jacket, but it was the cold fury in his eyes
that frightened her most of all as he lashed her with his tongue. 'I'm willing to
bet that degradation had nothing to do with what you felt the other night when I
kissed you. What you felt was plain old-fashioned desire, so don't look down
your pretty little nose at me, Jessica Neal, or I might decide to prove to you here
and now what a damned liar you are!'
Stabs of numbing pain shot into her shoulders and down the length of her
arms, but it was nothing compared to the renewed bout of pain she was