Dance-of-the-Snake-Yvonne-Whittal Page 17

  you.'

  'What?' Dane exploded, his eyes widening, then narrowing as comprehension

  dawned.

  'Chief Cedric obviously considers that it's time you bought yourself a wife,'

  Peter pressed home the nature of this gift with a casualness which only barely

  concealed his amusement, and, for the first time since knowing Dane, Jessica

  saw him at a loss for words.

  Their eyes met, and she realised, too late, that Dane did not need to be psychic

  to know where this last bit of information came from, and she looked away un-

  comfortably to where the truck driver had seated himself on the step of the cab.

  Unconcerned by their varied reactions, he was intent upon rolling himself a

  cigarette. He was carrying out the instructions of his revered Chief, and that was

  all that mattered to him.

  'Shall we ask the driver to deliver the cattle to your home?' Peter queried

  calmly, breaking the strained, unnatural silence, but Dane rounded on him in

  something close to fury.

  'You know damn well that I can't have these—these animals roaming about my

  garden!'

  Visualising these skinny, sweating animals roaming through Dane's

  ornamental garden was too much for Jessica and, unable to control herself she

  burst out laughing.

  'You could always send them along to your lady friend's parents in Pretoria,'

  she suggested daringly, trying to control herself, but finding it difficult when

  Peter and Emily Hansen were both trying to smother their laughter behind their

  hands.

  'Dammit!' Dane exploded furiously, his eyes like blue slivers of ice slicing

  through Jessica. 'I don't want a wife, and when I do I won't need to buy her with

  cattle.'

  'Well, you'll have to come to some decision about what you want done with

  them,' Peter reminded him as soon as he was able to subdue his laughter. 'It

  doesn't take an expert to come to the conclusion that these animals can't stay on

  that truck much longer.'

  'Quite frankly, I don't care a fig in hell what happens to them!'

  'You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Dane,' Jessica mocked him

  reprovingly, 'and you couldn't insult the Chief by not accepting his gift.'

  Dane rounded on her with a look in his eyes that was instantly sobering. 'If

  you're so concerned, then why don't you do something about them.'

  'It's the man who pays lobola for the woman of his choice, remember, and not

  the other way round,' she reminded him, smotheripg yet another bout of laughter.

  'I have a suggestion,' Peter intervened, drawing Dane's ferocious attention

  away from Jessica. 'The driver could offload the cattle on the common at the

  show grounds, then I would ask Bernard to take them out to Mountain View for a

  while until you've decided what to do with them.'

  'That's a very good suggestion,' Jessica giggled. 'But I can just imagine these

  miserable-looking animals parading about among Bernard's stud cattle.'

  Peter rolled his eyes in mock horror, but his expression sobered suddenly as he

  faced Dane. 'I'll do my best to see to it that they're looked after for you.'

  Dane thrust his clenched fists into the pockets of his pants and nodded abruptly.

  'I'd appreciate that.'

  'Sister Hansen,' Peter turned to the woman beside him, 'would you explain to

  this man in his own language how to get to the common while I get in touch with

  Bernard?'

  'Certainly, Doctor,' Emily Hansen smiled, and marching across to where the

  driver sat smoking, she directed

  him towards the common at the show grounds with Dane looking on *o

  confirm that he was in agreement with what j was to be done with the cattle.

  'Come along, Jessica,' Peter gestured her inside and out of the hot sun.

  'When I've spoken to Bernard we'll get on with that medical of yours.'

  While Peter used the telephone on Sister Hansen's desk, Jessica waited in

  his consulting-room. Five minutes passed, and still she waited. She decided

  eventually that Peter must be having difficulty in persuading Bernard to

  give Dane's cattle grazing, and she stifled a giggle. Ten minutes passed, and

  she was becoming restless when the door behind her opened and closed, and

  she swung round to face the man who had entered, but the smile on her lips

  froze when she found herself confronting Dane.

  'What are you doing here?' she asked in a choked voice, her eyes on the

  hand that dipped into his pocket with something that looked suspiciously

  like a key, but she had to be mistaken, she told herself.

  Dane walked round to the other side of the desk to scrutinise the forms

  lying on the blotter before he said casually, 'Peter received an urgent call

  from the hospital, and he asked me if I would do your medical for your

  pilot's licence.'

  'He did what?' she demanded in a voice that squeaked with agitation, and

  she went hot and cold inside when Dane's icy gaze met hers.

  'Take off your clothes.'

  She stared at him in something close to horror. 'I beg your pardon?'

  'I said take off your clothes.'

  'You must be mad!' she gasped, her eyes dark and stormy, and her heart

  pounding out a frightened tattoo against her ribs. 'There's no necessity for

  me to do that!'

  'When I examine someone I make a thorough job of it,' Dane replied

  coldly, the line of his jaw as hard and

  unrelenting as the wall behind him. Take off your clothes.'

  Panic rose within her to mingle with her anger. 'I'm damned if I will!'

  There was a frightening little silence as their glances clashed, and the look in

  those cold grey eyes sent a shiver of apprehension through her long before he

  stepped round the desk and advanced towards her purposefully.

  'Are you going to take them off yourself, or do I have to take them off for

  you?' His smile was the smile of the devil himself. 'It wouldn't be the first time

  I've undressed you, would it?'

  She backed away from him towards the door with jerky movements, her

  hands against her flaming cheeks. 'If you so much as touch me I'll scream,' she

  hissed through her teeth.

  'Scream all you want,' he drawled lazily, but his smile was cold now, and

  infinitely dangerous. 'Sister Hansen has gone off to lunch, and that door is

  locked, by the way.'

  Her hands fell limply to her sides, and the colour drained from her cheeks to

  leave her deathly pale. 'You fiend!'

  . '

  'Don't be tedious, Jessica,' he sighed harshly. 'Take off your clothes, and let's

  get on with the examination.'

  She had never been afraid of Dane before, but she was afraid now, and the

  saliva dried up in her mouth when his cold eyes travelled over her with

  systematic slowness, stripping her mentally down to her skin until she actually

  felt as if she were standing naked before him. The blood surged painfully back

  into her cheeks, and she shrank from him inwardly even as she suspected the

  reason for his behaviour.

  'All right, Dane, you've had your fun,' she managed huskily, passing the tip of

  her tongue over her dry lips, and totally unaware of the provocativeness of her

  action.

  'It was unforgivable of me to laugh at your discomfort because the Chief has<
br />
  this silly notion that you need a wife, and I admit that I told Peter about it. That

  was wrong of me, and now you're getting back at me in this way, but I think it's

  time we call it quits, don't you?'

  'It seems as though you actually want me to undress you,' he remarked coldly,

  ignoring the plea in her voice, but, when he advanced towards her, her hand

  rose from her side of its own volition to strike him a stinging blow across his

  lean, hard cheek.

  Horrified by her own actions, she stared up into eyes which had become

  narrowed to angry slits. She tried to speak, but no sound seemed to pass her

  lips. She had done something totally unforgivable, but, heaven knew, she had

  not meant to. She had been driven to it by fear, but she doubted whether Dane

  would understand this in his present mood.

  'I swore that I'd never touch you again, but I'm damned if I'll let you get away

  with that,' he ground out the words, then punishing fingers gripped her wrists

  and she was jerked up against him.

  Her arms were twisted behind her back until they ached with the pressure he

  put on them, and her breasts hurt against the hardness of his chest, but this was

  nothing compared to the brutal savagery of his kiss. Her lips were crushed

  against her teeth until she tasted the saltiness of her own blood in her mouth,

  and her head was forced back to such an extent that she feared her neck would

  snap. Her cry of agony was no more than a whimpering sound deep down in her

  throat, but it seemed to bring Dane to his senses, and he released her so abruptly

  that she staggered back against the instrument cabinet in a dazed fashion.

  'You may go,' he said in a clipped voice, unlocking the door and opening it

  wide with surprisingly controlled movements which she envied while she stood

  there shaking

  like a leaf with her breath coming jerkily over parted, swollen lips. ‘As you said,

  we're quits.'

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but fortunately he did not see them. He was standing

  with his back turned towards her, staring out of the window with his clenched

  fists resting on the windowsill, and she did not wait for a second invitation to

  escape.

  In the privacy of her bathroom at the cottage, she examined her lips in the

  mirror above the basin. They looked bruised, and slightly swollen, and on the

  inside of her top lip she could see distinctly where her teeth had pierced the flesh.

  It would heal within a day or two, but the bruises on her wrists would take a little

  longer.

  It was strange, she thought, brushing away the tears which threatened to

  overflow once more. She had credited Dane with a sense of humour, and she had

  seen flashes of it during the past months, but for some reason it must have

  deserted him entirely on this occasion.

  'Damn!' she muttered to herself, holding a cold, damp cloth to her lips. 'He

  didn't have to behave in such a beastly manner!'

  She sat down heavily on the edge of the bath and tried to view the entire

  episode sensibly. Dane did not take kindly to being laughed at, and she could

  almost understand his desire to vent his anger on her. Perhaps, if she had taken

  his retaliation, nothing untoward would have happened, but she had allowed

  herself to become frightened, and she had reacted instinctively by striking him.

  That had been her second and final mistake, and when she considered it in that

  light she supposed that she had got off lightly. Dane was not the kind of man who

  would tolerate that sort of treatment from a woman, and even though her

  impulsive action had been motivated by fear, it was not something he would take

  without a murmur.

  Jessica sighed and flung the cloth into the basin. She owed Dane an apology,

  and it was not going to be easy.

  'Jessica . . Peter entered her consulting-room late that afternoon, waving a

  form at her. 'About this medical of yours ...'

  'Why in heaven's name did you ask Dane to do it?' she demanded before he

  could continue.

  'I never did anything of the kind,' Peter denied at once. 'I asked him to tell you

  that I was called away to the hospital, and that I'd do your medical later this

  afternoon.'

  'I see,' she murmured, her annoyance evaporating swiftly.

  'He played a trick on you, did he?' Peter questioned, his blue eyes dancing

  with mischief, and Jessica nodded slowly.

  'I don't think he enjoyed being laughed at, and he tried to get his own back on

  me.'

  'Did he succeed?'

  Without actually realising what she was doing, she ran a tentative finger

  across her lips and smiled ruefully. 'Have you ever known him to fail?'

  When Peter left her room ten minutes later, leaving the completed form on

  her desk, she scraped together her flagging courage and went along to Dane's

  rooms. He was shrugging himself into his jacket when she entered, and it was

  only when he turned that he saw her standing just inside the door.

  His eyebrows rose sharply. 'Was there something you wanted?'

  'I owe you an apology, Dane,' she said quickly before she lost her nerve, and

  there was a flicker of surprise in the eyes appraising her so coolly.

  'Are you apologising for not undressing -when I asked you to?'

  Her anger flared at his mockery. 'You know very well that I'm referring to the

  fact that I struck you.'

  'Don't be silly, Jessica,' he countered abruptly. 'You know damn well you

  enjoyed it.'

  Something tightened in her chest. 'Did you enjoy the punishment you dished

  out?'

  'At the time, yes.' His eyes flicked over her small, slender frame, and lingered

  finally on her bruised lips. 'You deserved it, but right now you deserve something

  better.'

  Before she had time to realise his intentions, he had closed the door and she was

  a prisoner in his arms. Resistance was a fleeting thought that fluttered and died

  the moment his lips met hers, and this time there was no brutality in his kiss. His

  lips teased and caressed, awakening a throbbing response within her, but when

  his hand clasped her breast through the silk of her blouse, she came to her senses

  and struggled against him.

  'No ... don't. . .' she managed, her breath coming fast over her parted lips, and

  she was released at once.

  Dane's expression hardened. 'What are you afraid of this time, Jessica?

  Yourself?'

  He had picked up his bag and was striding from the room before she could

  think of anything to say, and what could she have said, she wondered afterwards.

  Contrary to what she had imagined, Dane had known of the fear he had instilled

  in her earlier that day, but she dared not let him suspect to what extent she feared

  her own emotions— the humiliation would be too much to bear.

  Two weeks later Jessica's parents arrived to spend the weekend with her, and

  they brought with them the adoption papers which Peter and Vivien had to sign at

  the local magistrate's offices. Jonathan Neal had somehow managed the

  impossible, and a laborious, usually lengthy procedure had been shortened

  miraculously.

  A braai was arranged at the O'Brien home on the Saturday evening to celebrate

  the occasion,
and Jessica counted close on thirty people seated around the

  barbecue in the well-lit, spacious garden. Other than the O'Briens

  and Jessica's parents, there were familiar faces such as Oom Hennie and Tante

  Maria Delport, and Bernard and Olivia King, but the rest of the guests were

  virtually strangers to Jessica.

  She was sitting with Olivia's chubby little baby on her lap when Dane arrived,

  but Peter spared her the task of introducing him to her parents, and she could

  not help noticing how her mother seemed to melt beneath Dane's charm.

  When the mouthwatering aroma of meat roasting on the open fires permeated

  the air, Peter drew Vivien and Megan to his side, and commanded everyone's

  attention.

  'I'd like to propose a toast,' he announced, placing a hand on Megan's

  shoulder and raising his glass. 'To our daughter, Megan Leigh O'Brien. I'd like

  her to know how happy we are to be able to call her our own, and we want to

  share our happiness with all of you.'

  'To Megan,' everyone chorussed loudly, and happily, raising their glasses to

  their lips, and Jessicas could not help thinking that she had never seen three

  happier people than Peter, Vivien and Megan.

  'There is one other thing,' Peter's voice rose above the excited chatter of the

  well-wishes. 'I'd like to drink a toast to Jessica Neal for bringing Megan into

  our lives.'

  'To Jessica,' the voices of the guests rose in unison, and Jessica felt her cheeks

  grow warm with everyone's attention riveted on her.

  Across the garden Dane's eyes met hers, and although she could not read his

  expression she was certain that it could only be mockery curving his mouth as

  he raised his glass to her and swallowed down the remainder of his drink.

  Jessica looked away, a frown of annoyance on her brow and, when the

  excitement finally died down, Tante Maria leaned across Olivia to say, 'It's

  time you found yourself a husband, kindjie. You would look lovely with a child

  of

  your own in your arms.'

  'Tante Maria's right,' Olivia teased. 'You're incredibly good with children and

  you shouldn't waste too much time settling down and having a few of your own.'

  Jessica hid her pain successfully behind a smile. 'I have to find the right

  husband first.'

  'What about Dane?' Tante Maria persisted wickedly. 'I've always said that he's

  good husband material.'

  Olivia, with the advantage over Tante Maria in the sense that she knew Jessica