Dance-of-the-Snake-Yvonne-Whittal Read online

  she questioned frowningly, her frantic mind skirting over the frightening

  possibility of an anticipated disaster.

  'Shut up, will you, and let me concentrate on my driving,' Dane ordered

  tersely, and Jessica lapsed obediently into silence.

  Dane was driving as fast as the speed limit would allow, and just beyond the

  limits of the town he turned off on to a side road which led up to an old house

  which stood on an enormous piece of ground. It was difficult to make out her

  surroundings in the dark, but she was almost certain that she had glimpsed a

  tennis court and swimming pool to the right of the house. The house itself had

  obviously had its outward appearance altered quite recently, and the lights

  shining out on to the patio gave no indication of an impending disaster.

  'Come with me,' Dane said when she had climbed out of the car and, taking

  her arm, he hurried her up the stone steps towards the heavy oak door. He

  opened it without knocking, and moments later Jessica found herself in a

  spacious entrance hall with the chandelier from the ceiling casting a patterned

  light on to the polished yellow- wood floor. 'Welcome to my home, Jessica.'

  She stared up at him blankly for several incredulous seconds before her mind

  was able to absorb and digest his statement, then an incredible anger began to

  shake through her.

  'This is your home?' she asked coldly, making sure that she had heard him

  correctly as she watched him calmly pocket his car keys.

  'That's right,' he nodded.

  'And where, may I ask, is the emergency?' she demanded, her voice rife with

  sarcasm.

  'You're looking at it,' he told her mockingly." 'I just couldn't face dining alone

  this evening.'

  Her dark eyes, sparkling with fury, traced the hard, arrogant line of his square

  jaw, and that husky note in

  her voice was intensified as she unleashed some of the anger within her. 'You

  tricked me into coming here!'

  'Would you have come if I'd invited you?'

  'Most certainly not!'

  'Well, there you are, then.'

  Her hands were shaking with the desire to strike him, and she was forced to

  clench them tightly at her sides. 'You're mad!'

  'I dare say I am,' he laughed shortly.

  'Take me home this instant!'

  ‘I’ll take you home after you've had dinner with me.'

  'In that case I'll walk home.'

  He was at the door before she could reach it, applying his weight to the solid

  oak, and imprisoning her there at the same time.

  'It's a mighty long walk back to your cottage,' he cautioned her, 'and it's

  dangerous for a woman to thumb a lift at this time of night.'

  T don't care!' Jessica argued fiercely, fighting desperately against the emotions

  aroused by the closeness of his hard, virile body. 'You had no right to bring me

  here under false pretences, and if you don't want to take me home, then I'll just

  have to ------------------- '

  Jessica,' he interrupted her tirade sharply, 'are you afraid of me?'

  She looked away from those razor-sharp eyes. 'Don't be ridiculous!'

  'Then stay and have dinner with me.'

  The clean male smell of him invaded her nostrils and stirred her senses

  alarmingly, but she refused to be swayed in a physical sense. 'I claim the right to

  choose whom I spend my free time with, and I don't choose to spend it with you.'

  'That's not a very nice thing to say, Jessica.'

  'I'm not in a very nice mood at this moment.'

  'All you have to do is have dinner with me, and at any

  time during the course of the evening you have only to say the word, and I'll

  take you home.' Her chin was caught between strong fingers, and her face was

  raised in a way that left her no option but to meet the challenging mockery of

  those pale grey eyes. 'Am I asking for something so impossible?'

  She had never been this close to him before, and her heart was beating too

  hard and fast for comfort, but, damn him, she would rather die than have him

  know of the shattering effect his nearness was having on her emotions.

  'If you refuse to take me home now, then I don't suppose I have much of a

  choice, do I?' she heard herself reply in a surprisingly calm voice.

  'Come this way,' he said, releasing her and, at the same time, giving her the

  opportunity to breathe easier as he led the way into the living-room. Jessica

  paused just inside the door, her eyes widening at what she saw. 'Do you like^

  it?' Dane asked with a faint smile playing about his mouth.

  'Not particularly,' she said, taking in the subdued lighting, the expensive hi-fi,

  the shaggy carpet, and the heavily padded furniture.

  'If it's the truth I want, then I'm sure to get it from you, Jessica,' he laughed

  cynically, drawing her farther into the room. 'What is there that you don't like?'

  'The whole set-up,' she told him stiffly, casting a wary glance about the room

  once more. 'It looks like a seduction scene in a third-rate movie.'

  He gave a shout of laughter. 'Now what would a nice girl like you know about

  things like that?'

  'I'm not a child!'

  'No, you're not.' His glance lingered briefly on her slight, feminine curves,

  then he turned away with a careless shrug. 'It's a pity you don't like the way I've

  furnished this room, because I find it rather relaxing. Soft lights, sweet music .

  . .' he flicked a switch and the sound of muted violins reached her ears, '. . . and

  comfortable

  chairs in which to enjoy it all.'

  'Chairs? What chairs?' Jessica pounced on the word nervously. 'There are two

  sofas, and neither of them look as if they were designed for the purpose of being

  sat on.'

  'Don't put ideas into my head, Jessica.'

  'I don't have to put them there. They're there all the time,' she retorted with heavy

  sarcasm, but, against her will, a strange excitement was beginning to stir within

  her when her eyes collided with his. 'Did you bring me here to seduce me?'

  'If I said no, would you believe me?'

  'I most certainly would not!'

  'Then you're a wise girl,' he smiled wickedly, turning towards the glass cabinet

  at the far end of the room.

  'You admit it, then?' she almost choked on the words.

  'Let's say that I intend to be on my best behaviour, and the rest is entirely up to

  you.'

  'You mean you'll at least give me the opportunity to say no?' she asked with a

  marked cynicism in her voice.

  Dane splashed soda water into his drink and filled a smaller glass with

  something she could not identify before he turned and said: 'Difficult as it may

  be for you to believe, Jessica, I've never yet taken a woman by force.'

  'Am I supposed to find some sort of comfort in that remark?'

  He appeared unconcerned as he came towards her with those lithe, easy strides,

  but she sensed that every muscle in his long, lean body was geared for action at

  a moment's notice.

  'My revealing remark was intended to help you relax,' he replied, and her

  winged eyebrows rose higher above her mocking eyes.

  'Oh, really?'

  'I have no intention of pouncing on you, and neither do I have the inclination to

  drag you by the hair into my bed,' he ann
ounced derisively, a look of

  exasperation

  flashing across his handsome features. 'Nothing would dampen my ardour more.5

  'Well, that's nice to know at any rate,' she replied stiffly.

  'Here,' he said abruptly, almost thrusting the small glass into her hand, 'drink

  this.'

  Jessica stared down into the crimson liquid a little dubiously. 'What is it?'

  'It's a love potion I blended myself,' he informed her harshly. 'It's guaranteed to

  make you break out in a feverish and passionate desire for . . .' he bowed

  mockingly '. . . yours truly.'

  'Don't be silly,' she laughed, but her laughter was unsteady.

  'You're the one who's being silly,' he contradicted. 'I've given you a harmless

  glass of wine which is about as potent as tapwater.'

  Jessica felt more than silly; she felt ridiculous as she allowed herself to be

  coaxed on to the sofa where the soft cushions seemed to enfold her like a cloud.

  Dane was seated beside her, and his eyes never left her in peace for one moment.

  There was seduction in every look and in every nuance of his voice, and she was

  alarmed to discover that she was responding to it much the same as the dove

  outside her bedroom window responded to the call of its mate. She was becoming

  hypnotised by his suave charm, and she had to escape before it was too late.

  'This is impossible!' she muttered angrily, rising to her feet and placing her

  untouched glass of wine on the low table. 'I can't stay.'

  'Of course you can,' Dane contradicted, placing his own glass beside hers, and

  getting to his feet to put her at a disadvantage once more. 'Peter is on call, and that

  means we have the entire evening to ourselves.'

  'That's just it,' she argued nervously. 'I can't spend the evening here with you.'

  His eyes narrowed perceptibly. 'Are you afraid of what people might say?'

  'Don't pretend that you're unaware of the reputation you've acquired for

  yourself.'

  'I have no intention of pretending anything, but may I remind you that you

  came here in my car. No one saw me arrive, and no one saw us leave so, to all

  intents and purposes, you are safely tucked up in your cottage.'

  'I would still prefer to go home,' she persisted stubbornly, but she should have

  known that she would be no match for this man who towered above her with

  his jaw hard and unrelenting.

  His hands came up to grip her shoulders, his touch burning her skin and

  sending a quivering warmth flowing through her body. The edge of the sofa

  was against her calves, and a gentle push sent her down into its cloudy softness

  once more.

  'Drink your wine, and relax,' Dane instructed, pressing her glass into her

  trembling hand and seating himself so closely beside her that his hard thigh

  brushed against her own.'The evening has only just begun.'

  'Dr Trafford '

  'Dane,' he murmured, sliding an arm along the back of the sofa behind her

  shoulders, and his particular brand of shaving cream tantalised her senses. 'For

  tonight it must be Dane.'

  Jessica stared helplessly into those cool grey eyes. 'You don't give up1 easily,

  do you, Dane?'

  'Not when I think I have something worthwhile in my sights,' he replied

  smoothly, reaching for his own glass and draining it before he returned it to the

  low table.

  'Meaning me?' she asked, holding her breath.

  'Meaning you.'

  She wrenched her glance from his and, taking a sip of the wine to steady the

  trembling of her insides, she said bluntly, 'I'm not available for what you have

  in mind.'

  'How do you know what I have in mind?' he demanded mockingly, his

  sensual fingers trailing fire against her sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.

  'I've been in Louisville just over a month, and judging by what I've heard

  and seen for myself, I can guess.'

  'You're referring to Sylvia Summers, I take it?'

  'You take it correctly, but

  ' she altered her position

  to avoid his touch, 'your private life is your own, just as long as you don't

  insist on dragging me into it as well.'

  Dane leaned towards her then, imprisoning her in the curved corner of the

  sofa, and making her aware once again of the potent magnetism he exuded.

  His hard thigh pressed against her own with a certain intimacy, and it sent a

  shiver of sensation rippling through her.

  'You don't seem to have a very flattering opinion of me,' he remarked

  mockingly, his lips so close to her own that she could feel the warmth of his

  breath against her mouth when he spoke, and for one despicable moment she

  wondered what it would feel like to have those sensually chiselled lips pressed

  against her own.

  Taking care not to spill her wine, she said accusingly, 'I don't particularly

  care for men who use women merely to satisfy their sexual appetities.'

  His mouth twisted cynically. 'Women like Sylvia don't expect or want more

  than that from a man.'

  'I dare say you're right, but even women like Sylvia need the stability of

  marriage at some time or another in their lives,' she stopped him in the act of

  bringing his lips closer to hers, and he drew away from her with an ex-

  clamation of disgust on his lips.

  'Marriage!' he sneered harshly. 'What can marriage offer me that I don't

  already have?'

  'A family,' she said at once and, taking another steadying sip of wine, she

  asked, 'Don't you want children, Dane?'

  'To have children I shall have to find myself a wife ^ first, and I can't say that

  I relish the idea of tying myself

  down to one woman for the rest of my life.' For some unaccountable reason she

  felt a painful jar in the region of her heart, and, as she raised her glass to her lips,

  he said with an exasperated sigh, 'Now how did we get on to this subject, may I

  know?'

  Tm not so sure,' Jessica replied tritely, 'but perhaps it would be safer if we

  stepped off it.'

  Dane leaned towards her with a look of purposeful intent on his lean, tanned

  face, but a discreet knock on the living-room door made them both glance

  towards it to find a black man in a neat white jacket hovering there.

  'Dinner is ready, Mr. Dane.'

  Dane sighed audibly, and drew away from Jessica. 'Thank you, Jonas.'

  A superbly prepared four-course meal was served to them in the large

  dining-room with Jonas coming and going discreetly. He was accustomed to his

  employer entertaining women alone in his home* it seemed, and she experienced

  the most hateful pang of jealousy when she found herself wondering at the

  number of women who had sat exactly where she was sitting as a prelude to an

  evening which had undoubtedly ended in his bed.

  Jessica thrust aside this distasteful thought and tried to concentrate on the plate

  of food before her, but she found it virtually impossible to continue enjoying the

  tastefully prepared beef and freshly cooked vegetables.

  'You're an excellent surgeon, Dane,' she directed the conversation along a safer

  passage when they sat with their coffee before them. 'Have you ever thought of

  specialising in the various fields of surgery?'

  'Neuro-surgery interests me a great deal,' Dane's reply surp
rised her, 'and if I

  should ever grow tired of my job here in Louisville, I might just take the plunge

  in that direction.'

  'In that, case you should chat to my father,' she was saying before she could

  prevent herself, and his straight,

  dark brows drew together in a frown.

  Tour father?'

  Jessica lowered her gaze uncomfortably. 'My father specialised in

  neuro-surgery, but he retired last year.'

  'Why didn't you mention this before?'

  'I didn't think it was important,' she moved her shoulders carelessly, wishing for

  some obscure reason that she had not mentioned the subject.

  'Am I going to have the privilege of meeting your father?'

  'You may, yes,' she replied evasively and, risking a glance at him, she found

  him observing her with an unfathomable expression in his grey eyes.

  'I shall have something to look forward to, then.'

  When they returned to the living-room Dane selected a record from his vast

  collection and put it on the turntable, then he turned towards her and held out his

  hand.

  'Dance with me, Jessica,' he said, his eyes holding hers captive, and she felt

  powerless to resist as he drew her up out of the sofa and into his arms.

  Jessica had danced with many men before, but dancing with Dane was a totally

  new experience. His hand was against the hollow of her back, drawing her

  strangely pliant body against the hard length of his, and sparking off all kinds of

  sensations. His thighs brushed against hers as they moved slowly in time to the

  rhythmic, throbbing beat of the music, and when he laid her hand against his

  chest where she could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, she was

  surprised to discover that his heart was beating as hard and fast as her own. His

  potent maleness made the blood flow through her veins like heady wine, and

  when he lowered his head to rest his cheek against hers, she found that she had

  neither the strength nor the desire to bring this moment to an end.

  She could not be sure how long they danced like that. The music seemed

  endless, but somehow she did not care. She had the mad desire to stay in his arms

  like this for

  ever, with his cheek against hers, and the warmth of his hard flesh burning

  her fingers through the expensive cotton of his shirt, but she knew it could

  not last when she felt Dane's hand move in a sensually arousing manner