A Kiss To Remember Page 10

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. While you’re waiting,’ he added, smiling wryly, ‘select one of these!’ And he drew several small foil packets from his trouser pocket and dropped them nonchalantly on to her naked stomach. ‘I couldn’t make up my mind which kind might take your fancy so I brought one of each.’

  His naturalness totally defused any embarrassment in Angie. She picked up each one in turn, the last one making her eyes snap up to his. ‘Passion-fruit flavoured?’

  He grinned wickedly while he unzipped his trousers. ‘It seemed an appropriate flavour. Besides, I seem to recall you were very partial to passion-fruit.’

  Now Angie did colour with embarrassment. And perhaps something else. She knew she wouldn’t need any incentive to do whatever would please him. She couldn’t wait to explore his body as he’d explored hers, to kiss and possess every inch of him, to make him shudder with desire for her.

  At last he was naked, and he was as magnificent as she’d known he would be, and wonderfully uninhibited about being nude before her, despite his intense arousal. He returned to sit beside her, dispensing with all the condoms but one, then doing what he had to do with a stunningly swift expertise which left Angie floundering. Before she could feel any real dismay, however, he bent to kiss her mouth again, caressing her body at the same time till she was trembling with desire for him.

  ‘Now, close your eyes, my darling,’ he whispered into her softened lips. ‘Lie back and think of nothing but you and me, together in each other’s arms, loving each other. We’ve both waited for this for a long time, and you deserve the very best...’

  His words had the most powerful effect on her. Her love for him rose to fill her heart to overflowing. She reached for him, pulling him down, on to and into her body. Her cry was a cry of pure joy, despite the flash of pain. When he hesitated, she clung to him, pulling him deeper and deeper, till they indeed were one.

  For a long moment they stayed that way, their mouths searching for each other to complete their union, their hearts beating to the same beat. He speared her fingers with his and lifted her hands high above her, stretching their upper bodies full-length till he covered every inch of her chest and arms with his. Again, he stayed that way for several moments, and she gloried in his weight upon her, a feeling of warm surrender washing through her.

  When he began to move within her, her legs lifted automatically, to wrap high around him so that he might sink even more deeply into her, and quite instinctively she began to move with him. Their rhythm became a drum-beat, first in her head, then all through her body. She became the drum, stretched tighter and tighter, and Lance the drummer.

  Soon the beat grew louder and faster. Angie became hotter and hotter, beads of perspiration breaking out all over her body. She feared everything inside her might burst if Lance didn’t slow down, or stop. Then something did explode, deep within her, and suddenly everything was very, very right.

  She cried out, and clung to him all the harder as spasms of the most exquisite delight racked her in-sides. They went on and on, squeezing and releasing Lance, till he too cried out. Angie felt the great shudders of his climax, and tears sprang to her eyes. Perhaps they were tears of release and relief, but she liked to think that they were tears of love. For she did so love this man who had just made the most beautiful love to her. Loved him so much that to contemplate life without him was unendurable.

  Now the tears flowed fresh, and Lance was kissing them from her face, cradling her to him and stroking her back.

  ‘Don’t cry, my darling,’ he told her. ‘You were wonderful. You are wonderful. God, I wish I didn’t have to go back to Melbourne tomorrow. I wish I could stay here and make love to you forever.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Angie froze momentarily in his arms before sighing her resignation to his words. Lance’s voicing the transitory nature of their affair should not have shocked or distressed her, since she’d known the reality all along. But it was hard to reconcile reality with what they had just shared. To Angie it had been an out-of-this-world experience—so damned wonderful, in fact, that she’d begun to harbour stupid hopes again, romantic fool that she was!

  She sighed again, and Lance’s head lifted.

  ‘Are they sighs of satisfaction, exhaustion, or something else?’ he asked.

  She smiled softly and reached up to comb his hair back from his forehead with her fingers. ‘What do you think?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ came his pensive answer. ‘That’s why I’m asking.’

  Angie felt slightly flustered by the question, a nervous laugh escaping from her lips. She foresaw their having an argument if she started telling him how much she loved him, and how much she wanted to be a part of his life on an ongoing basis. If all she was ever going to have with Lance was the rest of today and tonight, she wasn’t about to do or say anything to spoil their short time together.

  ‘All three, I guess,’ she said. ‘I’m very satisfied, very exhausted, but also very disappointed.’ This last bit she delivered with a softly seductive pout.

  It threw him. ‘Disappointed?’

  ‘Yes. I’d like you to be able to stay and make love to me forever too. But if you have to go back to Melbourne tomorrow then that’s that. We still have the rest of today and tonight, don’t we? Gosh, Lance, I wouldn’t have left it this long if I’d known sex was so fantastic. Though perhaps it’s the man I’m with who’s fantastic. You’re an incredible lover—do you know that?’

  He was frowning down at her and she wondered what she’d said that was wrong. He muttered something under his breath, then abruptly withdrew, making her gasp. Desolation swept in at the empty feeling he left behind, not just in her body but in her soul. Her heart sank ever further when he rolled from her, stood up, then strode off into the bathroom.

  Clearly she’d said something to offend him. But what?

  The blackest depression descended while she listened to the bathroom sounds—the flushing of the toilet, then the turning on of taps. But when the taps remained on, she began to frown. When Lance wrenched the door open, standing there naked and glowering, she sat up. ‘What is it?’ she said. ‘What have I done? Why are you mad at me?’

  ‘Well you might ask,’ he growled, and stalked over to haul her unceremoniously up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. ‘We’re going to have a spa bath together, Angie Brown. And while we’re in there, we’re going to talk.’

  ‘Talk?’ she squeaked, all the breath having been knocked out of her body.

  ‘Yeah, talk, lover,’ he snarled as he carried her into the bathroom, both his arms clamped firmly around her thighs and buttocks. ‘What did you think? That you’d add an underwater screw to your tally of new experiences for today? Perhaps you’d like me to screw you in the shower as well, or on the floor, or up against the vanity? Mirrors can add a real dimension to sex, you know. Oh, yes, I forgot... We still have the passion-fruit-flavoured experience to go as well. Hell, I’m really looking forward to that one. Make it good and I’ll dash out for some strawberry as well!’

  ‘Why, you... you...’ She began to pummel his bare buttocks with balled fists. ‘I’ll have you know that—’

  She broke off with a squeal when he dragged her off him and dumped her into the hot frothing bath, bubbles and water splashing up the walls and on to the floor.

  ‘You’ll have me know what?’ he ground out, plonking himself down in the furthest corner of the bath away from her and crossing his arms.

  Angie glared at him over the expanse between them. ‘You’re a damned hypocrite, Lance Sterling,’ she stated, lifting her chin in cool outrage. ‘It’s all right for you to have sown your wild oats but I’m not even allowed one night’s wild oats without your looking down your nose at me.’

  ‘That’s right. Because you’re not me. You’re my sweet Angie, and I want you to stay that way.’

  ‘Oh, piffle!’

  ‘Piffle?’ he bellowed.

  ‘Yes, piffle!’ she repeated
, just as loudly, folding her arms as well and curling her top lip at him. ‘I’ve never heard such a load of rubbish in my whole life! You were all for bringing me here and deflowering me, Lance, and now, suddenly, just because I really liked it and want a whole lot more, you’ve gone all prim and proper. What is it? Conscience getting the better of you all of a sudden? Or are you just sorry that you have to go back to Melbourne and some other man might get the benefit of your splendid initiation?’

  ‘You’re not to sleep with any other man,’ he growled. ‘Ever!’

  ‘Really? And how do you aim to stop me?’

  ‘By making you my wife!’

  Angie was staggered, as much by Lance’s unexpected announcement as by her immediate and furious rejection of the idea. ‘And what makes you imagine that I’d even consider marrying you?’

  ‘Because you love me!’ he said, blue eyes blazing.

  No mention of his loving her, she noted bitterly.

  That’s because he doesn’t, that dark voice in her head whispered. His offer of marriage is just a means to an end. You in his bed. Exclusively.

  Her laugh carried disbelief at his presumptuous arrogance. ‘You have to be joking. As I said last night, Lance, how could I possibly love a man I don’t even know? I had a crush on you once, and there’s still a chemistry between us. But that’s not love.’

  ‘Who says it isn’t?’

  ‘Well, even if it is a form of love—and I question that—it’s not the kind which lasts. It’s certainly not the kind that makes a good foundation for marriage.’

  ‘Is that your final answer?’

  Was it? Panic raced in as the reality of what she was doing hit her. The man she loved had asked her to marry him and she’d just turned him down. Her indecision turned to anguish. How could she blindly commit her life to Lance when what she’d said was true? She didn’t know him. Not as yet, anyway.

  Gathering all her common sense and courage, she ground out, ‘For now, it is.’

  ‘And in the future?’

  She swallowed convulsively. ‘That’s up to you, Lance. You might try working on winning my love and letting me get to know you better. I’m sure what I feel for you could easily turn to true love, given the chance.’

  ‘I see,’ he said thoughtfully.

  ‘Do you love me?’ she asked, and held her breath.

  Their eyes clashed and his face hardened. ‘I’m not in the habit of telling women I love them after they’ve just rejected me.’

  ‘But I haven’t rejected you. I’ve told you to work at winning me, if you really want me. The trouble with you, Lance, is that you’ve had everything given to you on a silver platter. You must learn that some things don’t come easily.’

  ‘You were pretty easy today,’ he snapped.

  ‘And so were you,’ she countered.

  They glared at each other and slowly, very slowly, Lance’s mouth curved back into a smile. ‘You’re turned into a tough little cookie, haven’t you?’

  ‘No, Lance, I’ve just grown up.’

  ‘And very nicely too,’ he said, his eyes dropping to her breasts, which weren’t totally covered by the bubbles. Angie was irritated to feel her nipples respond. She gulped when Lance closed the distance between them, stiffening when he curled a soapy hand around her neck and started drawing her mouth towards his.

  ‘What... what do you think you’re doing?’ she said, despising her voice for shaking on her.

  ‘Exactly what you told me to do. I’m setting about winning you.’

  ‘And you think this is the way?’

  ‘Hell, Angie, a man has to use whatever limited talents he’s got in a situation like this. You yourself said I was an incredible lover. I guess I have to believe you, because my Angie wouldn’t lie. She’s as honest as the day is long...’

  The fingers caressing her throat gradually exerted enough pressure to close the small distance between their mouths. It was a lightly teasing, impossibly tantalising kiss, an annoyingly effective kiss. Angie yanked her head back and he chuckled ruefully. ‘Hopefully, this day will prove to be very long, because I can see I’ve still got a lot of winning to do...’

  Angie lay in bed on her side, watching Lance’s chest rise and fall in the steady rhythm of sleep. Her own chest rose, then fell in a weary sigh. The light trickling through the curtained window showed that dawn wasn’t very far away.

  ‘Well, Lance,’ she murmured to his unconscious form. ‘You’ve won. I know now I can’t risk letting you go back to Melbourne today without me, can’t risk your never asking me to marry you a second time, can’t risk that I might never lie like this with you again...’

  She sighed another soul-shattering sigh and rolled on to her back, fearful of her future if she married this man. Would he be faithful to her? Would he make a good father? Would he share his life with her in every way, like her father did with her mother?

  For that was what she wanted. Not an empty high society marriage, where the wife was little better than a social hostess. She also wanted her children always with her, not sent off to some toffee-nosed boarding-school. She definitely wanted her husband to come home every night, not to be jetting off all the time on so-called overseas business trips.

  Angie accepted unhappily that she might never have all that if she became Mrs Lance Sterling. The kind of marriage he would offer her would probably prove to be hell. But not to become Lance’s wife would be condemning herself to an even worse hell.

  She closed her eyes and contemplated that alternative fate. Never to feel his arms around her again, or his lips on hers, or his body blended with hers. Never to hear the wonderfully seductive words he’d whispered to her over and over.

  ‘You’re so beautiful... I adore you...I’ve always wanted you... I’ll always want you... I’m crazy about you...’

  Lance had undoubtedly pulled out all the stops each time they’d made love during the long day and the long, long night. He’d spent limitless time on foreplay, always making sure that she was so aroused by the time they moved on that she would agree to whatever demands he’d made of her, and whatever position he’d suggested. When his supply of protection had been exhausted he hadn’t stopped making love to her, he’d simply stopped seeking satisfaction for himself. He had seemed to gain as much pleasure from seeing her climax as from having one himself, although, in hindsight, Angie doubted that was so. It had simply been his way of corrupting her further to his will. Of totally seducing, then winning her.

  And how well he’d succeeded, she conceded with bittersweet realisation. She’d told him proudly that some things would not come easily. What a laugh that was! She obviously hadn’t anticipated her own sexual weaknesses.

  The sound of the telephone ringing beside the bed startled her. Who could it be? The only person who knew she was here was Vanessa, Angie having called her flatmate the previous evening to tell her where she was and that she wouldn’t be home that night. Vanessa hadn’t sounded at all surprised, though Angie had been relieved that Vanessa was on her way out on a date and didn’t have time for more questions.

  ‘Answer it,’ Lance mumbled beside her. ‘Maybe the hotel’s on fire.’

  Angie reached for the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she said, a frown on her face and in her voice.

  ‘That you, Angie?’

  Bud! Oh, God, it was Bud! Angie clamped her hand on the phone and groaned.

  ‘Who is it?’ Lance immediately demanded, propping himself up on one elbow.

  ‘Bud,’ was all she could manage.

  Lance’s swear-word told it all.

  Angie gulped and lifted her hand. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said simply.

  ‘Gees, Angie, I couldn’t believe it when Vanessa told me where you were and with whom. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you, and how disgusted I am with Lance.’

  Angie’s mind began racing. Vanessa would never have told Bud where she was and with whom unless there was a real emergency. Certainly not at this hour of the morning. She wo
uld have made up some excuse for her friend. ‘Never mind the lecture, Bud,’ Angie said impatiently. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Mum’s had a heart attack,’ he said bluntly.

  Everything inside of Angie seized up with shock. Her mother had had a heart attack? But she was only forty-eight years old. It didn’t seem possible.

  A sick pounding began in her temples, and her heart.

  ‘She... she’s not dead, is she? God, Bud, don’t tell me she’s dead,’ she cried.

  ‘No. She’s not dead. But she’s in hospital. Dad says it’s still touch and go.’

  Angie broke down in a flood of tears, Lance taking the receiver out of her suddenly shaking hands.

  ‘This is Lance, Bud,’ she heard him say.’ Angie’s too upset to talk. What’s all this about?’

  Angie still could not believe it. Her mother... maybe dying. What would she do if she died? What would Bud do? And Dad? Dear God, Dad wouldn’t be able to cope. Not at this stage. It was too soon. A hundred years too soon!

  ‘For pity’s sake grow up, Bud, and get your priorities right,’ Lance suddenly snapped. ‘What in hell does it matter if Angie and I spent the night together when your mother might be dying? Now, get your butt into your car and start driving up there. And don’t damned well speed! It won’t do your dad any good if you wrap your stupid bloody neck around a tree.’

  Angie blinked at the forceful tone in Lance’s voice. She was surprised, and impressed, despite everything. He was normally so easygoing and laid back in his dealings with Bud. Crises sometimes brought out the best or the worst in people. It was clearly bringing out the best in Lance.

  ‘No, don’t waste time coming in here to pick Angie up,’ he resumed, in that same masterful tone. ‘I’ll drive her up there myself. And you’ll keep your mouth shut about Angie and me if you know what’s good for you. If you say one derogatory word about us to your parents, I’ll skin you alive. You’ve pushed our friendship as far as I can take it this weekend, Bud, and I won’t take any more!’

  He reached over Angie and slammed the receiver down, his tough expression melting at the sight of her tear-stained face. ‘My poor darling,’ he crooned, taking her in his arms and rocking her gently back and forth. ‘I know what your mother means to you... to all of you. She’s a grand woman.’