THE RELUCTANT BRIDE (24 page)

She
knew she was about to ruin the companionable relationship they had
both worked so hard to build up but she couldn't stop herself. “I
thought it wouldn't be long before you reverted to type. Leopards
never change their spots and lechers never stop leching, do they?”

His
face hardened. “What exactly are you talking about, Gabriella?”

“
I'm
talking about the Sue Langdon look-alike over there. It's quite
obvious that I'm in the way, so I'll do you a favour and disappear!”
And wrenching her arm from his grip she marched blindly across the
terrace.

In
their room she flung herself down on her bed and gave herself up to
tears. Would she spend the rest of her life like this, her emotions
seesawing between cautious happiness and an agony that she couldn't
understand? You couldn't change anyone, even she knew that. People
might seem to change on the surface but underneath they always
remained the same, with all their faults and flaws – and yet
she had hoped – She wept some more until her eyes were leaden
and swollen and her head felt as if someone had clamped an iron band
around it.

The
room was hot and airless. Something seemed to have gone wrong with
the air conditioning. She dragged herself from the bed and opened the
French windows. Despite herself she was drawn to the balcony to gaze
down on Rod where he sat near the pool. She saw that the girls were
now sitting beside him and the three were laughing together.

Slowly
she moved back into the room and stood for a moment, uncertain what
to do next. What do you do when you feel as if you want to die? You
just go on, doing the ordinary things of life. You do whatever you're
supposed to do next and then you do something else, until eventually
you begin to feel a little better. Until the next time. She decided
to take a shower.

She
stripped off her bikini and stepped under the cool spray, tilting her
face and letting the water play on her burning eyes. She stayed in
the shower for a long time, soothed by the gentle pressure of the
water on her tired body. When she got out, knowing that the heat of
the room would soon evaporate the moisture on her skin, she didn't
bother to dry herself but merely spread a towel across her bed and
lay on it.

She
wasn't aware that she had slept but when she opened her eyes she
realised that several hours must have passed. The sun was low,
sending a single shaft of rosy light across the bed and her sprawled
body. Then she realised that Rod was in the room. He sat in a chair
by the French window, his head silhouetted against the sun so that
she could not see his face. She gasped and rolled over, wrapping the
towel across her nakedness.

“
How
long have you been there?”

“
Does
it matter?”

“
Of
course it matters! If I'd known you were watching me -”

“
You
left the door unlocked and then you lay on the bed without a stitch
of clothing. What exactly were you expecting, Gabriella?”

“
I
wasn't – I -”

“
One
of the waiters? Surely not!” He rose swiftly and then he was
standing over her and she flinched at the anger in his voice. “What
the hell are you trying to do to me, Gabriella?

“
N-nothing.
I -”

“
You
don't know what you want, do you? You can't wait to get out of this
marriage yet you hate it when I notice another woman or you see one
take an interest in me. You can't bear the nasty man to touch you,
yet you lie here naked on your bed waiting for him. Well, perhaps you
don't know what you want, Gabriella, but I think I do!”

And
in one swift movement he had ripped the towel from her and pinioned
her to the bed. She fought him as his mouth sought hers, biting at
his lips, clawing at the hard muscles of his shoulders, but she knew
that if this was what he wanted she couldn't stop him. She smelled
the male smell of him, felt the heat of his skin, the weight of his
body and the hard length of him, and suddenly it was what she wanted
too. Her mouth softened and her lips parted beneath his. When his
hands left her breasts and moved down her body, parting her thighs,
she experienced a sensual delight so strong that she shuddered
involuntarily.

He
raised his head. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.

She
couldn't bring herself to speak but her eyes must have given him his
answer. His mouth came down on hers and, slowly at first, then faster
as her passion mounted, he took her with him to a world she had only
guessed at.

CHAPTER
TEN

When
she was dressed she sat out on the balcony, glad of the velvet
darkness that was illuminated only softly by the twinkling curtain of
lights. She was aware that Rod had come out of the shower and was
opening drawers and cupboards. Would he go back into the shower room
to dress, as he had done on previous days? No, he had obviously
decided there was no further need for privacy. Neither of them had
anything left to hide. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled how
completely she had abandoned herself to him.

What
did he think of her now? They had made love in silence and afterwards
he had been almost excessively polite, so polite that – she
gave a little laugh that was half sob – she had almost expected
him to thank her for the privilege.

“
Are
you ready?” he asked and she rose obediently. “I've
booked a table at a very good fish restaurant outside Funchal,”
he was saying but she hardly heard him, conscious only of the touch
of his fingers on her bare shoulders as he helped her on with her
jacket.

Outside
the restaurant's minibus waited. Two other couples from the hotel had
booked tables and she was glad when conversation started up between
the four of them and Rod, leaving her free to her own confused
thoughts.

The
restaurant was unpretentious but it had a high reputation amongst
locals and tourists alike. The building was approached by a roughly
made rocky road and jutted out over the sea, and the fish had been
caught that day. With the other guests she went to look at the catch
and choose her own fish. Each was so large that in England she would
have expected it to feed two or three people, and when her choice was
cooked and served she knew that, magnificent as it was, she couldn't
possibly eat it.

“
I'm
sorry,” she told Rod. “I'm afraid you've wasted your
money.”

“
Not
at all,” he said politely and she toyed with a few flakes and
watched in silence as he despatched the huge fish on his plate with
apparent relish. He hasn't lost his appetite, she thought with
resentment.

“
More
wine?” he asked.

“
Thank
you.” She found it hard to meet his eyes and impossible to chat
with the ease they had developed over the past few days. That's gone
for good, she thought, and wondered what would take its place and
whether he would try to make love to her again, and if he did, would
she be able to fight him. Unbidden images rollercoasted through her
mind and an incredible wave of desire shook her so that she dropped
her fork and had to snatch up the menu to hide her face. But it
mustn't happen again, she vowed. It must never happen again.

“
I
thought we might visit a vineyard tomorrow,” he said calmly,
“and then go on to the Botanical Gardens. What d'you think?”

“
It
sounds very interesting.” She knew she sounded stiff and
awkward, and marvelled that he could appear so unmoved by what had
happened. Obviously it meant little to him, but then she was far from
being the first woman in his life – and certainly wouldn't be
the last.

“
I
don't think you're enjoying this, are you? Would you like to go?”

She
hesitated. She wanted to leave. On the other hand the night was still
young. If they went back to the hotel now - “Don't we have to
wait for the minibus?”

“
They'll
take us back whenever we're ready.” The corner of his mouth
turned down in a half smile of amusement. “Don't worry, I won't
sweep you straight up to the bedroom. There are plenty of interesting
things to do in Funchal. First.”

She
bent hurriedly to rummage in her handbag, hoping he had not seen the
telltale scarlet in her cheeks.

“
Handkerchief?”
he asked.

“
I'm
– looking for aspirin,” she muttered. “I've got a
headache.”

“
Hmm.
Headaches already!”

They
stopped at a piano bar where Gabriella drank more wine. At this rate,
she warned herself, she would be an alcoholic before she got back to
England, but it was still only eleven when they returned to the
hotel. A trio of musicians played on the terrace and several couples
were dancing.

“
Shall
we watch for a while?” she asked, snatching at the opportunity
to delay going up to the bedroom.

“
If
you wish.”

In
a corner of the terrace, whose vine-latticed roof was strung with
coloured lights, they found an empty table. From the gardens the
heavy scent of bougainvillea drifted towards them and the lively
disco style music was infectious. As her fingers tapped out the
rhythm she thought that in other circumstances she would have enjoyed
the atmosphere of romance and anticipation.

“
Another
drink?” asked Rod.

“
I
think I've had too many already.”

“
In
that case, let's dance.”

Instinctively
assessing the danger of being close to him on a dance floor she
wanted to refuse but he was already moving off, his hand catching
hers and pulling her after him.

He
danced well. Too well. She looked away from his lazily moving figure.

Then
the music changed to a slow moody piece and Rod was drawing her
towards him. “That's better,” he murmured. One hand at
her waist, the other at the back of her neck, long fingers woven
through the soft tendrils of her hair, he fitted her to his body.

This
was a mistake, Gabriella told herself as they swayed slowly to the
music and she began to feel that strange heat that he was able to
arouse in her so easily. She tried to move away. “Shall we sit
down?”

He
raised an eyebrow. “Tired already? Do you want to go to bed?”

“
No!”