A Pretend Engagement (17 page)

So much so that she kept out of his way as much as possible. When he strolled into the kitchen she found she had to be doing something somewhere else. She was dusting the drawing room when he came in with the Sunday papers he had been to collect.

`Just finished,' she announced, looking anywhere but at him. 'I'll leave you to it.'

He looked at her quizzically. `I got a paper for you,' he said evenly.

`Oh, lovely,' she replied. `Thank you.' And, taking it from him, she took it with her to read elsewhere.

By lunchtime she had run out of jobs. She had a sandwich herself, and prepared a snack lunch for him that she took into the drawing room on a tray. Then she took herself off to the garden and, the ground still wet, attempted to tidy up.

She glanced to the house. Leon was watching her from one of the drawing room windows. She wanted to be in the drawing room with him, and was at odds with herself, even with the love she had for him, that when yesterday she had been so comfortable just to be with him, today she should feel so awkward.

But she resumed her gardening efforts and would not go in. Leon had been off women `in spades' when he'd arrived, and she did not want to be like any of the women who sought him out, or who had caused him to be so fed up he had sought the solitude of a place like Aldwyn House.

Varnie kept out of his way for the rest of the day. Having put her gardening tools away, she decided to take her car for a test run-for all she was sure the replaced wheel had been accurately positioned.

She eventually returned, knowing that dinner was going to be a problem. It would be too farcical after they had eaten in the kitchen yesterday and Friday to now start laying a place in the dining room for him.

They did eat together, but she hated that she could no longer be natural with him. He would just love it, wouldn't he, if he knew how she felt about him? So, in her attempts to show him that she did not care, she found she smiled less-in fact her smile was non-existent. And soon any conversation between them petered out.

Last night he had helped with the washing up.

That night, as soon as he had eaten all that he wanted, he pushed back his chair, grunted his thanks for the meal, and tookhimself off elsewhere.

And Varnie straight away wished that things had been different. But she washed and dried dishes and knew that they could not be different. She tidied the kitchen and then had several choices: stay where she was, go to the drawing room-where Leon was-or go to bed.

She opted to go upstairs. Sadly, she somehow had an idea that Leon would be quite relieved to have the drawing room tohimself .

But it was early, and she was restless and could not settle. She decided to take a shower. Then she realised she had removed the towels from her bathroom earlier and had not replaced them. She left her room and headed for the airing cupboard, and had a grasshopper brain moment when she spotted the freshly ironed shirts there belonging to Leon. It took but a moment togather the warm shirts up. Closing the airingcupboard doors behind her, Varnie went along to Leon's room. By the time he came up to bed his laundry would be ready for him to put away. She supposed her brain must still be a degree on other matters because, when she usually left his clean laundry outside his door, that evening without so much as a thought to knock she went straight in-and stopped dead.

`Leon!' she gasped, seeing the man she so loved standing there forall the world as though he had been pacing his room and had halted, equally surprised to see her. 'I'm s-sorry,' she stammered, regaining some of her composure. `I didn't know you were in here.'

`Obviously,' he retorted shortly.

And while she wanted to hurriedly back out, because he clearly did not care for her walking in unannounced, she considered it would be totally undignified to back out and place his shirts outside his door.

`Forgive me,' she said stiffly. `It won't happen again.' `I wasn't referring to you coming in here,' Leon told her curtly, `but to the fact that it's plain for anyone to see that you'd rather be anywhere that I am not,' he ended coldly. And suddenly Varnie was appalled.

`Oh, Leon,' she wailed. 'It's not you!'

`Not?' he demanded, his expression not lightening at all. `What, then? You've been avoiding me like the plague all day. I was close to coming to find you. If I've upset you in some way, don't you think I've a right to know how?'

`Oh, Leon,' she said again, and had to smile. A fortnight ago he would not have cared one whit about upsetting her. Yet tonight he had been near to coming to find her! That did not mean he cared anything now, of course, warned a sobering voice that she knew it would be better if she listened to. `I...' she said helplessly. Suddenly it was all mixed up in her head. `You came here because you were fed up about women-well, thatwas part of your reason anyway...' She attempted to straighten it. `And it I-er-well, I-' She broke off and discovered then that love meant not wanting to upset that someone you loved. And even though her head scoffed that her attitude that day could not have upset Leon in any small way, she found she was confessing openly, `I enjoyed being friends with you. But I got to wondering if-considering how you'd felt about women-if-if I'd been, well, a bit too friendly.'

Leon looked astonished. `As in-come on to me, you mean?' She wasn't sure what she meant any more. She felt hot and all of a jangle inside. 'Sh-shall I put your shirts over here?' she asked, heading for the chest of drawers. He did not answer, and she went and placed his clean laundry down on top of it and turned about. But suddenly she did not want to go to bed bad friends with him. A yard or two away from him she stopped, and held out her right hand. `I'm sorry,' she apologised. 'I'd like to be friends while we're here.'

Leon shook his head. `What a mixture you are,' he said softly, all animosity gone from him. And, coming over to her, he caught hold of her hand in his-not to shake it, but to hold as he looked down into her apologetic lovely seagreen eyes. 'I'll forgive you,' he said with a smile, and bent his head to lightly touch his lips to hers. She had tingled just from the fact he was holding her hand-and that was before he kissed her. `You kissed me once to show you'd forgiven and trusted me,' he reminded her.

She wanted to kiss him again, but knew that she must not get carried away by her emotions of the moment. `Yes, well...' she mumbled, and took a step away from him because that was the sensible thing to do. But who said love was sensible?Especially when she looked up into his grey eyes that seemed warm and all sensitive to her.

Hardly aware of what she was doing, she took a step to him again and stretched up and kissed him-and immediately felt embarrassed that she had. She searched desperately for some sane reason for doing what she had, when sane reason there was none.

`There,' she said, as lightly as she could, `that makes us quits.' She went to move away, because that was the sensible thing to do, and what she knew she must do. But somehow her feet seemed glued to the spot and Leon, his eyes holding hers, seemed to have quite liked the touch of her lips against his, because the next she knew, to her utter joy, he was gathering her into his arms.

'I'm not so sure that it does,' he murmured, and, his head coming closer, he again touched his lips to hers. `What do you think?' he asked, raising his head.

Varnie was by then feeling too bemused to think clearly about anything. 'Do-um- friends usually kiss like this?' she asked, knowing that it would be a bright idea to move out of his hold, but loving the feel of his arms around her too much to want to listen to any bright ideas.

She supposed Leon must have taken as encouragement that she was still standing there, for he smiled a slow kind of smile, a heartmelting kind of smile, and softly assured her, `Oh, yes, friends do.' And, to her delight, `More than friends kiss like this,' he added, and his head came down once more, and Varnie was on the receiving end of a kiss that was in no way platonic. She gasped from the thrill of it, and realised when he stood tall again that there was only one thing she could do. She did it. She placed her hands on his waist and told him impishly, if admittedly rather huskily, `You do that again, Mr Beaumont, and I won't be responsible for the consequences.'

He heard her out, and then laughed a warm, pleased, yet seductive laugh. And when his head came near she was not responsible for the consequences-she was quite unable to think straight anyhow as he gathered her closer to him. Her lips parted to receive his kiss, and as he accepted their delights, his own lips parting to enjoy hers, Varnie put her arms around him.

She held on to him, loving him with all of her heart. `Sweet Varnie,' he breathed, and, feeling her full response, deepened his kiss.

He held her yet closer to him, and she was enraptured to be held close up against his hard male body. `Leon!' she whispered shakily, and he pulled back to search her face.

`Problem?' he asked gently.

`Only when you stop,' she answered, and did not care a bit then that she might sound forward, because Leon grinned, as though enchanted by her, and claimed her mouth once more.

Ageless minutes ticked by where she was totally enthralled by Leon, by the kisses he gave and took. She was enthralled just to be in his arms, held near to the man who held her heart. She loved the touch of him, his lips, hishands, his kisses to her throat-she simply adored him.

As she adored too the way, after some gentle while, his hands at her waist began to explore the hem of the tee shirt she had on. He wanted more-and so did she. She clutched on to him when she felt his warm touch as his hands and fingers negotiated their way beneath her tee shirt.

She kissed him, to let him know she loved the feel of his touch on her ribcage, but held on to him tightly when that same touch, those same hands caressed their way to her breasts.

`Relax, sweet love,' Leon instructed. And, teasingly, `Or I shall have to stop.'

`Oh, Leon!' she cried, glorying in this sudden freedom, and kissed him again. And she had not the smallest objection to make when he unfastened her bra, the better to caress her. `Oh!' she exclaimed, as sensitive fingers traced over the hardened peaks of her breasts and sensitive palms supported and moulded the swollen globes. She placed her hands on his shoulders, dizzy with the riot of emotions he was creating in her-and a few moments later she could hardly believe that he had taken advantage of her raised arms to take her tee shirt from her.

`Oh!' she cried, in panic this time, and swiftly placed her hands over her breasts to hide them from his view.

But by then Leon had divested himself of his shirt, and her panic faded under the wonder of seeing his naked chest.

`I want-to touch you!' she gasped.

`Touch me, sweet Varnie,' he invited.

In the spell of the powerful emotions he had awakened in her, Varnie forgot all about her hands being the only cover to her breasts. And she stretched out both her hands-one to stroke andcaress the silken hair on his chest, that intriguingly formed a line down to the waistband of his trousers, the other to investigate his nipples. She stared at his chest in wonder.Then all of a sudden realised that Leon was looking his fill too, at her, when hoarsely he murmured, `Oh, sweetest love, you are just sensational.'

Colour rioted through her face, and she realised that it was forher, and not him, that he pulled her close and hid her breasts from his view. He kissed her again, gently at first,then all at once there was a new kind of element in his kiss, a passion that was building and building. And as that passion fired him to draw her against him, so the feel of her breast against his naked skin seemed to inflame him to a yet deeper passion.

When his lips left hers it was only so he could bend and touch his lips to the throbbing pink nub of her left breast while one hand teased and tormented the other.

`Oh, Leon,' she cried. `I've never felt like this before.'

`You want me?' he asked softly. `Yes,' she whispered shyly, and was drowning in yet more kisses, in yet deeper emotions, as his hands came to the fastening of her trousers.

Varnie kissed and clung to him, her heart racing at this new world she found herself in. Then her bare legs came into contact with his bare legs, and it was with wonder that she realised that as well as her trousers, Leon's trousers too had vanished.

'Leon...' She said his name as something she didn't think it was panic-started to attack her.

`Don't worry, my darling,' Leon instructed. 'I'll look after you.'

She looked into his eyes. They were warm, giving. And the thrill of being called his darling made the moments they were sharing magical beyond belief. So she smiled at him, giving him her absolute consent to take her wherever he chose.

And that place, a minute or so later, was to his bed. His mouth was over hers when he picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. And Varnie thought her heart would burst with her love for him when he kissed her, caressed her and rolled to her, and she felt his hard body over hers. Her legs parted of their own volition to give him comfort, and he slid between the welcoming warmth of her thighs, his eyes holding hers as he tenderly stroked down the side of her face. And she just had to tell him, `I want you so much. I never knew I could want...' Her voice trailed off.

`Sweet darling,' he breathed, and, considerately, `We'll take it slowly.' And with that he kissed her, so tenderly, so lovingly, that she almost could not bear it.