Don't Hurt Me (11 page)

  
Their bodies tangled briefly, her
dressing-gown falling open to reveal her nakedness beneath. She gave a sharp
cry of embarrassment, clutching at the material to cover herself again. But it
was too late. His gaze had swept over her like a bolt of summer lightning and
he grabbed at her wrists, drawing her body inexorably towards him.

  
‘God, you’re lovely,’ he said
huskily, his voice low in her ear. ‘Let me make love to you tonight.’

  
‘No,’ she moaned.

  
‘Why the hell not? I know you want
me.’ His hands slid upwards, cupping the bare swell of her breasts. They
stiffened in instant response and he gave a throaty laugh, kissing her neck as
they swayed together in the doorway. ‘You excite me so much.’

  
He was controlling her, holding her
still against him.

  
She closed her eyes as his mouth
took hers. His tongue pushed between her lips, probing and stroking with deep,
slow movements that mimicked the sexual act and made her stomach clench with
acute desire.

  
He drew back his head, watching as
she leant against him. She moaned softly, enjoying the pressure of his body.
God, she needed him.

  
‘Why sleep apart like this when we
could sleep together?’ he whispered. ‘I could give you so much pleasure,
Julia.’

  
‘And pain,’ she whispered back.

  
His smile disturbed her. ‘Is that
so terrible?’

  
‘Only when you treat women like
possessions, like objects. That’s what you do, isn’t it?’

  
He shook his head silently.

  
She shivered in his arms. ‘If I
give in to you, I’d just become another possession. You get your kicks out of
hurting women, don’t you?’

  
He made an angry noise under his
breath. ‘That’s your fantasy, perhaps. But it’s nothing to do with reality.
Yes, I can be rough in bed. But it’s done with full consent. The women who are
attracted to me tend to be the kind of women who enjoy that. Who actively want a
man to be a little … harsh with them.’ He bent his head and kissed her throat.
‘That doesn’t mean it goes beyond the bedroom.’

  
‘So what? You’d respect me outside
the bedroom, but treat me like a caveman behind closed doors?’

  
He lifted his head to stare at her,
eyes glittering. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Though I’m beginning to think I should just
drag you to bed by your hair.’

  
‘Charming.’

  
‘Listen to me for once, would you?
You’re not giving me a chance to explain. Let me show you who I really am.’

  
‘Shouldn’t you be saving all that
for Sasha?’ Her face flushed with sudden frustration as she stared up at him.
‘I mean, she is your girlfriend, isn’t she?’

  
‘
What
?’

  
‘Come on. It’s obvious you two are
an item.’

  
Marshall’s hands slipped to her
waist and tightened for a moment, confusion in the dark eyes. She had clearly
hit home with that remark. Then he took a sharp intake of breath and stepped
back, releasing her with a brusque note in his voice.

  
‘In the past, maybe. But not
anymore.’

  
‘Oh, please don’t bother lying. I
saw that kiss yesterday and it didn’t look particularly over to me.’

  
He shrugged, turning back into the
living room and reaching for the white towel to cover himself.

  
‘Believe what you must,’ he replied,
knotting the towel about his waist. ‘Sasha does still harbour feelings for me,
that much is true. But as far as I’m concerned, our relationship is finished
and has been for some months.’

  
With a shaky laugh, she retreated
to the safety of her bedroom and closed the door, shutting him out.

  
She was not going to allow a man
like that to insult her intelligence anymore. Did he have any idea how old that
line was? In spite of wishing she did not exist at all, her sympathy went out
to Sasha, innocent of what he was saying behind her back.

  
Wearily climbing back into bed,
Julia dragged the duvet over her head and closed her eyes, drained of energy
after that confrontation. But she simply could not seem to fall asleep again,
her mind going round and round what had happened like a train on a track.

  
She had said no for a second time
and he had accepted that. It was okay, the situation was over.

  
So why was she so upset, and why
was her body still trembling with desire?

CHAPTER
SIX

The two
teenagers had only just come downstairs for breakfast by the time they arrived
at Paul’s place, a tastefully restored Victorian house situated near the end of
a leafy suburban avenue. His mother invited them in, her voice low and slightly
flustered as she explained how the girl had turned up there in the middle of
the night, looking tired and bedraggled but otherwise unharmed. It was obvious
she was unhappy about her son’s recent suspension from school and did not
approve of Victoria’s behaviour in running away from home. A neat professional
woman in her forties, she discreetly did not mention any of that though,
ushering them into the house and offering them breakfast as though such things
were perfectly normal.

  
Victoria leapt up from the
breakfast table as they walked in, staring at Paul’s mother with an anguished
expression.

  
‘You told him where I was! How
could you?’

  
Marshall tensed at such a hostile
reception from his daughter but did not react, pushing his hands into his jeans
pockets with a deliberate restraint. His looming figure seemed out of place in
that ultra-modern kitchen with its gleaming black and chrome surfaces, Roman
blinds at the windows drawn up to let in the sunlight.

  
He paused before speaking as though
silently counting to ten, his jaw tight. ‘I want you to come home with me,
Victoria. Julia told me what you overheard but it was a misunderstanding. I’ve
actually arranged for you to leave the school and live with me from now on at
Moor’s Peak. Isn’t that what you wanted?’

  
‘Yes, but ... ’ The girl’s eyes
narrowed, moving suspiciously from him to Julia. ‘Is he telling the truth?’

  
She nodded, smiling. ‘What we
overheard was your dad arranging for you to go back to school and collect your
things, that was all. I tried to find you and explain, but you’d already gone.’

  
‘Well, I was angry!’

  
Julia touched her arm reassuringly.
‘It’s okay, no one’s blaming you for anything. But you ought to go home with
your father.’

  
The girl glanced across at her
friend, a look of uncertainty on her face. ‘What do you think I should do, Paul?’
she asked him, and her voice trembled.

  
The boy finished his mouthful of
jam-covered croissant and answered hurriedly. ‘They can’t make you go home if
you don’t want to, Vicky. You’re almost an adult now. You’ve got rights.’

  
Marshall had barely glanced at the
boy before but now he looked straight at him, his mouth tight. There was a
flash of anger in the tawny eyes as he spoke to him, his tone clipped but still
polite. ‘You must be Paul,’ he said, and waited for a reply that never came.
His voice hardened as he continued. ‘I’ve heard a little bit about you from my
daughter ... and your headmaster. Talking politics in your bedroom, wasn’t that
what got the two of you suspended?’

  
Looking distinctly uncomfortable
under that piercing gaze, the boy nodded. He sounded defensive and unsure. ‘We
weren’t doing anything wrong, there was no reason for him to suspend us. It’s
not fair. And it’s a stupid rule anyway, that girls can’t go into the boys’ dorms.
We were only talking - ’

  
‘Sh,’ his mother frowned at him,
but Marshall held up his hand, intervening.

  
‘It’s okay. I want to hear this.’

  
Paul shrugged, reddening slightly
as he realised that all eyes in the room were turned towards him. He was a tall
and rather lanky boy, physically awkward, his gestures abrupt and
uncoordinated. But Julia could see why Victoria had taken such a liking to him.
Paul was not going to be cowed into silence by her father’s presence, even
though he was clearly nervous of the older man.

  
‘We know Vicky shouldn’t have run
away. That was a bad move. But she just wants you to listen to her for once,
not keep packing her off to boarding school.’ The boy tripped over his words,
pausing to grimace and take a hurried gulp of his orange juice. ‘I like the
school, it can be a pretty cool place at times, but it’s not her sort of thing.
She’s more of a home bird. If you’d ever bothered to ask Vicky what she
actually wants, you might have found that out.’

  
His mother looked horrified. ‘These
are our guests, Paul. You can’t speak to guests like that. Apologise
immediately.’

  
‘There’s no need,’ Marshall shook
his head, turning his gaze from the boy to his daughter. There was an
uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice. ‘So what is it you want, Victoria?
You can’t keep running away like this, we’ve established that. And if you don’t
want to come back with me today, I won’t force you. But we have to reach a firm
decision about your future. You can’t stay here forever.’

  
Victoria looked at him in silence
for a few minutes, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. Then she muttered, ‘I’ll
go back with you.’

  
‘To Moor’s Peak?’

  
The girl nodded, swallowing hard.
‘But I still want to come up and see Paul during the holidays. He’s my best
friend.’

  
‘That can probably be arranged,’
Marshall agreed, glancing at Paul’s mother over his shoulder.

  
‘Are you coming back with us too,
Julia?’ Victoria asked shyly. ‘There’s a place just past the lake I meant to
show you, a secret island right in the middle of the stream, all hidden by moss
and creepers. It would make a great sketch for the book.’

  
Julia hesitated. ‘I’m not sure,’
she began awkwardly, not wanting to disappoint the girl, only to be interrupted
by Marshall.

  
‘Of course she’s coming back with
us,’ he said, blithely ignoring Julia’s furious sound of exasperation. ‘Now why
don’t you hurry up and grab your things? Since we’re in London, I thought you
might like a day out before heading back to the depths of Cornwall.’

  
His daughter’s face lit up.
‘Shopping?’

  
‘Why not? We could have lunch at
the Cafe Royale first, then suffer one of your exhausting treks down Oxford
Street, followed by a film at Leicester Square this evening.’

  
Marshall smiled at the girl’s
strangled whoop of delight. His eyes lifted to stare challengingly at Julia as
though perfectly aware how high-handed he was being and daring her to complain.
There was a hard amusement in his voice which she suspected to be aimed at her,
rather than his excited daughter.

  
‘You even get to pick which film,’
he added. ‘Though I ought to stress, there are limits.’

The
weather changed for the worse a few days later, rain driving in from the
Atlantic coast and a stiff wind following. Tramping out over the Cornish fields
with her sketchbook, Julia would return to Moor’s Peak soaked to the skin most
days, exhausted and bedraggled, eventually accepting the offer of an old
plastic mackintosh that Marshall had found for her. The raincoat felt huge and
was not particularly flattering, but at least it kept her dry. She was able to
sit by the lake in it and sketch for several hours without too much discomfort,
usually until the rain managed to trickle through some tiny gap at the neck or
sleeve, leaving her too cold and uncomfortable to continue.

  
Seeing how bored Vicky had become,
unable to start at her new local school until the following week, Julia offered
to accompany the teenager to Truro for a day out. Marshall drove them both into
the city centre and then disappeared to the library, leaving them to do some shopping
on their own before lunch.

  
Julia had never been to Truro
before and was pleasantly surprised by the range of shops and the beauty of its
cathedral, dominating a small cobbled square in the city centre. Window
displays were already proclaiming the approach of the festive season, decked
out in Christmas lights and tinsel-covered trees, the streets crowded with
shoppers keen to buy their Christmas gifts before the December rush.

  
Breathless and excited, Vicky
dragged her into shop after shop in
 
the main pedestrianised area of the city. Her father had given her some
money to buy new clothes and she seemed determined to try on as many outfits as
possible before making a final choice.

  
‘This would really suit you,’
Victoria said enthusiastically, holding up a white peasant-style top in one
clothes shop. ‘Why don’t you try it on? It’s a little bit expensive but I think
you’d look great in it.’

  
They went into the communal
changing rooms together, Victoria bringing with her an armful of possible
outfits. Not sure she wanted to spend quite so much money on an impulse buy,
Julia slipped off her t-shirt to try on the expensive white top. It laced up
loosely at the front, with a significant amount of cleavage revealed as the
material sloped seductively off both shoulders.

  
It was not her usual style, she
thought warily, inspecting herself in the wall-to-wall mirrors. She tended to
prefer a more casual approach to clothes - denim jeans and t-shirts, most days
- but in a sudden fit of daring, she decided to buy it anyway.

  
Heading back along the main
shopping street, both of them laden down with handfuls of shopping bags, she
asked Vicky if she wanted to take a quick look around Truro cathedral before
meeting Marshall for lunch at the arranged time.

  
The teenager rolled her eyes at the
suggestion and shook her head. ‘No thanks. Besides, I still need to get some
earrings to match that dress,’ she pointed out. ‘You go ahead, I’ll meet you
and dad at the cafe in half an hour.’

  
‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’

  
Victoria made a face, giving her a
push in the direction of the cathedral. ‘Really, you’re worse than my dad at
times. I’m a big girl, you don’t have to babysit me every minute of the day.’

  
Laughing, they both went their
separate ways, the teenager diving back into the throng of shoppers and Julia
making her way slowly across the cobbled square towards the cathedral.

  
It was cool and bright inside the
magnificent stone building, its hushed atmosphere a perfect antidote to the
chaotic streets of Truro. There were only a few worshippers lighting candles or
sitting down to pray, a handful of tourists drifting between the columns. Julia
wandered around for a while, reading the inscriptions on the stone wall and
craning her neck to admire the beautiful artistry of its stained glass windows.
Then she slipped into an empty seat near the door of the cathedral and sat
there in silence for a few minutes.

  
She would be going home to London
soon. Oddly, in spite of her tense relationship with Marshall, she was not
looking forward to it. She had lived alone for so long she had forgotten how
enjoyable it was to have constant company. It lifted her spirits just to hear
Victoria giggling, especially when Marshall was in one of his darker moods and
the house felt more like a prison than a home.

  
Concentrating on the rows of
candles that had been lit near the altar, each one representing a personal
prayer or wish, Julia tried not to consider whether she would also miss the
girl’s father. It had been such a terrible mistake, succumbing to the physical
attraction between them, but it was over now. Since coming back from London he
had not attempted to touch or kiss her again, barely even acknowledging her
presence at times, as though he had grown tired of the game and was now merely
waiting for her to leave.

  
Lighting her own candle before she
left, Julia slipped back out into the wintry streets to find the Truro Museum
cafe, where they had agreed to meet for lunch. Even though the city was
unfamiliar to her, she had little difficulty in finding the place; Marshall’s
directions were excellent and the stately museum facade was easily
identifiable.

  
When she saw Marshall was already
in the cafe, waiting for her at a corner table, she glanced guiltily down at
her watch. Time must have passed more quickly that she realised.

  
The tawny eyes surveyed her with a
flicker of impatience. ‘You’re late. Why do women always take so long shopping
for clothes?’

  
‘To avoid buying the wrong outfit,’
she said, pulling out the chair opposite him and glancing quickly through the
menu. ‘Wow, this all looks delicious. Though we probably ought to wait until
Vicky gets here before ordering our meals.’

  
‘Where is she?’

  
His tone nettled her and she
answered more sharply than she had intended. ‘Calm down, she’s only gone to
find some earrings.’

  
‘I thought you were shopping
together,’ he said, staring grimly over her shoulder at the cafe entrance as
though willing his daughter to appear.