The Secret Kiss of Darkness (25 page)

Kayla punched him playfully on the arm. ‘Don’t be silly. This is nothing special.’

‘You could have fooled me.’

‘You don’t think my skirt is too short?’ Kayla asked, remembering Mike’s horrified look when she’d arrived at his parents’ party. She didn’t want to embarrass Wes in front of his friends.

‘Are you kidding? Definitely not. With legs like that how could it possibly be too short?’

Kayla felt her cheeks heat up again. ‘Why, thank you.’

To Kayla’s great relief Wes’s friends turned out to live in what she would term a far more normal house than Marcombe Hall. It was a large Victorian terraced house on the outskirts of Totnes and Kayla thought it was lovely. She told their hostess, Sarah, as much.

‘Thank you. Peter and I are very pleased with it now that all the builders have finally finished. But don’t they take an age! I honestly thought they’d moved in here with us.’ Sarah laughed and led the way into the sitting room where Kayla was introduced to several other people, all equally charming and all very pleased to see Wes with a woman by the look of things.

‘It’s about time he came out of his shell,’ one older woman whispered in Kayla’s ear. ‘Do him a world of good to forget about the divorce.’ Kayla didn’t want to spoil their pleasure by telling them she and Wes weren’t a couple. It was easier just to smile and nod.

Dinner was excellent and the wine flowed freely. Kayla relaxed and for the first time in weeks she felt truly alive again. She joined in the conversation and was accepted into Wes’s circle of friends without hesitation. Her neighbours at the table vied with one another to tell her stories about him, and she laughed at youthful follies and mishaps. From time to time she glanced across to where he sat, and more often than not she found him looking at her, a strange expression in his eyes. It made her warm all over and she squirmed in her seat.

Wes couldn’t take his eyes off Kayla. From the moment she’d swept down the grand stairs into the hall at Marcombe he’d been in a daze. She looked absolutely stunning, her outfit sexy and sophisticated all at once. The only problem was he’d have liked to rip it off her then and there.

Peter and the others ribbed him about his new ‘conquest’ and he went along with their joshing, taking it in his stride. Underneath, however, he found himself wishing they were right. He’d be proud to call Kayla his and he was sure now that she’d never behave the way Caro had. If Kayla had a child she would love both the baby and its father. She had a big heart with room to spare. There was no selfishness, no petty jealousy, no attention seeking.

She was beautiful outside and in.

He caught her eyes across the table and thought he saw an answering gleam. Could she tell how much he wanted her? Did it scare her? Or did she want him too?

He needed to find out, but not here, not now. He’d have to be patient.

It was the longest dinner party he’d ever attended.

They took a taxi back to Marcombe as they’d both had too much wine. In the darkness of the back seat Wes took her hand and twined his fingers with hers. Kayla didn’t resist. It felt right, safe and exciting at the same time and sent little sparks shooting up her arm. They didn’t speak, but the simple enjoyment of holding hands was enough for the moment.

‘Would you like a drink?’ Wes asked her when they were safely back at the Hall. ‘I’ve had such a good time, I don’t really want the evening to end yet.’

‘Me neither. A drink would be nice, thank you.’ She followed him into a small sitting room at the back of the hall and he produced two glasses of amber liquid.

‘Do you like brandy? I’m told my ancestors always bought the very best, the smuggled stuff.’

Kayla tried not to smile. Jago’s cargo, of course. ‘It’s not really my thing, but right now I’ll drink anything.’ She leaned on the fireplace and took a sip. The warm liquor burned all the way down, but a pleasant feeling spread rapidly through her veins. ‘It’s not bad actually. I can see why it was so sought after.’ She held it up to the light to study the rich colour.

‘It’s wonderful. Just like you were this evening.’ Kayla looked at him, startled. ‘My friends all liked you.’ Wes smiled. ‘You have no idea how many times I was told what a lucky dog I was to have such a date.’

‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to be ashamed of me.’

‘I could never be that.’ Wes put his glass down and came to stand in front of her. ‘Kayla, I’ve tried to fight it for weeks, but I have to admit I’m incredibly attracted to you. I know it’s wrong since I’m your boss and I’m probably too old for you, but … it’s driving me crazy, so I have to ask. Do you think you could ever feel the same way about me?’

Kayla felt her eyes grow huge with wonder.
At last!
For an answer she put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. ‘Definitely,’ she murmured.

It was Wes’s turn to look surprised, but he quickly recovered and put his arms round her, tightening the embrace. The pirate grin appeared in response to the smile she gave him, sending a shock wave through her. How she loved it when he looked like that. She’d never tire of it. He stared into her eyes, as if he was giving her one last chance to run away, but she knew she didn’t want to. No way. Right here was where she wished to be.

Wes bent to kiss her. Softly at first, asking permission with actions, not words. When she didn’t protest, his kisses soon grew more demanding and Kayla responded in equal measure, seizing her chance this time. She wasn’t about to throw it away again that was for sure. They kissed for what seemed a very long time and desire built up inside her, making her legs shaky and her whole body fizz with awareness of him. She craved more of his touch and when his hands began to stroke her back, then move lower down, she sighed with satisfaction. He cupped her bottom with both hands and pushed her closer, which made her wriggle slightly, and she heard him groan.

‘Oh God, Kayla, I want you so much,’ he whispered between kisses, ‘have wanted you for ages. Ever since I saw you in that ugly pink bathing suit, in fact.’ She clung to him as delicious sensations assailed her from every part of her body.

‘Take me upstairs, Wes,’ she whispered back in a husky voice she hardly recognised as her own, and he didn’t need to be asked twice. With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted her into his arms and headed for the door. She bent to open it with a giggle, and turned out the light as they passed through on their way into the hall. Up the stairs he carried her, despite her protests that she was quite capable of walking.

‘I can’t wait that long,’ he answered, striding down the corridor in a tearing hurry. They passed her door and entered his bedroom, and within minutes they had shed their clothing without even bothering to turn the lights on. Wes backed her up towards the bed, kissing her like there was no tomorrow, and then they fell onto the soft mattress.

Kayla had never wanted anyone with such fierce passion. It was almost frightening in its intensity, but it felt right. And so did Wes. Although they were both impatient and almost shaking with desire, he took his time and made love to her tantalisingly slowly, making sure she was with him all the way. Kayla had never experienced anything like it. She never wanted it to stop.

She told him so afterwards, when her breathing was returning to normal and her pulse rate had calmed down slightly. He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, enclosing them both in a cocoon of duvets. ‘It doesn’t have to stop, you know. We have all night,’ he whispered.

Kayla smiled into the dark. He was right. And she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The door to the nursery at Marcombe Hall opened silently on well-oiled hinges and a woman stepped inside and looked around. Jago had been pacing back and forth, rocking his small son in his arms and crooning to him softly. Now he stopped his perambulations and bowed to the lady.

‘You must be Lady Marcombe’s sister,’ he said, speaking in a near whisper so as not to wake the little boy.

‘Yes, I’m Sophie Wesley. And you are …?’

‘Jago Kerswell.’ He bowed once more. ‘I assume the lawyer told you who I am?’

She inclined her head in acknowledgement and he noticed she had the same ash-blonde hair as her late sister, but there the resemblance ended. Sophie had none of Eliza’s beauty, not even the hazel-green eyes. She looked just what Jago knew her to be, a plain spinster in her early thirties. There was intelligence lurking in her eyes, however, and something else, humour perhaps. She didn’t look down her nose at him and he warmed to her immediately. Eliza had spoken highly of her, telling him Sophie had a kind heart and the patience of a saint. She would need both now, he thought.

Jago held out the sleeping baby to her. ‘Here is your nephew, ma’am. And mine, as the lawyer may have mentioned,’ he added.

She took the bundle from him and gazed at the tiny scrap of humanity nestled within. ‘Oh, he’s adorable,’ she sighed. ‘You have no idea how I’ve longed for—’ She stopped abruptly and, to hide the blush spreading over her features, buried her face near the baby’s. His heart went out to her, a woman so suited to being a mother, yet she’d never been given the chance.

‘You will take care of him? And make your home here?’ Jago couldn’t quite keep the anxiety out of his voice. He had wondered if he’d done the right thing in making this woman little Wesley’s joint guardian, but he’d been unable to think of anyone else suitable. And Eliza had told him how Sophie was used to caring for her nephews and nieces since she herself was never expected to marry. Without either beauty or a dowry poor Sophie had had no hope of that.

Sophie looked up. ‘Oh, yes. I will look after him as if he were my own, I promise you. And living here will be heaven after … well, after going from place to place in a never-ending round of visits to my siblings. At last I can settle down.’

‘Good. He will need love having lost both parents.’

She gave him a searching look. ‘Both parents? If I don’t miss my guess he still has one left.’

‘Miss Wesley, I—’

‘Sophie, please, since we’re in this together. And there’s no need to explain anything to me. I may be plain, Mr Kerswell, but I have never been dim-witted and Eliza’s letters were rather transparent. As long as you help me raise this child, I shall never ask any questions nor give away your secret.’

‘Thank you. You’re very understanding.’ He reached out to caress the downy head of his son. ‘And my name is Jago.’

‘Jago,’ she repeated with a nod. ‘We’ll do our best for this little one. And it will be enough.’

Late morning sunlight was pouring in through half-open curtains when Kayla finally surfaced the next day and she found herself alone in a huge sleigh bed. Wes was nowhere to be seen and she wondered if he already regretted last night. She had thought he might have changed his mind and would be open to the possibility of a permanent relationship. But perhaps it meant nothing more to him than a one-night stand?

No, that wasn’t the impression he’d given her at all.

Suddenly restless, Kayla opened her eyes fully and checked the time. ‘Jesus!’ Half past eleven. How was that possible? She never slept that late normally. She sat up in bed, absently combing out her hair with her fingers … and came face to face with Eliza.

The enormous portrait hung over the fireplace directly opposite Wes’s bed and Kayla recognised her immediately, both from the style of painting and from Jago’s description. It had to be her. It couldn’t be anyone else. Shock and elation washed over her, making her gasp and draw in a deep breath, then slowly she smiled.

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

Intrigued she swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded over to peer at Eliza more closely. ‘So that’s where you were hiding,’ she whispered. ‘No wonder I couldn’t find you, I never thought to look in here. Wes must like you too since he hung your portrait in his bedroom.’ But why hadn’t he mentioned this painting when she asked him if he had other Gainsboroughs? Maybe it wasn’t signed? She looked in the corner of the canvas expecting it to be blank, but there was a clear signature just as Jago had told her. So Wes must have known. Kayla frowned.

Near the signature the artist had painted one half of an open book with part of a verse from a Shakespeare sonnet printed on it:
‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
 
…’
Kayla whistled softly. So that’s what Jago had meant – the other half of the same book was in the corner of his portrait. She remembered it clearly and if the two were put next to each other they would fit together perfectly. He’d been right, she was the owner of a genuine Gainsborough.

He had also been right about something else – Eliza was indeed absolutely lovely. Her simple green dress blended in with her surroundings to the point that it was difficult to make out where the gown ended and nature began, but it didn’t matter because the viewer’s gaze was immediately drawn to Eliza’s face, which was quite simply radiant.

‘I see what you mean, Jago,’ Kayla whispered. And no doubt that look of supreme happiness was because Jago had been nearby when the painting was done. For a short period of her life Eliza had been happy.

Kayla felt sadness well up inside her for the way the poor woman’s life had ended. Thrown off a cliff, never to see her newborn son or the love of her life again. And yet, if Jago was right, she, Kayla, had the power to reunite them and now that she’d found Eliza the time had come to put this to the test. It was an awe-inspiring thought and Kayla needed to think how best to broach the subject with Wes.

First things first, however. She couldn’t speak to him about anything until she found him and there was also the small matter of last night. Would he still want her this morning? There was only one way to find out. Either way, she needed a shower. Not to mention some breakfast, or should that be brunch? A loud rumbling noise from her stomach made her opt for the latter first. She picked up one of Wes’s large T-shirts and pulled it on, together with her pants, then headed for the kitchens.

‘You’ve been keeping secrets from me, haven’t you?’

A soft pair of arms sneaked round Wes’s middle from behind and he almost dropped the piece of toast he was just fishing out of the toaster.

‘Kayla! I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.’ He turned and hugged her back, shivering with desire when he noticed that she wasn’t wearing anything under the T-shirt she’d appropriated. He only had on a pair of tracksuit bottoms himself so her breasts pressed against his naked chest, the thin material between them just adding an extra frisson when they moved. He kissed her, but although she returned his kiss with enthusiasm, she soon pulled away and wagged a finger at him.

‘No more until you tell me the truth. Why do you have a Gainsborough in your bedroom? And why on earth didn’t you tell me about it?’

‘Oh, that.’ Wes had forgotten about her quest and right now he’d rather concentrate on other, more pleasurable pursuits. But he could see she was determined to have an answer and the sooner he gave her one, the faster he could get back to ravishing her. Perhaps right here in the kitchen? The thought made him smile.

‘Wes!’ She prodded him. ‘Spill.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s been a family secret for ages. I’m not sure who started it, but it was decided we wouldn’t tell anyone the portrait existed. That way thieves wouldn’t be tempted to steal it and our insurance premiums could be kept to a minimum. As far as I know, it’s always hung in the master bedroom – hardly anyone ever goes in there except for trusted staff. I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell you when you first came and later on I forgot you were even interested, to be honest.’ He kissed her throat and nibbled at her shoulder, pushing the overlarge T-shirt out of the way. ‘I kind of had other things on my mind, you know.’

‘Hmm. Well, I guess I’ll forgive you then, but are you sure you want to …?’

The rest of what she’d been going to say was lost as he put his mouth on hers, silencing her. Talking could wait until later as far as he was concerned and she soon agreed.

They made love on the kitchen table, of all places, something Kayla had never done before. None of her previous partners had ever been that adventurous, but Wes seemed to want her anywhere, any time, which was a heady feeling and increased her own enjoyment no end.

‘What about Nell?’ she managed to ask, before surrendering totally to the swirls of desire surging through her.

‘I found a note from Annie saying she’d taken Nell down to her cottage,’ Wes murmured between kisses and Kayla gave herself up to the sensations that were building up inside her yet again. She couldn’t seem to get enough of this man and his every touch excited her. It was sheer bliss.

After a leisurely brunch and some time spent reading the Sunday papers in companionable silence, Wes wanted to go for a swim, but Kayla was too exhausted for that.

‘Haven’t you had enough exercise for one day?’ she teased.

‘There are different kinds,’ he’d countered. ‘And I can see I’m going to have to stay in shape now.’

‘Well, I’m having a shower. See you in a while?’

‘Absolutely.’ The smile he gave her almost made her relent and go with him, but she desperately wanted to shower and change, so she headed upstairs.

She went into Wes’s room first and stared at the portrait for a while. ‘I’m so glad you’re not lost,’ she whispered, wondering whether Eliza would start talking to her as well. The woman in the painting remained immobile, however, and with a sigh, Kayla began to pick up bits of her clothing, which seemed to have ended up all over the room. The tights were missing, but as they had been ripped anyway, she decided to forget about them.

On close inspection of the panelling, she found the connecting door to her bedroom and unlocked it. Kayla went through into her room, leaving the little door slightly ajar in case Wes should come back, and went to the bathroom. She emerged a short while later after a refreshingly hot shower and walked over towards the huge wardrobe to find some clean clothes.

There she came to an abrupt halt and frowned. The door to the wardrobe stood open, but she could clearly remember closing it the night before. Someone had been in her room again. Her heart made a somersault and she hurried to check what had been shredded this time.

Nothing was torn or even out of place, but there was a strange smell coming from the depths of the wardrobe. Kayla stuck her head in and wrinkled her nose. ‘Phew, what’s that?’ She took a cautious step inside and trod on something soft. It was Nell’s favourite teddy bear, Alfie.

Kayla bent to pick it up, then went further into the wardrobe. The back panel wasn’t quite in place and there was a musty smelling draft coming from that direction. On closer inspection it proved to be a door. A cleverly concealed one. At last she understood.

‘Of course,’ she muttered to herself. ‘A secret entrance.’ For the smugglers perhaps? Or just the inhabitants of the house? No wonder people could come in and out of her room without being seen. But who? And what was Nell’s teddy bear doing here? Unless … ‘Oh, no!’ Panic-stricken, Kayla rushed out of the wardrobe and started to throw on clothes willy-nilly – some pants and socks, a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, then a sweater. Nell had gone through the panel, whether alone or not she had no idea, and her only thought was that she had to go after her. Nell might be in danger and maybe it wasn’t too late.

Hastily sticking her feet into a pair of trainers, Kayla pushed open the back panel door fully and found a set of stairs leading downwards. She didn’t hesitate, but went down into the dark. When she reached the bottom, she could see the vague outline of another door and felt along the wall for a handle of some sort. It took a while, but her fingers eventually encountered an old-fashioned latch, which she lifted. The door opened on what must be newly oiled hinges, as it didn’t make a sound, and Kayla found herself outside the house. Looking back she could see why no one had noticed the opening. It blended in perfectly with the stonework around it. She pushed it to, but didn’t close it completely, just in case she’d need to get back in again.

She looked around and noticed a trail in the wet grass. It had rained during the night and it was clear that someone had walked away from this door in one direction only. She hesitated. Should she go and get Wes? But he might still be in the pool and then it would be ages before they could leave. Something told her time was of the essence and she decided to go with her gut instinct. She set off, following the trail towards the coast.

Where was Nell? And why would she have gone this way? She had to find her. It was the only thing she could think of. Everything else faded into insignificance.

It wasn’t until much later that she remembered the Gypsy’s warning. ‘
Beware dark places and stairs. Keep away from the darkness.’