Betrayed. Part 7

'Well, we can give it a go,' he said, looking at her over his shoulder. 'Come on. We'll go and find out.'

Olivia's eyes widened. 'Now?'

'Why not?'

'Urn"no reason,' murmured, Olivia, torn between the knowledge that being late was only going to add to her problems, and the undoubted excitement of spending a little more time in his company. 'I"all right.'

The bicycle was secured, half in and half out of the boot, and then Matthew thrust open the pa.s.senger door for Olivia to get into the car. In the steamy, confined atmosphere of the Mini, she was intensely conscious of his nearness, but there was little time for misgivings as Matthew rocketed the little car down the road to the village. Clearly the accident he had just averted meant nothing to him. He seemed to regard speed as an essential part of driving, and to Olivia, used to her father's rather more sedate pace, it was marvellously stimulating.

Sam Pollack looked at her strangely as Matthew explained what had happened, and Olivia sighed. The Pollacks serviced the farm machinery, and Sam Pollack knew perfectly well who she was, and how old she was. It would be just too embarra.s.sing if he chose to treat her like a child, she thought frustratedly.

But Sam apparently cared more for Matthew's good will than the opportunity to make her feel small, and although he obviously had an opinion he kept it to himself. He agreed that he probably could straighten the wheel, but it would take a couple of days, and he couldn't guarantee success.

'Well, do your best, Sam,' said Matthew, as Olivia's heart sank at the delay. She had hoped that, by some miracle, the bike could have been repaired immediately. As it was, she would have to go home without it and explain what she had done.

'Something wrong?' asked Matthew, as they walked across Pollack's yard to where the Mini was waiting. 'Don't worry. Sam will do a good job. If he can't repair it, he'll put on a new wheel.'

'A new wheel!' Olivia was horrified. 'Oh, but----'

'I'll pay for it, of course,' Matthew added soothingly. 'It was my fault you had the accident. It's the least I can do.'

Olivia shook her head. 'I don't think----'

'I insist,' said Matthew, swinging open his door, as if to get into the car, and then pausing, when he realised Olivia wasn't following his example. 'Come on. I'l run you home.'

Olivia swallowed. 'You will?'

Matthew pulled a face at her. 'Well, it is getting dark,' he pointed out drily. 'You surely don't expect me to leave you to walk back to the farm?'

Olivia still hesitated. 'You know where I live?' she asked, in confusion.

'Of course.' Matthew folded his length into the car, and thrust open her door from inside. 'Get in. It's freezing out there.'

Olivia did so, but cautiously, looking at him with vaguely anxious eyes, and Matthew sighed. 'What did you expect? That I wouldn't know where you lived? Olivia" Liv? Can I call you that? I've known all about you, since that summer you pulled my dog out of the river.'

Olivia's father was not best pleased when his daughter arrived home in Matthew's car, but his respect for the Ryans prevented him from making too much of the incident. Besides, Matthew insisted on going in with her, and explaining that what had happened had been all his fault, and even her grandmother had to concede that Olivia was not to blame.

And, although Olivia thought that that would be the end of the affair, it wasn't. Two days later, her bike was delivered to her, as good as new, and the next weekend Matthew himself appeared, ostensibly to a.s.sure himself that all was well.

He arrived as the family were about to sit down to Sunday lunch, and Olivia's mother invited him to join them. 'It's so seldom we have visitors,' she exclaimed, and Olivia remembered how her mother had looked at her as she made the suggestion.

Almost as if she had known that Matthew's reasons for being there had little to do with checking up on Sam Pollack's repair.

Of course, her grandmother didn't approve, but in spite of her illness Felicity Stoner was still mistress in her own home, and Matthew needed no second invitation. He shared their roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with every indication of enjoying it, and afterwards, he helped Olivia wash up, as if doing so was something he did every day of his life.

And it was while they were alone in the kitchen, that he asked her to Rycroft the following weekend. 'I'm having a party,' he said. 'Just a few of the students from college, and one or two people from around here who you'll probably know already.'

Olivia didn't know what to say. She desperately wanted to go, but she suspected her parents would never agree to it. Not unless she could persuade them that Matthew's parents had invited her.

'Doesn't it appeal to you?' Matthew was asking, and she shook her head before dipping her hands back into the soapy water.

'It's not that.'

'Then what is it?'

'Oh----' Olivia lifted her shoulders. 'I don't know if"if my father will let me come. Perhaps, if your mother----'

'My parents are away,' said Matthew flatly. 'They're down in the Caribbean, enjoying the sunshine. That's why I'm having the party this coming weekend. They're due back the following Tuesday.'

'Oh.' Olivia bent her head, her hair, which in those days she wore in a single braid, dipping over one shoulder. 'Well, it's very kind of you to ask me, but----'

'You're not going to turn me down, are you?' Matthew gazed at her appealingly. 'Hey"I only organised this party so I'd have an excuse for seeing you again!'

Olivia's face flamed. 'That's not true!'

'It is true.' Matthew put the tea-towel he had been holding down, and came to stand next to her. 'I want to see you again.'

He lifted his hand and brushed a tendril of silky blonde hair back from her forehead. 'Don't you want to see me, too?'

Olivia swallowed. 'I"well"yes.' Her experiences with boys of her own age had hardly prepared her for Matthew's practised approach. 'But"I"my father's very strict.'

'You mean he doesn't trust me?'

'I"not exactly.'

Olivia was on unsure ground here. She had the feeling her father wouldn't like to think she was implying that he didn't trust his landlord's son. But, at the same time, she knew Robert Stoner was unlikely to approve of her attending a party, particularly at Rycroft. And particularly if Matthew's parents weren't there.

Matthew's hand dropped from her temple, his knuckles grazing her cheek in pa.s.sing. 'OK,' he said, his grey eyes warmly intent. 'So, I'll scrub the idea of a party. Do you think he'd let me take you to the pictures in Abbot's Norton instead?'

Olivia stared at him. 'But why?' she asked impulsively, unable to believe he really did want to take her out, and Matthew pulled a face.

'You're not supposed to ask questions like that,' he remarked, propping his hips against the sink beside her. 'Why do you think?

Because I like you, and I want to spend some time with you.'

Olivia shook her head a little disbelievingly. 'But" you know lots of girls.'

Matthew shrugged. 'So?'

'More"suitable"girls,'

appended Olivia, trying to concentrate on the saucepan she was scouring, which wasn't easy, with Matthew's thigh brushing hers. 'Like" Helen Berrenger, for example.'

'If you don't want to see me again, just say so,' said Matthew drily. 'There's no need for this elaborate charade. I can take it.'

Olivia turned her head to look at him. He was looking at her, and for a few moments they just stared at one another. And then, very gently, he took hold of her wrist and pulled her towards him, and his mouth brushed hers once, then twice, and then more urgently, as her lips parted.

As a first kiss it was pretty intense, and Matthew was breathing rather heavily when he drew back. 'Does that mean you'll come?' he asked huskily, his thumb stroking across her mouth, and Olivia thought unsteadily that wild horses wouldn't keep her away.

Of course, it wasn't easy to begin with. Although Matthew had gained her father's permission to take Olivia to the cinema on that first occasion, subsequent meetings were harder to arrange.

Robert Stoner had not been able to deny Matthew's request when it was made personally, but finding reasons why Olivia couldn't see him again were simpler to contrive.

And in this undertaking he was ably a.s.sisted by his mother.

Harriet Stoner made her disapproval of the relationship plain, and Olivia's father used this to reinforce his own opinion that the a.s.sociation should not continue.

'I don't know what Lady Lavinia would say, if she knew,' he declared, when Olivia asked if she could attend a rally-cross meeting with Matthew, on his next free weekend. 'Livvy, people like us don't get involved with people like the Ryans. Young Matthew's just attracted by a pretty face, that's all. And I'm not having you become the talk of the village, getting into trouble of that sort.' 'Of what sort?'

Olivia was indignant, and when her father flushed with embarra.s.sment her grandmother clicked her tongue. 'You know of what sort, Livvy Stoner!' she retorted, her narrow face harsh with impatience. 'You're not a child, for all you act like one sometimes. The likes of Matthew Ryan are not for you. You know it, and he knows it. And mark my words, he's only taking you out because he thinks you're easy game!'

CHAPTER SEVEN.

But Olivia didn't believe either of them. Maybe she had been rather naive in that respect, she admitted now, but events had proved that her trust in Matthew had not been misplaced. Far from keeping their a.s.sociation a secret from his family, Olivia had become a regular visitor at Rycroft, and although she had never felt entirely at home with his mother she had learned to hold her own with the young people the Ryans cultivated.

So far as her relationship with Matthew was concerned, that had quickly accelerated. Although she had worried that the difference in their ages might prove a problem, it hadn't. After all, she had turned seventeen just a few months later, and with the added year had come an added maturity. It had given her the confidence to stand up to both her father and her grandmother, and, looking back on it now, she realised her mother had always been her strongest ally. Her mother...

Forcing that thought aside, Olivia remembered how Matthew used to take her out in his car, his 'hot' Mini, as he laughingly used to call it. Hot, in more ways than one, she reflected ruefully.

When they were together, Matthew had only had to touch her for her blood to turn to liquid fire.

And that had proved a problem, she conceded, recalling the necking sessions they had had in Matthew's car. Until Matthew, her experience of s.e.x had been confined to wet kisses after the village disco, and fighting off any boy who tried to go further.

But with Matthew she found she didn't want to fight him off, and what usually began as a casual touching of mouths rapidly turned to a pa.s.sionate embrace.

She knew Matthew had tried to keep control of the situation.

Once, he had even broken off in the middle of a particularly sensuous exchange, and got out of the car and left her. But the truth was, she had been as guilty as Matthew of wanting more than he was giving her, and every time they were together the temptation got stronger and stronger.

One evening in early October, Matthew took her for a meal in Salisbury. It was in the nature of a farewell treat. The following day he was returning to university, and although he had every intention of spending every free weekend at home, for the past three months they had been together every day. Consequently the separation was going to be that much harder, and Olivia was not looking forward to all those empty evenings.

They drove home slowly, parking, as they usually did, overlooking the river, and the weir where they had first exchanged the retriever puppy. Sandy was a working dog now, of course, but he had occasionally accompanied them on outings to Salisbury Plain, or the coast. Tonight, of course, he was not with them, but Olivia couldn't help feeling grateful to him for his part in their relationship.

It was late, but it wasn't totally dark. The moon had risen, and the car was illuminated by its silvery light. Sufficiently so for Matthew to see Olivia's wistful expression, and he bent his head to nuzzle her ear with his lips.

'Cheer up,' he said huskily. 'I'll be back in five days.'

'Five days!' said Olivia, sighing, and turning to look at him.

Her hand cupped his jaw. 'That sounds like a lifetime.'

'I know.' Matthew turned his mouth against her palm. 'But it will pa.s.s, believe me. And at the end of this coming year I'll have my degree.'

'Mmm.' Olivia brushed her thumb across his lower lip, and when his lips parted she rubbed the sensitive inner side. 'And then, I suppose, you'l go and live in London. Didn't you say that's what you wanted to do?'

'I said we'd go and live in London,' corrected Matthew, taking hold of her thumb, and biting the pad. 'Why are you being so negative? What has your father been saying now?'

Olivia bent her head. 'What does he usually say?' she asked resignedly. 'You know he doesn't approve of our friendship. I dare say both he and my grandmother will consider your return to college as the end of our relationship. They've already told me that you probably know girls at college who have far more in common with you than I do.'

'Oh, G.o.d! Matthew's hand at her nape turned her face up to his. 'Now, you don't believe that, do you?'

Olivia lifted her shoulders. 'No. Yes. I don't know.' She was confused, and unhappy, and Matthew closed his eyes for a moment, against the haunted beauty of hers.

'Don't do this to me, Liv,' he groaned, bringing her head forward, and resting his forehead against hers. 'You know how I feel about you. I've never made any secret of it. I'm not saying I haven't dated girls in London; of course I have. But none of them meant anything to me. And since you and I started going out together"well, there's been no one else, and you know it.'

'Do I?' Olivia looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, the tip of her tongue appearing to moisten her upper lip.

'Yes.' Matthew looked impatient now. 'G.o.d, what are you saying? That you don't believe me? I swear to you, I've not dated anyone else since I took you home that afternoon your bike was damaged. And that's the truth.'

Olivia caught her lower lip between her teeth. 'But Gran said----'

She broke off, but Matthew wouldn't let her finish there. 'Go on,' he said harshly. 'What did she say? I know she doesn't like me, so it won't come as any surprise.'

Olivia hesitated. 'It's not important.'

'If it comes between you and me, it is important,' retorted Matthew fervently. He cupped her face between his hands, and brushed her mouth with his. 'Go on. You can tell me. Who am I supposed to have seen?'

Olivia moved her chin out of his hands. 'It wasn't that.'

'Then what was it?'

'I can't say.'

'Can't? Or won't?' enquired Matthew disgustedly. Then, as if realising what was happening, he uttered a coa.r.s.e oath. 'Can't you see what she's doing to us? She's making us fight with each other!'

'No, she's not.'

But Olivia was scared that he was right, even if she didn't say so. His lean, attractive face was so full of frustration that, abandoning her anxieties, she looped her arms around his neck, and brought his lips to hers. Then, opening her mouth against his, as he had taught her to do, she tentatively sought his tongue with her own.

Matthew didn't respond at first, but when Olivia loosened first her coat and then his leather jacket, and pressed herself against him, his resistance failed. Forcing her back against the seat, he thrust his tongue into her mouth with half-angry aggression. It was as if he needed to prove to himself, as well as to her, that he could still control the situation, but for once his plan backfired. The silky cavern of her mouth, the sensuous brush of her tongue against his, and the budding pressure of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest, were simply too inflammatory in his present mood of desperation. Senses began to spin out of control, and, instead of drawing back when the flame he had ignited began to burn too hotly, Matthew continued to feed it.

He wasn't wholly to blame. Olivia was a more than willing pupil, eager to do anything to silence the doubts her grandmother had planted in her mind. Matthew wanted her, only her; he had been wanting her for the past six months; and if this was what was needed to hold him, she would let him have her.

But that was the last coherent thought she had. It simply wasn't possible to think at all, with Matthew using all his not-inconsiderable skills to arouse her temperature to fever pitch.

It wasn't the first time he had put his hand beneath her sweater, and touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but tonight he wasn't content with just holding their rounded fullness in his hands. Instead, he dragged the sweater up beneath her arms, and bent his head to take their rosy peaks into his mouth.

Olivia shuddered as he sucked on the swollen nipples. Her knowledge of lovemaking had not prepared her for how she would feel at seeing Matthew's dark head against her pale skin, but the instinctive sensuality of her nature responded to his. The sensations he was creating were causing a strange melting feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she found herself lifting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to him, and clutching his head against her.

His mouth returned to hers, his breathing heavier now, and Olivia found she was breathing heavily, too, dragging the air into her lungs with an obvious effort. But with her arms around Matthew's neck, her fingers tangled in the damp hair at his nape, she was drowning in emotions she had barely known existed.