Emma Harte - Hold The Dream Part 41

your feelings for me?" She threw back her head and laughed, enjoying him, being with him. "I don't know. And I'll try to stop doing it, but childhood habits are hard to break. As a matter of fact, very seriously, I've really got to curb my appet.i.te. I haven't stopped eating since I've been with you. Anyone would think I've been on a starvation diet."

Shane merely smiled, thought: You have, my darling, in more ways than you know. They finished their tea and biscuits, continuing to chat about the trip to Barbados, and Shane was delighted she was so obviously thrilled and excited about the prospect of spending five days with him in the sun. At one moment Shane got out of bed, found his cigarettes, and opened the window. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?" he asked, climbing back into bed. "Not at all." Paula edged closer to him, so that their legs touched and their shoulders grazed, -wanting the closeness of him."Happy, darling?" he asked, glancing at her through the corner of his eye."Very happy. Are you?""As never before."There was a short silence, then Paula confessed, "I've never made love like that before.""I know you haven't.""Was it that obvious . . . my inexperience?"He chuckled, squeezed her hand, said nothing.She said, "But you're very experienced, Shane." She stole a look at his face. Jealousy, an unfamiliar feeling, trickled through her. "You've had a lot of women."

He was not certain if this last remark was a question or a statement. "You've heard all the gossip about

me and my romantic escapades over the years."

"The stories were all true, then?"

"Yes."

"Why not me, Shane?"

"That's fairly obvious, easy to answer. Because of Emma and Blackie, their relationship, the closeness

and involvement of our two families. But even if I'd understood my true feelings for you, Paula, I wouldn't

have dared come near you, tried to make love to you. I'd have been skinned alive, and you know I would." He thought of Dorothea Mallet's words, added, "Before your marriage, you were sort of-well, the crown princess of the three clans. And, therefore, inviolate. A man doesn't sleep with a woman like you, have an affair with her. He proposes marriage. Sadly, regrettably, I didn't know that I wanted you desperately, or how I felt about you when you were available, unattached. I was too close to you, I suppose."

"I understand." She looked at his face. A feeling of possessiveness came over her, and the jealousy intensified. She asked softly, "Those other women . . . did you make love with them the same way you made love with me tonight?"

He was momentarily startled by the question. He was on the verge of lying, not wishing to hurt or upset her, and then he knew he should be honest. Opting for the cold truth, he said, "Yes, sometimes, but not always, not with all of them. You and I made love in the most personal and intimate way there is, Paula. Most of my former girlfriends didn't arouse that kind of desire, that need in me-as you do. Oral s.e.x is . . . well, extremely intimate, as I just said. I've got to be very emotionally committed to want that." He half-smiled.

"It's not something I have ever been able to do indiscriminately, Paula."

She nodded. "I think that it probably springs from the urge and the desire and the compulsion to totally possess the other person."

"Oh yes, yes, it does." He gave her a penetrating glance.

"Since you've been in New York-" She paused, hating herself for prying, but she could not help it. She cleared her throat. "Have you had a lot of affairs?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because of you." Shane drew on his cigarette, exhaled, said, "My bedroom liaisons have been pretty disastrous ever since the day I understood that I loved you." He turned his head, looked deeply into her eyes. "Actually, I've had a lot of trouble in that direction . . . Ive been impotent."

He saw the surprise and dismay cross her face. She stiffened against him slightly, but she said not one word.

Shane went on, "I managed to make it occasionally, if the room was dark and my partner did not shatter my fragile fantasy ... my fantasy that it was you whom I was with. If I could hold the image of you in my mind, then it was all right. But for the most part it's been b.l.o.o.d.y difficult."

Without mentioning names, he told her then about his experience in Harrogate the afternoon of the christening, and recounted other devastating incidents. He felt neither shame nor embarra.s.sment talking to Paula in this most self-revealing manner. He was glad to unburden himself, and as he continued to speak he acknowledged that he was only following his old pattern of confiding in her, sharing his secrets with her as he had when they were children.

Once he had finished, Paula reached up, put her arms around his neck, held him close. "Oh, Shane, Shane darling, I'm so sorry I caused you such pain and heartache."

He .stroked her head, pressed it closer to his shoulder with one hand. "It was hardly your fault." He then asked softly, "When did you discover how you felt about me?"

"I've been very conscious of you since I came to New York. Last night, then again this evening, the strangest feelings began to stir in me. I realized I desired you s.e.xually, wanted you to make love to me, and I to you. Suddenly-when we were talking after Elaine and Sonny left-it dawned on me that I was in love with you."

He did not speak for a few seconds, then he said, "I didn't bring you up here to seduce you, Pau-"

"I know that!"

"I just wanted to be with you, spend time with you. I've missed you very much." There was a short pause. "I've had a golden rule for years-no married women. I never wanted to take something that belonged to another man."

"I believe I belong to myself," she said.

Shane was silent. He was eaten up with curiosity about her marriage, and his jealousy of Jim was rife, but he was reluctant to embark on this subject, afraid of spoiling the mood that presently existed between them.

Paula remarked evenly, "Surely you know I wouldn't be here with you like this, Shane, if I were happy in my marriage."

"Jesus, Paula, of course I do! You're not promiscuous. I know you'd never play around just for the sake of it." He scowled, eyed her closely through his narrowed gaze. "It's not working, then?"

"No. I've tried, Shane, G.o.d knows I've tried. I'm not blaming Jim. I think it takes two to create a disaster. I don't hate him, he's not a bad person. We're not right together, that's all there is to it. We're incompatible in every way." She bit her inner lip. "I'd like to leave it at that ... for tonight, anyway. All of a sudden I don't want to talk about my marriage."

"I know, darling, I know."

For a short while they were silent, lost in their own reflections. But eventually Paula murmured, "Oh, Shane, what a mess I've made. If only we could turn the clock back."

"Ah, but that's not possible . . . and time is not so important, you know. And you mustn't think about yesterday or tomorrow, only today. Anyway, time isn't portioned out and then encased in little capsules. Time is like a river. The past, the present, the future all flow together to become one long continuing and never-ending stream. We get echoes of the past every day of our lives, and we see images of the future as we live in the present. Time gone and time yet to come is all around us, Paula, and time is a dimension unto itself."

She looked up into his familiar and well-loved face, and in her mind's eye she saw the man as he had been as a boy, recalled his preoccupation with the Celt in himself and his Celtic forebears and Celtic legend. That old dreamy look born of his mysticism filled his eyes, and his deep introspection was evidence in his expression and she knew that he was lost somewhere in the far, far distant past. And then he blinked, gave her a funny little lopsided smile-one she remembered so well. The man instantly became that small boy at Heron's Nest, and their, childhood was all around them, encompa.s.sing them, filling this room. And she knew that Shane was correct in the things he had said about time being like a flowing river, and she reached out and touched his arm and told him this.

He said slowly, thoughtfully, "And there's another thing, Paula. Life has its own intricate pattern . . . There is a grand design, really. What has already happened in our lives was meant to happen, Perhaps to show us the way, lead us to each other. And the future is already here with us, now, at this very moment, whether we're aware of it or not." He put his hand under her chin, lifted her face to his, looked deeply into her eyes. "And we're not going to think about anything except this weekend. We'll take each "day after that as it comes." He leaned into her, kissed her lightly, drew back. "Don't look so serious. Life has a way of taking care of itself, and I have a feeling that we are going to do just fine together."

Her throat tightened with a rush of emotion. She clung to him, whispered, "I love you so much, Shane. How could I .have ever not known that!"

"You do now, and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

Chapter Thirty-six.

She arrived in Barbados on Wednesday afternoon.

As she walked out of customs; carrying her suit jacket over her arm and clutching her traveling bag, she thought that he had not come to meet her after all. Disappointment replaced antic.i.p.ation. She looked around, seeking a chaufieur or someone wearing the uniform of the Coral Cove Hotel whom he may have sent in his place.

The porter trailing behind her, carrying her large case, asked if she wanted a taxi. She explained she was expecting to be met, then peered again at the blur of people crowding the busy airport entrance.

Paula saw Shane before he saw her.

He came barreling through the main gla.s.s doors, looking anxious. She stood stock still, taut with excitement. Her heart began to clatter unreasonably. She had been with him on Monday night. Two days ago. But seeing him now was a .shock. Every detail of his appearance leapt out at her, as though she was observing a total stranger, someone she did not know. His wavy hair, longish and curling down onto his neck, the well-defined brows and the distinctive mustache all appeared much blacker, and his brilliant eyes were like pieces of onyx in his tan face. Even the cleft in his chin seemed more p.r.o.nounced. She saw that he wore a beautifully cut cream silk suit, a cream shirt with fine burgundy stripes and a burgundy tie. A silk handkerchief of the same wine color flared in his breast pocket. His brown loafers gleamed. He was immaculate from head to toe. But he'was the same old Shane. It was she who was new. The new Paula who was in love with him. He was the only man she wanted.

Finally he spotted her and pushed through the crowd, purposeful, confident. He was there, towering above her, grinning, his eyes filled with laughter.

She felt weak at the knees.

"Darling," he said, "I'm sorry. I cut it fine, as usual."

She could not speak, just stood there, smiling up at him inanely.

He bent to kiss her cheek, and then took her arm, motioned for the porter to follow them, bustled her outside.

A chauffeur leaning against the hood of a silver-gray Cadillac sprang forward, opened the pa.s.senger door, stowed the suitcase in the trunk. Shane tipped the porter, helped her into the car, climbed in after her. He pressed a b.u.t.ton. The gla.s.s part.i.tion behind the driver's seat closed. As the car slid noiselessly away from the curb he put his arm around her, tilted her face to his. He stared at her, as if he had not seen her for years. She stared back, saw her own reflection mirrored in his glistening black eyes. Her mouth went dry as he bent toward her. And as his tongue slid past her parched lips to touch hers, blood rushed through her. She felt dizzy. His grip on her tightened. Her arms went around his neck. Her hands slipped up into his thick hair. She knew he was terribly excited. But then, so was she.

Shane held her away from him, shaking his head, half-laughing. "I think I'd better exercise a bit of restraint here, otherwise I'll end up making love to you on the back seat and that would cause a scandal." He held her eyes. He seemed unexpectedly amused at them both. "You do get me hot and bothered, lady."

"It works both ways, you know."

Smiling, he lit a cigarette, asked her if she had had a good flight, and then began to talk effortlessly about the island, pointing out interesting landmarks, giving her a brief history of Barbados. For the next half hour or so he talked incessantly, reached out to squeeze her hand from time to time.

"Coral Cove is on the west side of the island," Shane was saying. "It's not far from the Sandy Lane Hotel, which we'll be pa.s.sing in a few seconds. I'll take you there to lunch one day-it's a lovely spot. Anyway, our place is located in the area known as the Platinum Coast, so called because of its sandy white beaches. I hope you're going to like it."

"Oh, Shane, I know I will, but I'd be happy anywhere with you, darling."

His eyes instantly swiveled to hers. "Would you really, Paula?"

"Yes, Shane."

"Love me?"

"Madly."

"You'd better."

"And you?"

"I'm crazy about you, darling. So crazily, overwhelmingly in love with you I'll never let you go," he replied, his voice light. And then he took hold of her hand tightly and his expression and his voice changed. "I mean that, Paula. I won't let you go. Never."

Startled, she swallowed, not knowing what to say. England and her life there, momentarily forgotten in her euphoria at being with him, loomed hideously. She met his piercing gaze, said haltingly, "There're a lot of prob-"

He covered her mouth with his large, sunburned hand, shook his head. "Sorry, darling, I shouldn't have said that. At least, not now." He gave her his cheeky, boyish grin. "We're not going to even think about problems, never mind talk about them, for the next few days. There'll be plenty of time for that when we're back in New York."

And before she could reply, the car was slowing down. The chauffeur turned in through iron gates and as the Cadillac swept on she caught a glimpse of the name Coral Cove. A moment later, at the end of the short driveway, they came to a standstill in front of the hotel.

The intense heat hit her as Shane helped her out of the air-conditioned car. She looked around. Coral Cove was larger than she had expected, painted white and pale pink on the outside. She could see it was set in the middle of lush, exotic gardens. Just beyond the edge of the green lawns lay a stretch of silver sand and the turquoise ocean glittering in the sunshine.

"Oh, Shane, it's beautiful," she exclaimed as he looked at her expectantly, his eyes eager.

He nodded, took her elbow. "I think so-and thanks. But come on, it's b.l.o.o.d.y hot outside at this time of day."

He led her through the s.p.a.cious, airy lobby, washed in white and furnished with rattan pieces and immense tropical plants in ceramic tubs. Ceiling fans whirred pleasantly, creating a gentle breeze, and the ambiance was cool, shady, welcoming.

Even though she wanted to stop and look around, Shane would not permit her to linger.

He whisked her smartly up to the suite, and once they were inside he pulled her into his arms roughly, began to kiss her, his hands hard on her body. Paula clung to him, returned his kisses. A loud rapping on the door interrupted this moment of intimacy, forced them apart.

Shane called, "Come in, Albert,' and hurried forward to take her suitcase from the bellboy.

When they were alone, Shane said, "All this Icissing's going to lead to something else any minute. And since I don't want you to think I'm a s.e.x maniac, I'm going to show you around." He drew her into the center of the room. "Listen, I've got a whole program mapped out for you. Sun and sleep"-the impudent grin flashed, as he went on-"and Shane. Lots and lots of Shane. Day and night, nonstop. How does that sound to you?"

"Scrumptious," she said, laughing. "And so is this suite."

"I knew you'd like this particular one, Paula."

She glanced about with pleasure, noting the coral and lime accents highlighting the cool whiteness of the room, the handsome wicker furniture, the comfortable sofas covered in a pretty floral fabric.

He had filled the room with ma.s.ses of flowers. Bowls and bud vases held all manner of exotic blooms that were a blaze of stunning color. "Shane . . . the flowers . . . they're beautiful." She smiled at him, reached out to touch a delicate purple spray. "Just exquisite. Thank you."

"Those are miniature orchids . . . wild orchids. But most likely you .know that. They grow all over the island. Come on, let me show you the bedroom."

He propelled her through the open door and she found herself standing in another large white room, this one accented with yellow and pale blue. The furniture was of white-lacquered wood; there was a big bed, curtained in * white muslin, which faced out toward the terrace that ran the length of the suite. More flowers abounded here, but some- -thing was missing, and as her glance swept from wall to wall she realized that the bedroom, like the living room, looked curiously unoccupied. It had an unlived-in air.

She turned to him. "Do you have another suite for yourself, Shane?"

"Yes, the adjoining one. I thought it was more discreet." He smiled wryly. "Not that anyone will be deceived-hotel staffs are notorious for knowing everything that's going on." He took a key out of his pocket, opened a door, motioned her to follow him.

His suite was similar to her own, but here his possessions were strewn all over; his briefcase was on a table, a yellow sweater was thrown across the back of a chair; papers and his work littered the small desk; a bottle of scotch, an ice bucket, and gla.s.ses were arranged on a tray on a white wicker console.

"Then why bother to have another suite, if that's the case?" she asked. "I mean, our families would never be suspicious of us-we're supposed to be like brother and sister."

"Then if this is incest, give me incest anytime."

She laughed.