Secret Passion. Carole Mortimer

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      Vague brown eyes focused on her with effort as her mother looked up from the television set showing a popular children’s cartoon. ‘Is it that time already, dear?’ She frowned as she saw the till-roll and books in Aura’s hands.

      ‘Yes,’ she confirmed indulgently, kissing her mother on the cheek before glancing at the television screen. ‘Has the cat been put out for the night yet?’ she mused.

      ‘No, dear.’ Her mother patted her cheek. ‘And talking of cats, have you seen Marmaduke today?’

      ‘He came in with me and went straight for his food bowl in the kitchen,’ Aura assured her, knowing how her mother fretted about the wandering tomcat. ‘Just give me five minutes and I’ll get our dinner started.’

      ‘I’ll get it, shall I, dear?’ her mother offered, but her attention had already wandered back to the television programme.

      Aura smiled as she went up to the next floor to her bedroom, knowing her mother would still be immersed in the cartoon—or another programme like it—when she went through the lounge in a few minutes on her way to the kitchen. Every night her mother offered to get dinner for them, and every night she either forgot or wandered off to do something else.

      At only forty-five, with the sort of beauty that had only increased with the years, her mother had retreated into a world where pain didn’t touch her, where she saw only good in everything, because to see things any other way would be to see reality. It had been like this since Aura’s father died.

      Her mother had never been a forceful personality, but the death of the man she loved had somehow pushed her into a world where she took responsibility for nothing, and where no one expected her to do so. When she wasn’t watching the childishly uncomplicated programmes on television she would just sit and daydream, and from the faraway tranquility of her expression when she did that Aura guessed her thoughts were as childishly unfettered by reality.

      Shock, the doctors had diagnosed her condition, at the sudden death of Aura’s father. They had all predicted she would as quickly recover from the shock, that it was something that occasioanlly happened to the deeply grief-stricken. They had been wrong, and despite constant counselling, her mother still lived in that state where she knew the man she loved had gone, but where she preferred to think he had just briefly left their lives.

      At times Aura felt her father’s loss so acutely she wanted to share her own pain with her mother, but as time passed and her mother continued to live in her world without pain the doctors had feared that the sudden jolt into awareness could result in permanent damage. Sometimes, as Aura watched her dreamily vague mother, she wondered if it weren’t already too late to do anything to help her.

      Once she had changed into peach cotton trousers and a brown blouse, she went down to the kitchen, her mother, as she had predicted, still watching the television, having switched off the news in favour of a nature programme.

      Aura didn’t know how her mother would react to the move if they had to make one. She didn’t seem aware of her surroundings most of the time, had made no comment when they moved here two years ago, and yet this flat was part of her mother’s security.

      Her mother’s distracted, ‘I could have done it, dear,’ as they sat down to the dinner Aura had prepared, made her smile sadly.

      Her mother had never been a forceful person, had always been content to go along with the will of the majority rather than argue her own point of view, but Aura did remember her as a woman whose complete happiness enveloped all around her; the way she was now, neither happiness nor despair touched her. It was heartbreaking for Aura to witness.

      The fact that Adrian, when he had called for her here, had been unfailingly kind to her mother had only made her like him more; now she was sure that kindness had just been another part of his plan to persuade her into a deeper relationship with him.

      Her sudden loss of appetite was due solely to Adrian Mayhew and what he was trying to do to her, and she refused her mother’s offer of helping her clear away, needing to be alone to try to work out what she would do if James Ballantine refused to reconsider renewing her lease. She would have to look for another property if that happened, and she wearily thought of the time it would take to find somewhere that was suitable. Why didn’t—who was her mother talking to? Oh God, she hadn’t started talking to herself too, had she!

      Aura was hastily wiping her hands dry as she rushed into the lounge, entering the room just in time to see her mother inviting James Ballantine into the flat.

      He looked over the top of her mother’s head at her flushed and dishevelled appearance, frowning at her suddenly fierce glare. ‘If I’ve called at an inconvenient time …?’

      Any time would be inconvenient with him looking like that!

      He ought to have a ‘Danger’ warning sewn onto the waistband of the faded denims he wore; the way they clung to his hips and thighs was positively indecent. He had no right to reveal how broad his chest was in the dark green shirt and black leather jacket, and he certainly had no right to have his hair falling rakishly over his forehead like that, ruffled by the gentle breeze outside!

      Aura realised she had stopped breathing as soon as she saw him only because her starved lungs suddenly demanded air, her ragged breath audible as her mother moved to turn down the volume on the television set.

      ‘Not at all—Mr Ballantine, wasn’t it?’ Her mother gave him one of her vague smiles. ‘Aura has just finished clearing away. And I——’

      ‘Mummy,’ she warned as her mother picked up a book that lay open on the sofa.

      ‘—was just off to my room,’ she finished serenely as if Aura hadn’t spoken, dazzling James Balantine with another of her beautiful smiles before going up the stairs.

      James Ballantine watched her go with vaguely disturbed eyes. ‘She’s very lovely,’ he said suddenly.

      ‘Yes,’ Aura snapped, suddenly in control again. OK, so out of the dark suit he had worn earlier today and wearing casual denims and a leather jacket instead, he looked devastating; that was no reason to forget that this man had to be here for a purpose, and she had to know what that purpose was. ‘Have you come to tell me——’

      ‘She seems a little—not quite of this world.’ He still gazed after her mother.

      ‘Yes,’ she bit out tautly. ‘Now would you——’

      ‘But so very beautiful,’ he said again dazedly, as if completely mesmerised.

      ‘Mr Ballantine——’

      ‘James,’ he corrected gruffly, crossing the room to her side in two strides. ‘Don’t expect me to be coherent when I’ve just seen what you’re going to look like in twenty years’ time,’ he murmured softly. ‘Aura …!’

      She didn’t have time to prevent the contact as his head bent to hers and the mouth that she had classed as sensual on sight took possession of her. That was the only way to describe what happened to her, James not just claiming her mouth but branding the whole of her body with his touch.

      One hand curved about her nape while the other one held her tightly about the hips, making her aware of the difference in their heights as the hardness of his thighs was crushed against her stomach, stirring a strange emotion there while СКАЧАТЬ