Dragons Lair. Sara Craven

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ waited for him in the cab, but he made it quite clear he expected her to accompany him up to the flat. She stood silently while he unlocked the door and then walked ahead of him into the small living room. This was all strange too, she thought, even though it was where they would be living when they returned from the hotel until they left again for the U.S.A. She wandered round the room while Gethyn collected some things from the bedroom. It was difficult to imagine herself sitting in either of the fireside chairs reading while Gethyn worked at the table behind her. She peered into the kitchenette where she would soon be cooking the meals and a feeling of total inadequacy began to invade her.

      It was as if some romantic veil had been suddenly torn from her eyes and she was seeing life as it really was for the first time. Where had they gone—all those hours she had spent with Gethyn, wandering round art galleries, browsing through bookshops? He had taken her to dinner, to the theatre, walked with her along the Embankment and through the parks. Sometimes he had kissed her, and she put a hand almost fearfully against her lips. It wasn’t a great deal on which to base a relationship as intimate as marriage, yet this was what she had done. What did she know about him really—except where he had been to school and university and the titles of the books he had written? She knew his parents were dead and that he was an only child like herself, and preferred Italian food to Chinese. She shook her head almost dazedly.

      She heard a board creak behind her and turned to find him leaning against the bedroom door jamb watching her. He had discarded his jacket and loosened his tie and looked completely at home, which she supposed he was. She was the stranger here. The little fish, suddenly and disastrously out of water.

      ‘Come here.’ His tone was gentle enough, but there was an underlying note of command, of ownership even, which made her mouth dry.

      She tried to smile. ‘The taxi will be waiting.’

      His brows rose lazily. ‘I sent the taxi away. We can call another when we’re ready. Now, come here.’

      Her reluctance must have been obvious for by the time her lagging steps had got her across the room to him, he had straightened with a jerk and was frowning.

      ‘It’s a little soon for second thoughts, isn’t it?’ he asked sarcastically, and she flushed.

      ‘I—I don’t know what you mean.’

      ‘Of course you know,’ he jibed. ‘Any resemblance between you and the loving girl I kissed last night is purely coincidental. My God, I don’t think you’ve touched me voluntarily all day.’ He took her by the shoulders, his eyes searching hers. ‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’

      ‘Nothing,’ she lied. ‘It’s all been a bit of a strain, that’s all. And Mummy was being—difficult this morning.’

      Gethyn murmured something under his breath that she prudently failed to hear. Then his grip had tightened, compelling her towards him.

      ‘Hello, wife,’ he said quietly, and bent and kissed her on the mouth. She made herself remain passive under his touch, waiting for that familiar warm tide of feeling to engulf her, but there was nothing. It was as if her warm flesh and blood had been transformed to marble. She was incapable of even the slightest response, and presently he released her. She had closed her eyes involuntarily as he had bent towards her, and she kept them closed, afraid to encounter his anger, until she knew that he had moved away.

      When she ventured to open them, she found he had returned to the bedroom and was focussing all his attention on fastening the straps round his case. She bit her lip.

      ‘Shall I make some coffee?’ She strove for normality.

      ‘If you want some,’ he said, his voice expressionless. ‘Can you find everything?’

      ‘Well, I shall have to learn some time,’ she returned without thinking, and blushed stormily as his sardonic gaze met hers.

      ‘That’s true,’ he observed smoothly, and swung the case from the bed to the floor. She turned away hastily and went to the kitchenette. She filled the kettle and plugged it in, and found the remains of a pint of milk in the refrigerator.

      She was searching through the cupboards for the jar of coffee when Gethyn came in. Immediately the admittedly cramped area of the kitchen seemed to shrink to the proportions of a postage stamp.

      ‘Look,’ she pointed to the milk. ‘That wants using up.’

      ‘Perhaps.’ He came to the cupboard and leaned down, his arm brushing hers. It was as much as she could do not to flinch. He produced the coffee jar and set it down on the narrow worktop. ‘Unless we decide to stay.’

      ‘To stay?’ She could hear the nervousness in her own voice, and knew it would not be lost on him either. ‘But we’re going to the hotel.’

      ‘I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea.’ His face was enigmatic as he spooned coffee into the waiting beakers. ‘This is going to be our home, at least on a temporary basis. I don’t see why we shouldn’t move straight in, and forgo your uncle’s offer, kind though it was.’

      ‘Oh, but we couldn’t!’ The kettle was boiling and she moved hurriedly to swith it off.

      ‘Why not?’ He leaned one elbow on the worktop, watching her levelly. ‘Careful of that kettle. You’re going to scald yourself.’

      She set it down, her heart thumping. ‘Because—because it would hurt Uncle Phil’s feelings. It’s his wedding present to us and …’

      ‘I could phone him and explain the situation. I’m sure he would understand.’

      ‘Well, that’s more than I do.’ She lifted the kettle and filled the beakers.

      ‘I simply get the feeling that the implications of the bridal suite are proving a little too much for you at the moment,’ he said unemotionally. ‘I’ll ask him just to postpone it for a few months, if you like, until you’re in a mood to appreciate it more.’

      She was panic-stricken. The flat was so small. What possibility of privacy did it afford? She added a splash of milk to her coffee and sipped at it almost distractedly. She preferred it with sugar, but she did not wish Gethyn to join her on another search for the commodity. She thought fast.

      ‘I think it’s too late to change our minds now,’ she said rapidly. ‘The hotel will be expecting us. Besides, I didn’t really expect to have to do housework on my honeymoon.’

      It should have sounded coquettish, but it came out as petulance, and she wished it unsaid. Gethyn’s dark face was still and enigmatic.

      He said coolly, ‘As you wish, then,’ and drank his coffee with a slight grimace.

      While he phoned for a taxi to take them to the hotel, Davina rinsed the beakers under the tap. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the kitchen window, her eyes much wider and brighter than usual, but that could be the champagne, and a tiny flush of colour high on her cheekbones. She looked as if she was running a temperature, yet inside she felt deathly cold.

      She was still cold when the hotel porter ushered them into the suite. Everything was there waiting for them— more champagne on ice, red roses—lovers’ flowers, filling the air with their scent, baskets of fruit. She glanced round and saw through the half-open door the gleam of a gold satin bedspread, and hurriedly averted her gaze. Gethyn was tipping the man, who was СКАЧАТЬ