Forgotten Passion. PENNY JORDAN
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Название: Forgotten Passion

Автор: PENNY JORDAN

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

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isbn: 9781408999028

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СКАЧАТЬ What was between them was too new and precious for her to talk freely. She had no idea what had brought about the transformation in Rorke, but she wasn’t going to jeopardise it by criticising Helen to him.

      ‘Feel like a walk, then, to cool off?’

      There was a disturbing glint in his eyes, a curve to his mouth that made Lisa’s heart race.

      ‘That would be very nice,’ she managed sedately, hoping he wouldn’t guess how understated her comment was.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘I DIDN’T want to bring you to St Lucia with me.’

      ‘I know.’

      They were walking hand in hand along the soft white sand, the moon and the stars their only witnesses. The soft breeze Lisa had longed for in the stifling heat of the nightclub wafted balmily over them. Rorke paused, slipping off his jacket, which he dropped on to the sand. ‘Sit down for a moment,’ he suggested, adding huskily, ‘God, Lisa, have you any idea what you do to me? Any idea of the jealousy I’ve endured watching you with young Peters?’

      ‘You jealous?’ Her voice sounded breathless.

      ‘I’m only human, Lisa,’ Rorke reminded her drily. ‘All too human where you’re concerned.’

      ‘But you’ve been so unkind to me…’

      ‘Not half as unkind as I’ve been to myself. You’re seventeen,’ he told her softly, cupping her face. ‘A little girl still in so many ways, and yet already a very desirable young woman. I tried reminding myself that you were my stepsister, but it made no difference. The last time you came home I wanted you, Lisa,’ he told her bluntly. ‘That was six months ago, and nothing has changed, except that I now want you twice as much,’ he told her hoarsely. ‘So much…’

      Her whole body quivered in mute response, eager fingers trembling against his skin as she reached towards him.

      ‘Lisa,’ Rorke groaned grasping her fingers, and pressing a kiss against her palm. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this; shouldn’t be giving way to what I feel, but God help me, I can’t stop myself…’

      ‘And I don’t want you to,’ Lisa told him shyly. ‘I love you, Rorke.’

      ‘I thought you loved young Peters,’ he mocked sardonically. ‘How can you love me when every time I look at you you run away? What do you know of love, Lisa? Until you saw me today I don’t believe you’d ever seen a naked man before, never mind…’

      Hot colour stained her cheeks, but she still found the courage to say hesitantly, ‘Does it matter so much, Rorke—that I’m not experienced, I mean? Can’t you teach me?’

      ‘Lisa!’

      Her name was torn from his throat on an aching protest, and then she was in his arms, his mouth against her skin, tasting, exploring, his lips moving sensuously against hers, parting their soft innocence and probing the sweetness beyond until she was aware of nothing apart from the taste and feel of him as he lowered her to the sand, his hands exploring the contours of her body, his muffled gasp when he suddenly drew away from her confusing her as much as his abrupt withdrawal.

      ‘Leigh at least will be pleased,’ he murmured as he pulled her to her feet. ‘Surely you’ve realised how keen he’s been to throw us together?’ he prodded when Lisa made no response. ‘Dear God, you are an innocent, aren’t you,’ he muttered, and despite the warmth of his arm round her body, Lisa felt a strangely apprehensive chill strike through her body. It was almost as though Rorke resented wanting her, resented loving her.

      ‘Rorke?’

      As though he sensed her uncertainty his arm tightened.

      ‘Rorke, do you love me?’ she murmured softly.

      For a moment she sensed his withdrawal and then he was saying smoothly, ‘Of course I love you, Lisa, who wouldn’t—but right now I think it’s time you were back in your virginal bed, don’t you?

      She wanted to tell him that she would far rather spend the night in his arms, in his bed, but somehow she couldn’t find the words. Indeed she was surprised that he hadn’t suggested it himself, If she had been Helen! But she wasn’t Helen, she reminded herself. She was herself, and Rorke loved her, and surely once they returned to St Martin’s and he had told his father, they would be married?

      They started the return journey to St Martin’s, earlier than had been planned. There was a storm warning, Rorke explained to Lisa when she joined him for breakfast, feeling shyly selfconscious in some of her new separates, and he wanted to get under way as quickly as possible.

      ‘You’re not sorry—about what happened last night, are you?’ she asked hesitantly.

      ‘Not half as sorry as I am about what didn’t,’ Rorke responded sardonically. ‘Lisa, do you have the faintest idea of what you’re letting yourself in for? You’re barely seventeen—you haven’t even begun to taste life.’

      ‘Rorke, I love you!’

      ‘So you keep telling me, and I’m selfish enough to want to believe it. I ought to send you away, for two years at least, but I can’t risk losing you. I love you too much.’

      ‘What do you think Leigh will say?’

      ‘Well, let’s put it this way,’ Rorke retorted wryly. ‘I don’t think it’s going to come as a complete surprise. Something tells me he’s already guessed how I feel about you. In fact I wouldn’t put it past him to have engineered this trip with a view to flinging us together. He’s been at great pains to point out to me how quickly you’re growing up—Growing up! Dear God, and to think I once thought it was only old men in their dotage who found pubescent children physically desirable!’

      ‘I’m not a child,’ Lisa protested, hating the cynicism in his eyes and voice. ‘In another month I’ll be seventeen—another year and…’

      ‘And you’ll be eighteen—I can count, Lisa. Come on,’ he said abruptly. ‘Get your things together and I’ll check us out. If we leave now we should make it back to St Martins before the weather breaks.’

      They left Castries harbour an hour later. The sky was completely free of cloud, but there was a certain dull brassiness about the sun that made Lisa conscious that the storm forecast could not be lightly ignored.

      This time there was no question of her staying below. Like Rorke she had changed into her frayed denim shorts, and her body pulsated with excitement as his eyes narrowed over the curves of her breasts, outlined by the stretchy fabric of her tee shirt, as he helped her aboard.

      ‘We’d better use full sail and the auxiliary engine,’ Rorke announced laconically once they were both on board. ‘I don’t like the colour of that sky.’

      They had completed just over a quarter of their journey, and Rorke was busy checking their progress in the wheelhouse when he suddenly called to Lisa.

      ‘Damn, we’re getting so much interference I can’t do a thing with the radio. These electric storms play havoc with the equipment.’ СКАЧАТЬ