Long Cold Winter. PENNY JORDAN

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ it was only Sally, her eyes concerned.

      ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘As all right as anyone can be after being confronted by a piece of their past they thought well and truly buried,’ Autumn responded.

      Sally’s smile was wryly appreciative. ‘And what a past!’

      ‘If you’d been married to him you wouldn’t have let him out of your sight, is that what you’re going to say?’

      Sally heard the bitterness and shook her head. ‘Autumn, you and I have been friends long enough for me to know the sort of person you are. I admit that Yorke isn’t exactly what I pictured when you talked about your husband. He’s far more mind-blowing; but anyone but a fool can tell with just one look that he’s pure steel. Fun to play with as long as it’s just a game, but I’d hate to have him for my enemy, and it was a pretty rotten trick for Alan to play, unleashing him on you like that without any warning. Yorke’s idea, I suppose?’

      Autumn nodded her head.

      ‘It seems that Yorke threatened to destroy Travel Mates if Alan didn’t help him.’

      ‘What are you going to do?’

      ‘Leave here just as soon as I can. I don’t know what Yorke wants, and I don’t care. There’s only one thing I want from him—a divorce!’

      ‘Look, would you like me to stay with you tonight?’ Sally suggested sympathetically.

      Autumn smiled briefly. ‘No, thanks, but it was a kind thought.’

      As she slipped out into the darkness she drew in gulps of fresh air, her mind busily planning her escape. Tomorrow she had to go with the sailing trip round the island, but there was a flight to London from St Lucia, the day after, and with any luck she could be on it. Beyond her arrival in London she refused to think. Every instinct she possessed was overwhelming her with the need to put as great a distance between herself and Yorke as she could.

       CHAPTER TWO

      WHEN she left the restaurant, Autumn didn’t immediately return to her bungalow. Instead she walked along the beach, carrying her flimsy sandals in one hand as she felt the sea-washed firmness of the sand beneath her feet. Tonight she felt a deep longing to give herself up to the vastness of the sea; to be swamped by its embrace, and be swept effortlessly into an unending void where all feeling ceased to exist. It would be so easy to walk into the sea now and keep on walking, and she had to fight against the urge to do so.

      Turning her back on the sea, she walked determinedly towards her bungalow, inserting her key in the lock and opening the door.

      Once inside she stiffened like a wary cat, sensing danger. Tobacco smoke drifted across the darkened room, but even before the familiar scent reached her, she knew who it was who stood in the shadows by the window.

      He crossed the room before she could react, grasping her arm and pulling her towards him, locking the door behind her and pocketing the key with one swift, lithe movement.

      ‘Still so predictable,’ he mocked. ‘Never fight when you can run.’

      ‘I wasn’t running, Yorke,’ Autumn told him, shrugging dismissively. ‘If you must know, I was tired. I’ve had a long day and now I want to go to bed.’

      It was a tactical mistake and she was annoyed with herself for making it. Yorke’s eyes gleamed silver-green in the darkness; the colour of the sea. Cat’s eyes, watching; waiting eyes.

      ‘So do I,’ he drawled mockingly.

      ‘I meant alone,’ Autumn told him without bothering to disguise her withdrawal. ‘I find I prefer it that way, especially in this climate.’ She dropped her shoes on the floor, sliding them on as though the increased inches gave her increased protection, but even so, the top of her head barely reached Yorke’s chin. She knew with a swift stab of satisfaction that her response had surprised him, even though he disguised it. The old Autumn would have been angry and defensive, backing away from him and defying him to touch her.

      ‘You’ve had experience, then?’ Yorke asked her silkily. ‘But not with friend Alan. You’ve never taken him to your bed, have you, Autumn?’

      ‘I don’t really think that’s any of your business,’ Autumn replied coolly, reaching up to switch on the light. ‘Do you?’

      She felt his indrawn breath, knowing without looking at him that he was angry. So she had pierced his guard. Good! Always in their past encounters he had driven her into a corner, defeating her with his logic and hard determination. Then she had lacked the weapons to fight him, a loser by virtue of her love for him. Now it was different.

      ‘Have you slept with him?’ Yorke demanded angrily, catching hold of her wrist with sudden violence.

      ‘Why don’t you ask him?’

      Autumn was reasonably sure that he would do no such thing, and her success went to her head. It was going to be easier than she had thought. She had allowed her imagination to build Yorke into a more formidable adversary than he actually was, forgetting that during the intervening years she had grown from an inexperienced adolescent, young for her years, into a woman.

      ‘Please give me my key and leave,’ she demanded coldly. ‘I have an early start in the morning.’

      ‘That cold, dismissive manner might work with other men,’ Yorke snarled at her, tightening his grip of her wrist, ‘but it doesn’t work with me, Autumn. I know too well what lies under that ice-cold exterior, and I haven’t followed you half way across the world to be dismissed and frozen out. Besides…’ his voice dropped huskily, his eyes wandering over in insolent appraisal, until she felt her lungs would burst with the effort of maintaining her slow even breathing, ‘we both know that the ice is just a façade, don’t we?’

      ‘What do you want? I’m not in the mood for games, Yorke. Just say your piece and then go.’

      His eyes darkened and for a moment Autumn felt the unleashed power of the anger her dismissal had aroused, and she knew that she had not overestimated the danger he represented—far from it. And then he was smiling mockingly, his eyes cruel, as his thumb circled the soft inner flesh of her wrist with insidious determination.

      ‘I want you, Autumn,’ he said softly.

      Once long ago that soft caress would have been sufficient to drive her into his arms, begging brokenly for the satisfaction only his lovemaking could bring, but now, after one deep, shuddering breath, she had herself under control, her eyes empty of everything but distaste as she stared at him.

      ‘Well, I don’t want you.’

      She sensed that her response had disconcerted him, although he recovered quickly, shielding his thoughts from her and watching her from beneath lowered lashes, his hard face unreadable.

      ‘Well, well, you’ve grown up with a vengeance, haven’t you?’ he drawled softly. ‘Anyone who didn’t know you could never guess that you’re as vulnerable as an oyster without its shell under all that surface toughness.’

      Somehow she managed to laugh, a light, silvery sound, СКАЧАТЬ