Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers

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      He “wanted” her? What did he mean by that? Did he mean to carry her off with him somewhere into the depths of the sea or wherever he had come from? Who was he, what was he? And what was it she was supposed to know? With a concentrated effort that cost her almost all of the strength she had left in her, Alexa tore herself free and dived back into the water, swimming vigorously as she tried to gather her already scattered wits about her. Moon maid, he had called her. Moon mad was more like it! Lunatic…now she realized how the word had been coined.

      When she came up for air, shaking wet hair away from her face, Alexa found him before her again. Without her knowing it, she was playing the coquette—going from the innocent playfulness of a moon child to deliberate teasing. The cynical side of the man’s mind told him that she was playing a calculated game with him. Of course! Wasn’t that what most women were taught from infancy? Sweet deception. Blow hot, and then cold. Tease and pretend while you played “catch me if you can”; a game guaranteed to drive a man to his knees. But the fact remained that she was here like a fantasy turned flesh and blood—a naked nymph whose shoulders gleamed like silver in the light of a sinking moon—and he was the mortal man who had come upon her by accident, overcome by desire for her, as she probably knew very well!

      Alexa still could not make out his features too well, although she could at least see that he was dark-complexioned. And although his English had been impeccable, he had a slight accent she could not quite recognize. Was he a gentleman? But then, how could he take her for a lady? It suddenly occurred to her that in spite of all the books she had read on almost every subject under the sun and in so many different languages, there were still many things of which she remained ignorant. Like…well, how did one act if you found yourself alone with a strange man on a moonlit night and neither of you had any clothes on?

      Irrepressibly, Alexa started to laugh, perhaps as much from nerves as from the awkwardness of the situation she found herself in. But he did not laugh with her. In fact his voice sounded as if he was gritting his teeth while he spoke.

      “You find something laughable about this?”

      “I’m nervous! I always laugh when I’m nervous. And none of this seems quite real yet…”

      It was the feeling she had that his body was suddenly poised—for attack? Assault?—that made Alexa suddenly break off in mid-sentence and turn in panic to swim for the steps again. But as she had half-dreaded and half-anticipated he was there before her to bar her way to safety and security. Ridiculous! She, Alexa Howard, had never been cowardly enough to run away from danger, and of course she was not afraid! And yet, when she felt his arm go around her, she could not help the sudden tremor that ran up under her skin.

      As if they were merely continuing a polite conversation he said casually, with his head bent to hers, “What is it, mermaid? What did you suddenly think of? And were you thinking or—calculating?”

      “Calculating? And what do you mean by that?” Indignantly, Alexa tried to shrug off his arm as she added, “Not that it matters in the least, of course; except that you have intruded upon my privacy, and you…”

      “Indeed?” His drawling voice made her hackles rise instinctively as he continued sarcastically: “But then, you see, I had counted upon having some privacy myself tonight, and I happen to know that you are not the Governor’s wife nor the wife of the Lieutenant Governor either. In fact, I really cannot imagine you as the wife of any one of the very proper British gentlemen I’ve met, for that matter…having the courage to go out swimming under the moon without a stitch of clothing on! Which makes me wonder about you, sweet sea nymph…”

      “Oh!” Alexa felt her face grow hot and was glad he could not know it. It was quite insufferable, as well as ungentlemanly of him to mention it, of course. Sitting one step lower than he was, she slid herself deeper into the water until her shoulders were safely covered; and hearing his soft, amused chuckle at her strategy, Alexa would dearly have loved to use her nails on him. But instead, controlling herself with an effort, she said stiffly: “Since I happen to be a guest at Queen’s House, I can only believe that you must be the trespasser here. And if you had any decency you would leave at once! In fact, I don’t even think you are English! Where did you come from anyhow? I’m sure you have no rights to be here, and if you are wise you’ll leave before…”

      She did not quite like the sound of the short laugh that cut off her half-uttered threat as he said: “Before…what? Would you call the sentries and let them see you as you are now? A guest at Queen’s House? I had guessed you for some lucky man’s light of love, not His Excellency the Governor’s, for I don’t think his wife would permit him such an indulgence; but perhaps one of his senior officers? Obviously one of the older ones, or you would not be out here by yourself to seek your solace from the moon and the sea, would you?”

      Her volatile temper boiling to the surface at last, Alexa snapped cuttingly, “By God! And now you’ve made it obvious that you are not only without manners but a depraved, degenerate…”

      “You left out pervert and libertine,” he pointed out in a casual tone of voice that took Alexa by surprise. And then he said savagely, almost beneath his breath, “But if I’m no gentleman and all that you think I am, my little mermaid, then neither are you a lady! I think you’re a flirt and a hypocrite.”

      “That’s not true!” Alexa flared up.

      “It isn’t? Then why are you afraid to prove it, little liar? Or are you going to seek safety behind the convenient wall of convention and mortal sin?” His voice, deceptively calm to begin with, had suddenly turned into an animal snarl that almost frightened her. But then, before she had time to think further, his arms captured her again; and he began to kiss her, sliding his body against and over hers until she was held trapped and helpless. And this time his kisses were not gentle as he cut off her half-formed protests by the pressure of his hard mouth over hers. They were demanding and almost savage, these kisses; and when she fought, almost by instinct, to free herself from the encroachment of his body over and against hers, it was only to discover that he was much stronger than she was—and in the end, and even more frighteningly, that her body did not, inexplicably, really want to escape.

      He was touching her everywhere—everywhere, even though she wriggled and tried to twist and turn herself free. And nothing in her upbringing or her schooling, as unconventional as it was by the standards of the day, had prepared Alexa for the wild and almost overwhelming tumult of emotion and sensation that raced through every vein in her body and rendered all the rational, practical commands of her mind futile. She heard herself moan and felt the shudders that shook her whole body when he touched her in certain ways, despising herself with the one small detached part of her mind that remained sane and actually relishing all the new sensations that had suddenly begun to erupt in her with all the force of a volcano. What was happening to her? What did it mean? How could she let it happen, this feeling of senses taking over from mind and reason until thought was only a vague pinprick?

      Caught and trapped in a daze of unfamiliar emotions and feelings, Alexa was only half-aware of leaving the softly undulating coolness of water for the wetness of dew-damp grass. They had climbed the steps, still holding on to each other, and had almost fallen down together soon after.

      The moon had slipped even lower in the blue-black sky, moving inexorably towards the horizon that was defined by the dark line of the Indian Ocean. Silver reflections still danced and shimmered off the surface of the pool they had just left and the sea beyond it; and Alexa could still see the twinkling orange riding lights of the ship she had noticed earlier, anchored at Colombo Roadstead. She saw without really seeing because for the moment only feeling was uppermost in her.

      The grass had not been cut for some time, and it felt scratchy and coarse against СКАЧАТЬ