Elusive Lover Page 13

  Still, he did have some semblance of manners in front of the other couple, had even eaten the delicious meal Martha had prepared for them, something Erin hadn’t been able to get him to do all week.

  ‘Josh tells us you’ve learnt to ride,’ Martha said conversationally, perched on the edge of her husband’s armchair. Their marriage was obviously a close one.

  Erin shot Josh a sharp look, but he didn’t even seem to be listening to the conversation, staring sightlessly into space. ‘Yes.’ She still remembered her embarrassed pain after that first ride.

  Martha nodded. ‘It’s a definite asset out here.’

  She pulled a face. ‘But not much of one in London.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ the other woman smiled. ‘You’re going back for a visit, are you?’

  ‘I——’

  ‘Erin is coming with me next week.’ It seemed Josh was listening to the conversation after all. ‘Aren’t you, honey?’ It was the first show of warmth she had received from him in days, and to her shame her heart leapt with pleasure. ‘Yes,’ she smiled shyly at him.

  ‘That will be nice for you,’ Martha smiled. ‘I wonder if you’ll be as glad to get back here as Josh usually is.’

  ‘Oh, but I——’

  ‘Home is where the heart is,’ Josh remarked lazily, his arm dropping in casual possession about her shoulders. ‘Isn’t that so, sweetheart?’

  She could see the other couple looking on approvingly, and wondered at Josh’s sudden change towards her. ‘I— er—yes,’ she agreed awkwardly.

  ‘How’s Sabre now?’ he turned to ask Jim, his black mood evaporating.

  ‘Better. Like to come out and see her?’ the other man offered.

  ‘Oh, not now, Jim!’ his wife protested. ‘I thought we could all sit here and have a chat.’

  ‘You two girls have a chat,’ Josh drawled. ‘I know that’s what you’re dying to do anyway. But don’t try and get too many of my secrets out of Erin, Martha,’ he mocked . ‘She’s a little on the shy side.’

  Hot colour blazed in Erin’s cheeks. Josh was deliberately giving his friends the impression that their own relationship was much closer than it actually was. Maybe it was a pride-saver, but she didn’t like it.

  ‘It isn’t a question of being shy,’ she returned coolly. ‘As I don’t know any of your secrets I can hardly tell them to Martha.’

  He grinned, obviously enjoying her embarrassment. ‘In that case you won’t be telling Martha about my birthmark, or the scar at the top of my thigh that I got playing football at college.’

  If anything her colour deepened. Both of the distinguishing marks were known to her—and the guilt in her face showed that they were. Damn him! She gave him a rebellious look. ‘Just as you won’t mention——’

  ‘Your appendix scar,’ he finished in a slow drawl. ‘No, I won’t mention it,’ he taunted, kissing her lightly on the nose before standing up. ‘So it’s agreed we’ll keep those things to ourselves.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said tautly, not even realising he had seen the small scar. But of course, he would have seen every inch of her as she posed for him.

  Martha spluttered with laughter as soon as the two women were alone. ‘You mustn’t mind Josh,’ she chuckled. ‘I’ve known him all my life, and he can still surprise me.’

  ‘He—I——’

  ‘He’s impossible,’ Martha finished for her. ‘I know. But he’s the best friend Jim and I ever had.’

  Erin appreciated that he was a loyal friend, but did he have to embarrass her like that? Was he so intent on showing what a stud he was that he had to lie about it?

  ‘More coffee?’ Martha offered at her continued silence. ‘Oh—er—yes, please.’ She followed the other girl out to the kitchen. ‘That was a really lovely meal you cooked us.’ She had enjoyed the barbecued chicken and baked potato immensely, trying sour cream on the latter, and finding she liked it. Martha had also made an apple pie, not the insipid type usually found in England; the apples were cooked in a brown syrup that gave them a lovely flavour.

  ‘Thank you,’ Martha accepted shyly. ‘Josh told us he’s painting you.’ She handed the refilled cup to Erin.

  ‘He did?’ Erin licked her lips nervously, wondering if he had told them it was a nude.

  ‘Mm. How’s it going?’

  ‘All right—I think.’ How could she tell the other girl that Josh hadn’t so much as let her step into the studio since the one and only time she had sat for him.

  Martha nodded, not seeming surprised by her lack of knowledge about the painting. ‘He’s a bit protective about his work.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed in a relieved voice.

  ‘I hope he shows it to us before you go to England, I’d really like to see it. Does it have a title? He usually gives them a name.’

  After the way Josh had been acting minutes earlier, his familiarity, how could she tell Martha it was called Innocence? Although it certainly didn’t sound as if Josh had done more than mention he was painting her; Martha did not seem to know it was a nude. ‘I don’t think so,’ she evaded. ‘He—He’s been so—intense—so erratic in his moods that——’

  ‘Josh has?’ Martha’s eyes were wide. ‘That doesn’t sound like Josh. He’s usually very even-tempered.’

  Erin had thought so too at first, but his behaviour lately had been volcanic—and she was never quite sure when he was going to erupt!

  ‘I think he’s been working too hard,’ she excused. ‘And this last painting is just extra work for him.’

  ‘But a labour of love, surely? No, don’t answer,’ Martha sighed. ‘It’s none of my business. I don’t know why I said it. Josh would be furious if he knew—he hates people to be curious about his private life.’

  Erin wasn’t sure she liked being under the heading of Josh’s ‘private life’, but at least it saved her further embarrassing questions. ‘Did you manage to persuade Jim to take you to England yet?’ She changed the subject before Martha’s curiosity overcame her good manners.

  ‘Not yet,’ Martha smiled. ‘But I’m still working on it. I think I’ll succeed.’

  ‘Maybe you could come and see me while you’re there,’ Erin suggested eagerly. She really liked the other girl and would enjoy seeing her again. Besides, Martha would then be able to tell her how Josh was.

  Martha looked puzzled. ‘Oh, but surely you and Josh——’

  ‘Erin and I what?’ Josh drawled as he came into the kitchen, his arm once again going about Erin’s shoulders as he held her to his side.

  ‘I was just inviting Martha to visit me if she comes to England next year,’ Erin told him firmly, challenge in her bright blue eyes.

  ‘Impossible, sweetheart,’ he said lazily, the sharpness of his gaze belying the relaxation of his mood. ‘Jim’s just asked me to keep an eye on the ranch for him while they’re away—but don’t tell him I told you, puss,’ he tapped his cousin warningly on the nose. ‘So we won’t be able to be in England with them too.’ He looked back at her with equal challenge.

  ‘But——’

  ‘We have to leave now, honey,’ he cut in softly. ‘I need to get back to work, and there’s a storm coming up.’

  ‘Another one?’ Erin groaned her dismay, forgetting for the moment his implication that she would still be in Canada with him next year. Almost every day brought one of the electric storms. The vast changes in the temperature were blamed for these fierce storms, and Erin had found she didn’t like them, finding their intensity frightening, hating the loud thunder that accompanied the lightning; the whole house seemed to shake sometimes.

  Josh nodded. ‘And I think this one is going to be the worst one yet.’

  If Josh said so then she knew it to be a fact, he seemed to have a sixth sense about the storms. ‘Then we should be going,’ she agreed hastily. She certainly didn’t want to get caught in the thunder and lightning on the drive home.

  ‘Don’t give us that,’ Jim said laughingly. ‘We know you just want to get ho
me in time to watch the football on television,’ he teased his friend.

  Josh’s mouth quirked with humour. ‘How well you know me,’ he drawled.

  Jim gave him a steady look, suddenly serious as he glanced at Erin. ‘I thought I did, buddy. I thought I did.’ Josh met his friend’s gaze unflinchingly. ‘Don’t be deceived by impressions, Jim,’ he advised softly.

  Erin looked away. The two men’s conversation might not be completely out in the open, but its meaning was clear. Jim couldn’t understand Josh’s interest in her. She must obviously be different from the usual type Josh went for, and Josh was giving the other man the impression that there was more to her than met the eye.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ She turned on him angrily on the drive home.

  ‘What?’ His curtness was back with a vengeance.

  ‘You deliberately let them think—made them think, that you and I sleep together!’ she glared at him.

  ‘Rubbish.’

  ‘You did! You——’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Erin.’

  ‘Well, that’s too bad, because I do!’ Her voice rose in her anger. ‘What’s the matter, Josh? Is the Hawke ego so inflated that you had to let your friends think we were sleeping together even though we aren’t?’

  His eyes were like green pebbles as he looked at her coldly. ‘The “Hawke ego” isn’t inflated at all—at least, not where you’re concerned. I let Martha and Jim go on thinking what they did because when we saw them last week it was obvious that we were going to sleep together. Did it occur to you that it would have been more embarrassing, caused more speculation, if we’d continued to act as if we hate each other?’

  Hate each other? Her anger evaporated into numbed silence. She didn’t hate Josh, far from it, but it appeared Josh hated her.

  He switched on the football match once they got home, putting several cans of beer next to his chair as he waited for the match to start, an aura of silence surrounding him that he didn’t encourage her to break.

  Not that she wanted to; she was too miserable to want to enter into a conversation herself. She had entered into this situation sick of herself and everyone else, but now she felt even sicker. She, Erin Richards, the girl who had sworn that no man would ever hurt her again, had fallen in love with a man who cared nothing for her, a man who now found it difficult to even be polite to her, not even attempting to be so when they were alone.

  Suddenly he stood up, turning to look down at her. ‘I’m going up to the studio,’ he told her abruptly.

  ‘I—Okay,’ she shrugged. ‘But I thought you were watching the football.’

  ‘It isn’t what it used to be.’

  She couldn’t say she liked it. She had been expecting the English version of the game, belatedly remembering that was called soccer over here, the football being shown on the television being more like English rugby. And she didn’t like that either. The object of both games seemed, to her, to be to hurt your opponent, not to score points.

  ‘Then I might as well go to bed,’ she said resignedly.

  Josh scowled. ‘Don’t go on my account. If you don’t like the football then switch to another channel.’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘I—I’m feeling rather tired. Maybe I’ll sleep through the storm,’ she said hopefully.

  ‘I doubt it,’ he gave a rueful smile. ‘I can hear the rumbling of the thunder already.’

  So could she, which was why she would rather try and sleep through it. ‘Can Sheba come in?’ she asked.

  He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Do you want her to?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then let her in. You’re spoiling her, you know,’ he sighed. ‘Once you’re gone she’ll still expect to come in at night.’

  Erin had brought the dog into the house for company the last few evenings, but she hadn’t realised Josh had known about it, only bringing Sheba in once he had gone up to his studio. ‘She can guard as well from the inside as she can the outside,’ she defended; she and the dog had become quite good friends in Josh’s absence. The poor dog craved his love as badly as she did! ‘I’ll let her out if she hears anything.’

  ‘Okay,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Are you riding tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied stubbornly. Josh asked her the same question every night, hoping, she felt sure, that she would refuse. But she wouldn’t. She loved the closeness of their early morning rides together, and was unwilling to give them up. They rarely spoke during these rides, but the silence wasn’t strained as it was the rest of the day, but more companionable. Actually, the conversation they were having now was the longest they had had for a long time.

  ‘Seven o’clock,’ Josh murmured needlessly before leaving her.

  Erin stared dejectedly at the padded men moving about the football pitch, wishing she could take the knocks life kept giving her as easily as they took the tackles of the other players.

  A flash of lightning that lit up the whole house brought her out of her reverie, lighting up the gloom of the room brighter than any electric light. She hastily stood up and switched off the television, moving to let Sheba into the house. The dog licked her hand, sitting down at her feet.

  ‘I know, girl,’ she bent down to absently pat the dog’s head. ‘It’s horrible, isn’t it?’ Sheba didn’t seem particularly bothered by the storms they had been having, but it helped to be able to talk to someone. No doubt if Josh had known the full extent of her fear he would have stayed with her himself, but it wasn’t his forced company she wanted.

  Even though she had pulled the curtains she could still see the lightning as she lay in bed, the sky seeming to go pink for several long seconds before it was all darkness again. And then the thunder started, as Josh had predicted, the worst yet, the crash seeming to be overhead as the whole house trembled on its foundations.

  Erin buried her head under the bedclothes, wishing the storm would stop, but knowing from experience that it would go on for hours. She wasn’t usually nervous of storms, but she had never seen such lightning in England. And they were aptly named ‘electric storms’; you could almost see the air crackle.

  She couldn’t stand it any longer! Josh might not like her, and he might not want her in his studio, but she couldn’t be on her own a moment longer.

  She pulled her robe on over her serviceable pyjamas, padding her way out of the bedroom and up to the studio. She hesitated outside the door, a vicious crack of thunder overhead making her knock hastily on the door before entering. Josh had his back towards her, and didn’t seem aware of her presence, staring at the blank canvas in front of him.

  For several moments Erin forgot all about the storm, aware only of that blank canvas. Josh had been up here for hours without end, long into the night most of the time, and all he had to show for it was a blank canvas!

  ‘Josh . . .’

  He turned as if in a daze. ‘Erin?’

  ‘I— The storm,’ she shrugged her awkwardness. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

  He slowly stood up, pale beneath his tanned skin. ‘You shouldn’t have come up here.’

  She swallowed hard, not understanding his mood at all. ‘I—I was frightened. I thought perhaps I could just—sit up here with you?’

  ‘No,’ Josh shook his head.

  ‘No. . .?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He still spoke in that strange voice. ‘Of course, if you don’t want me here,’ she blinked back her tears, ‘I’ll go back to my room.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. You——’

  ‘Josh!’ she screamed as the lights suddenly went out, the darkness absolute. ‘Josh, where are you?’ she didn’t attempt to hide her panic. ‘Josh!’ She groped blindly in the blackness.

  ‘It’s all right, honey,’ he murmured close to her ear, his arms coming about her waist from behind. ‘I’ve got you.’ ‘Oh, Josh,’ she sobbed, turning into his body, her arms going up about his neck. ‘Hold me, Josh. Hold me!’

  ‘I have to,�
� his voice was ragged. ‘Oh God, Erin, I have to make love to you!’ and his mouth came down firmly on hers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE hunger of days was dammed up inside her, all of it coming out as she eagerly returned that kiss, her hands clinging to his shoulders as she arched against him.

  ‘Erin, Erin,’ Josh murmured between heated kisses, his hands fevered on her back, resting possessively on her hips to pull her into him, his thighs hard and demanding. ‘Erin, let me love you,’ he groaned. .

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed huskily, unbuttoning his shirt down to his navel, eagerly touching the hard flesh beneath.

  ‘God, I wish I could see your face!’

  She took one of his hands and placed it against her lips, kissing the palm lovingly. ‘You don’t need to see, Josh— touch.’

  ‘Touch . . .?’ he repeated shakily.

  ‘Yes,’ she buried her face in the dark hair on his chest, kissing his burning flesh.

  ‘God, yes!’ he groaned, his hand moving from her face to her breast, feeling each firm contour through her clothing. ‘You feel so good, Erin,’ he moaned.

  ‘So do you,’ she told him shyly, slipping the shirt from his broad shoulders.

  ‘Erin . . .!’ His mouth took possession of hers once again, his lips warm and moist, probing between her lips to tell her how deeply he desired her.

  Erin was on fire, eagerly helping Josh remove her robe, as his hand probed the vee-neckline of her pyjamas, touching the erect tautness of her nipple. An aching pleasure shot through her limbs, making her knees buckle beneath her, and she burrowed against Josh as he lifted her tenderly into his arms and carried her over to the velvet sheet that lay over the cushions on the floor, where he put her down among their softness, slowly undoing the buttons to her pyjama jacket, spreading it wide to reveal the rosy peaks of her tender young breasts.

  ‘God, I wish I could see you!’ he said once again.

  ‘Total recall, Josh,’ she reminded him huskily. ‘Remember?’