Melting Fire Read online

  ‘I see,’ Bella said now, very much on her dignity. ‘And when may we expect you back? You haven’t forgotten you have guests tomorrow evening, have you? I told you Richard had invited the Gerrards to dinner before he knew he had to go away. He’ll expect you to entertain them in his absence.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten,’ said Olivia, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from the skirt of her suede suit. It was a dull day, and she decided to wear the suit because it was adaptable, and made her look a little older, she thought. Certainly, its dusky beige colouring was attractive with her red-gold curls, and the silk shirt she wore with it was a contrasting shade of dark blue. ‘I’ll be back this evening,’ she continued, checking her hair in the mirror above Bella’s sideboard. ‘I’m not leaving, I’m just having a day out, that’s all. What is there to object about that?’

  Bella sniffed disapprovingly. ‘Don’t you think I’m entitled to know who you’re meeting? What if I need to get in touch with you? What if Richard should have an accident, and I need to reach you urgently?’

  ‘Oh, Bella!’ Olivia had to smile at this. ‘Why should Richard have an accident today?’ She hesitated a moment as a disturbing thought struck her. ‘Richard’s not flying home today, is he? You haven’t heard when he’s coming back?’

  Her stomach fluttered anxiously until Bella chose to relieve her. ‘I don’t know when he’s coming back,’ she declared stiffly. ‘You’d better ask Alex if you want to know that.’

  Olivia’s panic subsided. Alex would have told her if he had heard when Richard expected to return. Bella was just being deliberately obstructive, and she should have known better than to listen to her.

  ‘I’m sure nothing untoward will happen while I’m away,’ she said now, and Bella looked at her reprovingly.

  ‘So you’re not going to tell me.’

  ‘To tell you? To tell you what?’

  ‘Who it is you’re meeting.’

  ‘Oh—that.’ Olivia caught her lower lip between her teeth. Bella was like a dog worrying a bone. She never gave up. ‘As a matter of fact, his name is Jules: Jules Merignac!’

  Bella’s eyebrows arched. ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Olivia turned towards the door, but Bella wasn’t quite finished. ‘And what does he do for a living?’

  Olivia hesitated. ‘He—well, he’s in show business.’

  ‘Show business!’ Bella was plainly horrified, and Olivia hastened on:

  ‘He’s a singer. Quite a famous singer, actually. He’s had a record in the British charts, and now he’s coming over to make an album.’

  Bella put a hand to her throat. ‘You mean, he’s a—pop singer!’ she gasped, in much the same tone she might have used if Olivia had told her she was taking to the streets. ‘Oh, Olivia, I don’t know what Richard would say if he knew!’

  Olivia made a gesture of impatience. ‘Don’t let’s go into all that again, Bella. This is my life, and I’m living it.’

  Bella shook her head. ‘Are you taking your car to London?’ she asked, and Olivia could tell she was imagining what might happen to it if she did.

  ‘No,’ she replied now, making a show of looking at her watch. ‘I shall drive to Chelmsbury and take the train from there. Like Richard does,’ she finished, with wry humour.

  ‘And you’ll be back this evening?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. I’ve said so, haven’t I?’

  ‘What if Richard calls?’

  ‘Tell him I’m out.’ Olivia spoke confidently enough, though inside she quailed a little. ‘But he won’t call, Bella, and you know it.’ She paused in the doorway. ‘You’ll be all right, won’t you? Mrs Garnett will get you your lunch and dinner.’

  ‘Much good it would do if I said I wouldn’t,’ retorted Bella unforgivingly, and Olivia left feeling distinctly guilty about the whole affair.

  In the train going up to town, however, she had other thoughts on her mind. Richard’s lovemaking had alerted her to an awareness of her own sensuality, and she could not help worrying how she would react if Jules tried to take advantage of this. Had he seen that wantonness in her? Was it evident? Was that why he was attracted to her? Because he thought she would be good in bed?

  Her palms moistened uncomfortably. She had never considered herself particularly sensual. Her experiences with boys had never aroused any strong feelings inside her, and she would not have dreamed that any man could take such complete and utter control of her emotions. That Richard had made her feel a stranger to herself made the prospect of meeting Jules again that much more disturbing.

  It was barely ten-thirty when she reached London, and after only a second’s hesitation she changed trains for Heathrow. She had plenty of time to reach the airport, and jogging along in the tube was so much less frustrating than facing the clogging traffic above ground. Most people travelling to Heathrow had suitcases or airline bags, and she felt quite unhampered with only her handbag to carry.

  Terminal 1 was busy as on the day she had arrived from Paris, and after checking the arrivals board, she had a cup of coffee in the lounge. So many people coming and going, she thought, but at least the strike was over and they didn’t have to carry their own suitcases. Remembering her struggle through the long corridors of the building, she was glad for their sakes that they didn’t.

  The arrival of the Paris plane was announced a few minutes later, and leaving the remains of her coffee in her cup, she made her way to the arrivals lounge. She remembered what Jules had said about identifying herself to the officials, but she was afraid they would think she was some hopeful groupie, making up a tale for their benefit. She waited patiently until the aircraft had disgorged its passengers before moving tentatively forward. She supposed she should position herself where he could not fail to see her, but she was not really keen to do this either. What if he failed to recognise her? What if he was swept away in a welter of fans? She wasn’t the type to fight for his attention.

  The sound of her own name being called over the tannoy system startled her badly. For one awful moment, she wondered if Richard had found out where she was and come looking for her, but then she realised how stupid that was. Only one person knew there was any likelihood of her being at Heathrow airport on this day at this time, and she hurried eagerly towards the information desk.

  Jules was waiting for her in an ante-room. Tall and very slender, in tight-fitting green pants and a yellow sweater, his shoulder-length brown hair confined beneath a velvet cap, he was exactly as she remembered him, and to her embarrassment, and the amusement of the officials around him, he immediately gathered her into his arms and bestowed a warm, lingering kiss on her parted lips.

  ‘Enfin!’ he breathed with some satisfaction. ‘You came! When you were not waiting for me, I thought you had changed your mind.’

  Olivia disentangled herself with difficulty, though it was a good feeling, knowing he was not afraid to show these people that he cared for her.

  ‘I—I wasn’t sure this was your flight,’ she murmured, smoothing her hair with a nervous hand, but Jules was not deceived.

  ‘You knew,’ he declared softly, and then spared her blushes to introduce her to his friend and road manager, André Matisse, his agent Charles Bernel, and the members of the airport staff assigned to look after him.

  ‘This is a private visit, you understand?’ he explained, as they were escorted to a pair of limousines, waiting to take them to the city. Only one or two women had recognised him, and Olivia was relieved. The last thing she wanted was her face splashed across the front of a newspaper, with headlines that she was Jules Merignac’s latest conquest. ‘There are to be no concerts, no personal appearances,’ he continued. ‘Just work, and …’ his eyes lingered on her mouth, ‘… pleasure!’

  Olivia and Jules were given the first car to themselves, the other members of his entourage travelling in the vehicle behind. With a glass screen separating them from the uniformed chauffeur, they could speak privately, and for the first time sinc
e leaving Copley that morning Olivia relaxed.

  ‘So,’ Jules stroked back the silky curls from her brow, ‘big brother is not watching you today, non?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia’s smile was tentative. ‘He’s in New York, actually. He left a few days ago.’

  ‘Ah.’ Jules nodded, and bent his head to touch her mouth once more.

  Olivia was stiff and unyielding at first, half afraid of the emotions he might arouse inside her, but his gentleness disarmed her. Soft and probing his kiss teased her mouth, and she found her lips parting in reluctant response. He murmured softly to her in his own language as he pressed her back against the leather upholstery, his hands sliding beneath the jacket of her suit to hold her closer.

  A feeling of relief swept over her when he released her mouth to seek the scented hollow of her throat. His kisses had been as eager and as urgent as she could have wished, yet there had been no assault on her senses. She had enjoyed his lovemaking, just as she was enjoying his fingers caressing the nape of her neck. She half hoped he would kiss her again. But there had been no uncontrollable impulses, no urge to incite his passion, and no loss of identity. Whatever madness had gripped her when Richard held her in his arms had been exorcised, and she was determined never to succumb to that kind of sickness again.

  Jules’s hotel was one of the most expensive in London, and the suite of rooms which had been booked for him rivalled any that Olivia had seen. A buffet lunch was awaiting them, which they shared with the other members of his party, and then his business managers departed about their own affairs and left them alone.

  To begin with, they had plenty to talk about, Olivia explaining how she had passed the week since she left Paris, and Jules describing the concert he had given the night after she left. He wanted to know everything about her, however, and for a while she talked about Copley, and her relationship with Richard, and Bella’s part in both their lives.

  ‘So this—Miss Ponsonby, she is like a mother to you?’ Jules observed lightly, and Olivia nodded, wondering uneasily how Bella would respond to someone like him.

  ‘But it is—Richard’s good graces I must cultivate,’ he remarked now, and she shrugged her slim shoulders.

  ‘I’ve told Richard, I have my own life to lead. If he doesn’t like my friends, that’s no big deal. I don’t like all his friends, so why should he care?’

  ‘But he does?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  Jules came to join her on the striped Regency couch, sliding his arm along the back of the seat behind her. ‘No doubt he cares about you,’ he declared, gently, touching her cheek with his fingers. ‘I can appreciate his feelings. You are a beautiful girl, Olivia. Any brother would feel the same.’

  Olivia shivered, but it was not Jules who had incited the involuntary chill she experienced. ‘Richard is too—possessive,’ she said, trying to be objective. ‘He wants to run my life for me.’

  Jules smiled at her frustration. ‘He probably sees fortune-hunters behind every corner,’ he observed, mixing his prepositions. ‘And why not? The Jenner Corporation is world-famous.’

  ‘You know about that?’ Olivia was startled, but he touched her nose with a reproving finger.

  ‘Every one has heard of Jenner Chemicals,’ he replied firmly. ‘They are manufactured in Switzerland as well as England, are they not? I myself have swallowed some of their capsules. It is not a well-kept secret, Olivia.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Olivia sighed.

  ‘You are thinking that perhaps I am also a fortune-hunter?’ he queried, softly, and her cheeks flamed.

  ‘No!’

  ‘But yes, I can see it in your eyes.’ He shook his head. ‘Mignonne, would I have told you I knew about the Jenner corporation if I was hoping to insinuate myself in your affections for that reason? Would I not have pretended ignorance until our relationship was more firmly established?’

  Olivia looked at him ruefully. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Chérie, I do not wish to boast, but I am not a poor man. Look about you! Look at this suite that I am paying for! Would I stay at the best hotel in London if I could not afford to do so?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So …’ He lifted her chin. ‘Let us forget about big brother, and talk about ourselves, hein? These two weeks I have will soon pass. Let us make the most of them.’

  This time his kiss was different, harder, more passionate, and Olivia did not like it so much. When his hand separated her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, and slid beneath against the bare skin of her back, she fought away from him, and was red-faced and breathless when he got to his feet and paced half angrily across the room.

  ‘Mon dieu, qu’est-ce que tu as?’ he demanded roughly, turning to face her. ‘What did I do wrong? You are not a prude, are you, Olivia?’

  ‘A prude?’ Olivia licked her lips. She would not have thought so. Indeed, a feeling of hysteria was rising inside her at the realisation that far from losing control with Jules, she was afraid to let him touch her. ‘I—why, no,’ she denied now. ‘It’s just that—well, I—I——’

  ‘Ah, non, non!’ He stared at her, clasping a hand to his head. ‘Tu n’es pas vierge! C’est impossible!’

  Olivia’s face burned. She understood only too well what he was saying, and never had her virginity made her feel so immature. What price now the ambitions she had had during the flight home from the finishing school? They seemed to have fled from the moment Richard began to treat her differently. Since the morning he arrived back from Greece, she had been seeking to restore normality by clinging to past relationships, and forsaken her ideas of sexual equality. Then that unforgettable encounter with Richard had further deterred her awakening emotions, and she could no longer view a casual affair with any confidence. On the contrary, Richard’s assault, and she refused to regard it as anything more than that, had shown her how little she knew, and she instinctively shrank from such intimacy. It wasn’t what she wanted, and perhaps she was old-fashioned enough to demand marriage before giving herself to any man.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said now, getting to her feet, but Jules had had a moment to think things over and he came towards her impatiently, waving her back on to the couch.

  ‘Non, non, it is I who must say sorry,’ he muttered, albeit ruefully. ‘I was clumsy, but you are—how do you say it?—unusual …’

  ‘An anachronism, you mean,’ declared Olivia unevenly, avoiding his apologetic hands, and his brows drew together.

  ‘Ana—anachronism?’ he said, with evident difficulty. ‘Non, what is this? I do not understand.’

  ‘It means—old-fashioned,’ she explained, surreptitiously tucking her shirt back into her skirt. ‘I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake. I don’t—sleep around.’

  ‘Non, non!’ Jules seemed determined to make amends. ‘You misunderstand me, chérie.’ He captured her hands at last and held them against his chest so that she could feel his rapidly beating heart. ‘You do not realise what kissing a beautiful girl does to a man! And you are beautiful,’ he insisted, his eyes warm and caressing as they examined her flushed cheeks. ‘I can hardly keep my hands from you.’

  The breath Olivia drew was shaky, but she was feeling a little less alarmed now, and his understanding was reassuring after her experience with Richard. ‘The—the girls at school would never believe I’d never had an affair,’ she confessed huskily, and a look of wry speculation entered his eyes at her words. ‘They talked about things like that a lot.’

  Jules nodded, raising her fingers to his lips. ‘I can understand,’ he murmured gently. ‘You seem so—so sophisticated!’

  ‘Do I?’ Olivia grimaced. ‘It just shows how deceptive appearances can be.’

  Jules stared at her gravely for a few moments, then he said: ‘Big brother has taken his task sérieusement, I can see that,’ which was not what she wanted to hear at all.

  Pulling away from him, she reached for her jacket, and said: ‘I think I’d better go. We—I—this has all
been a terrible mistake——’

  ‘Non!’ He caught her arm urgently. ‘Chérie, why are you leaving? You know how I feel about you. You know why I behaved as I did. I want you. I do not deny that. And I think perhaps that you want me, too, only it is too soon—I can see that. Don’t go. Stay with me. Spend the day with me. Let us get to know one another. There is plenty of time. Two weeks is plenty of time for two people to get to know one another. Trust me, please. I will not hurt you, I promise.’

  His plea was appealing, the more so because she wanted to believe him, she wanted her faith in him to be justified, and because she hated the idea of returning home sooner than expected and having to tell Bella that her day had not been an unqualified success. Besides, what he had done was really no more than she had expected, and just because she found she could not go through with it right now, did not mean that the time would never come when she would want him to make love to her. It was too soon, that was all, and it was flattering that he was prepared to wait.

  ‘All right,’ she submitted now, allowing him to return her jacket to its resting place. ‘I’ll stay.’

  ‘You won’t regret it,’ he assured her, unable to resist the temptation to stroke his fingers down the inner skin of her arm, and she shivered in anticipation of a closer relationship. It would come, she was sure it would, and when it came she would be ready for it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JULES himself drove her back to Copley soon after eleven o’clock that evening, and in the days that followed Olivia saw him frequently—much to Bella’s obvious disapproval.

  The old nursemaid had been waiting for her that first evening when Jules drove her home, and because of her hostile presence, Olivia could not invite him in for a nightcap as she had intended to do. On the contrary, the old lady’s behaviour had smacked strongly of a parole officer awaiting the return of a prisoner, and after the hired car had departed she and Olivia had had quite an argument. She had been sharply scathing about the young man who had been introduced to her, and Olivia had wanted to know why she thought she had the right to choose her friends for her. The upshot of it all had been a state of armed truce between them, and because Olivia had refused to be deterred and continued to see the young Frenchman, it was left to Alex, as usual, to try and mend the situation.