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  Nicola turned and sped into her bedroom, but once there she didn’t wait to dress in case he disappeared again, but wrapped herself in a silk housecoat, and tied the belt securely about her slim waist. Her hair was still damp and hung limply about her shoulders, but there was nothing she could do about that, and make-up would have seemed stupid and artificial after he had seen her without it.

  When she emerged, he was standing with his back to her, staring out across the balcony to the coastline beyond. ‘Some view,’ he said, without turning.

  ‘Yes.’ Nicola’s voice was still uneven.

  ‘Harold took this suite, I hear.’

  ‘Yes.’ There seemed nothing else to add.

  Jason turned. ‘He seems to treat you very considerately,’ he said dryly. ‘I wonder why?’

  Nicola bent her head. ‘He—he asked me to marry him,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I know. He told me.’ Jason studied her bent head. ‘What did you say?’

  Nicola looked up. ‘Didn’t he tell you that, too?’

  ‘No.’ Jason’s voice was hard. ‘You tell me.’

  Nicola shivered. ‘I—I haven’t given him—a—definite answer,’ she faltered.

  ‘Oh? Why not? Surely his expectations are sufficient for any woman.’

  ‘Stop being so sarcastic,’ she said, looking up rather angrily. ‘What—what are you doing here? Wh—where is Sir Harold?’

  ‘In Gitana,’ replied Jason, answering her second question first. ‘As to the other, I rather thought you wanted to see me.’ He stared at her intently. ‘To ascertain that I was unharmed!’ That was mocking.

  Nicola clenched her fists. ‘Well, I can see you—you’re fine,’ she said, unsteadily. ‘I’m glad. And—and I’d like to apologize for causing you so much trouble before. Sir—Sir Harold explained what happened.’

  ‘I see.’ Jason nodded. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers and came across to her, standing looking down at her with dark disturbing eyes. ‘Is that all?’

  Nicola’s nerves were jumping, and she wished he would move away from her. Close like this all she wanted to do was press herself against him and to hell with the consequences.

  ‘How—how did you get here?’ she asked, for something to say.

  Jason took one hand out of his pocket and fingered the material of her housecoat. ‘By the company jet,’ he replied. ‘This is nice. Did Sir Harold buy it?’

  Nicola’s eyes mirrored the hurt he had inflicted. ‘You brute!’ she said shakily. ‘Oh, I wish I’d never come here. I hate you!’

  Jason took his other hand out of his pocket and slid it round her, caressing her back very gently. ‘Oh, Nicola,’ he groaned unsteadily, ‘for God’s sake, give me some encouragement! Stop behaving like the prim heroine of some nineteenth-century romance. I want you. You know that as well as I do, but do you want me?’

  Nicola’s face was very close to his. ‘Yes,’ she said, very softly, ‘I want you—you don’t know how much!’

  Jason pulled her close against him, his mouth seeking the soft scented warmth of her shoulders before finding the parted sweetness of her mouth. His kisses were not gentle, they were hard and passionate and demanding, and Nicola realized that whatever he demanded of her she would give, willingly. Those lean brown hands that she had wanted to touch her aroused her body to the full awareness of her needs, and it was Jason who at last pushed her a little away from him.

  ‘Oh, Nicola,’ he muttered thickly, ‘I adore you. But unless we stop this now, I won’t be able to stop at all!’ His hands were unsteady as he drew out his cigarettes and put one between his lips. When it was lit, he put out a hand and slid it up her bare arm, inside the wide sleeves of the housecoat, as though he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Then he pulled her to him again, and said unevenly:

  ‘Harold ought to have had more sense, sending me here alone. You’re much too much of a temptation.’

  Nicola unbuttoned his jacket and slid her arms round him, pressing her face against his chest. ‘I think I’m supposed to be,’ she murmured achingly. ‘Oh, Jason, I love you, I love you, I love you!’

  Jason’s arms closed around her, and he muttered: ‘Nicola, I ought not to be holding you like this feeling the way I do. Try and understand how self-sacrificing I’m being.’ There was a smile in his voice.

  Nicola looked up. ‘I don’t want you to be self-sacrificing,’ she whispered daringly.

  Jason’s eyes darkened. ‘Nicola,’ he said tautly, ‘I’m going to marry you, and I’m prepared to wait a little while longer until I’m legally entitled to make you mine.’

  Nicola drew back. ‘Are—are you sure you want that? I mean-well, after everything. I was such a pig to you.’

  Jason smiled. ‘Oh, Nicola, I have no intention of letting Sir Harold Mannering or anyone else have the right to touch you. You’re going to be Mrs. Jason Wilde, and I’ll do as Harold wants and accept the seat on the board, but first—and most important of all—we’re going to have some time away together, even if the pipeline at Castanya never gets completed.’

  Nicola’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, yes, the coup!’ she exclaimed. ‘What’s happened?’

  Jason drew her down on to the couch at his side. ‘Well, it’s all over now. Sheikh Mohammed is in exile, I believe, and the Army are in control. I think the trouble he was attempting to cause about me bothering him was the final straw to his ministers. His see-saw game of politics was over.’

  ‘Sir Harold said you attacked him. Did you?’

  Jason smiled again. ‘Does that appeal to your femininity? That I should fight over you?’

  ‘Not exactly. But it’s nice to know you can—if it’s necessary,’ she replied mischievously.

  Jason shook his head. ‘Well, anyway, it’s all in the past.’ His face grew serious. ‘Tell me—that day I came to your flat, why didn’t you give me a sign—anything—to show you wouldn’t have exactly objected to my—well, touching you?’ He fingered her hair caressingly.

  Nicola sighed. ‘I—I thought you couldn’t be serious. I mean—after what I’d tried to do to you, I felt sure you must hate me.’

  ‘God!’ Jason rested his head back against the soft upholstery. ‘If you’d only known! I wanted to strangle you and then when I saw you—I just wanted to love you.’

  ‘I wish you had,’ she murmured softly.

  ‘So do I,’ he agreed. ‘So—now—you’ll give Harold his answer, will you? I think he’s arriving here late this evening. The jet’s gone right back and knowing him he’ll be inquisitive enough to want to know the situation.’

  Nicola laughed. ‘Yes, I’ll tell him,’ she said. ‘By the way, do you think we ought to tell him that I really didn’t know you before going out to Castanya?’

  Jason leaned over her. ‘No. Why should we? That can be our secret. Besides, I feel as though I’ve known you all my life—or maybe I’ve just been waiting for you all my life.’

  Nicola slid her fingers up his chest. ‘Darling, what was that you said about encouragement…?’

  ISBN-13: 9781460347683

  DARK ENEMY

  © 1972 Anne Mather

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