Season of Shadows (21 page)

'Is he a friend, or a lover?'

'Don't be ridiculous! Alex—' She bit her lip,
cursing herself for that slip of the tongue in her moment of anger.

'So it's Alex, is it?' he smiled cynically, lessening the
distance between them until he towered over her like a hawk preparing
for the kill. 'Alex
who
?'

'It's none of your business!' she snapped furiously, only
to find her shoulders gripped in fingers of steel intent on punishment.

'That's where you're wrong, Laura. It's very much my
business.' His voice was low and dangerous. 'Do you tell me freely, or
do I have to force the truth out of you?'

'You have no right to question me like this,' she
protested hotly. 'I don't question your affair with Countess von
Dissel, and I—'

'Be very careful what you say, Laura,' he interrupted, his
hands biting deeper into the soft flesh of her upper arms, and his
nearness a bitter-sweet agony that made her want to weep. 'Now, tell
me,' he insisted, his eyes like twin blades piercing her soul. 'Who is
this man you've been seeing?'

'His name is Alex Muir,' she relented in fear. 'He's an
artist, and he was responsible for the decor of that new business
centre in the city.'

'Is he your lover?' he shot the next question at her,
making her flinch.

She shook her head dumbly, unable to speak past the lump
in her throat.

'
Don't lie to me, damn you
!' he
shouted, shaking her until it felt as if her neck would snap.

'I'm
not
lying to you,' she gasped,
her head falling forward until her hair veiled the tears on her thick,
dark lashes. 'Please, you're h-hurting m-me,' she begged at last,
unable to stand the pain a moment longer.

'Do you expect me to believe you went to this man's flat
for two days in a row, and that your association with him is purely
platonic?' he demanded cynically, slackening his grip on her arms, but
not releasing her. 'What do you think I am, Laura? A halfwit?'

She raised her head and stared unwaveringly for a moment
into those cold, accusing eyes, then she said with complete honesty,
'I've been going to Alex's flat every morning for the past two weeks.'

'So I'm getting the truth at last, am I?' he grated, his
lips drawn back against his teeth in a sneer, then she was released
with a suddenness that made her stagger. 'Go on,' he ordered harshly.
'I'm waiting for an explanation.'

'I met Alex once, very briefly, at the start of our
holiday at Gordon's Bay, and we met for the second time at the opening
of that new business centre.'

'Was that when you both discovered that you had an undying
passion for each other?'

Laura felt like slapping him, but she curled her fingers
tightly into her palms. 'The only passion Alex has ever displayed in my
presence is his passion for art,' she said tritely. 'He's doing a
portrait of me.'

'At his suggestion, or yours?' Anton wanted to know, his
eyes narrowing.

'It was at his suggestion.'

His mouth curved derisively. 'It's a nude study, no doubt.'

'Just what do you think I am, Anton?' she demanded
hoarsely, her eyes sparkling with an inner anger.

'You're my wife, and I forbid you to see this man again,'
he stated coldly.

'I'm afraid I have to go for the final sitting tomorrow.'

'Forget it!' Anton thundered, towering over her once more
in a way that made her tremble inwardly with renewed fear. 'I will not
have people making nasty speculations about my wife!'

'Do you prefer them to make nasty speculations about
Camilla and yourself?' Laura countered swiftly in a flash of anger she
could not control.

Anton went peculiarly white about the mouth, then one hand
encircled her throat, exerting a pressure which almost shut off her
supply of air. 'Don't drive me too far, Laura,' he warned savagely.
'You will not see this man again. Do I make myself clear?'

Dizzy, and horrifyingly close to fainting, she said
hastily, 'Very clear.'

She was released at once and stood swaying before him for
a moment until her head cleared, then, choking back a sob, she wrenched
open the door to beat a hasty retreat up to her room.

Dinner was a silent affair that evening, with Anton seated
morosely at the head of the table. Sally ventured a questioning glance
in Laura's direction, but Laura gestured her unobtrusively to silence,
and afterwards they both trouped upstairs without speaking.

Alone in her room once more, Laura supposed it
had
been wrong of her to agree to sit for Alex without Anton knowing, but
she felt that Anton was as much to blame for the existing situation. He
had openly encouraged Camilla, and had made no secret of the fact that
he had preferred her company. Now that her anger and her hurt had
subsided, she realised that her visits to Alex's flat could very easily
have been interpreted incorrectly. When they saw his flat, of course,
they would realise their mistake, but… Oh, damn!

A car came up the drive, and, thinking it might be Graham,
Laura touched up her make-up and went
downstairs
a few minutes later. She heard the low murmur of Anton's deep-throated
voice as she crossed the hall, but it was Camilla's voice which made
her jerk to a halt when she reached the living-room door.

'Anton darling,' Laura heard her say, 'you really must try
to hurry things along a little.'

'I'm doing my best, Camilla, but it will be soon, I
promise you,' Anton replied in a calm, reassuring voice.

'I can't wait,' Camilla sighed.

'Neither can I,' Anton agreed with a hint of impatience in
his voice, and through the chink in the door Laura saw Camilla move
towards Anton, presumably into his arms.

She did not stay to witness more, and, turning blindly,
she made her way upstairs as swiftly as her trembling legs would allow.
When she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom Camilla's 'I can't wait'
ricocheted tauntingly through her mind, and hard at its heels followed
Anton's impatient, 'Neither can I.'

'Dear heaven,' she thought as she lowered her trembling
body on to the bed and buried her face in her hands, 'how-much pain and
suffering can one person endure before that stage is reached where it
no longer matters?'

Laura slept badly that night, but when she awoke the
following morning she had come to a decision about what she would do.
She was going to Alex's flat for that final sitting, regardless of what
Anton might say or do.

'I'm not supposed to be here,' she told Alex later that
morning as she arranged herself into her usual position on the low
stool near the window.

'Why not?' Alex asked, glancing at her sharply. .

'Anton has discovered that I've been coming here,' she
explained, bitterness curving her mouth. 'He thinks we're having an
affair, and has forbidden me to see you again.'

'You shouldn't have kept it a secret from him that you
were coming here to have your portrait painted.'

'Perhaps,' she shrugged carelessly. 'But if he can do just
as he pleases, why can't I?'

'That's a dangerous attitude to adopt with a man like Anton DeVere,' Alex warned. 'You should know better than I
do that he's not the kind of man to accept that type of reasoning.'

'He's selfish, egotistical, arrogant, and—'

'And you love him,' Alex filled in quietly for her when
she paused.

For a moment Laura could not speak, then she groaned, 'Oh,
God, I wish I were dead!'

'Cheer up, Laura. Things are usually never as bad as they
seem,' he reassured her with that flashing smile which usually drew a
similar response from her. 'How's the head?'

'It's aching a bit this morning, but I'll survive.'

I'll survive
. Her own words echoed
back at her hollowly while Alex worked on in silence. She would
survive, but she would not have lived. She swallowed down the painful
lump in her throat, and stared fixedly out of the window in an effort
not to cry, but the restless, turbulent sea offered her no peace of
mind, nor the comfort she so desperately needed.

'You can relax, Laura,' Alex said at last, putting down
his brushes. 'It's done.'

'May I look now?' she asked eagerly, swinging her legs
stiffly to the floor.'

'Not yet,' he smiled. 'I still have to add the finishing
touches, but for that I regrettably shan't be requiring your delightful
presence.'

Laura stared at him for a moment, taking in the
sun-bleached hair, and the tall, lanky body clad in old denims and
paint-bespattered blue shirt. In a short space of time he had become
her friend, and someone she could confide in, she thought, and then she
sighed, 'I think I'm going to miss these sessions here with you.'

'I don't think,' he grinned at her ruefully. 'I
know
I'm going to miss not having you here.'

There was something in those hazel eyes; something she had
not seen there before, and she found it flattering as well as
disturbing.

'You will let me see the portrait before you exhibit it,
won't you?' she changed the subject quickly.

'I won't exhibit it without letting you see it first, nor
will I exhibit it without your husband's permission.'

'You don't need permission from Anton,' she stated
indignantly.

Alex smiled indulgently, but remained adamant. 'I think it
would perhaps be advisable to get his permission.'

'Do as you please,' she sighed at length, and suddenly the
shrill peal of the doorbell quivered along her nerves, filling her with
an acute sense of danger. 'Alex?'

He looked down at her hand clutching his arm, and covered
it briefly with his strong, artistic fingers. 'Take it easy.'

The doorbell pealed again—impatiently this
time—and Alex crossed the room to answer it. Anton,
formidable and frightening, filled the doorway, and Laura's heart
lurched with sickening fear as their eyes met across the space dividing
them.

'I've come to collect my wife,' he stated harshly, barely
acknowledging Alex as he strode past him in Laura's direction, and
suddenly she transgressed beyond the point of fear to a peak of anger
which seemed to shake through her like a volcanic eruption.

'I'm not a package in some lost property department which
has to be collected, Anton,' she said in a voice that was shaking with
the force of her emotions. 'I came here on my own, and I shall leave
that way when it suits me.'

'You're coming with me
now
!' he
thundered at her, his dominating presence making the room shrivel in
size, but Laura refused to be intimidated.

'You have a nerve coming here and ordering me about like
this!' she snapped.

'I think you'd better do as your husband suggests, Laura,
and go with him,' Alex spoke for the first time, and Anton turned on him with barely concealed savageness.

'That's sensible advice, Muir,' he said through clenched
teeth. 'You might as well know that at this moment I'd like nothing
better than to knock your teeth in!'

'Anton!' Laura cried out at once, ashamed as well as
angered that he should behave in this manner towards a man who had
treated her with nothing but kindness and respect.

'Get your coat,' Anton snapped. 'You're leaving.'

She could almost feel his body vibrating with anger, and
one look at the taut, hard line of his jaw made her realise that she
would be tempting fate to continue defying him.

She picked up her coat and handbag, and barely had time to
apologise to Alex before cruel fingers bit into her arm, and ushered
her out to the lift.

What happened afterwards was close to a nightmare. Anton
followed her all the way to Bellavista in his Jaguar, travelling so
close behind her that she could almost feel him breathing fire down her
neck. Her hands were shaking, and twice she stalled the car. On the
second occasion, however, Anton climbed out of his Jaguar and strode
across to her with quick, angry strides. He jerked open the door at her
side, and his fury washed over her like a merciless storm battering the
vulnerable coast, and it left her considerably more shaken than before.

Perilously close to tears, she took refuge in anger, and
when she finally drove through Bellavista's gates with Anton hot on her
trail, she felt more than ready to face him once more.

In the absolute privacy of their bedroom, Laura observed
Anton a little warily while he took off his jacket, removed his tie,
and undid the top button of his shirt as if it choked him. His
movements were jerky with suppressed violence, and despite the angry
bitterness churning through her, she had to admire his magnificent
physique, and the proud tilt of his head above the broad, powerful
shoulders.

The atmosphere was electrifyingly tense between them when
he finally turned on her and demanded harshly, 'Just what did you mean
by disobeying my orders?'

'Just what did you mean by barging into Alex's flat and
behaving as though I were an errant schoolgirl indulging in an illicit
love affair?' she countered angrily.

His nostrils flared. 'I warn you, Laura…'

'Don't threaten me!' she almost shouted at him, her eyes
dark and mutinous. 'I've taken about as much as I can stand from you.
Circumstances forced us into this hateful marriage, but that's no
reason why you should have treated me as abominably as you have.'

'My God, haven't I given you enough?' he demanded with
harsh cynicism. 'I gave you my name, my home, and all the comforts a
man in my position could offer the woman he married. What more do you
want?'

She clenched her hands at her sides in an effort to stop
them from shaking. 'There are other things a woman needs besides that.'

'Such as what, for instance?' Those steely eyes raked her
from head to foot with an insulting arrogance which stung deeply.
'Don't tell me that the amount I've been depositing into your banking
account isn't enough, or that you haven't derived any satisfaction from
my lovemaking.'