If I were totally free—if I could choose for myself—where would I be?
And the answer came clear, with no possibility of denial.
I would be here. Here with Leon.
Because there has never been anyone like him before in my life and being with him is all I want!
It was a truth she could no longer deny. Yet even as she accepted it she felt the cry come from deep within her.
If only … If only I were here with him without anything to do with my father! Without the hideous pressure he is putting on me! If only I were here with Leon and the threat to Harford, to my grandmother, never existed! If only my father had not tainted and befouled what I want so much! This time with Leon … this precious time!
Because if that were so … If that were so, she knew, with deep, absolute certainty, that she would be here willingly, joyously. With absolute conviction in what she was doing. Giving in to the overpowering need to succumb to what he had lit within her like a flame.
There has never been anyone like him—never been anything like the response he evokes in me! Never before—and never again …
Why it had happened she could not tell. Why this man she did not know. She knew only that it was so—that it had happened—and she could no more deny it or defy it than cease to breathe. The truth of it was as radiant as the sun setting in liquid fire, its last rays streaming all around her, turning the world to gold.
Anguish clutched at her. That what she felt for Leon, this extraordinary flame of burning desire, should be so sullied by what her father was doing to her was unbearable—unbearable that her father should be soiling it with his foul demands and threats! Making something shameful of what should have been so wonderful!
And then, as she gazed at him, her anguish in her face, his eyes met hers. Blazed with sudden desire impossible to veil. And in that moment, as she met the full charge, she felt something shift and change and resolve in her.
So what if her father was trying to exploit her for his own ends? Trying to manipulate her, threatening and blackmailing her, making her feel soiled and ashamed? She was doing what he wanted for her grandmother’s sake—and the knowledge seared within her that it was what she wanted, too! What she wanted with all her being.
Words formed in her head. Strong—resolute. From the inner core of her.
What is happening is happening. I will not let what my father is doing poison and destroy it. I will not let it taint and sully it.
She would put everything aside but her own feelings for Leon. Nothing her father could do could poison them! She would not allow it—would not permit it! She would put aside everything her father had said, and threatened, and insinuated, and manipulated. Because one shining truth was blazing within her, as golden and glorious as the setting sun bathing the world in beauty: she was here, now, because she wanted to be, because she would of her own free choice be nowhere else but here, with Leon. Going forward with him to wherever he would take her, on a journey she had never taken before—on a journey into the heart of desire and its burning, incandescent fulfilment.
She would give herself to him and let nothing taint this time—nothing!
Like light and warmth, the resolution streamed through her, blazed from her eyes. Her gaze hung on Leon’s, and in his dark, beautiful eyes she saw suddenly, like a fire kindling, an answering blaze. For one endless moment it was there—a moment of intensity she had never known before. Then, as if it was overwhelming her, like breathing pure oxygen or gazing into the heart of the too-bright sun, she dropped her gaze, breathless with sudden, extraordinary happiness.
Across the table Leon felt his senses reeling. Triumph—more than triumph!—coursed through him. For the first time he had seen in Flavia what he had so long ached to see: the fire of her response to him acknowledged, admitted—accepted. Relief filled him, deep and profound. The knowledge that finally he had broken through that endless guard she’d held up to him,
keeping him at bay, holding him off. Gratitude welled within him, and resolve—resolve that her new-found trust in him would never be betrayed. He would take her only where she herself wanted to go, on the journey that awaited them into the heart of desire—desire fulfilled …
Emotion moved within him, making him pause. A sense of wonder filled him—a sense of gratitude that this beautiful, beautiful woman, as wary as a doe, had been granted to him.
I will not hurt her or let her down. I will be worthy of her. I will not betray her trust in me, so valued because it was so hard-won …
But he must still proceed slowly, carefully, he knew. She must not be rushed or overhwhelmed lest she take fright again, hide once more behind that frigid wall surrounding her. He cast about for something easy to talk about—some unpressured, uncontentious topic that would help to draw her out, set her yet more at her ease, build on the fragile trust that had put forth its precious green shoots this evening.
Ironically, he knew that what he wanted was to find out much more about her. There was so little he knew—even where she lived. Well, it was no matter. Gradually, as they got to know each other fully, they would talk more about themselves, have no secrets from each other. Already, the previous evening, he had found himself telling her about his work to help others living as he once had himself—a subject he did not usually dwell on in company. There were those in the world he moved in now who found the thought of such dire poverty uncomfortable, unsettling.
Flavia hadn’t seemed to, though—and it had been the sincerity of her sympathy, briefly expressed as it had been, that had shown him she was not the shallow, venal, pampered princess he’d feared she might be, given her wealthy background and given, he thought, with an inward frown, her father’s utter lack of sensibility about the plight of others in the world! But Flavia was clearly cut from a different cloth from her father—he trusted that instinctively.
As if catching his thoughts, she spoke, pre-empting his mental search for a safe, neutral topic to converse on with her.
‘You mentioned last night you’d set up projects to help those trapped in poverty in the Third World?’ she ventured. ‘What sort of enterprises are most effective?’
There was genuine interest in her enquiry. Even so, she was conscious that she was seeking a subject that would give him the role of talking the most. Her own thoughts and emotions were in freefall, and she needed time—precious time—to let them settle. Letting him talk would give her that time—time to come to terms with the momentous resolution she had made.
Time, too, to do what she so wanted to do—just sit there and drink him in. Drink in the strong, magnetic features, sit quietly and watch the lean perfection of his body, look at the dark feathered sable of his hair, the quick indentation of his lips, hear the deep accented tones of his voice. All a sensuous, breath-catching delight to her!
A sense of release filled her. As if a hideous burden had been lifted from her, freeing her from the corruptive taint of her father’s venal machinations.
Now, finally, she could accept that, whatever the cause of her being here with Leon, this was where she wanted to be. And accept freely that it was what she wanted, too—to have this time with Leon, come what may.