When she emerged from the perfumed water she dried herself and sprayed her body liberally with a perfumed emollient. What had Kieron called her the other night—‘a sacrifice to Bacchus?’ Her hands trembled on the satin underwear. Never, ever in her life had she set out to deliberately entice a man as she was doing tonight, and for that reason alone she simply dared not think of failure. Her colour was high as she caught sight of herself in the sheer stockings and cobwebby lace. She was just reaching for her blouse when the door suddenly opened and Kieron strode in, stopping dead as he saw her. For a second his eyes widened in entirely male appreciation and then he was smiling, no emotion discernible in his expression but satisfied comprehension as he drawled mockingly.
‘So I was right after all.’ His fingers ran lightly along one silk-clad thigh and Briony’s flesh trembled in response. ‘What wrought the change, I wonder?’ Before Briony could tell him, he had turned away, leaving her breathless and faintly disappointed. ‘I’ll go in and have a look at Nicky while you finish dressing. Unless of course you want any assistance?’ One dark eyebrow rose sardonically, and Briony longed more than she had longed for anything in her life for the sangfroid to say casually, ‘Yes, please.…’ But she still lacked the courage for such responses, and although her eyes appealed for help, Kieron was already walking towards Nicky’s room, leaving her no alternative but to pull on the peach silk blouse and fasten it with fingers which had suddenly become terribly clumsy.
The faintest touch of green eyeshadow and a slick of lip-gloss were all the make-up she needed. The peach silk whispered softly round her legs, and she wondered if it was merely the sensuous feel of the rich fabric against her flesh that made her feel such wanton desire for the touch of Kieron’s hands, and the demanding possession of his body.
Louise scowled when she appeared in the elegant dining room, her eyes flashing resentfully over the peach silk and the rounded curves of Briony’s breasts beneath the low neckline. She was wearing another slim sheath of a dress, but the black fabric made her skin look faintly sallow and Briony knew without vanity that tonight, of the two of them, she looked the more attractive.
They started the meal with a fresh fruit cocktail, deliciously refreshing and light before the succulent roast duckling with its sharp orange sauce and crisp vegetables cooked and served as only the French seemed to know how.
She sipped her dry white wine, enjoying the way it set her blood on fire, a faint flush on her cheeks as she caught Kieron’s eye across the table.
To follow the duckling they had crepes suzettes and fresh, sweet strawberries, and although Briony shook her head, Kieron insisted on pouring her a glass of Sauternes, gold and honeyed and tasting like nectar.
By the time the meal was over she felt lightheaded. Marian suggested that they adjourn to the drawing-room, where she drew Louise into conversation about her mother, much to the latter’s obvious annoyance.
Briony touched her tongue to her upper lip, wishing Kieron would stop staring out into the darkness and come and sit beside her. He was wearing evening clothes again and they made him seem slightly remote.
‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ Briony said breathlessly at last, hoping no one would notice her faint hesitation. It was only ten o’clock, but surely Kieron would.…She glanced hesitantly at him, willing him to turn round and announce that he would go with her, but he did not, and she felt Marian’s eyes resting sympathetically on her, as she turned to leave the room.
In their bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed, plucking nervously at the bedspread, and starting at every tiny sound, her eyes fastened on the door. Half an hour passed with no sign of Kieron, and her hopes started to fade, her earlier excitement turning to misery. Either she had not made her invitation plain enough or he was not interested enough to take it up. She waited another fifteen minutes and then walked out of the house, past the floodlit pool, to where the narrow steps led down to the beach. The pounding of the sea against the rocks was primeval and eternal. The evening was warm, a soft breeze blowing inland, and possessed by an urge she could barely comprehend, Briony slowly removed the silk blouse and skirt, placing them gently out of reach of the sea. As the breeze caressed her flesh she hesitated, and then like a sleepwalker, removed her remaining articles of clothing, welcoming the silky embrace of the waves as she walked slowly into the sea.
She had never swum at night, nor completely unclad, come to that, and even now she was a little shocked at her own wanton impulsiveness, but the feel of the feel of the sea against her naked flesh was pleasurably erotic and she turned and floated, secure in the knowledge that the beach was private and that in any case the beaches of the Riviera held sufficient to satiate the male eye by day without the necessity of searching it out by night.
When she first saw the dark shadow on the small beach her heart almost stopped. She floated, almost motionless, while he walked to the small, betraying pile of clothes, and then slowly and purposefully removed his own, entering the sea with powerful strides, until the water was deep enough for him to swim towards her with unerring precision.
‘Kieron.’ His name was almost a whisper, her heightened senses telling her that this was not the time for words. She swam lazily away as he reached her, knowing that he would follow and that when he did he would catch her in mock struggle, dragging her down beneath the warm blue swell, to kiss her until sheer lack of oxygen forced them to the surface, trailing silver bubbles.
‘What are you tonight?’ he whispered against her ear. ‘A mermaid? A siren, come to lure me to my doom?’
‘Just a woman, Kieron,’ she whispered back, twisting out from beneath his grasp and laughing like a child as she managed to elude his seeking hands. He could swim like a fish, far more powerfully than she could, and he circled her lazily as she turned back to the shore.
When they emerged from the sea, it seemed only natural that Kieron should lift her in his arms, without a word, and carry her to where the sea had washed clean a small patch of sand, placing her on it and covering her silver flesh with his own.
In complete silence, Briony lifted her hands to his face, tracing the hard bones, revelling in the feel of his warm, living flesh beneath her fingers, her breath coming unevenly between softly parted lips as his own hands began a lazy exploration of her skin.
She met his kiss eagerly and passionately, moaning softly as the hard pressure was suddenly removed after only the briefest, tormenting caress. A mouth as light as snow brushed gently against her skin, skimming briefly and leaving her aching for a more lasting contact.
Her hands moved feverishly against Kieron’s body, as her lips pressed pleading kisses into his skin, her normal reticence and reserve sloughed off like an unwanted skin.
Kieron’s flesh tasted of salt and sea, and he groaned huskily deep in his throat as she raised herself up against him, her breasts swelling passionately against his hair-darkened chest, the nipples tormented into hard erectness by the arousing contact. The soft warm curves of her body moulded themselves against his hardness, inciting him to take what she was offering and plummet them both deep into an endless whirlpool of shared passion.
There was no room for selfconsciousness or shame as Briony wound her arms possessively round his neck, holding his mouth against her as he tormented her with another brief caress, her sigh of satisfaction smothered under the fierce demand the action had aroused. When desire reached such a pitch, pain and pleasure mingled, she thought hazily, revelling in the hard possession of Kieron’s hands on her flesh. This was no gentle, slow arousal to culminate in tender fulfilment, but a mutual primeval force akin to that of a storm-lashed ocean where each took demandingly from the other. Kieron’s hands swept demandingly along her thigh, stroking over the tender skin of her stomach and upwards to caress her breast, the swelling flesh cupped by his hand, tormented by the rough caress of his tongue. Her harsh groan of pleasure as his mouth closed over the throbbing nipple was lost against his shoulder, her teeth clenching involuntarily on the tanned skin, eliciting a fevered response from the hands that held her slender moon-bathed body.
Kieron’s withholding of their ultimate union was exquisitely unbearable, and Briony writhed feverishly beneath him, pleading implicitly for what he denied, her breath coming in soft, frenzied pants, her arms reaching up to pull him down against her.
Her clinging hands were removed, Kieron’s body held away as he stared down at her aroused face and body.
‘Now!’ he said harshly, his breathing rasping and unsteady. ‘Now tell me that you aren’t all woman, Briony, and that you don’t know what it feels like to want someone until you’re aching with it.’
A cold fear was seeping over her. Kieron was no longer watching her with passion, but with a cold detachment that sent fear spiralling through her.
‘Now I’m going to teach you something else,’ he said softly, ‘and I think you’re going to be an excellent pupil, because I’m going to let you know what it feels like to be rejected the way you’ve constantly rejected me. And to do that I don’t have to do a thing, do I, Briony?’ he said cruelly. ‘All I have to do is to walk away from you. No lovemaking without love, you once said to me, and that’s exactly how I feel,’ he said harshly. ‘It was fun while it lasted, but now it’s over.’
Without another word he turned and left her lying on the sand, her mind in turmoil, while her body ached in bitter frustration and to her everlasting shame she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt th
at if he were to come back now and take her in his arms she would be powerless to resist him.
Somehow she managed to make her way to their room. There was no sign of Kieron, but then she had not expected that there would be. Her body throbbed with a deep hunger, which she tried to suppress. She had been so wrapped up in her own dreams, so exalted by what she had learned from Marian, that she had failed to appreciate the full effect of what, to Kieron, was her rejection, of both him and his love.