‘In what way?’ He sounded lazily interested, eyes screened by thick lashes as he looked down at her. Bach had come to an end some time ago and there was a faint buzz from the stereo speakers. Usually Hugh’s tidy mind would have prompted him to turn it off by now, but tonight he seemed disinclined to move.
‘What on earth do I see in you? You’re too aloof for the likes of me. You’re going to corrupt my innocent youth with your cold-blooded sophistication. You’re too old and staid for me. And …’ Richard had been very particular on this point, ‘you can’t give me the kind of loving I need.’
‘I presume you had an answer for all that.’
‘Oh yes,’ Julia lowered her eyes demurely. ‘I told them that you were the most fantastic kisser I’d ever met. That I’d never be able to settle for second-rate lips again. That you left them in the shade when it came to sending shivers up my spine.’ She looked up. Hugh was laughing soundlessly and she wished she could freeze the image forever. She loved to make him laugh. ‘Well, it’s true, you do. It shut Richard up anyhow, no more remarks about you being old enough to be my father.’
‘Hardly. And I might argue the case on one or two other of his allegations. How he got the impression that your innocence is a point at issue is beyond me.’
Julia laughed, not at what he said but at the way he said it. It had taken her a while but she was beginning to appreciate his dry, ironic sense of humour. And she couldn’t blame him for what he thought—that she was as free and easy with her favours as she was with her words. She wondered at her own reluctance to enlighten him, sensing that it had its roots in the growing attraction she felt towards him. Hugh would run a mile from a virgin … too much of an emotional risk … but an experienced woman he might be prepared to meet on equal ground.
A log fell in the fire, sending out a shower of tea-tree sparks and Julia jumped, startled out of the beginnings of an erotic fantasy. She stood up and stretched, trying to shake off her sensual lethargy. Hugh watched the ripple of tension run through the curving arch of her body, breathing in a drift of the warm, earthy fragrance of the perfume she wore, and stood up, too.
Julia was heart-crashingly aware of the living, breathing man … so big, so strong, so close, and of her own nervous reaction to his nearness.
‘Oh goodness, look at the time,’ she babbled, looking at the grandfather clock by the door. ‘I’d better go down and get supper for everyone.’
She scuttled to the door, barely hearing Hugh’s ‘good night’, so anxious was she to get away before she did something stupid, like throw herself at him.
She had put the water on to boil and was sliding halved muffins under the grill of the gas cooker when Connie entered the kitchen, the girls at her heels.
‘I was going to do that, Julia, I thought you were still upstairs.’ There was no hint of condemnation in the words. ‘Is Hugh coming down?’
Julia regarded her fondly. Since Hugh never came down for supper, the remark was in the nature of a gentle probe.
‘No, he’s …’ she just stopped herself from saying still working, ‘… he’s going to do some more work on his book.’
‘How’s it coming along?’
‘Slowly, I think,’ said Julia, thinking of the re-typing she would have to do tomorrow.
‘Good.’ Connie saw the three girls exchange surprised looks. ‘I mean that it’s good that he’s not overdoing it. Hugh always did work too hard—making up, I guess. He needs a bit of creative diversion.’
‘You can’t get more creatively diverting than Julia,’ said Ros with a sly wink.
‘Don’t let the children embarrass you, Julia darling,’ Connie ordered imperiously. ‘If you can encourage Hugh to relax and open up I shall be eternally grateful. I expect you’ve discovered for yourself that under that crust he’s a very strongly passionate man. What do you think of the four-poster?’
On the surface it was a change of subject, but Olivia evidently didn’t think so: ‘Mother!’
‘What?’ Connie made innocent eyes at her daughters. ‘You don’t think I was …? Olivia, what a mind you have! Julia didn’t think that, did you darling?’
‘Not for a moment,’ grinned Julia. The twins liked to consider themselves as sophisticated and every now and then Connie took it into her head to disabuse them. ‘I think the bed is fantastic’
‘Hugh found it in some deceased estate sale in Thames. He doesn’t usually put himself out for the sake of a possession. His Auckland flat’s like a motel room. But something about that bed really struck a responsive chord.’ Julia knew exactly what she meant … it had struck the same chord with her. ‘Are those muffins burning, Julia, or are they supposed to smoke like that!’
Three pairs of hands hurriedly helped to rescue the slightly singed muffins (‘lovely and crisp, just how I like them,’ consoled Ros). Julia slapped on the butter, silently admonishing herself. The merest mention of Hugh was turning into an occupational hazard; she must try to curb this obsessive curiosity.
‘You’d better watch yourself though,’ Connie continued without pause, ‘I understand that thirteen children were conceived within those four posts … a very fertile breeding ground for love, that bed.’
‘Isn’t she awful!’ giggled Olivia as her mother swept out of the door. ‘I mean, you have to admire her instinct for scene stealing, not to mention her breath control, but she does come out with the most terrible things.’
‘Aren’t all women supposed to become like their mothers?’ Julia grinned, desperately trying to control her blush.
‘I hope so!’ Ros put bowls of jam and honey on the tray beside the plate of muffins. ‘That puts me in line to be the next doyenne of the New Zealand stage. Oh … I’ll miss her when I’m in England. I’ll miss everyone. I’ll be rottenly homesick. How about changing your mind and coming with me, Liv?’
‘I told you, I haven’t got the cash. We’re not due our Trust money until we’re twenty-five,’ Olivia explained to Julia’s surprised look. ‘Meantime the parents have this thing about us making it under our own steam financially. Good for us, really.’
‘If you went back to commercial art for a while it wouldn’t take you long to save the fare. And think of the long-term benefits of going overseas,’ insisted Ros, pouring the tea while Julia dealt with the coffees.