The Reluctant Lark Page 4

  Then as he noted the sudden panic in her face, he quickly dropped the ruthless objectivity in his manner and moved closer to enfold her in his arms. “Hey, it’s going to be all right,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just have to make you see that it’s useless to put up a fight. I had notes very expertly forged and sent to both your uncle and James O’Daniels explaining that you were exhausted and were going away for a bit of a rest. They’ll receive notes periodically in the coming months assuring them of your continued good health.”

  “Months!” Sheena said, startled. She pushed away from him and looked into his face. “You can’t mean to keep me that long. That’s carrying your little joke too far.”

  He shook his head. “I intend to keep you forever,” he said. “But I figured it might take a few months for you to come around to my way of thinking on the subject.”

  She was astounded. “You’re certifiably insane,” she pronounced with utmost surety.

  He nodded. “That’s entirely possible. I realized some time ago that I was completely obsessed where you’re concerned.”

  “But why?” she whispered, bewildered. “You don’t even know me. Why should you go to such outrageous lengths just because you have some absurd idea that I need to be rescued?”

  He touched the hollow of her cheek with a gentle finger. “I’m not that quixotic, love. My reasons for taking you were entirely selfish. After the party that night, I couldn’t sleep for thinking about you. Then when I saw what O’Shea did to you the next night at the concert, I decided that I wasn’t going to wait any longer to have you belong to me.”

  “Why me?” she demanded in exasperaton, a scowl darkening her face. “Uncle Donal says you have no problem acquiring women. Why don’t you go kidnap one of them and let me go? You know very well you’re only doing this because I represent some sort of challenge. You couldn’t possibly have developed a deathless passion for me. We don’t even belong to the same world!”

  “I can’t argue that you represent a challenge,” he said, grinning, his lion eyes dancing. “You may prove to be the most difficult one I’ve ever encountered, but I’m not the type you seem to think. My desire is to drag you into bed and ravish that lovely nubile body, but I’m trying to restrain my baser instincts until you get to know me a little better.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Sheena whispered, her eyes widening apprehensively.

  “I would,” Challon assured her firmly. “But only as a last resort. I’m fairly certain that once you’re my mistress, you won’t want to leave me. But I don’t want a confused little girl in my bed. I want a full-blooded woman who will demand as much from me as I will from her.” He sighed ruefully. “I sure hope you’re a fast learner, dove. I’m definitely not used to celibacy.”

  “And how do you expect to perform this transformation?” she asked tartly. “It surely won’t be easy to reform such a colorless specimen as you think me.” She slapped his hand away from her face sharply.

  Challon chuckled. “You’re already changing,” he drawled, his golden eyes twinkling, “I knew that all I’d have to do was remove you from O’Shea’s influence and your natural personality would emerge. Now all I have to do is to sit back and wait until you’re ripe for the plucking.”

  The arrogance of the man! Did he really think she’d stand for this sort of treatment? Her black eyes were blazing as she drew back as far from him as the couch permitted. “You won’t have the opportunity,” she said angrily. “As soon as we get off this plane, I’m leaving. Unless you keep me chained or locked up, I’ll find a way to get away from you. And when I do, I’ll see that you’re thrown into jail like any other criminal!”

  He seemed more pleased than upset by this defiance. “That’s it, love, come alive,” he encouraged her softly, his eyes on her flushed face. “Anger and hate are not the emotions I’m looking for, but at least they’re a beginning.”

  “You’re impossible!” Sheena cried. “Don’t you understand? I won’t stay with you!”

  “In about fifteen minutes we’ll be landing at our destination. I have a cabin in the woods that’s about a hundred miles from the nearest inhabited town. I don’t think I have to tell you that trying a trek like that in Canada in November would be the equivalent of suicide.”

  “What about the pilot?” she asked belligerently. “Perhaps he won’t be so willing to take on the role of criminal accomplice.”

  “All my employees are completely loyal to me,” Challon said. “They’re paid exorbitantly well to be. Besides, the question is immaterial. After John drops us off, he’ll return to Montreal and wait there until I radio him to come and get us.”

  “You think you have it all arranged. Well, I’d rather freeze to death than stay cooped up with an arrogant, chauvinistic egomanic who thinks he runs the world!”

  “You’ll change your mind,” Challon assured her. “Once you cool down, you’ll realize how futile running away would be.”

  Suddenly Sheena felt as if she were going up in flames of rage and frustration. She wasn’t even conscious that her arm was moving until her hand connected with a sharp crack on Challon’s cheek. She gave a shocked gasp as she saw the red imprint of her fingers appear on his lean, tanned cheek. Her hand went to her mouth, and she unconsciously shrank farther away from him. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she said faintly.

  Challon’s golden eyes were blazing for a brief instant, and she felt a moment of sheer panic. Then the anger was gone, and his face turned somber. “That was a mistake,” he said quietly. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours watching you sleep and wishing that pillow you were cuddling up to was me. I almost took you in my arms a hundred times, but somehow I held on to my control. Then you use the surest method known to man to break it.” His hands reached out and closed on her arms and drew her inexorably into his embrace. “I think you owe me, little dove.”

  “No!” she cried desperately, shaking her head and straining away from him. “Please, don’t do this.”

  “I have to,” he said huskily. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to take more than you want to give. I just have to touch you. I’ve been in a fever for you for so long. I have to have a little something or go crazy.”

  “But I …” The rest of Sheena’s protest was lost as Challon’s warm mouth covered hers. His lips were hot and smooth as he coaxed her with devastating expertise to respond. She found the embrace held a dizzying excitement as his lips moved with a ravaging tenderness to the curve of her cheek and then to the lobe of her ear.

  “Your bones are so delicate,” he murmured, as he nibbled at her ear. “I feel as if I could break you with one hand.” His tongue plunged hotly in her ear, and she shuddered helplessly as a melting languor flooded her and she sagged weakly against his warm strength. Challon fell back on the couch, bringing her with him so that she was lying on top of him, the weight of her body pressing her breathlessly close to his hard, taut muscles.

  He rolled over so that they were facing each other on the narrow couch, and his hand touched the gray crepe of the gown at the breast. “I hate you in this,” he muttered, as his lips searched out the throbbing pulse in the hollow of her throat. “I want you always to be surrounded with brilliance and joy.” His tongue was probing the hollow with a provocativeness that caused her breath to catch in her throat. “I want to see you in scarlet satin and yellow chiffon.” His lips moved up to cover hers in a long, hot kiss, his tongue exploring her teeth and tongue with ravishing thoroughness. “But most of all I want to see you in nothing at all!”

  His hands slid the grey crepe from her shoulders, and with a multitude of lazy kisses, he began an intimate exploration of her shoulders. His hands were now running curiously over her slim back and hips. He buried his face in her hair to murmur huskily, “You’re so small and slender. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined how tight you’d feel around me?” Then at her shocked gasp, he chuckled deep in his chest. “Sorry, love, I know that I’m going too fast for you
.” He gave her one last lingering kiss before he reluctantly sat up. He looked down at her flushed face and languid dark eyes and gave a deep sigh. “You’d better sit up and get away from me, little dove. You were pretty damn close to joining the mile-high club just now.”

  She looked up at him, still dazed from his passionate lovemaking. “What’s that?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the beautifully sensual curve of his lips.

  He chuckled again, his golden eyes twinkling. “Never mind. I keep forgetting that convent upbringing.” He rose lightly to his feet and strode to the bar and poured himself a whiskey from a crystal decanter. “I’ll demonstrate some other time—in detail.” He grinned. “Graphic detail.” He poured a small amount of whiskey in another glass and strolled back to her. “You’d better drink this,” he said, his lips still twitching. “You’re a little shaky. Which makes me pleased as punch, I might add.” He watched her tenderly as she sat up and hurriedly arranged the bodice of her dress before reaching for the glass. “When Reilly appeared on the scene, I was afraid he was brought in to be prince consort, but you’re still green as grass, little dove. All that passion is just waiting there for me to tap it. God, I’m glad!”

  Sheena took a few experimental sips of the whiskey and then handed the glass back to him. The liquor caused a surge of heat in her blood that did serve to steady her, but it also cleared her head of the sensual euphoria that Challon had generated with his sexual magnetism. Shamed color flooded her cheeks. Good God in heaven, what had she done! She’d allowed Challon to manipulate her body and emotions as if she were one of his eager harem of women. It was true that her career had allowed her no time to gain the experience he’d mentioned, but even a green girl should have known better than to allow herself to be swayed by Challon’s powerful virility to such an extent. The man had disrupted the peacefully smooth tempo of her life. He had insulted her uncle. He had actually kidnapped her! Yet she had still allowed him to make love to her.

  “I must have been mad,” she muttered. Well, she was no longer under that mesmerizing spell. She squared her chin firmly and looked at him with defiance breathing out of every pore. “There’s nothing waiting for you but a jail cell,” she spat out. “I’ll not be so easy for you to get around a second time, Mr. Challon. It was merely that I was sick and half out of my mind from that chloroform that made me so accommodating.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rough on the men who snatched you,” Challon drawled, his lips twitching in amusement. “Though I’ve never heard that chloroform had aphrodisiac properties, and you certainly appear to be fully recovered.”

  A light suddenly went on over the door to the cockpit, and Challon glanced up swiftly. “Time to buckle up, sweetheart. We’re starting our descent.”

  The “cabin” was certainly not the small, primitive log shack of her imaginings, Sheena thought sourly, as she waited shivering on the redwood porch while Challon unlocked the door. It was more like a luxurious country home.

  As they had swiftly made their way up to the A-frame redwood cottage from the landing strip at the bottom of the hill, the moonlight had revealed the clean, modern lines of the charming cabin and the spacious redwood sundeck, which completely surrounded the house.

  Challon flipped on the light and swiftly adjusted the thermostat beside the switch as he ushered her in the door. “Three bedrooms upstairs,” he said briefly. “There’s a kitchen/dining room down the hall to the left and a library adjoining the living room. Get used to it, little dove. It’s going to be your home for quite a while.”

  Sheena shot him a lethal glance, which he cheerfully ignored as he moved swiftly to the massive stone fireplace on the far wall and knelt to light the wood that was stacked and ready.

  “You certainly like to rough it, don’t you?” Sheena asked caustically. Her gaze flicked around the spacious living room with its gleaming oak floors covered with Indian area rugs striped boldly in scarlet and cream. The long beige couch with its scarlet throw pillows in front of the fireplace was expertly crafted for quiet beauty and supreme comfort, as were the other pieces of furniture in the room.

  Challon looked up and grinned as the fire caught and started to blaze cheerfully. “I figured that you’re going to have enough adjustments to make without having to cope with life in the raw. If you want to sample a more simple life-style, I have a tiny cabin on an island in the Caribbean that you might enjoy. We’ll go there in March, if you like.”

  Sheena’s fists knotted, and she mentally counted to ten. Challon’s casual assumption of their future together was positively maddening. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you but back to New York,” she said between clenched teeth. “Why can’t you see that you just can’t do this to me?”

  “You’d better come closer to the fire,” he said. He stood up and took off his sheepskin coat and threw it on the couch. “The temperature is dropping rapidly, and they’re expecting snow tonight. I’ve turned up the thermostat, but it will take a while for it to get really warm in here.”

  He was ignoring her protests as if she had never uttered them, she noticed angrily. “I’m quite comfortable here,” she said haughtily, pulling her cloak closer about her.

  A flicker of golden fire lit Challon’s eyes. “If you don’t get over here, I’m coming to get you.” His tone was softly menacing. “And we’ve already seen how any physical confrontation between us ends, haven’t we?”

  Sheena felt the embarrassed color rise to her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip uncertainly, debating whether she should defy him.

  “Sheena!” The word had the crack of a whiplash, and she found herself hurriedly moving forward.

  The blaze of the fire was undoubtedly comforting, but the gleam of satisfaction in Challon’s eyes ruined any pleasure she might have felt in the additional warmth. “You needn’t think that I’ll let you order me about,” she said crossly. “I just decided that I was a bit chilly after all.”

  “I see,” Challon said gravely, that maddening twinkle back in his eyes. “How fortunate for me that you changed your mind.”

  She threw him a dark scowl and pointedly turned her back on him, stretching her hands out to the fire.

  There was still a thread of amusement in his voice as he said, “Stay here and keep warm, and I’ll see if I can rustle us up something to eat. The kitchen should be well stocked, I had a man fly out a few days ago with supplies.”

  “You needn’t bother,” Sheena said coolly. “I’m not hungry.”

  There was an obvious impatience in Challon’s tone. “You’ve got to be hungry. I happen to know that you never eat before a performance. That probably means that you haven’t had a bite since lunch yesterday, and it’s now almost four in the morning.”

  Was there nothing that the man didn’t know about her? Well, it would give her great pleasure to see that the arrogant Mr. Challon failed in this aim, at least. She turned to face him. “Nevertheless, I’m not hungry,” she said firmly, receiving distinct satisfaction from the scowl that clouded his face.

  “I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not,” he growled, his frowning gaze running over her slim, fragile figure. “You’re going to eat anyway. A strong wind would blow you away, and I won’t have you getting sick.”

  “I’m sure that would be very awkward for you,” Sheena bit out. “Then you might have a murder charge against you as well as one for kidnapping. Well, to hell with you, Rand Challon! You can’t force me to eat.”

  Challon’s lion eyes were blazing with a matching anger. “You stubborn little idiot. You’d probably starve yourself to death just to get a little of your own back against me. Do you envy your brother his foolish martyr’s death so much that you want to imitate him?”

  Sheena backed away, her eyes stricken. She felt as if he had physically struck her, so cruel was that last verbal blow.

  There was a flicker of remorse in Challon’s face as he took an impulsive step toward her. “Sheena—” he started gently.

  “
No!” she cried. “No!”

  Then she was running blindly toward the front door. She heard him call her name stridently as she tore out on the redwood sundeck and down the stairs. She didn’t even feel the frigid cold now, though she was vaguely conscious of the sharp wind hitting her tear-streaked face. In that moment she was almost totally mindless, her only motivation that of an animal in pain looking for a dark place to hide. She was scarcely aware of the sobs that were shaking her. She flew down the hill past the landing strip into the forest beyond.

  She could hear Challon’s voice roaring her name as he crashed through the bushes behind her, but she continued streaking through the forest like a frightened gazelle pursued by a lion.

  Suddenly she stepped off the edge of the world and was falling into space! Then she was enveloped in water so cold that it robbed her of all body heat and precious breath. Her velvet cloak was immediately drenched, and the weight pulled her helplessly beneath the deadly surface.

  She struggled desperately to fight her way back to the surface, but her sodden clothing was like a rock holding her down. She knew an instant of blinding panic as she realized incredulously that she was drowning. She was going to die. Perhaps she was already dying, for suddenly there was nothing but the icy darkness.

  If the darkness had remained, it would have been bearable, but there were suddenly brilliant colors that shifted like a kaleidoscope, the hues melting and running into each other until they finally turned into that stark, sterile white that she recognized with a chilling horror. Hospital white.

  “No, please!” she moaned, knowing what was to follow. For all the nightmares started like that. Then it was not a dream at all but reality once again.

  It had been raining that day five years ago, that light misting Irish rain that her uncle always referred to as angels’ tears. She’d been seventeen then and still at Saint Mary’s Convent outside Ballycraigh. It was a very good school and the nuns exceptionally protective of their charges. Perhaps if they’d been less zealous in that respect, everything would have been different, she had thought later.