Sandra Marton - His Blackmailed Bride

She wanted to tell him that Alan would understand, but it was a hope, not a certainty. The footsteps and the laughter were growing closer. The man sensed her hesitancy and clasped her hand more tightly in his.

‘We’ll finish our dance,’ he said as he drew her after him. ‘Down there, on the beach. And then, if that’s what you want, I’ll return you to your Romeo.’

It was lunacy to follow him along the narrow gravel path that led down the bluff. Paige told herself that, even as she walked alongside him. It was lunacy to kick off her sandals and step into his waiting arms when her feet touched the sand. But it felt wonderful to let herself lean into his embrace and move in rhythm with the music. Moments passed, and she closed her eyes and put her head against his shoulder. When his lips brushed her hair, it seemed so right that she made no objection.

‘Juliet,’ he whispered.

Paige lifted her head slowly. The stranger’s hand moved up her back, to the nape of her neck, and his fingers twined in her hair.

‘Juliet,’ he said again, and, as the moon escaped the pursuing clouds and lit his face, her eyes filled with him, drinking in the features she had only glimpsed until now. His nose was narrow, his mouth hard, the bottom lip full and sensual. His eyes glittered behind the mask. Blue, she thought, while her heart drummed in her chest. Blue, or perhaps green…

As if he were reading her mind, he reached up and slowly pulled the black domino from his face. Her breathing quickened as he cast it aside and gazed at her. His eyes were a piercing aquamarine, the colour of the summer sea, deep-set and thickly lashed.

‘Now it’s your turn,’ he murmured.

Paige trembled as he reached towards her. His fingers closed on the silver mask, and she held her breath as he untied it. Slowly, patiently, he eased it from her, and she knew she had never felt as naked in a man’s arms as she felt at this moment. His eyes moving over her unmasked face were more intimate a caress than any she had ever experienced. God, what was happening to her?

‘I knew your eyes were the colour of violets,’ he said, smiling down at her. His voice thickened. ‘You’re beautiful, Juliet.’

His hand cupped her face. He was going to kiss her, she thought. She had to stop him…

Paige swayed as her lashes fell to her cheeks. What was the sense of pretending? She wanted him to kiss her. She knew it—and the stranger knew it. He’d been making love to her all night, first in the ballroom, then on the terrace, and now—now he was going to kiss her. The kiss would end the fantasy and bring back reality. It would put a stop to all this foolishness. She’d step back and apologise for letting things get out of hand and…

His mouth brushed against hers, the kiss as light as blown spray from the ocean.

‘A flower,’ he whispered as his arms curved around her. ‘Your mouth is a flower that tastes of nectar as sweet as honey.’ His head bent to hers and he kissed her again, the press of his mouth firmer, the kiss longer. When at last he lifted his head, Paige was breathless. ‘So sweet,’ he said, ‘so wonderful…’

‘Kiss me again,’ she sighed.

His eyes changed, darkened to the colour of the ocean depths, and he gathered her to him. When his mouth dropped to hers, his lips were hungry and demanded surrender, and she gave it willingly. Her mouth softened beneath his, parted, and with a sound that was half-growl, half-triumph, he pulled her against him, moulding her body to his. Her fingers curled into the silky hair at the back of his head as his tongue touched her mouth with flame.

‘I want to make love to you,’ he whispered, drawing away only enough so he could look into her flushed face.

Some last link of reality made her shake her head.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I can’t…’

His hand slid to her breast, and she gasped as she felt the heat of his caress through the thin silk bodice.

‘You want me. I know you do.’

‘I can’t,’ she said again. ‘You must let me go. I…’

‘Go where?’ he demanded. ‘Back to your Romeo?’

‘Yes,’ she said, shuddering as his hand moved over her, ‘yes, my fiancé… Please, don’t…’

‘Does he make you feel the way I do?’ His mouth dipped to hers again, searing her with his passion, branding her with desire. He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. ‘Does he?’ he demanded.

Forgive me, Alan, she thought. ‘No,’ she said in a whisper so low that she hoped only the ocean would hear it. His smile was a trophy of her submission, but before he could kiss her again Paige put her hands against his chest and struggled in his embrace. ‘But I’m not going to do this,’ she said. ‘I…’

‘You don’t want him, Juliet. You want me. You want me to make love to you, here, on the beach.’

‘No,’ she whispered, but even she could hear the lie trapped in the word. ‘No,’ she said again, but his arms were holding her tightly, and the stars were beginning to swirl all around her. The moon had climbed higher, casting a silver highway across the black water and a billion stars glittered in the sky. They were the last people on Earth, and love was an imperative. A tremor raced through her. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘please…’

‘Please, what?’ he said, and his lips brushed hers. ‘Tell me what you want me to do, Juliet. Show me.’

Her head fell back as his lips found her throat, and she moaned softly as she felt the silky glide of his tongue caress her skin. He was bending her back over his arm, lowering her to the sand, and it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted, he was all she wanted, he was everything…

‘… are you out here?’

No! The voice was recognisable, even if the words were muffled by the surf. Paige stiffened in the stranger’s arms.

‘It’s my mother!’

Her whisper was frantic. He said nothing, and she thought he hadn’t understood her. Then she heard his stifled oath and felt the sudden tension in his muscles.

‘Keep quiet and she’ll go away,’ he murmured against her cheek.

‘She won’t do that,’ Paige whispered. ‘Let me go—please.’

His eyes burned into hers. ‘Only if you swear you’ll come back to me.’

Paige shook her head. ‘No, no, I can’t. I…’

‘… are you?’ came her mother’s voice.

‘She’s going to come down here,’ Paige said in a desperate whisper. ‘Let go of me, I beg you.’

His hands bound her to him. ‘Tell me you’ll come back,’ he said fiercely.

‘I can’t. I…’ Paige looked up. Her mother stood silhouetted at the head of the path that led down to the beach. ‘All right,’ she said breathlessly. ‘All right, I’ll come back.’

His hands clasped her shoulders, biting into her flesh until she winced. ‘Swear it,’ he said in an urgent whisper. ‘Swear it, or I’ll come with you now. I’ll tell your mother and your Romeo that you’re mine tonight.’

‘I’m not. I…’

His mouth took hers in a hard, swift kiss that stole her breath away. ‘Don’t lie to yourself, Juliet. I don’t understand it, either, but I know sure as hell that something’s happened. And I’m damned if I’m going to let you walk out of my life until I figure it out. Do you understand?’

Paige’s heart tumbled crazily. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, and an overwhelming sense of joy filled her. ‘Yes,’ she said again, and then she heard her mother’s footsteps on the gravel. She touched the man’s cheek and then stepped swiftly on to the path. ‘I’m here, Mother,’ she called.

‘For heaven’s sake, dear,’ her mother said, taking a step towards her. ‘We were worried half to death. Where have you been?’

Paige hurried up the last few yards and looped her arm through her mother’s, drawing her back towards the gardens and the brightly lit clubhouse.

‘I was… I was walking on the beach, Mother. I’m sorry if I worried you.’

’Well, not just me, Paige,’ Janet Gardiner said as they moved across the flagstones. ‘We were all upset. Your father, Alan—whatever got into you? Were you out here all by yourself?’

Paige glanced over her shoulder. There was only darkness behind her. ‘Yes, of course. I’m really sorry. I just… I just needed some time to myself, I guess.’

Her mother’s footsteps slowed. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, dear? There’s something about you this evening…’

‘Mother, where’s Alan?’

‘Looking for you, of course. He…’

‘I have to talk to him,’ Paige said in a rush. ‘I have to tell him that this…’

Her mother put her arm around Paige’s waist. ‘Alan understands,’ she said soothingly. ‘He knows it’s just last-minute nerves.’

‘Mother, please…’

‘All brides feel that way. You’ll be fine the day of the wedding. Once you see your bridesmaids and the ushers, the flowers, the guests smiling at you, and Alan waiting at the altar—you’ll see. All the jitters will vanish.’

It was a litany designed to comfort, but it was also a reminder of reality and responsibility. Paige came to an abrupt halt.

‘Will they?’ she asked in a whisper.

Janet Gardiner smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said, and then, looking into Paige’s eyes, her smile turned to a worried frown. ‘Unless you have real reservations, Paige. Do you? If you’re not sure…’

Paige caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Yes. No. God, Mother, I… I don’t feel… I don’t feel the way I should about Alan, do you know what I mean? I… I just don’t feel that way…’

Her mother’s eyebrows rose. ‘The way you felt about that man in New York, you mean.’ Her voice was stiff with distaste. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

Paige took a breath. ‘I’m not comparing the two situations, Mother. I…’

‘I should hope not. Alan will never hurt you, Paige. You should be happy.’

‘I am happy. I mean, I thought I was. But…’

The door ahead of them swung open suddenly, and the noise and smoky warmth of the ballroom spilled over them. Alan gave a sigh of relief as he stepped on to the terrace.

‘There you are,’ he said. ‘What happened to you, sweetheart?’

‘I was… I was walking, Alan. I…’

He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Are you OK?’

Paige nodded. ‘Fine.’

‘I looked everywhere for you. In the cloakroom, in the car…’

‘You didn’t look on the beach,’ Janet Gardiner said. ‘That’s where she was, Alan. Walking off a bad set of nerves.’

Paige flushed. ‘Mother, for heaven’s sake…’

Alan grinned. ‘Terrific. I’m the one who’s supposed to be jittery, remember? That’s the bridegroom’s prerogative.’

Paige drew in her breath. ‘Are you?’ she whispered.

Alan put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘We’re going to be happy,’ he said softly. ‘I promise.’

Paige stared at her fiancé. They would be happy, she thought. Of course they would. What she’d felt a few moments ago, in the arms of a stranger, wasn’t happiness. She knew that as well as anyone. Better, perhaps…

‘Mr and Mrs Fowler have asked us to their house for coffee, dear,’ her mother said. ‘I’ll just get your father and we’ll meet you out front.’

Alan smiled as Paige’s mother bustled away. ‘You’re going to get coffee and cake and the whole Fowler clan,’ he said teasingly. ‘Aunt Dorothy wants to meet you. And Uncle Sam. And what looks like an endless line of cousins.’ He bent and kissed her. ‘I’m glad your mother found you, sweetheart. We don’t want to disappoint them, do we?’