The Bitter Price Of Love Read online

  Of course it was impossible to sit still, and she went through the motions of preparing for dinner. She showered and washed her hair, slipping into a full-skirted, halter-necked sundress and comfortable espadrilles. However, she didn’t go down to the restaurant. Her stomach was churning too much for food. Something was calling to her, something stronger than any other need. As the sun began to set, she grabbed up her purse and a thin shawl and left, obeying an instinct as old as time itself.

  The harbour was still alive with people, but as she made her way through the marina she met fewer and fewer. Most were out enjoying themselves, probably having dinner, and for a moment her heart failed her as she realised Hunter might not be on the yacht. Yet she need not have worried, for as she approached the boat she saw that there was light in the cabin, and as she came alongside he appeared on deck. Without a word he held out a hand, and she put hers into it and allowed him to help her aboard.

  There was a moment when they simply gazed at each other, then Hunter smiled, and used his free hand to brush away a strand of hair which the impish breeze had blown across her face.

  ‘I knew you’d come,’ he said softly, yet with a certainty she couldn’t question.

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed, unable to deny it. Her eyes drank him in. Incredible to think they had only met hours ago, and yet it felt as if she had never belonged anywhere else. This evening he had changed into white chinos and a short-sleeved shirt, but they didn’t disguise the powerful body beneath.

  He didn’t seem to mind her looking, nor did he release her hand. He studied her face as if he was imprinting it forever in his memory. ‘You have amazing eyes.’

  ‘So do you,’ she returned inanely, and flushed when he laughed. Yet there was no unkindness in it, more a release from the same tension that gripped her.

  ‘You don’t act like a model.’

  Reba smiled up at him. ‘That’s what I do, not who I am.’

  A strange light flickered at the back of his eyes. ‘And who are you, Reba?’

  ‘Just a woman,’ she told him simply, and watched fascinated as his mouth curved seductively as he smiled.

  ‘Oh, I’ll most definitely agree with that. You’re very much a woman,’ Hunter concurred huskily. ‘Have you eaten?’

  The prosaic question made her realise that now she was quite incredibly hungry. ‘No.’

  His fingers tightened on hers. ‘Good. I hope you like fish.’

  Belatedly she became aware that behind him a table had been set for two, and from down below came the mouth-watering aroma of cooking. ‘I love it.’

  Hunter dragged a hand through his hair, lips curving. ‘Somehow I knew you would,’ he said oddly, shaking his head before smiling again. ‘Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I’ll only be a moment.’

  Reba caught her breath. So he felt it too, this knowing. ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘Everything’s under control. Don’t run away,’ he cautioned as he headed for the steps.

  She wouldn’t. She didn’t think she could. And even if she did, something told her she would have to come back. A cliché, but true: home was where the heart was, and her heart was here. The admission didn’t sound crazy or ridiculous, it just sounded right. Incredibly, amazingly right.

  It was a feeling which grew all through the beautiful dinner Hunter had prepared. Someone could have dropped a bomb and it wouldn’t have penetrated the cocoon which surrounded them. The outside world had ceased to exist. They talked as if it were going out of fashion. Hunter seemed to have an unquenchable need to know everything there was to know about her. She found herself telling him things she hadn’t thought about for years. Afterwards, as they sipped at glasses of wine, he held her hand across the table, toying with her fingers, caressing them and twining them with his. She knew from his handling of the yacht that he was strong, yet his touch was gentle, almost as if he was afraid she would break.

  Reba sighed. ‘Do you realise we’ve talked and talked, and yet I don’t even know if you have a mother?’

  ‘I did have, but both my parents are dead now. I’m thirty-three years old, have no brothers or sisters, and I mess about with boats for a living. Your turn.’

  ‘I’m a model, and twenty-three years old. I have a mother, but no father, and a brother and sister younger than me.’

  ‘So your mother had to work to raise you?’

  Reba nodded. ‘Until she became ill. She’s something of an invalid now, but she has the most amazing courage.’ She hoped he wouldn’t ask her more, because Harriet Wycth was a proud woman, wanting complete control over who knew the truth of her illness. She simply refused to be pitied, and it had become second nature to her children to say nothing unless they asked her first.

  Whether Hunter instinctively knew that or not, he forbore to question the statement. ‘I’d like to meet her some time,’ was all he said, and she squeezed his hand in relief.

  ‘She’d like you.’

  Blue eyes danced. ‘Doesn’t she usually like your boyfriends?’

  She sent him an old-fashioned look. ‘If you’re asking me if I have one, the answer is no.’ She had a fleeting thought for Eliot, but dismissed it.

  ‘Good,’ he pronounced gruffly, and her heart flipped over. Almost in the same instant she yawned, and Hunter looked at his watch. ‘Do you realise it’s gone one o’clock? I’d better get you back to the hotel. You need your beauty sleep,’ he declared, releasing her hand only to come round and help her to her feet, handing her her purse and draping her shawl about her shoulders.

  ‘Funny, but I don’t feel in the least bit tired,’ Reba pronounced, and immediately yawned again.

  Hunter helped her down to the jetty with a laugh. ‘Something tells me Maurice won’t be pleased if you end up with bags under your eyes. I don’t want him deciding to use another boat. Then I’ll hardly get to see you.’ He slipped his arm round her shoulders and urged her towards the shore.

  Reba decided she had never felt so secure. ‘Do you want to see me again?’ she asked, half teasing, half serious.

  ‘Only all the time,’ Hunter admitted wryly, and prompted a confession which had been bubbling inside her all day.

  ‘You’ll think it’s crazy, but I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.’

  Hunter came to a halt, raising her chin with his hand so that their eyes met. ‘It’s not crazy, Reba. I feel the same. The minute I saw you, I knew you were different,’ he said, and brought his mouth down to cover hers.

  It was a gentle kiss, offering much in its infinite tenderness. It was a promise of things to come, a seal on words unspoken. It took her heart away, and returned it to her irrevocably altered.

  He released her with a shaken sigh. ‘This is uncanny. This morning I was a normal, level-headed man. Now I don’t seem to know which way is up any more.’

  Oh, she knew just how he felt. Nothing had prepared her for this. Nothing ever could. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Hell, no! I’ve waited all my life for you; I’m not going to run away now.’

  Her heart seemed to swell in her chest. It didn’t matter that they had only just met. Something that was destined to be could take five minutes or fifty years, but it would happen. She knew in her soul that they had been meant to meet.

  Hunter left her at the hotel entrance, driving her there in a beat-up Jeep which had been parked behind one of the waterfront bars. Not wanting the evening to be over, Reba turned to him just as he was reaching for her, and this time the kiss was different. It sought a response to a passion held in check. Tasting her, learning her, he took her breath away and sent her blood pulsing through her veins. That unspoken awareness which had been between them all evening came to the surface at last, and she gasped, feeling nerve-ends come alive which she hadn’t even known existed. There was no way of not returning the kiss, and no way of hiding her groan of dismay when it ended all too soon.

  Hunter’s breathing was ragged too, as he ran a finger over her tingling lips. ‘Momma should ha
ve told me it could be like this,’ he said huskily on a broken laugh, breaking the nerve-twisting tension, and Reba sighed, relaxing.

  ‘Do you realise you haven’t asked me about my girlfriends?’

  Somehow the thought didn’t worry her. ‘How many have you had?’

  His chuckle did wonderful things to her pulse-rate. ‘Plenty—in the past. Now there’s only you, and I want you all to myself. Do you mind?’ Hunter sounded possessive, and it sent a thrill along her spine.

  ‘No.’ She didn’t want to share him either. She wanted to be alone with him, close to him. A minute without him would seem a minute wasted.

  ‘Don’t leave with the others tomorrow. Stay aboard, and we’ll sail up the coast. What do you say?’

  She smiled. ‘Yes.’

  Hunter groaned. ‘The way you say that! It’s going to be a hell of a long day.’

  Laughing, she climbed down from the vehicle. It would be a long day, but eventually it would be over, and then there would be just the two of them. She liked the sound of that. Liked it very much indeed.

  They were both right; it did seem to take forever, but finally, after a successful day’s filming, the crew and the models were packed up and ready to leave. Reba had wished them gone a thousand times, because she hadn’t been able to speak to Hunter above twice all day. Every hour the need had grown inside her to be near to him, to touch him. She’d never really understood why couples felt they had to be glued together, but now she knew. It was a compulsive need to make contact, even if that simply meant holding hands.

  ‘They’re gone,’ Hunter declared from behind her, and she spun round, not having heard him come down to the cabin which they had been using as a changing-room.

  A lump constricted her throat as she finally came face to face with him. There was a glitter in his eyes, and a teasing curve to his lips which made her heart flip. ‘I thought they’d never go!’ she exclaimed, wanting to go to him, yet strangely held back. She didn’t realise how vulnerable she looked in jeans and T-shirt, with her face free of make-up.

  ‘Come and kiss me, Reba, before I go quietly insane,’ he ordered huskily, and she knew then that he had suffered as much as she had.

  She positively flew across the room and into his arms. All day she had been longing for his kiss and, from the hunger in his own lips which fused with hers, she knew she hadn’t been alone. Lord, she hadn’t imagined it, this tingling pleasure that sent pulses to every corner of her body, bringing it alive as never before. He was holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe, but it was wonderful.

  Hunter reluctantly lifted his head before they suffocated. ‘I needed that,’ he groaned feelingly, and his fingers curled into her hair, bringing her head down on to his shoulder.

  She could hear his heart thudding wildly, and revelled in it. ‘I missed you.’

  He laughed. ‘God, this is crazy. We’re behaving like a couple of teenagers!’

  Reba laughed with him, a bubbling sound, feeling almost drunk with happiness. ‘You know something? I don’t care.’

  ‘Neither do I. Come on, let’s get under way.’

  They worked together as if they had always been a team. Reba didn’t need to be told what to do, jumping to each task with pleasure. It was hard work, but she enjoyed every aspect of sailing, even the most mundane job. When the sails were set and they were skimming along, leaving a creamy wake behind them, she joined Hunter at the wheel, slipping her arm through his.

  He bent and pressed a kiss to her wind-blown hair. ‘You look at home here.’

  It felt like the greatest compliment, coming from a man who seemed at one with the craft and the sea. ‘I love sailing, but I’ve never sailed a yacht as lovely as this. She handles beautifully—it makes me itch to have a go.’

  He grinned, stepping back. ‘Then she’s all yours.’

  With a cry of alarm, Reba sprang for the wheel, bringing the yacht’s nose into the wind again, watching the sail billow out. ‘That was a nasty trick!’

  ‘I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t trust you,’ Hunter returned, laughing. ‘Keep her on that course and try not to hit anything!’

  She poked her tongue out at him, then laughed, buoyed up by his compliment. The wind tugged at her hair, and the spray caught her face, but she was on cloud nine. As far as she was concerned, they could sail on forever and never stop, so long as they were together.

  However, they put in at a small uninhabited bay not too far along the coast and dropped anchor. Dinner was simple—chicken, French bread, cheese, fruit and white wine—but food had never tasted better. Afterwards they stretched out along the seat-cushion, finishing off the wine.

  ‘Where did you learn to sail?’ Hunter asked, settling her more comfortably into the curve of his arm.

  ‘My father was a sailor. He encouraged me, and later on I joined our local sailing club,’ she explained, trying not to be so vitally aware of his strong body pressed along the length of hers. But it was impossible. Little fires flickered into life all through her, and she wanted nothing more than to turn and press herself closer, to explore the flats and planes his clothes only hinted at.

  ‘Why did you take up modelling?’ Ever so gently his free hand began caressing a line up and down her arm.

  Reba recalled the reason with a twist of her heart. She wanted to explain, but her mother preferred to keep her illness a secret within the family. Although she knew Hunter was trustworthy, she still couldn’t break her promise. ‘I didn’t intend to, but a friend told me I could make a lot of money at it, so I changed my mind.’ It was the truth, as far as it went.

  Hunter’s hand left her arm to go to her chin and raise it so that he could see her face. He was frowning. ‘Is it so important to make a lot of money?’

  She shrugged, trying to make light of it. ‘Of course, if you don’t have any. Only the rich can say money isn’t important, and that’s because they have more than enough for their needs.’ Her eyes clouded over. ‘Sometimes our needs are bigger than our pockets.’

  ‘Mmm, you may be right,’ he conceded, then, in an abrupt change of mood, set his glass down and relieved her of her own. Getting to his feet, he held out his hand. ‘Dance with me.’

  Bemused, she automatically allowed him to pull her up and into his arms. ‘There isn’t any music,’ she protested as he slowly began to move.

  ‘Sure there is. Just close your eyes and listen,’ Hunter argued, pulling her closer until there was no air between them. They fitted as if they had been made two halves of a whole, and as her head came to rest on his shoulder, eyes closing, she began to hear the music.

  Her free hand travelled up to his nape, fingers curling into the thickness of his hair. She could feel his lips on her own hair, slowly fanning downwards to her eye and her cheek, and it was simplicity itself to raise her head the fraction needed for their lips to meet. She heard music of a different kind then, at the first gentle caress. He sipped at her, tasting her sweetness, and her lips softened, moving to his command, parting at the silken glide of his tongue.

  Everything vanished. There was only this exquisite sensation, the gentle exploration slowly building up a powerful need to act and not just react. Her tongue moved, touching his, and the sensation was electric. She gasped, pressing closer, boldly seeking more and more as his kiss became increasingly demanding. They fed off each other, and what had started so gently soon became a conflagration.

  Reba had never experienced anything like it. Nobody had ever made her feel like this, arousing a need that throbbed inside her. As his hands found their way beneath her T-shirt her legs very nearly gave out. His touch was scorching her. She was going up in flames! And yet she wanted to burn. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and she wanted to explore him the same way. The first brush of his thumbs along the swell of her breasts brought a whimper of the purest pleasure to her lips, and when he finally cupped her bounty, stroking her nipples into aching buds, she shuddered and her head fell back helplessly as sh
e arched towards him.

  ‘Hunter!’ His name was an ache of need. She had no doubts, no fears. She gladly gave herself over to him, trusting him implicitly not to hurt her. Anything he wanted, she wanted. He was the lover she had dreamt of. He would take her to the heights and keep her safe. She loved him.

  ‘No!’ Hunter drew his hands away, and her drugged brain registered that they were trembling as he smoothed her T-shirt back down. Gazing into her bewildered eyes, he smiled crookedly. ‘No, Reba. This is too fast. God knows, I want you, but I want to get to know you first. I want us to go slowly, savour everything, not rush on as if there were no tomorrow. When we finally make love it will be all the better for waiting, I promise.’

  Reba felt choked. She had been importuned all her adult life by men who wanted only one thing from her, and now here was the one man she would gladly have given herself to, with no regrets, saying they should wait. It made her feel cherished, and she knew he really cared for her.

  Her eyes glittered brightly with tears that knew nothing of pain. ‘All right,’ she agreed, and sighed as his arms closed around her. ‘After all, we’ve got all the time in the world.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE ten days which followed became a period of time Reba would never forget. Even in her darkest moments, they would hold a warmth and brilliance that could never be dimmed. It was a time of discovery, as much about herself as about Hunter. She discovered what it was like to be truly happy. The fact that that happiness was totally bound up with another person didn’t worry her, because she knew that what was true for her was true for him also.

  Outside work, they became virtually inseparable. At first she was teased unmercifully, but when it became apparent that there was more here than just a passing flirtation, the company grew silent, watching the romance unfolding before them with equal measures of warmth and envy.