Lonely Pride, Page 2

  Chapter Two

  With her face pressed against his shirtfront the steady thump of his heart filled her ears. The scent of him wafted around her, so familiar, yet so alien.

  Slowly, Sam lifted her head, bringing her face on a level with his. His brown eyes were fixed on her mouth and she swallowed hard as he captured her chin in his fingers—fingers that trembled as violently as hers.

  His warm breath fanned her cheeks and the hand on her chin felt hot. A deep frown marred his forehead and it shook her to the core when she realized she was waiting for him to kiss her. Sliding his hands down until they rested on her waist he suddenly pulled her close to him and brought his mouth to hers.

  The kiss began gently but rapidly deepened until he was searching the inner recesses of her mouth. Their combined breathing echoed in the hush of the cabin as she laced her fingers through his hair, some distant part of her reveling in the feel of its richness beneath her touch.

  Sam was aware her breasts were aching for the hand that had moved to her shoulder to continue on its journey and ease the ache. He didn’t disappoint her, his palm covered one swollen peak while the other tangled in her hair. In an involuntary response, she arched into him.

  He pulled back a fraction, just enough to murmur her name. His breathing sounded tortured and his nostrils flared as he said her name again. “It’s been so long.” Any further words were lost to her, smothered under the intensity of his kiss. It contained a ferocity that would have frightened her in anyone else. But this was Mac.

  That realization came like a slap in the face. With a push, she separated them. Her lips burned and she touched a fingertip to them, shuddering. She’d never been kissed like that, by anyone. Long ago, Mac kissed her when she’d been barely more than a child, and he’d awakened a sensuality in her that had never been satisfied.

  It seemed she’d waited all her adult life to feel this way. One of his large hands still stroked up and down her arm, arousing all sorts of sensations within her. She closed her eyes and turned her head away for fear he would see the wanting she knew was blatant there.

  “I always knew it would be like that between us,” he said huskily, and she flinched. His had been the kiss of an experienced man, while she felt like an innocent teenager.

  “And just where did you learn to kiss like that,” she sniped, pushing at his hand still wandering up and down her arm. “How many women have taught you their skills? Or did Clare teach you all the tricks she knows?”

  In the ensuing silence while he stared at her, she struggled to straighten her dress where it had rucked up over her knees. The glitter in his eyes made him look wild. Whether with anger of frustration she didn’t know.

  “Good God! Still on about Clare. When will you get over this obsession about her? You are so far removed from the child and young woman I knew and...” He swore softly.

  “So are you.” With a hasty movement Sam turned, only then remembering they were on an angle, tipped sideways. Everything had been forgotten while in his arms.

  “Isn’t it about time we forgot the past. It’s been a long time.” He mussed his hair, and she noticed his fingers still trembled. Good. It was pleasing to know she wasn’t the only one affected by those kisses. But he was more likely annoyed rather than impassioned. Just like a man to think he could kiss and make up so easily. “You’re practically engaged to this Peter. It would be nice if we could be friends.”

  “Friends?” She felt like screaming. How could he suggest such a thing? “Friends trust each other. I could never trust you any further than I could toss you. How could you trust a man who swears to be faithful to her...then makes love to another woman?”

  Her fists coiled and her insides clenched. It took all her self-control to quell a desire to hit out at him, to try and inflict just a small measure of hurt to make up for all the agony he’d caused her.

  With another oath he grasped her nape and twisted a handful of hair in a fist. His other hand dug into the flesh of her upper arm. “Damn you, woman! I never made love to Clare.” With little gentleness he shook her.

  The pain in her scalp brought tears to her eyes. “Don’t manhandle me. Since when did you resort to caveman tactics? Another bad habit you’ve learnt from Clare. She may like macho men, but cruelty in a man never appealed to me.” Unsuccessfully she tried to free herself.

  Before she drew another breath he silenced her with his mouth, and the bruising pressure he exerted muffled her outrage. He seemed bent on punishing her and Sam twisted violently in his arms. The last thing she wanted was to respond to him, but it seemed her body ruled her head.

  Surrender would be the easiest thing and she hated herself as the attack altered and the kiss became coaxing, seductive, overpowering her senses.

  Every nerve ending came alive as he crushed her to him, reducing her to a quivering mess. Far from being torture, it was sweet heaven to feel his hard chest against her softness. This was how she’d yearned for him to kiss her so long ago...

  As her fingers sought the opening of his shirt and touched his hair-roughened chest she realized dazedly he was pushing her away. Opening her eyes, she found he’d moved back to his seat, leaving her floundering in a sea of self-disgust and reproach.

  He was fastening buttons she must have undone, and she wanted to die. His withdrawal was like a slap in the face, a kick in the stomach. His recovery seemed instantaneous as he clicked his seatbelt in place and motioned for her to do the same.

  “It’s a good thing we’re in a four wheel drive, or we’d never get out of this gully,” he said. She stared mutely at him. Was he as unaffected by the passion that flared between them as he made out? It seemed he was, for he said matter-of-factly, “I’d better alert the police.” As soon as they were on level ground he jabbed in a number on his mobile, and spoke for a few moments, giving the police details of their whereabouts and the vehicle that forced them off the road.

  Reversing cautiously he drove back onto the bitumen. Her stomach somersaulted when she glanced out to see that had they careened onto the other embankment they could have dropped at least a hundred feet into the trees lining the densely overgrown gully.

  Silently he brought his gaze to meet hers, his brooding expression hard to read. The silent restraint hung there until they reached the quiet streets of the town where Sam spent the first part of her life. A few residents sat on benches in the shade of the invitingly cool trees lining the main street. Every person gave Mac’s familiar vehicle a wave.

  Sam couldn’t hold back the sigh that burst from her. Her heart belonged in this place where once she’d fitted, as he did. Each visit made her feel just a little more alienated from these down to earth hard-working people who always found time for a friendly word, no matter how hard-pressed they might be.

  There was an old worldly charm about the town that gave it individuality. Even the few modern shops the owners had been encouraged to renovate were in keeping with the character of the older stores. Looking towards the hospital where she’d been born she barely held a sob inside, but that sob rose to almost choke her when she saw the poster announcing the shop her father had been so proud of was UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT.

  “How are the new owners coping?” she managed to ask, her voice brittle.

  “Well enough. They seem to have more business sense than poor old Robert.” Poor old Robert, indeed!

  He must have heard the small sound of derision she couldn’t hold back, for he gave her the full benefit of his glare as he said harshly, “I hope you don’t make your dislike of him as blatant as you used to. Barbara has been through hell.”

  Sam returned his scowl in equal measure. He sounded as if he despised her. “Give me credit for a bit of common sense.” Her tone contained as much icy disdain as she could muster.

  He didn’t answer, for he was turning into the driveway of the house she’d lived in all her life, until she’d moved across Bass Strait to the mainland. Although two short blocks from the main street the house h
ad such a large garden, where shrubs, trees and flowers abounded, it gave the impression of isolation.

  Her mother must have been waiting by the window, for the moment the vehicle came to a standstill, she was out of the house and coming towards them.

  “Sam, darling,” she cried. “Thank goodness you could get away.” Pulling her close she hugged her warmly. “I had this awful notion you might not manage to come so soon after the Christmas break.”

  “Don’t be daft, Mum.” Sam ignored Mac’s raised brows as she hooked her arm through Barbara’s. Together they went into the house, where it was blissfully cool. “Of course I was able to take time off. I’m not that dedicated to my job. Besides, Peter told me to take as long as I need.” She glanced across at Mac as he placed her luggage on the carpet, managing to give him a haughty stare, which seemed to leave him unmoved. “I needn’t rush back. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

  “That’s wonderful, darling.” Barbara turned to Mac with a smile. “Thanks for picking her up, Mac. You’re a dear. I couldn’t have faced that drive. Want a drink?”

  “No thanks, I’ll head off now.” He glanced at his watch. Giving Sam a look that seemed to her to be full of sarcasm, he added, “It was a pleasure. I told you I’m always available if you should need me.” Turning for the door he stopped by Sam, and she jumped as he reached out a hand. For one moment she thought he was about to kiss her again, but instead he stroked a finger down her cheek. Moistening her lips she drew back sharply. “Take care. And keep the windows and doors locked,” he advised before leaving.

  “Whatever did he mean by that cryptic comment?” Barbara frowned in puzzlement. “How on earth can we shut the house up on such a hot day?”

  Sam bit her lip. “Didn’t you hear the news?” Sitting down she dragged off her tights with a sigh. “Two murderers are apparently on the run somewhere in the district. I doubt they’ll come near town.” She didn’t feel the need to relate the incident on the road. “We’ll do as Mac suggests and be on the safe side.”

  She went to pick up her larger suitcase and took it along the passageway to her bedroom, then returned for the smaller one. Barbara still wore a worried frown so Sam put her arms about her. “Don’t fret.” After a moment she added quietly, “I’m so sorry about Robert.”

  “I know dear.” Her mother patted her arm, her expression sad.