not?’ Her mouth was dry, and she moistened her lips as his hands slid up over her rib-cage to cup her breasts.
But she knew. She had read books, and her instincts warned her that she was playing with fire. Yet she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him to hold her, and the thin material of her chemise was no barrier to the way her breasts responded to his touch, swelling and hardening beneath his experienced fingers.
‘Oh, Jake …’ she breathed chokingly, using his name without thinking, and with a muffled oath, he twisted her round in his arms and covered her mouth with his.
A thousand stars seemed to explode in her head at the touch of his lips, and she clung to him desperately as the room swung giddily about her. She realised with a pang that she had never been kissed before this moment. The boyish embraces she had endured had never felt like this, and the muscled hardness of his thighs made her overwhelmingly aware of what she was inviting.
He released her lips to bury his face in her neck, his hands tangled in her hair, and she realised he was trembling. There was a heady intoxication in the knowledge that she could arouse him in this way, and her hands burrowed beneath his sweater, finding the slightly damp skin of his back. He was so hard and male and virile, and she pressed herself closer against him, delighting in the strength of his legs against hers.
But suddenly, with a stifled oath, Jake set her free, turning away from her violently, raking back his hair with unsteady hands. He put the width of the couch between them, and then turned to look at her through tormented eyes. Rachel was shocked by his pallor, the way his eyes seemed to have sunk further into his head, and she stared at him anxiously as he made an obvious effort to behave normally.
‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘What’s wrong?’
Jake made a negative gesture. ‘I think you’d better go.’
‘Jake——’
He turned his back on her, resting his hands on the mantel above the hearth. ‘God, I need a drink!’ he muttered. Then: ‘Don’t make it any harder than it already is, Rachel. Just go!’
‘But why? Why? What have I done?’ She was confused. ‘Are you still angry with me?’
He sighed, casting a contemptuous look in her direction. ‘I think you know better than that,’ he told her heavily. He straightened, staring up at the hunting scene pictured above the fireplace. ‘I suppose I should apologise. But you asked for it.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘Jake, don’t say things like that!’ she implored wretchedly. ‘I—well, I’m sorry if I—if I did something wrong, but I’ve never——’
‘That’s just it!’ he declared savagely. ‘You’ve never. But I have. And I wanted to, but God help me, I can’t!’
Rachel’s face flamed. ‘Why—why not? Or—or is that what’s wrong with you?’
A faint wave of colour entered his cheeks at her words, and she was horrified at her own audacity in voicing them. ‘Is that what you think?’ he demanded.
Rachel quivered. ‘I don’t know, do I?’
He was breathing hard. ‘Well,’ he ground out harshly, ‘not to my knowledge. But I’m not such a swine as to take advantage of a girl young enough to be my daughter!’
Rachel caught her lip between her teeth. ‘That’s what you say …’
He made a bitter sound, dragging the palms of his hands down over his thighs. ‘If you must know, I had a breakdown! I went to pieces. Couldn’t work—couldn’t sleep!’ His lips curled. ‘I was a wreck. But not impotent!’
Rachel pressed her palms to her hot cheeks. ‘I—I suppose what you’re really saying is, I—I’m not very good at it, am I?’
Jake stared at her frustratedly, and the intensity of his stare achieved its usual breath-stopping effect. Then he said flatly: ‘All right—no. You’re not very good. You’re much too inexperienced.’
The callousness of his statement robbed her of what little composure she had left. ‘Then—then why pretend it’s anything else?’ she cried tearfully, and appalled at her lack of self-control, she turned towards the door.
‘Rachel!’ His tone stopped her, containing as it did a reluctant reassurance. ‘Rachel, I am sorry, believe me. But I am too old for you.’
She swung round again, searching his features for some sign of his real feelings. ‘You’re not old,’ she exclaimed.
‘I think we both know I am,’ he said evenly. ‘And what is more, if your employer learns that you’ve been here, I run the risk of being blacklisted by the management.’
Rachel bent her head, her hair tumbling with unknowing sensuality about her shoulders. ‘I don’t believe you care what the management think,’ she retorted.
He sighed. ‘Well, accept that I care what happens to you,’ he said.
Her eyes lifted, seeking his. ‘Do you?’
‘Enough not to want to ruin your life,’ he responded crushingly. ‘But thank you for the compliment.’
‘What compliment?’
He gave her a crooked smile. ‘It’s good for my morale to know that a beautiful girl wasn’t averse to my kissing her.’
‘Oh, Jake!’
She took a step towards him, but he shook his head firmly, and she halted again.
‘Go to bed, Rachel,’ he told her roughly. ‘You’ll thank me for this one day.’
Rachel didn’t answer him. She just stood looking at him with all the hurt fervour of her untried youth, and he flung himself down on to the couch, closing his eyes against the unconscious allure of her.
‘Go away, Rachel,’ he said, and she had no choice but to obey him.
In her own room again, Rachel paced miserably about the floor. What a disastrous affair it had been! The brief elation she had felt in his arms had quickly evaporated in the aftermath, but although she knew she ought to feel grateful to him for not despoiling her innocence, she didn’t feel that way. She ached with the longings he had aroused inside her, and when she closed her eyes she could see nothing but him—his sardonic face, the long narrow fingers, and the lean muscular strength of his body. She would have stayed with him, if he had asked her to, if he had wanted her to; she would have been a willing pupil …
She was scarcely conscious of the passage of time, but a spell must have elapsed before Della came knocking at her door. Not knowing at first who it might be, Rachel quickly switched on the television and went to answer it without any of the coolness she would have liked to have possessed. The older woman’s probing stare was denigrating.
‘You haven’t taken Minstrel for his walk,’ Della stated accusingly, and Rachel blinked.
‘Minstrel?’ she echoed dazedly.
‘Yes, Minstrel.’ Della looked at her suspiciously. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ She looked beyond her into
