Half an hour later, kneeling by the fireplace, Barbara tried to rekindle the dying fire. Life was obviously getting better. She even managed a quick shower and a change of clothes, replacing her soaked clothes with ones she'd found in the wardrobe. The oversized turtleneck warmed her body, but not her soul. Inside she was ready to explode.
- Shit!" she allowed herself a hearty groan as another match went out without fulfilling its purpose.
- Let me do it!
Turning her head, she glanced over her shoulder at Linley standing behind her. In his black jumper and trousers, barefoot, he reminded her of a demon. A bloody attractive demon.
Lynley had taken up the fireplace, but Barbara could physically feel his gaze on her.
- What?! She couldn't take it anymore.
- You look insane. - he paused, searching for the right word, disappointed.
- Well, do something about it! - Barbara jumped to her feet.
Tommy followed her. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his whole body against hers.
- What can I do? When it comes to you, I'm stumped - - there was annoyance in his voice. - I don't know what to say to the woman I love and want more than anything in the world. Teach me, Havers!
He looked at her with a desperate plea.
Now that she knew what it felt like to be in his arms, knew the taste of his lips, was it possible to give it up? What was she trying to do now? Stop the water flying down the waterfall below? Impossible!
No one with the most skilful caresses and delicacy could have awakened in Barbara what his demanding, chaotic, greedy movements had awakened in her.
She had not had much experience. That other one, the one that had been hopelessly long ago, back in the days of her distant adolescence ... Damn it, he couldn't be blamed, after all, he was trying... However, the more he tried to impress her, the less she liked it. Everything that was going on seemed ridiculous and fake to her. At some point he got tired of her indifferent detachment and gave up playing Romeo, thinking only of his own satisfaction.
Linley was different. He was somewhere beyond, and in spite of that he confidently led his party, led eagerly, proudly, affectionately. He was real, there was not an ounce of falsity in him, he made no effort, in his greedy desire he was just being himself.
This night they found common ground, as they had found it always and in everything. It worked like a mechanism honed over years. And Barbara was not at all a passive statistic. Not with him! Her desire was too great, her love too unbearable.
How? How could it all come together in one man? The eighth Earl of Asherton, rich man, her chief, her friend, her soul and her love. On this night her world was crumbling and being born anew, a totally different one.
Somewhere in the back of her mind the realisation came to her that their relationship had subtly changed long ago. Tommy had deliberately rocked the boat, robbing her of the perfect balance she had achieved. At the time, she couldn't understand the reason or the purpose. It was as if he were trying to subdue her. Now she realised the kind of power he wanted to assert over her. Not the chief's. A man! And to that authority she submitted.