The Failed Marriage. Carole Mortimer
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she was damned if she would call him Mr Radcliffe!
‘Probably just a sprain,’ he mumbled, bending down to free himself from his ski, the other one having come loose as he fell and was lying several feet away.
‘Just a sprain?’ she repeated indignantly.
The corners of his mouth quirked into a smile. ‘I’m sure it doesn’t feel trivial to you, but when I had visions of a broken leg at least, a sprained wrist seems quite mild by comparison.’
‘Well, I’m glad about that!’ She struggled to sit up without the use of her right hand, determined to carry out the pretence now that she had started it.
‘No, you aren’t,’ he smiled. ‘But I hope you’ll forgive me for what must seem like callousness. I just didn’t intend going home from here leaving a string of broken bodies behind me.’
Only broken hearts, she thought dreamily. She had fallen under his spell once again as he smiled at her, wouldn’t have cared if she had broken her leg, not if he came to the hospital to visit her. But she hadn’t broken anything, she knew that, even the hurt wrist was just an excuse to stop him getting up and walking away from her.
‘Here, let me.’ He moved to her aid as she struggled to unclasp her skis, the lock proving too stiff for her, his hand lightly brushing hers as he took over the task, although he seemed unaware of the almost electric shock that surged through her. ‘There,’ he straightened. ‘Now let’s see if you can stand up. Then I think we’d better move from here, we seem to be in the way,’ he said dryly as yet another skier manoeuvred past them.
With the aid of his arm about her waist Joanna was able to get unsteadily to her feel, more sure than ever that she was going to feel the bruising tomorrow. And the hardness of Joshua’s body as he pressed her to his side didn’t help the shaking of her legs or the racing of her pulse-rate.
‘I’ll drive you back to the cabins,’ he told her when they had reached the car park, Joshua somehow managing to keep an arm about her waist and carry their skis and poles in the other—and doing it with ease too! ‘I have a rental car,’ he explained as he leant the poles and skis against the side of the TransAm while he unlocked the passenger door for her, seeing her seated before attaching the skis to the roof-rack, putting their boots and poles in the boot.
She had seen the gold-coloured car with the brown eagle transfer across its bonnet about the complex, but she hadn’t realised it was being driven by this man. ‘My mother and father are renting a station wagon,’ she told him as he got in beside her.
‘So you’re here with your parents,’ he murmured. ‘I wondered.’
‘You did?’ she gasped.
He nodded. ‘They don’t ski?’
‘Oh yes, they do. But not very often,’ she confirmed his next unasked question. ‘I didn’t see you about at the beginning of the week.’ She made the statement into a question.
‘That’s because I wasn’t,’ he drawled.
‘Oh?’ she persisted, wondering if he had spent the time with a woman.
He sighed. ‘I went up to Sunshine for a few days,’ he named the other ski area at Banff.
Relief flooded through her. ‘Any good?’
‘Very. But a little more crowded than Norquay.’
He helped her out of the car once they reached the cabins, and Joanna didn’t feel it necessary to tell him it was her wrist that was injured, not her leg. She enjoyed having him touch her too much!
But when he took her to his own cabin she felt some of her brash self-confidence leave her. She dated a lot when she was at home, but they were usually boys, friends of the family; she had certainly never gone home alone with any of them!
The cabin had the same luxurious layout as the one. she was sharing with her parents, the large open-plan lounge and kitchen area, the beautiful stone fireplace in the lounge showing evidence of its recent use, although both the kitchen and lounge were very tidy. She knew there was a bathroom and two bedrooms leading off this, although Joshua took her straight into the lounge, inviting her to sit down on the sofa while he looked at her wrist.
Long sensitive fingers probed her loosely held wrist. ‘There’s no swelling,’ he seemed to speak almost to himself. ‘And I can’t feel any damage. But I’ll bandage it up anyway,’ he offered as he saw her mutinous expression. ‘It can’t do any harm.’ He straightened. ‘And it may do some good. I won’t be a minute.’
Joanna took advantage of his absence to slip out of her ski-suit, her soft wool jumper in the same blue as her eyes and the close-fitting denims she wore beneath the suit warm enough in the centrally heated cabin.
Joshua had removed his own ski-suit when he joined her a few minutes later, the black cords and thick black sweater giving him a satanic look, his warm virility tangible in the confines of the room Joanna’s pulse fluttered nervously.
He bandaged her wrist with quick decisive movements, his head bent as he concentrated on the task.
Joanna watched him without interruption, feeling the excitement surge through her. As if her pulse had leapt beneath his fingertips he looked up at her, his eyes narrowing as she blushed, her hair once again released to cascade down her back. ‘Er—very professional,’ she felt compelled to say something, looking down at the perfectly bandaged wrist to bide the flare of desire she felt sure must be in her eyes.
‘It should be,’ he drawled. ‘I’m a doctor.’
‘Oh,’ trust her! ‘Where in England do you practise?’ she asked interestedly.
He looked up at her unblinkingly. ‘Why do you want to know?’
She swallowed hard, knowing by the hardness in his eyes that she was being too obvious again. ‘I just—wondered,’ she said lamely. ‘It must be an interesting profession.’
‘It is,’ he nodded abruptly, securing the bandage. ‘And I have a practice in London.’
London. Well, at least they lived in the same city! Although she would be leaving for Switzerland at the end of the summer. Still, that was months away. She had his name and the fact that he worked in London. There couldn’t be that many Dr Joshua Radcliffes in town.
He looked up at her once again. ‘How does it feel?’
‘It—–? Oh—fine.’ She blushed as she realised he was talking about the bandage. ‘Your patients must feel very safe with you,’ she added softly, meeting his gaze in challenge.
He was still down on his haunches in front of her. ‘And you?’ he prompted huskily. ‘Do you feel—safe with me?’
Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden warmth in his eyes. ‘No.’
‘No?’ He quirked dark brows mockingly.
Delicate colour warmed her cheeks at the way he was deliberately tormenting her, her mouth tightening defiantly. He wouldn’t be amused by her, he wouldn’t! ‘No,’ she said determinedly, bending her head to put her mouth against his.
Because of the precariousness of his position the assault knocked him off balance, his hands coming out to grasp her arms, both of them tumbling to the floor, the deep-pile carpet and thick rug in front of the fireplace cushioning their fall.
Joshua raised his head, his eyes glittering like a storm-tossed sea as he glared down at her. ‘Why, you little—–!’ His mouth ground down on hers in anger,
determined to hurt her.
She had never been kissed with such intimacy before, her mouth parting beneath Joshua’s as he probed her lips, ravaging and raping her mouth as she lay stunned in his arms, her inexperience shocked by his sexual attack on her body, his hands beneath the thickness of her jumper now, laying claim to one taut breast, tantalising the nipple with sure fingertips.