Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
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I like being with her. She’s good company. Fun, intelligent, with a great sense of humour. She’s easy-going, undemanding. She enjoys everything, is good-tempered, isn’t self-obsessed or demanding of my attention—though I’m more than happy to lavish it on her because I so enjoy being with her.
The litany ran on in his head, concluding with the most obvious reason of all. In bed, he and she set off fireworks!
Ardent, passionate, sensual, sensitive, affectionate...
The litany set off again. And was cut brutally short as she shook her head again. He saw emotion flash across her face, then vanish. There was something different about her suddenly. Something that reminded him, with a sudden flicker of concern, an inward frown, of the way she’d looked when he’d first gone to look over Haughton and succumbed to its charms. As if she were locked inside herself. Shutting out the world. Shutting him out.
And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want it at all.
OK, he allowed, trying to rationalise her reaction, so she was jet-lagged. Flying the red-eye was never a fun experience. But her wavering was more than just sleep deprivation and grogginess. His thoughts raced on swiftly. Was it because although he was two hundred per cent sure he had no desire to call it quits between them, she might not realise that? Was she feeling uncertain about him? About what they had between them?
He took her hand in his, squeezed it tight. Time to reassure her.
‘Ellen—we are good together. Never doubt that. So let’s go on making the most of it until your term starts. Don’t cut this short unnecessarily—come with me to the Gulf! I want to show you as much of the world as I can. I want—’
But she tugged her hand free, stepping a pace away from him, her face working. Emotions were swilling within her—a turbulent mix. All the way back on the flight it had been worsening with the knowledge that her time with Max was ending. And it must end. That was the blunt truth of it. She would be back at school, and Max would either be pressing ahead with his proposed purchase of her home—although Pauline would have to start legal proceedings against her to force a sale—or else he would be backing off and leaving Haughton alone.
Whichever he did, her time with him would have ended. And while part of her—the part that had her heart leaping at the thought of what his words meant—was saying, Go with him now—take these last few days with him! she could not let herself listen to it. A few more days and then she would be back here again, just as she was now, and their time together would be over.
Better for it to be over now. Because the longer you are with him, each and every day, the worse it will be for you when it’s finally over. The more you will fear that you’re falling in love with him—which you must not do. You must not!
Because whether she was falling in love with him, or whether it was just an obvious reaction to her first romance, it was going to hurt, doing without Max—it was hurting already...had been hurting all the way across the Atlantic...this prospect of her time with Max running out, reaching its close.
I’m going to have to do without him. I’m going to have to go home, back to my life, and keep fighting for Haughton to the bitter end.
So she had to crush down the rush of joy that came from the knowledge that Max wanted to spend more time with her.
She sought for the right words to say to him. ‘Max, I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. Never!’ Emotion filled her voice, though it was low and strained. ‘You’ve given me a gift I never thought to have—and this time with you has been...miraculous. I’ll always be grateful to you—’
He cut across her. ‘I don’t want your gratitude! I want you to come to the Gulf with me, make the most of our time now, before your term starts again. It’s not too much to ask of you, is it?’
His tone was persuasive, compelling, but there was an edge to it as well. Didn’t she want to be with him for longer? That bite of emotion came again, and with it another spiralling upwards of frustration.
She was staring across at him, her hands lifted as if—damn it—as if she were holding him at bay. Ellen was holding him off—
Emotion bit in him again, more painful this time.
‘Max—it isn’t that. It’s...it’s just that it’ll only be postponing the time when I have to get back to Haughton. And it seems to me that it might as well happen now, rather than in a few days’ time, when I’ll just be right back here, facing the same situation. I have to go back to Haughton. And it isn’t just because term is starting, it’s because it’s where I want to be—’
She broke off. Echoing bleakly in her head were the unspoken words—while I still have it.
But that was too painful even to think—too painful to say to the man who was trying to take it from her. Even though she knew that if it was not him who wanted to buy it at some point someone else would, and Pauline and Chloe would force the sale through, and she would lose the place she held so dear to her. The place where all her happiness was centred.
Yet even as the clutch of emotion that always came when she thought of Haughton gripped her, so did another.
All my happiness? And what of the happiness I’ve had with Max? What of that?
But her mind sheered away. Whatever happiness she’d had with Max, it was never, ever going to be anything other than temporary. How could it be otherwise? He’d transformed her into a woman who could finally indulge in her own sensuality—a gift she would always be grateful for, just as she’d told him. But for him...? Well, she was just a...a novelty, maybe, made all the more intriguing by the revelation of her desirability for him. Whatever her appeal for him, she had to accept that she was no more than a good companion, in bed and out, while they were together.
‘We’re good together,’ he’d said, and it was true.
But it did not make it anything more.
Time for me to go home.
She shook her head, her expression anguished now. ‘I just want to go home, Max,’ she said. ‘It’s all I want to do.’
Even as she spoke she could feel that anguish spearing her. Yes, she wanted to go home—to be there while she still could, before it was torn from her—but it was not all she wanted. She wanted Max—oh, how she wanted him, to be with him—but even if she stayed now it would only be putting off what must be the inevitable end, only be making it worse for herself. So best for her to go now—go now and have precious time at the home that she could only lose in the end.
He saw her expression and hated seeing it. Hated hearing her say what she had said. Telling him she didn’t want to be with him—wanted instead to return to the place he was trying to free her from. Frustration boiled up in him—more than frustration. It was an emotion he did not want to name, could not name. It boiled over. He stepped towards her, closed his hands around her arms, fastening her to him.
‘Ellen, don’t do this. Your obsession with Haughton isn’t healthy. It’s poisoning you. Chaining you to a life you should not be living!’
His voice was urgent, his expression burning. Here they were, not an hour back in the UK, and she was already reverting to what she’d been like when he’d first known her. He had to stop that—right now! He had to make her see what she was doing to herself. Had to convince her, finally, that she must set herself free from her self-imposed chains. Chains that were as constraining and as deadly as those of her belief that she lacked beauty or desirability had been.
He took a shuddering breath, surged on with what he must say to her now to set her free.
Free to seize life with both hands. Free to take all it offers. Free to be with me—
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