The Hidden Years. PENNY JORDANЧитать онлайн книгу.
to, I’m afraid, old girl. Duty calls and all that…’
‘But… I thought…’ She had thought they would have longer together. She had thought there would be more time…
‘Don’t worry… Shouldn’t be too long before I can get a twenty-four-hour pass,’ Kit lied to her. The last thing he wanted right now was a tearful scene.
Already, now that his desire for her was sated, he was beginning to forget how sharply he had wanted her. Soon she would be no more than another memory… another girl to join all the others there had been. It was wartime, and a man like him who lived constantly on the edge of danger was entitled to take what pleasure he could from life.
They made their way back to where Kit had parked his car in silence. Whatever she did, she must not give way to her misery…she must not break down in tears. Men hated seeing women cry, Lizzie knew. And, besides, she must be strong now, she must send him away from her with a smile so that his last memory of her would be a good one.
She ached to plead with him not to go and see Edward but to spend what leave he had left with her, but acknowledged the selfishness of her thoughts. Poor Edward had such an unhappy life. Kit was the first visitor he had had since she had come to the hospital. She must not be demanding…greedy. After all, he had promised her that he would see her again just as soon as he could get a pass…unless of course he was sent into action.
Action. The very word made her shudder with fear. Where before it had simply been another word, a word to terrify other women, now she knew its full horror and bone-chilling danger for herself.
Now she had been admitted to the ranks of those of her sex whose loved ones were at risk and she knew the full anguish and despair of what that meant: the inescapable weight of dread and hope for the life of another human being.
From now on there would be no nights of peaceful sleep for her; never again would she hear planes overhead without her stomach churning with fear. Never again would she know a moment’s peace other than for those few precious hours that Kit could spend with her. Only with him held in her arms would she know he was truly safe. Not until this war was finally over would she know true peace of mind again…the war over and Kit safely with her, the rest of their lives ahead of them for them to share and enjoy, for them to cherish their love, for her to show him emotionally and physically how much he meant to her. Her physical coldness, her inability to respond to him as she had wanted to respond—these were things she must not dwell on now. She bit her lip, wishing for the first time in her life that she had a female confidante, someone she could turn to for advice and reassurance. To listen to the other girls in the dormitory one would assume that sex was a source of huge amusement to them, a careless sharing of their bodies, in return for their lovers’ gifts; from her reading she had learned that it was one of the highest pleasures two human beings could attain together, and yet for her…
She started to tremble. What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she enjoyed it? Why…?
They were standing beside the car now, as Kit moved towards her and told her lightly, ‘Better not give you a lift, sweetheart. Don’t want to set people gossiping, do we…? Don’t want to get you in trouble with that matron of yours.’
‘No. No, I suppose not,’ Lizzie agreed, and then, abandoning her pride, abandoning her restraint, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed, ‘You will write to me, won’t you, Kit…? I’m so sorry I was a…a disappointment to you…’
She held her breath, waiting for him to deny it, to offer her some soothing panacea…but instead he simply shrugged and released himself from her, telling her casually, ‘I expect you’re just one of those women who isn’t any good at sex… Give me your address…it will be better if I write to you first. If I’m sent into action it might be a while before your letters catch up with me. There’s talk of us being posted abroad…’
‘Abroad… but…’
Quickly he shook his head. ‘’Fraid I can’t say any more, sweetheart…shouldn’t have told you that much. All very hush-hush at the moment…’
Lizzie had a small notebook in her handbag and she tore a leaf out of it, her hand trembling as she wrote down her address for him. As he pocketed it, and before he climbed into his car, he told her carelessly, ‘Chin up, old thing, and don’t worry—just as soon as I can get a pass I’ll be back to see you.’
He was a man who never gave much thought to the consequences of his actions. A conscience wasn’t something that bothered him unduly, but now, looking into her face, seeing the love reflected so innocently there, an odd, unfamiliar sensation flickered inside him.
It made him feel uncomfortable and irritated at the same time. Stupid girl, didn’t she realise…? He glanced at her and saw the purity of her profile, the soft naturalness of her blonde hair, the clearness of her skin, and something approaching regret stirred inside him.
She was lovely, her body lissom and tender; his body began to ache and he realised with increasing resentment that he still wanted her. Characteristically he blamed her for it, reminding himself that it was her lack of expertise that had cut short his lovemaking. Even while he was resenting her, wanting to leave her, an impulse he couldn’t control made him lean across to cup her face with his hand so that he could kiss her.
Lizzie’s heart swelled with frantic joy. Just for a moment she had begun to doubt…to wonder…but no, she had simply been foolish. Of course he loved her just as she loved him.
‘I’ll write as soon as I can,’ he told her thickly, knowing that he was lying and that once he was away from her he would soon forget this unfamiliar, unwanted ache she made him feel. Suddenly another thought struck him. ‘Not a word about this…us to cousin Edward,’ he warned her, and then, seeing her face, amended, ‘at least, not yet…’
He was right, Lizzie recognised. Their feelings for one another were too new, too precious to be shared with a third party…
As he drove away she watched until the last of the dust raised by his wheels had finally settled.
Less than a mile down the road Kit suddenly frowned, an unpleasant possibility occurring to him.
It was all very well for Lizzie to have agreed now not to say a word to Edward about what had happened, but, when a few weeks had gone by without her hearing from him, would she still keep that promise?
It wasn’t that he cared one way or the other what Edward thought about him, but what if Edward should attempt to get in touch with his CO on the stupid girl’s behalf? It was just the kind of thing he would do, damn him!
Still frowning, he thought quickly. He had her address—a brief note sent when he got back to camp, telling her that he was being posted abroad and wouldn’t be able either to give her his address or get in touch for some time…yes…yes, that should do it.
The odd letter, two or even three perhaps. He scowled to himself, cursing under his breath, already regretting his involvement.
Damn Edward for the interfering old woman he could be, but he dared not take the chance, however slight, of Edward making trouble for him. He had already received a couple of warnings and the threat that if his CO had to discipline him a third time he would be grounded permanently, and he wasn’t having that.
If Kit loved anything it was flying, flying and the mixture of exhilaration and fear that came with going into action, better by far than any thrill he got from having sex.
Yes, little as he relished the idea, once he was back at camp he would have to drop the damned girl a line, carefully omitting his address, of course…
In Lizzie’s heart was a mixture of joy and desolation. Joy in their finding of one another, in their coming together in a physical celebration of their love—trying to forget her own pain and shock, selflessly thinking only of Kit, of his pleasures, his needs, his satisfaction. And desolation because they had had so little time together.
Her body ached in an unfamiliar way, a faint tenderness between