The Wings of Love Read online

  Tressy tried to retrieve the situation as much as she could by lifting her hand to wave and calling out, 'Hi, we've been looking for you. Where were you?'

  Nora came over, eyeing them uncertainly. 'I was inside. Did you want me?' she added hopefully, looking at Cris.

  'Cris has something to ask you, haven't you, Cris?' 'Why, yes.' Fortunately he followed her lead. 'I was wondering if you would care to spend the day in Menton tomorrow? The four of us, of course,' he added when Nora hesitated.

  The disappointment in Nora's eyes was plain to see, and Tressy felt a flash of anger at her inability to conceal her feelings. 'Excuse me,' she said abruptly, and strode away, leaving them together, but when the band returned she noticed that Cris danced with someone else before he danced with Nora.

  Tressy sat on the terrace wall, looking out over the lawn, her eyes drawn' to the couple as they moved slowly in time to the music. He held Nora loosely, his head a little to one side as he listened to her talking animatedly, gesturing with her free hand. He was quite the tallest and best-looking man there, his tan deeper now, his lithe body moving easily, attracting the glances of every woman at the party. There was something about him that drew women's eyes, an arrant masculinity that they instinctively recognized and which excited their imaginations, arousing their primitive instinct to be mastered, perhaps. But Crispin's powerful maleness was contained beneath several layers of civilized good manners and it would, Tressy guessed, take a great deal of provocation to pierce his self-containment. She sensed that although he was listening to Nora, he wasn't giving her his full attention, but he was much too polite to show it, to be unkind to a woman in any way. Except to her. He had been downright rude to her on more than one occasion, Tressy remembered indignantly.

  As if there was telepathy between them, Cris chose that moment to look up, his eyes meeting hers and holding them locked to his. It was really too far away to be sure, but she felt a distinct challenge in his gaze and her chin came up in immediate defiance. Almost she could feel his kisses again on her lips, the fierce strength of his hands as he had held her prisoner in his embrace. She flushed as she realized that he had intended her to remember and her eyes flashed angrily, but she didn't look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of disconcerting her. Who would have won in the end she never knew, because Nora, wondering why he had slowed down, pulled him round so that all Tressy could see was his back.

  For the rest of the evening she kept out of his way, which was easy, because Cris made no attempt to come near her again, although Michel later came up and asked her to dance. Tressy looked at him rather guiltily. 'Are you sure you want to?'

  'But of course. Why should I not wish to dance with you?' he asked as he put his arm round her waist.

  'I was very rude to you earlier on.'

  He shrugged expansively. 'One can forgive a beautiful woman anything.'

  'Oh, for heaven's sake! How can you say that? The way someone looks can't excuse what they do,' Tressy exclaimed. 'You surely don't believe it?'

  Michel looked amused. 'If I don't, then I should be angry with you, hen?'

  'Well, so you should,' Tressy admitted. She hesitated. 'Cris says I have to apologise to you.'

  His eyebrows rose. 'And are you going to obey him?' 'Certainly not! He can't order me around. Although,' she added after a moment, 'if he hadn't ordered me to I might have said I was sorry.'

  The Frenchman laughed delightedly. 'So, honour is satisfied. And I forgive you, but not because you are a beautiful woman.' He shook his head. 'You English-I shall never fully understand you, I think.'

  The music changed to a fast beat number and the party began to really liven up. Tressy danced with everyone who asked her and let herself go with the music, getting as hot and breathless as all the other dancers. But she felt a strange detachment, as if only half of her was taking part, and when, inevitably, people started getting drunk enough to jump in the pool, some not even bothering to change into swimsuits, Tressy went inside and sat in an armchair in the deserted and unlit drawing-room, kicking off her sandals and tucking her feet under her. Through the open windows she could hear the shouts of encouragement and high-pitched squeaks as a girl got thrown in. Nora was out there; Tressy recognized her laugh, but it didn't sound as if she'd gone in the water yet, and she would probably make sure she didn't unless Crispin went in too, and somehow Tressy couldn't envisage him doing so, not at a party.

  And she was right; twenty minutes or so later she heard his voice in the hall, saying goodnight to some departing guests, and Nora's voice, too, joined in the chorus of goodbyes. Then Cris said, 'I expect you'll be tired in the morning so we won't come to pick you up until ten-thirty. Will that be okay?'

  'Yes, of course.' Tressy heard Nora hesitate. 'Crispin, I wondered if we could have a round of golf some time. Daddy's been teaching me and I'm quite good. I .. .'

  'What a good ideal We'll have to arrange a day.

  Tressy does play, doesn't she? I know Michel does.' 'Oh, but I .. .'

  'Where is Tressy, by the way? I haven't said goodnight to her.'

  'I don't know.' Nora sounded sulky. 'I expect she's gone to bed. Cris, I .. .'

  He laughed easily. 'You're not going to shorten my name as well, are you?'

  'Oh no. I like Crispin,' she said fervently.

  'Thank you. See you tomorrow, then. You'll tell Tressy the time, won't you? And thank you again for a very pleasant evening.'

  Tressy heard the door shut behind him and then kept very quiet until Nora's footsteps went past and she could go safely up to bed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE day at Menton somehow got out of hand. It started off no differently from any other day; Cris picked them up at ten-thirty and they drove down to the harbour, where Michel had the boat all ready to go. Nora had stayed up until the end of the party and was tired, but was being over-bright to try to hide it, sitting in the front of the car next to Cris and determined to hold his attention, while Tressy lolled in the back with her feet up on the seat, hoping it would annoy him; but it only annoyed Nora. As they reached the harbour she turned round and exclaimed, 'Tressy! You'll ruin the upholstery. Take your feet off at once!'

  'So, he can afford to buy a new one, can't he?' Tressy retorted as she got out. She turned to Crispin. 'Why don't you get yourself an interesting car?'

  'You don't think a Rolls is interesting?'

  'Good heavens, no!' She made a disdainful gesture. 'They're two a penny in Monte Carlo.'

  'What, then, would you suggest?' He went round to take Nora's bags from the boot.

  'Why don't you get a sports car-a Ferrari or a Maserati? Something with some real power in the engine.'

  'A Rolls is pretty powerful.' 'But you never drive it fast.'

  'There does happen to be a speed limit on French roads, or hadn't you noticed?' He grinned and put a hand on her shoulder as they walked towards the boat. 'I should have known you were a speed merchant.'

  'But not,' Tressy replied coolly, trying to move away, 'a fast lady.'

  But he only gave a rich masculine laugh of genuine amusement and didn't let go her shoulder until he helped her, quite unnecessarily, across the gangplank.

  It was only a short distance by sea from Monte Carlo to Menton, passing the promontory of Cap Martin where Tressy could just make out the villa nestling among the trees. Once they were clear of all the vessels around the harbour, Cris handed over the wheel to Michel and came to join her in her usual place on the bow, his long frame stretched alongside her.

  'Why do you always sit up here?' he asked. 'I don't know. I like the breeze, I guess.'

  'Or is it because Nora has ordered you to keep out of the way?' he demanded roughly.

  'Why no, of course not.' She turned to quickly deny it just as the boat hit the wash of another vessel and she was thrown against him, her shoulder touching his bare chest. He immediately put his arms round her to steady her, and her heart gave a crazy kind of jump.

  The boat got
back on its usual even keel; but he didn't let her go. Instead his arms tightened and he said thickly, 'Tressy .. .'

  Looking up, she saw the dark fire in his eyes and quickly pulled free, turning so that her back was towards him. 'I come up here because I like to be alone,' she snapped.

  'Of course-I should have remembered how boring you find our company.' But he didn't sound at all put out. Lifting his hand, he began to trace the line of her spine with a long finger, over her bikini strap and on down.

  Tressy found she couldn't stand it and hastily turned on to her knees, facing him, 'Don't do that!'

  'Why not?' He was watching her with a strange look in his eyes, partly amused but something else she couldn't fathom.

  'Because I don't like it, of course. That's why not.' 'Don't you? Or is it that you're not as immune to me as you like to think you are?' he asked softly.

  Her heart began to thump again, but she answered coldly, 'You don't turn me on, if that's what you mean.'

  'No? Then why be in such a hurry to move away?' 'Because I don't like being-touched.'

  His lids were half closed against the sun so she couldn't read his reaction, but he merely said lazily, 'What a rag-bag of emotions you are! Somebody ought to give you a good shake to get everything back into perspective again. What have you got against men, anyway?'

  'What makes you think I have?' She relaxed a little and sat back as he made no further move to touch her. 'It stands out a mile. Somewhere along the line you've been hurt, and you're building a wall around yourself that has "Keep Out" signs all over it.'

  'So why don't you read the signs?'

  He grinned. 'Oh, I could never resist a challenge.' Tressy could willingly have hit him. Blue eyes flashing, she said with bitter anger, 'You like playing games with people, don't you? You find it amusing to be the puppet-master and to manipulate people. But you needn't think you can use me as a pawn, because I ... ' She broke off as Cris suddenly sat up and caught hold of her arms, gripping tightly.

  'I am not playing any kind of a game,' he told her forcefully. 'Especially not with you.'

  He went on to say something else, but his words were lost as the hooter just above their heads sounded its imperious warning. Tressy nearly jumped out of her skin and Cris looked quickly round to see that a sailing dinghy was in difficulties just ahead of them, its mast trailing in the sea. He ran aft to take over the wheel and they stopped until they'd made sure that everything was okay before going on again. They were almost at Menton harbour now, so Crispin stayed at the helm until they were safely moored.

  Menton was at least a hundred years behind its more prosperous neighbor but was very picturesque, retaining its narrow cobbled streets between high old buildings that climbed up the steep sides of a hill on which perched the cathedral with its ornate, pink-stone tower. There were square doorways surrounded by tubs and hanging baskets of flowers, and mysterious little alleyways with flights of steps that disappeared into dark shadows. There was a peace and sense of antiquity that was completely remote from the modern brashness and hurry of Monte Carlo.

  They had a drink in a cafe on the waterfront before setting out to explore, strolling through the market where colourful fruit and vegetable stalls were next to slabs where the eyes of fish, of a sort you had never imagined could exist, stared at you as you passed. The four of them strolled on, stopping now and again to look at the view as they climbed the branching double staircase to the Cathedral square.

  'They hold concerts out here now and again,' Cris remarked. 'We'll have to come to one.'

  'Oh, yes, please!' Nora enthused. Then she caught sight of a sign over an open doorway. 'Look, a craft shop. Let's go inside.' She glanced at Cris as if asking permission and he nodded and moved to follow her.

  Tressy didn't bother to go in; it wasn't that she disliked such shops, but Nora was always going into them, and you could have too much of a good thing, especially when you could never afford to buy anything. So she wandered over to look at the view of rich red and orange pan tiled roofs below her and then, irresistibly drawn, began to wander up one of the narrow alleyways. After a couple of minutes Crispin joined her and pointed out a wooden balcony attached high up on the wall of one of the houses like a house martin’s nest.

  'There's quite an interesting cemetery at the top of the hill here,' he told her, and led her rOlmd the corner into another alley.

  Tressy hesitated for a moment. 'Where's Nora?' 'She's buying something; they'll catch us up,' Cris assured her, so she went with him.

  The cemetery was shaded by dark cypress trees and seemed to be perched right on the edge of the hill behind the old town.

  'Good heavens!' she exclaimed. 'I hope they don't have any landslides here, or you might find your dead relation back in the house with you!'

  Cris shook with laughter. 'What a ghastly thought!' He drew her over to a wooden seat set in the shade of a thick tree and they sat down. 'Don't you find cemeteries depressing?'

  'Not particularly.' Tressy shook her head. 'Not when the sun is shining. There's a very old one quite near where we live in London. It's been full up for years and is terribly overgrown, so it's full of birds and butterflies in the summer.'

  'And you go there often?'

  'Sometimes. When the house gets too claustrophobic. '

  'Are you from a large family?' he asked. 'No, there's just my mother and me.' 'Is your father dead?'

  'I don't .. .' She stopped, realizing where his questions were heading. 'Where are the others?' She stood up and would have moved away, but he caught her hand.

  'They'll find us. Sit down in the shade again.' Slowly she obeyed him, but he didn't let go of her hand, looking down at it as if he found it absorbing. 'What would you like to do this afternoon? There's a windsurfing school here. You haven't tried that yet, have you?'

  'No, but I'd like to,' she said enthusiastically, forgetting for the moment where her hand lay. 'But what about Nora? She might not be very keen.'

  'But you want to, so we'll do it.' And turning her hand, he bent his head to kiss her palm.

  Tressy stared at him, lips parted in surprise, so he leant forward and kissed them, too--a gentle, undemanding kiss that lasted only a few seconds. But it was enough to make her move away nervously. 'Nora will be looking for us.'

  They walked back the way they'd come, but there was no sign of the others. 'Perhaps they've gone back to the boat,' said Tressy.

  'I doubt it.' Cris shook his head. 'We must have missed them somewhere.' He glanced at his watch. 'It's almost one. I suggest we find somewhere to have some lunch.'

  'We ought to find them,' Tressy insisted.

  'Why?' His voice was taunting. 'What are you afraid of? That you're not chaperoning Nora-or that she isn't here to chaperone you?'

  Her chin came up. 'I don't need a chaperone!' 'Good. Then let's go and eat.'

  They found a restaurant near the beach where they sat outside under a large parasol and ate bouillabaisse, which Tressy had never had before and Cris insisted she try.

  'Do you like it?' he asked.

  'Mmm, it's delicious. It's all different kinds of fish, isn't it?'

  'That's right. It's a specialty of the Mediterranean region.' He poured wine into their glasses and lifted his in a silent toast, but his eyes had that strange look again.

  The food and the wine were good and the sun was hot on her back through the thin material of her sundress, but Tressy couldn't relax. He was sitting opposite her, but it was a small table and he was too close. Sometimes their bare legs touched under the table or their hands would brush. And she hadn't expected to be alone with him like this. She tried to keep her voice steady and to listen attentively when he talked, but she found herself forgetting to eat and her eyes strayed to his mouth and the clean-cut line of his jaw. He had very strong shoulders and his tan was much darker than hers, his skin a deep glistening brown. There weren't any hairs on the flat planes of his chest, and she was glad, she didn't like hairy men. His arms were hard
and muscular, belying the sensitiveness of his hands.

  She became aware that he was no longer speaking and slowly looked up. As she feared, he had caught her out, his mouth twisting in amusement as she flushed. Putting out his hand, he covered hers as it lay on the table. 'Come on,' he said softly.

  After paying the bill, he led her across to the nearby private beach where he hired a couple of wooden loungers with thick mattresses, positioning them close together. Tressy stepped out of her sandals and pulled her sundress over her head, then put up her hands to lift the weight of hair off the back of her neck, twisting it into a plait which she tied with a ribbon.