Serpent in Paradise Read online

  'Can you be ready in half an hour?'

  'Of course.'

  Ready for what? Where were they going? And what should she wear? Questions that might have been answered if Sloan had told her what he intended.

  Jessie, a radiant Jessie today, took Jill down to the kitchen for her breakfast. Perplexed, Teri stood before her wardrobe, and wondered why any encounter with Sloan always made her uncertain what to wear. The primrose sundress with the narrow shoulder-straps and pleated skirt was probably unsuitable. She decided to wear it nevertheless.

  In the sun-room she found Emma talking to Sloan. 'I shouldn't be leaving Jill like this,' said Teri.

  'I'll be with her, and Jessie is her devoted shadow.'

  'Running out of excuses?' Sloan's eyes held a glimmer of wicked amusement. He studied her lazily, but she knew he missed no detail of her appearance— the dress which showed her slenderly curved figure to its best advantage, the bare legs in the dainty sandals; the newly-washed hair which she had loosened from its snood and which now hung soft and shining around her face.

  Teri wished she could stop the colour from surging to her cheeks. 'I wasn't making an excuse.'

  'Of course you weren't,' said Emma, smiling as she walked with them to the door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Outside the house a car was waiting, the sleek silver vehicle which brought memory flooding back each time Teri saw it. As Sloan started the car along the oak-lined avenue of Vins Doux, Teri was aware of a familiar ripple of awareness. He still had not told her where they were going, and she had not asked. Her eyes were turned to the window, but all she saw was Sloan. He was in her eyes, in her mind, in her heart. She did not need to look at him, for he was clear in every part of her being. As he always would be. Long after she had left Vins Doux. Perhaps for ever.

  They came to the main road, and to her surprise Sloan did not turn in the direction of Cape Town, the only direction which she knew thus far. He took the opposite turn instead. They had not gone far when he turned again, on to a road not unlike the one that led to Vins Doux. And now Teri could no longer contain her curiosity.

  'We're going to visit someone?'

  The face that turned to her was amused. 'Wait and see.'

  The road widened at the approach to a pair of white gates set in a stone wall. Over the gates, in wrought iron letters, was the name 'Bienvenue'.

  'The name rings a bell.' Teri's brow wrinkled. 'Oh, I have it. The wine we had that first evening… Emma's favourite. It was bottled here?'

  'Right.'

  'It's a lovely name. Bienvenue—welcome.'

  'Which you are,' said Sloan.

  Teri did not know why her breathing quickened a little as they passed through the gates and started down another long avenue. Anticipation stirred along her spine together with a slight feeling of dread. She knew suddenly that Sloan had brought her here for a very particular reason.

  Bienvenue was indeed a wine estate. Teri soon realised that it was even vaster than Vins Doux, even more impressive, though she would not have believed such a thing could be possible. It was as if the vines here had an extra bloom, as if the bunches of grapes were even more lushly inviting.

  Her breath jerked in her throat as they rounded a bend and a house came suddenly into sight. At the same moment the car slowed.

  'Well?' There was an odd note in Sloan's voice.

  'It's fantastic!'

  Dimly she remembered reacting this way when she had seen Vins Doux the first time. Nearly she said, 'It's even more beautiful than Vins Doux,' but she stopped herself in time, for the words would have been in some way disloyal.

  And yet the house was in some way even more beautiful. Like Vins Doux, its architecture was Cape Dutch. The curved gables were there, the white walls and the wooden windows. But it seemed to have an extra graciousness, an extra splendour.

  'Who lives here?' Teri wanted to ask as Sloan started the car once more and drove further. One look at his face changed her mind. She could see only his profile, but she sensed a tautness that had not been there before, and she kept silent. In good time she would discover why he had brought her here.

  A neatly-dressed woman—the housekeeper, Teri guessed—was watering a gardenia in a big earthenware trough at the foot of the steps. She looked up as the car drew up, and when they had got out, she said, 'Two phone calls while you were out, Mr Sloan.'

  Teri felt the colour drain from her cheeks. It took every ounce of strength she possessed to control her features as the man at her side said, 'You can tell me about them later. Teri, I want you to meet Letitia. Letitia, this is Miss Malloy.'

  Letitia acknowledged the introduction politely, but her eyes held a veiled look of curiosity. 'The tea is ready. Shall I bring it to the rose-garden?' she asked.

  'Thank you.' Sloan put a hand under Teri's elbow as the housekeeper walked away. 'Tea first, it seems. You can see the house later.'

  Teri maintained her numb composure until she was sure they were out of earshot, and then she turned on him. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

  He shrugged. 'You never asked.'

  'You let me think you lived at Vins Doux.'

  'I don't recall ever having said so.'

  It was hard to think when the fingers on her elbow moved slightly to caress the silken skin of her inner arm. 'I believed you had quarters somewhere on the property. And Emma never told me…'

  She bit her lip and fell silent. There were things Emma had never told Sloan either. She had kept a secret for Teri. What was it she had said? 'I'm good at keeping secrets…' And there had been laughter in' her eyes.

  The rose-garden was a little way from the house. The roses were in bloom, a glorious profusion of reds and yellows and whites. Sloan stopped and lightly touched the petals of a salmon-coloured bloom. 'One of my newest.'

  An unusual rose, and very beautiful, but Teri's mind was on other things. 'Sloan.' She took a breath before plunging into the question to which she sensed the answer—and hoped she was wrong. 'Are you employed at Bienvenue too?'

  There was a hint of humour in the eyes that met hers. 'No.'

  'You can't mean… You don't own Bienvenue?'

  'As a matter of fact I do.' A hand lifted to her cheek, curving around it. 'Do you mind?'

  The sensuousness of the touch made her tremble. Teri forced herself to stand very still. 'Why should I mind?' she asked lightly.

  Why indeed? What with Miranda, and his dislike of Teri herself, until this moment Sloan had seemed inaccessible enough. This latest turn of events had removed him so far from her orbit that he might as well have his home on another planet.

  Letitia arrived with the tea-tray, and Teri was glad of the distraction. 'Why don't you do the honours?' Sloan suggested.

  The tea-set was silver, antique and beautifully wrought, and the cups were of a porcelain so delicate that Teri thought a careless flick of a finger might break them. She was glad she had left Jill at Vins Doux.

  'Do you know,' Sloan remarked softly, 'you look just right pouring that tea.'

  'Nothing to it.' Teri's smile hid the ache in her heart. She felt right, pouring the tea, handing Sloan his cup. Felt that she could happily perform the same task over and over again through the years. She was not so naive that she did not understand the picture that had come, almost of itself, into her mind. And she was intelligent enough to know that the sooner she pushed it from her, the better. Today was a once-only event, a cameo that she would keep in her memory. It was Miranda who would pour the tea on all those other days that stretched into the future. Miranda who would share Sloan's thoughts and dreams. Who would lie in one bed with him and glory in his lovemaking…

  Teri gave an involuntary shake of the head as she thrust the thought from her. A thought that was too painful to endure.

  'That was emphatic,' she heard the bubble of laughter in Sloan's throat. 'Care to share the joke?'

  'It wasn't a joke.' Her voice was low. So close was she to tears at this moment that any pretence of
casualness was beyond her.

  'Teri?'

  'Why did you bring me here?'

  His eyes grew serious. 'You seemed to think I had no right to warn you about Bruce. You implied that I too was just out to get what I could.'

  'I didn't know…'

  'How could you?'

  Virginia or Bruce could have mentioned Sloan's status, but perhaps they had assumed that she knew it. Emma could have enlightened her—but Emma, it seemed, had had her reasons for keeping silent.

  She looked around her. The rose-garden was on a high piece of ground. Sloping away from it on three sides were the vineyards, a vista of shimmering purple and gold beneath the midday sun.

  'Why do you want a share of Vins Doux?' She made a gesture. 'You have so much land of your own.' She looked at him, wondering if she had transgressed the bounds of politeness, yet needing an answer all the same. 'You can't need any more?'

  'I don't need it. Bienvenue is not the only property I own, Teri. I never wanted even a part of Vins Doux.'

  'Then why?'

  'Have you ever seen,' he asked slowly, 'what happens to a place when the wrong people gain control? People who don't know what it is to work. Who are only interested in quick profits, and who put back nothing in return? The most valuable estates can be ruined in the time it takes to buy a fancy yacht and a few expensive cars.'

  'You think that's what would happen to Vins Doux with Bruce and Virginia in control. And with me, of course.' The last words were an afterthought, quickly added, for Sloan could not know that she had decided not to accept her share of the vineyards—unless Emma had talked, which seemed unlikely.

  'Exactly.' His lips were set in a grim line. 'I've been looking after Vins Doux since Jonathan Roland died.'

  'That's why Emma has given you a share?'

  'Right again. I don't need it, Teri, but the place means a great deal to me. Almost as much as Bienvenue. I accepted because it's the only way I can ensure that Vins Doux will not be ruined by ignorance and greed.'

  A little lifelessly, Teri said, 'I see now why you brought me here today.'

  'There was another reason.' The inflection in his tone drew her eyes to him. 'I wanted you to see my home.'

  He was searching her face, the small sun-kissed nose and cheeks the lips that had opened willingly beneath his, and in his eyes was an expression that sent a surge of adrenalin pumping through Teri's system.

  She was all at once breathless. 'I'd like very much to see it.'

  Tea finished, they made their way to the house. Miranda's future home. I'm crazy to allow Sloan to show it to me, Teri thought as she walked beside him up the steps that led to a solid oak door. I'll be more miserable afterwards. I should tell him to take me back to Vins Doux now, before I go any further. Her step slowed, almost halted.

  'Teri?' Sloan was looking down at her. He was smiling, but in his eyes was something taut. His hand went to her waist, as if to urge her forwards. The tautness was in his hand too, Teri could feel it. And suddenly she herself felt taut. Without a word she walked on.

  From a gracious entrance hall, wood-panelled and with a glorious Persian carpet in shades of green and white and peacock-blue, Sloan led her to the lounge, the dining-room, the library. All the rooms were beautiful, as Teri had known they would be. As with the exterior, there was a similarity with Vins Doux, for the houses had been built around the same time. There were the polished oak floors and the furnishings were mostly antique. But there were differences too. The feeling that Bienvenue was a special place was reinforced. It was impossible for Teri to see everything. The best she could do was absorb the impression of tradition and elegance. On another visit she could take in details.

  The thought caught her up short. Would there be another visit? Unlikely. Sloan had brought her here today for a purpose. He had no reason to bring her again.

  The knowledge did not make it easier to focus on specifics. The tautness that had come over Teri on the steps of the homestead was with her still. Added to it was an awareness of Sloan, of the sexuality and maleness that seemed to accompany him wherever he went. He was close beside her and the air between them seemed alive with electricity. It buzzed in Teri's ears, if she put out a hand it would shock her. Surely Sloan must feel it too. She glanced up at him. If he was aware of the vibrancy in the air between them his expression did not reveal it. The strong face was as aloof and stern as she had seen it and for a moment Teri wondered if she had offended him in some way.

  Having seen the front part of the house, Teri was certain they would go back outside, back to Vins Doux. When Sloan took her into a corridor which could only lead to the bedroom wing, she looked up at him questioningly. The tautness she had glimpsed earlier had intensified, the hand on her wrist urged her on. All at once it was hard to breathe.

  She lost count of the bedrooms. She was only aware of the tightness inside her, and of an aching hunger which she tried to suppress and could not.

  It was with a feeling of inevitability that Teri watched Sloan open the last door. There was not even surprise as she went past him into a room that was all brown and gold. A room that was both elegant and masculine.

  'Your bedroom?' It was a question that needed no answer, and she wished she had not asked it, for the words had come out too jerkily.

  'Yes.'

  She turned, intending to go past him, back to the door—and found him blocking it.

  Her heart gave an uncomfortable leap in her chest. 'Sloan?'

  He closed the door, softly but firmly. 'Teri.'

  'It's a nice room.' Her voice was husky with betraying nervousness.

  'I'm so glad you like it,' he said politely.

  'Oh, I do. Shall we go on to the next room?'

  'This is the last.'

  'In that case I suppose it's time to go back to Vins Doux.'

  He made no move away from the door. He looked very tall, very powerful, as he stood before it, coiled and alert as a jungle animal on a hunt. An unfortunate analogy at this particular moment, Teri thought, and her heartbeat became more painful.

  Lifting her head and throwing him her most confident smile, she said, 'It really is time to go.'

  'I think not.'

  'You're playing with me, Sloan.'

  'I'd like to play with you,' was the soft response.

  A thrill of alarm ran through her as he took a step forward. The serpent, moving smoothly towards its victim. She took a quick step away, only to find the backs of her legs against the bed.

  'Definitely the right direction.' Laughter bubbled in his throat, husky and seductive.

  Putting up a hand—as if that could ward him off— she said, 'What do you want, Sloan?'

  'You know what I want, my dearest.'

  The endearment escaped her. She was only conscious of a longing that was greater than any she had ever experienced.

  'It's what you want too,' he said, taking another step towards her.

  Yes! I want you to kiss me, make love to me. God, how I want it!

  Aloud she said, 'No! Let me go, Sloan.'

  His eyes glittered. 'We have some unfinished business, you and I, Teri.'

  She stared at him. 'Business?'

  'A small matter of mud thrown at my car.'

  'Oh, that.'

  'That.'

  'We could… Couldn't we discuss it somewhere else?'

  'I think this is the perfect place.' He was so close to her now that she could feel the heat of his body through the small space of air that separated them. A hand cupped her chin, the fingers burning where they touched her throat. She felt as if she was suffocating.

  'Don't you agree?' he asked softly.

  'Yes—I mean no! Sloan, you're confusing me!'

  'Delightful!' The fingers moved, exploring the area beneath an ear, sending ripples of awareness down her spine. 'You always knew that one day there would be a settling.'

  She had known it. Deep inside her she had known it. Had known too that it would not be simple. With Sloan, i
t seemed, nothing was ever simple.

  'I could wash your car,' she suggested.

  'I have a gardener who does that for me.' His breath was warm as it fanned down to cheeks that were already hot. 'I could give you a spanking, but I don't spank women.' His hands cupped her head, burying themselves in her hair. 'I could make love to you.'

  'Sloan…'

  'Sloan, yes, make love to me—is that what you're saying?'

  Yes!

  'No, of course not. Sloan, I can't!'

  'Sloan, I can't,' he mimicked. With his hands still cupping her head he put her a little away from him, so that he could look into her eyes. 'You sound so innocent, Teri. Like a virgin.' His voice grew hard. 'The one thing you're not. You don't rebuff Bruce. And there's Jill's father. You've never wanted to discuss him.'

  She closed her eyes. 'I still don't.'

  She heard his small hissing intake of breath. Then he said, 'He's in the past anyway. This is what counts—the present. You and me, here, now. You put up a good pretence, Teri, but your body tells a different tale.'

  His lips were teasing, tantalising. They spread a trail across her face and throat, unerringly and erotically finding the most sensitive spots. With his tongue he traced the contours of her lips. By the time his mouth came down on hers she ached with longing. His kisses were passionate, demanding, evoking an answering response from her. Willingly she opened her mouth to his, exulting as he explored it.

  His arms were around her now, holding her close, and she could feel the long hard length of him; hard thighs and calves straining against her own soft legs, hard-muscled chest in which the heart beat the same frenzied rhythm as her own.

  This was how it had been in her dreams at night. This was how he had held her and kissed her. Except that the reality was more exciting than anything she had dreamed.

  The drugging kisses, the hands that moved on her back, curving around to cup her breasts, drove the last remnants of sanity from her being. Mindlessly she pressed towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck.