The Bride Of Santa Barbara. Angela Devine

propelled her firmly towards the door. ‘Well, if you won’t go to bed, at least lie down in the conservatory for a while. And take some fresh food from the kitchen with you. I’ll come and call you when the jacket’s done.’

      Beth stretched, feeling the ache in her shoulder and conscious of the sudden throbbing in her head. ‘All right, I think I will,’ she agreed.

      Ten minutes later she ambled wearily into the back of the house and uttered a soft exclamation of delight. The room covered the full width of the house and was illuminated by concealed lighting hidden among the plants. As Beth pressed the light switch, a soft golden glow filled the entire room, revealing a luxuriant jungle of plants. There were huge tubs of tuberous begonias, pink and white and yellow. Baskets filled with trailing blue lobelias hung from the ceiling and the walls were lined with thickets of mauve hydrangeas. Every gap was filled with the brilliantly coloured foliage of coleus plants, pink and yellow and amazing shades of burgundy. The air was heavy with the scent of lilies and somewhere she could hear the sound of running water. Investigating further, Beth found a little grotto tucked away in one corner looking almost like a natural rock pool with its delicate ferns and mosses and a fountain rippling into a pool filled with goldfish.

      ‘Oh, how nice,’ she breathed, sinking into a conveniently placed chaise-longue and pulling up a bamboo table. She had been too tired to make herself a fresh meal, but she drank some lemonade straight from a can and ate the remains of her chicken sandwich and the salad. A large slice of Black Forest cake made a delicious dessert and she was asleep even before she had finished licking the last smear of chocolate from her fingers. How long she slept she didn’t know, but she dreamt that Warren was lifting her and carrying her away, except that in the dream Warren was far stronger and more tender than he had ever been in real life. It was only when her bare legs brushed against a damp hydrangea, spilling a shower of cold droplets over her skin, that she came awake with a start and realised that it was not Warren who was holding her. It was Daniel Pryor. With a startled gasp she tried to struggle free.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘Put me down!’

      He did as she asked, but did not release her. His left arm remained tensed around her body, supporting her, and she could not help being disturbingly conscious of his nearness and warmth. Panic jolted through her and she tried urgently to twist away.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked in a puzzled voice. ‘Are you still dreaming? You look terrified.’

      His arm tightened around her.

      ‘No!’ she choked. ‘I’m not. I’m awake! It’s just that...’

      She paused and a shudder went through her. How could she possibly admit to herself, much less to him, that his mere presence was sheer torment to her? She inhaled sharply, feeling her senses swim at the spicy scent of his aftershave, mingled with the subtle aromas of the conservatory. Against the dark outlines of the plants his body seemed to loom over her, huge, primitive, vaguely threatening. And yet mysteriously she felt drawn to him so powerfully that her heart accelerated and her breathing grew fast and shallow. Her eyes dilated in alarm as he stepped towards her.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured soothingly. ‘You’ve just woken in a strange place and lost your bearings. But you’re quite safe. Trust me.’

      His hands moved up and gripped her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles until she gave a soft groan and relaxed under his touch. Swaying slightly, she let herself rest against him. It felt wonderful to rest her head against his chest and let go of all her exhaustion and worry. But that momentary weakness was her undoing. As her cheek brushed against his shirt, she heard him catch his breath. Sleepily she looked up at him and their eyes met. She saw that he was watching her with a passionate urgency that both thrilled and appalled her. His intense, searing scrutiny took her breath away and she dropped her gaze, but her entire body still seemed to throb with awareness of him. Dizzy with longing, she sensed the exact way that his chin was brushing against the top of her head, his breath was fanning her hair and his hard, warm chest was pressed against her cheek. He was taller than Warren and more powerfully built, with massive shoulders and lean, muscular thighs. Yet it wasn’t just his physique that set him apart from Warren, it was the air of power and authority that radiated out from him. Insanely, Beth wondered what it would be like to be kissed by a man like that. Darting him a fleeting, troubled glance, she tried half-heartedly to break away, and a moment later she had her answer.

      With a muffled oath he caught her against him, holding her so tightly that she could feel his furiously beating heart. Then his lips came down on hers with a passion that shocked and enthralled her. Never had she been kissed like this, and she responded as if she had been born for this moment. His kisses were violent and devouring, as if he wanted to possess her, body and soul. Yet they awoke an answering need deep inside her and she kissed him back with equal frenzy. Glorying in his arrogant male strength and power, she arched her back and swayed sinuously against him. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips parted in a quivering invitation. Flame seemed to leap through every cell of her body at his urgent, demanding touch. And when he hauled her against him so hard that she could not mistake his fierce masculine arousal she gave a soft whimper deep in her throat. With an answering groan, he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her sensually. Tremors of excitement prickled through her body as his lips travelled down the column of her throat in a trail of feather-light kisses. She shuddered, unable to bear the exquisite torment and yet wishing it would go on forever. In that moment their entire being seemed to melt and flow together in pure paradise.

      ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Daniel murmured hoarsely. ‘I feel I want to drown in your sweetness.’

      The words were like a dash of cold water in her face. Jerking herself free, Beth stepped back a pace. The memory of Greg with his honeyed tongue and dark, caressing eyes rose like a spectre to haunt her.

      ‘Leave me alone!’ she cried, backing away from him. ‘I’m not some gullible teenager to be taken in by a smooth line. Save your flattery for someone else!’

      And, turning blindly away, she made a rush for the door. He caught her before she reached it and seized her by the wrist. Not hard, but with enough force to make her miserably sure that he was in control.

      ‘What is this all about?’ he demanded, his dark eyebrows drawing into a threatening frown. ‘Would you mind telling me what’s going on?’

      Her breath came in fast, shallow gulps.

      ‘Nothing is going on!’ she hissed. ‘That’s the whole point. This should never have happened and, if you’ve any decency at all, you’ll act as if it didn’t. Please!’

      And with a desperate lunge she broke away from him and fled.

      CHAPTER THREE

      IF BETH hadn’t been so exhausted, she would have lain awake for hours worrying about what had happened in the conservatory. As it was, she simply crawled into bed and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but when she woke up the following morning she had an ominous feeling of misgiving, as if she were about to face final exams or a trip to the dentist. Pulling herself upright in the huge bed, she blinked around at the unfamiliar room and memory came hurtling back to her.

      ‘Oh, no,’ she groaned, sinking down under the covers. ‘What on earth have I done?’

      Her own behaviour the previous evening completely baffled her. She wasn’t in the habit of kissing strange men. In fact she had never even had a serious boyfriend apart from Warren. So how on earth had she found herself swept into that passionate embrace with Daniel Pryor? Had he simply taken advantage of her exhaustion and shock to kiss her against her will? She gave a low, bitter laugh. No, that wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been against her will, she had been entirely willing and that was what alarmed her most. She had always been reserved and serious by nature, so much so that the other students at technical college had nicknamed her the Ice Maiden. But there had been nothing cold about the way she had melted into Daniel’s embrace last night. Even thinking about it made a strange, tremulous warmth uncoil deep inside her.

      The