Spirit Of Atlantis

There was a brief pause while Julie’s green eyes stared in troubled fascination into his, and then with panic quickening her limbs she struck out blindly for the shore. It was useless, she told herself, she could not have an ordinary conversation with him. He persisted in turning every innocent remark into something personal, and her inexperience in these matters made her an easy target. She should have known he would not let her be. He was a predator, and right now she was his prey. And like all hunters, the harder the chase, the more satisfying the kill.

Her feet found the stony lake shore, and she waded up out of the water on slightly wobbly legs. The exertion had been all the more tiring because of her awareness of him behind her, and the fear that at any moment he might grab her flailing feet. However, she made it unscathed, though as she groped for her towel she heard him emerge from the water behind her.

Squeezing the excess moisture from her hair, she tried to ignore him, but he walked across the shingle and sprawled lazily on a flat rock. Almost compulsively, her eyes were drawn to him, and his lips curved in amusement at that involuntary appraisal. It was obvious from the apprehensiveness of her darting glance that she had expected the worst, but to her relief she saw he was wearing thin navy shorts, and although they left little to her imagination, he was decently covered.

‘You didn’t really think I’d do that, did you?’ he enquired, propping himself up on one elbow and regarding her bikini-clad figure quizzically.

‘Do what?’ Julie was evasive, towelling her hair with more effort than skill, wondering if she could wriggle into her shorts without making a spectacle of herself.

‘Swim in the raw,’ Dan answered bluntly, knowing full well she was not unaware of his meaning. ‘I wouldn’t want to embarrass you a second time.’

‘You didn’t embarrass me, Mr Prescott,’ Julie retorted, not altogether truthfully, deciding the shorts would have to wait until she had gained the privacy of the trees. ‘Goodbye!’

‘Julie …’ With a lithe movement, he sprang off the rocks and caught her arm as she bent to pick up her belongings. ‘Julie, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but for heaven’s sake, what’s a guy got to do to make it with you?’

Julie gathered her towel and shorts to her chest almost as if they were a shield, and avoided looking up at him. ‘Mr Prescott, I don’t know the kind of girls you are used to associating with, but men don’t—make it with me, as you so crudely put it. Just because you’re apparently accustomed to every girl you meet falling flat on her face when you show an interest in them, don’t—’

‘Why not flat on their backs?’ he interrupted her harshly. ‘That would facilitate matters, wouldn’t it?’ and her breathing quickened to a suffocating pace.

‘As I said, you’re—’

‘Forget it!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t know why I came here.’

‘Because you can’t bear to think you’re not irresistible!’ Julie retorted recklessly, and then quivered uncontrollably as he tore the towel and shorts from her fingers and jerked her towards him.

When he bent his head towards her, she had no hope of avoiding him and although she turned her head from side to side, he found her mouth with unerring accuracy, fastening his lips to hers and taking his fill of her honeyed softness. His damp body was an aggressive barrier to any escape she might attempt to make, and try as she might, she could not prevent the awareness of her breasts hardening against the forceful expanse of his chest.

It was impossible, too, to prevent him from parting her lips. Choking for breath, she gulped for air against his mouth, but the invasion of his lips robbed her of all opposition. He was devouring her, hungrily teaching her the meaning of the adult emotions he was arousing, and as her lips began to kiss him back, the pressure eased to a paralysing sweetness. His hands released her arms to slide across her back, and her legs trembled as he pressed her body into his. She could feel him with every nerve and sinew of her being, and the growing awareness of what was happening to him made her acutely aware of the fragile barrier between herself and his thrusting masculinity.

He released her mouth to seek the hollow behind her ear, kissing her earlobe and her neck, brushing her hair aside to stroke the sensitive curve of her nape with his tongue. Julie knew she ought to draw back, that this was her opportunity to get away from him, but she was consumed by the urgency of her own emotions, and too aroused to think sensibly about anything.

The bra of her bikini slackened as he released the clip, and a silent protest rose inside her as his fingers found the rose-tipped mounds that no man had ever seen before, let alone touched.

‘Don’t …’ he said, as her hands sought to obstruct him. ‘Don’t stop me. Oh, Julie, you’re beautiful!’

‘Am I?’

Her breath came in little gasps and his mouth curved in sensuous approval. ‘You know it,’ he groaned, his lips against her creamy flesh. ‘Oh, God, what am I going to do about you?’

‘Do about me?’ she echoed confusedly, but his mouth covered hers once again, silencing any further speculation. The urgency of his caress drove all coherent thought from her head, and soft arms wound around his neck in eager submission.

Her convent upbringing had not prepared her for this, or for the unexpected sensuality of her own nature, and her instinctive response was all the more unrestrained because of it. She was warm and soft and responsive, her silky body yielding to his with innocent fervour, and Dan almost lost his own grip on sanity as he continued to hold her. She was so completely desirable, so eminently responsive to his every overture, and the urge to lay her on the rocks and submerge himself in her honeyed softness was almost overpowering. He doubted she would oppose him. She was all melting passion in his arms. But if he had been overwhelmed by her artless submission, he was still rational enough to realise that she was not entirely aware of what she was inviting. He could imagine her reaction when she came to her senses, and she would resent him bitterly if he took advantage of her innocence.

For all that, it was incredibly difficult to resist her, and a groan was forced from him as he compelled her away. Then, avoiding her look of hurt bewilderment, he bent and picked up her towel, pressing it into her fingers with a rough insensitivity.

Julie was mortified, as much by the awareness of her own wanton behaviour as by the realisation that he had given her the towel to cover her nakedness. He had taken advantage of her, and she had encouraged him, and what was more humiliating, he had rejected her.

‘I’m sorry.’ His apology came strangely to her ears, and her averted gaze turned blindly from the shocked realisation that he was no less aroused than before. ‘But—well, I guess I lost my head,’ he muttered half reluctantly, ‘and I guess you did too.’

Julie licked her dry lips. ‘Lost your head?’ she echoed, as his meaning became clear to her. ‘But I wouldn’t—’

‘Yes, you would,’ he retorted harshly. ‘We’re not children, Julie, and you know I want you. However, aside from other considerations, I don’t honestly know what you want.’

Julie blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying to her. It appeared she was wrong. He had not rejected her because of any inadequacy of her part. He had actually considered the possibility, but because he was more experienced, he had dismissed the idea. There was something horribly cold-blooded about the whole affair, and her head moved helplessly from side to side as she bent to retrieve her discarded bra.

‘Julie!’ He was speaking to her again, but she refused to answer him. She just wanted to get away, the farther away the better, and she struggled wildly when he endeavoured to detain her. ‘Julie!’ he said again, more forcefully this time. ‘Julie, listen to me! When am I going to see you again? Today? Tonight? When?’

‘Never, I hope,’ she choked, throwing back her head, her hair cascading damply about her shoulders. ‘Just let me go—’

‘No, I won’t.’ He thrust his impatient face close to hers. ‘You’re not being sensible, Julie, and I don’t intend to let you go until you are!’

‘I’ll scream—’

‘In that state?’ His mocking eyes flicked the slipping ends of the towel and her face suffused with colour. But all the humour had left his expression, and he was deadly serious as he said: ‘Okay, you want the truth, you got it. When I’m with you, I can’t think sanely.’ His eyes burned above her. ‘But unlike you, I accept that people have feelings, and I didn’t want to hurt you.’

Julie faltered. ‘To—hurt me?’

‘Yes, damn you,’ he muttered, unable to prevent himself from pulling her to him again. ‘There,’ he added hoarsely, ‘now tell me you don’t know what I’m feeling—you’re not that naïve. But I do know you’ve never been with a man before, even if you do learn fast.’

Julie’s tongue appeared in unknowing provocation. ‘I—I don’t understand …’

‘Don’t you?’ His hands slipped possessively around her waist, hard and warm against the cooler skin of her hips. ‘Could you have stopped me? Honestly?’ He bent his head to her shoulder, his teeth gently massaging the soft flesh. ‘But wouldn’t you have hated me if I had?’

Julie’s face burned. ‘You shouldn’t say such things!’

‘Why not?’ Dan lifted his head to gaze intently down at her. ‘It’s a fact.’

Julie drew an uneven breath. ‘Let me go, Dan.’

Her husky request brought a faint smile to his lips. ‘At last,’ he murmured. ‘I wondered what I’d have to do to get you to say my name.’

‘Dan, please …’

Julie pressed her hands determinedly against his chest, but the hair-roughened skin was absurdly sensuous against her palms, and she stood there helpless in the grip of emotions she scarcely knew or understood.

‘Tonight,’ he said, his breath fanning her cheek as he bent towards her. ‘Have dinner with me, on the yacht. We can serve ourselves—just the two of us.’

‘I can’t.’

The denial sprang automatically to her lips, and his mouth turned down at the comers. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t.’ Julie freed herself from him without too much difficulty, and quickly slipped her arms into the bra, fastening the clip with trembling fingers. Then, gathering up her shorts and the towel, she turned back to him. ‘G-goodbye.’

If she had expected him to object as he had done before, she was disappointed. With a weary shrug of his shoulders he bent to pick up his own pants, and thrust his legs into them without giving her another glance. It was as if he had grown bored with the whole exchange, and as on that evening at the hotel, he had abandoned the struggle.

Conversely, Julie was left feeling strangely bereft, and stepping into her sandals she made her way across the shingle with a distinct sense of deprivation.

The feeling had not left her by the time she reached the hotel, but in the sanctuary of her cabin she faced the fact that she had probably had the most lucky escape ever. As her blood cooled, reaction set in, and she sank down on to the bed trembling at the realisation of how near she had come to losing all respect for herself and betraying Adam’s trust in her. She didn’t know what had come over her, and for someone who for so long had regarded herself as immune from the kind of behaviour gossiped about in the dormitory after lights-out, it was doubly humiliating. She would never have thought she might have reason to be grateful to Dan Prescott, but she was, albeit that gratitude was tinged with anxiety. How long could she trust a man like him, she wondered uneasily, and how long could she trust herself if he persisted in pursuing her?