Taming Jason

‘You’re never real—always a dream in the end—’

‘Not this time,’ she said, wondering who he was talking about.

‘Tried to make it right—but I could never find you—’

‘There’s plenty of time to make it right,’ she assured him.

‘Too late—you vanished—’

‘You can tell me one day soon,’ Elinor told him gently.

He was lying still now, although his breathing was tortured and sweat stood out on his brow. She mopped it with a handkerchief that lay beside the bed, and the gesture seemed to calm him, although he still held onto her as if his life depended on it.

‘Don’t go,’ he murmured.

‘No, I won’t go, not while you need me.’

He reached out for her, finding his way up her arms to her neck, her face, stroking the hair that tumbled about his hands. The feel of it seemed to take him aback for he paused, wreathing his fingers in the soft locks, frowning.

Elinor took a sharp breath and drew away. Nursing him was one thing, but this kind of intimacy with her enemy wasn’t in the bargain. Slowly, trembling, she took hold of his hand, meaning to free her hair. But his hand was so thin, so lacking in strength, that she couldn’t bring herself to make a sudden movement.

He released her hair, but his fingers moved on, drifting across her face. She grew very tense as he reached the wide curve of her lips. There he stopped and lingered, as if caught in some spell. She held still, aghast at the sensations that his fingertips were sending through her.

They were warm, sweet feelings, delicious and forbidden. Her heart beat madly and she couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly a terrible fear possessed her. She didn’t know why she was afraid of this man who was virtually helpless, but the fear came out of nowhere, shaking her like a rag doll. It was connected with something she couldn’t remember—wouldn’t remember—and it left her shivering with shock. She must get out of here, now, this minute, but his tortured face seemed to hold her.

‘Why did you go?’ he whispered.

Scarcely knowing what she said, she replied, ‘I had to go. You know why.’

What had made her say that? The words had seemed to come of their own accord, but she’d known they were the right ones.

He sighed. ‘Yes, I know why. But if I could only—I wanted to—I tried—but it was too late. Don’t you see—it was too late?’

Without warning his clasp tightened, drawing her closer. Before she could stop him he’d pulled her right down, so that her lips were on his. She stiffened against him, while her mind rebelled with horror.

And with anger, too. Even now, while he was sick and sleeping, Jason Tenby simply took what he wanted, so deep rooted was his instinct to command, to possess.

‘Let me go,’ she insisted fiercely, struggling to free herself.

‘No—’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘You mustn’t go again. You might vanish back into the dark, and I couldn’t bear that. Stay with me—don’t condemn me to despair.’

She didn’t know how to answer. His words were mad, senseless. Yet they found a mysterious echo in her heart, and that was the most senseless thing of all. He wasn’t demanding now, but begging, and she couldn’t sustain her anger in the face of that anguished plea.