Steven, drawing me closer to him.
Then as the lantern glow of a night policeman approached us from the direction of the church, Steven's house offered shelter. Inside we went, and in the large, dark entrance hallway I let my hood fall back with a sigh of relief.
'Very attractive, I must say.' He was looking at me after having lit the lamp beside the sofa in the parlor. From where I stood, his face appeared softer now than it had seemed that afternoon. Oddly enough, he looked older, too. Still his eyes had that same faintly mocking glint, and there was still that little half-smile when he spoke.
'You weren't meant to see me this well,' I said. 'I don't know how you managed to get me here. I only agreed to a few moments of talk in the garden.'
I tried to sound firm. I had missed his lovemaking. We had not been together that way since February. But I did not want to let myself go, especially when we had been quarreling about marriage. Somehow what had seemed so beautiful and innocent before had taken on serious, even threatening, overtones. I could not afford to lose control, or I might find myself making promises I could not keep . . .
'Ah, well, then,' he was saying, 'shall I turn down the light? You can pretend that we're still outdoors.'
'I think not,' I said, coming into the parlor, 'definitely not.' I stood beside the sofa and looked around. This was the first time I had been inside Steven's mansion. The room was enormous. Our shadows from the light were gigantic on the high ceiling. Yet the room, apart from the long sofa and two upholstered chairs over here by the unlit fireplace, was totally bare of furniture or decoration. The enormous, thick Oriental rug stretched out along the floor in all directions, empty until it disappeared into the shadows along the empty walls.
'Most people find it odd at first,' Steven said as though he had read my thoughts. 'But I have no need for more furniture. Actually, I like it better this way.' He was wearing a loose-fitting shirt of dark blue silk that was tucked into the wide waistband of his tight-fitting grey trousers.
He crossed over to the mantel, where there were some bottles and glasses. 'Some wine? As long as I brought you here, I can at least play the generous host.'
'I don't think I'll stay that long,' I said.
'Suit yourself.' He came back with two filled goblets, anyway, sipping from one of them. 'More for me, that's all. You're welcome to stay, or you can go when you like. No one's going to know when you leave. The cook's away for a week and I have no other servants.'
He sat down on the sofa and stretched out his legs. His black boots glistened in the lamplight.
'You know, Brad was a bit distressed tonight. When I told him Sam Rawlings's daughter had seen what he was doing this afternoon, he ... ah ... he took it badly, you might say. Seemed to think that you'd take the story straight to your father.'
He waited, looking at me quietly.
'Well, I didn't,' I said. 'Even when Father found out that I'd seen you today, I didn't. Even when he said he would kill you if he saw us together, I didn't.'
Steven raised one eyebrow and sat up a bit straighter. 'In that case, I'm just as happy he didn't notice us in his garden tonight. That pistol of his might have been all too convenient.'
'Are you afraid of him?'
He nodded, but without losing a bit of his composure. 'I'd be a fool to say I wasn't. Sam Rawlings has a bad, bad temper, and he has the town's law in his back pocket. Why do you think Brad didn't go to the police when he caught that man spiking his logs? But we won't talk about that business any further.'
He swirled his wine and looked at it for a moment. 'I said this afternoon that I didn't want those two dragging us down with them.'
His eyes met mine. And then the warmth of desire I felt for him earlier now suddenly returned. I wanted to touch him. My body ached with a longing to be
Then as the lantern glow of a night policeman approached us from the direction of the church, Steven's house offered shelter. Inside we went, and in the large, dark entrance hallway I let my hood fall back with a sigh of relief.
'Very attractive, I must say.' He was looking at me after having lit the lamp beside the sofa in the parlor. From where I stood, his face appeared softer now than it had seemed that afternoon. Oddly enough, he looked older, too. Still his eyes had that same faintly mocking glint, and there was still that little half-smile when he spoke.
'You weren't meant to see me this well,' I said. 'I don't know how you managed to get me here. I only agreed to a few moments of talk in the garden.'
I tried to sound firm. I had missed his lovemaking. We had not been together that way since February. But I did not want to let myself go, especially when we had been quarreling about marriage. Somehow what had seemed so beautiful and innocent before had taken on serious, even threatening, overtones. I could not afford to lose control, or I might find myself making promises I could not keep . . .
'Ah, well, then,' he was saying, 'shall I turn down the light? You can pretend that we're still outdoors.'
'I think not,' I said, coming into the parlor, 'definitely not.' I stood beside the sofa and looked around. This was the first time I had been inside Steven's mansion. The room was enormous. Our shadows from the light were gigantic on the high ceiling. Yet the room, apart from the long sofa and two upholstered chairs over here by the unlit fireplace, was totally bare of furniture or decoration. The enormous, thick Oriental rug stretched out along the floor in all directions, empty until it disappeared into the shadows along the empty walls.
'Most people find it odd at first,' Steven said as though he had read my thoughts. 'But I have no need for more furniture. Actually, I like it better this way.' He was wearing a loose-fitting shirt of dark blue silk that was tucked into the wide waistband of his tight-fitting grey trousers.
He crossed over to the mantel, where there were some bottles and glasses. 'Some wine? As long as I brought you here, I can at least play the generous host.'
'I don't think I'll stay that long,' I said.
'Suit yourself.' He came back with two filled goblets, anyway, sipping from one of them. 'More for me, that's all. You're welcome to stay, or you can go when you like. No one's going to know when you leave. The cook's away for a week and I have no other servants.'
He sat down on the sofa and stretched out his legs. His black boots glistened in the lamplight.
'You know, Brad was a bit distressed tonight. When I told him Sam Rawlings's daughter had seen what he was doing this afternoon, he ... ah ... he took it badly, you might say. Seemed to think that you'd take the story straight to your father.'
He waited, looking at me quietly.
'Well, I didn't,' I said. 'Even when Father found out that I'd seen you today, I didn't. Even when he said he would kill you if he saw us together, I didn't.'
Steven raised one eyebrow and sat up a bit straighter. 'In that case, I'm just as happy he didn't notice us in his garden tonight. That pistol of his might have been all too convenient.'
'Are you afraid of him?'
He nodded, but without losing a bit of his composure. 'I'd be a fool to say I wasn't. Sam Rawlings has a bad, bad temper, and he has the town's law in his back pocket. Why do you think Brad didn't go to the police when he caught that man spiking his logs? But we won't talk about that business any further.'
He swirled his wine and looked at it for a moment. 'I said this afternoon that I didn't want those two dragging us down with them.'
His eyes met mine. And then the warmth of desire I felt for him earlier now suddenly returned. I wanted to touch him. My body ached with a longing to be
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