Read Online When the Devil Drives by Sara Craven - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sara Craven
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beyond, playing for time. As she leaned forward to replace the empty
cup on the tray, Cal's hand closed round her wrist. She sat motionless,
not looking at him, as his fingers stroked across the swelling mound
at the base of her thumb, then found the indentation of her soft palm,
and lingered.
It was the lightest of caresses, but she was as sharply aware of it as if
he'd kissed her on the mouth, or taken her breasts in his hands.
To her astonishment, she could feel some of her nervousness
beginning to ebb away under the gentleness of his touch.
She had fastened her hair up into a loose knot on top of her head, and
he reached up and began to take out the pins, very slowly and
carefully, until the whole shining mass was loose on her shoulders.
'Shake your head,' he directed softly, and she obeyed mutely.
Cal gave a low sigh of appreciation, twining a long blonde strand
round his fingers and carrying it to his lips.
'You don't have it cut,' he murmured. 'Not ever.'
She should have resented the proprietorial note in his voice, but oddly
it didn't seem to matter in this strange new euphoria which was
possessing her. This isn't me, she found herself thinking. This can't be
happening. Yet she didn't have the energy or the will to pull away
from him.
His hand slid under her hair, lifting it away from the nape of her neck,
and caressing the smooth skin there in a delicate circular movement.
It was her turn to sigh, arching her throat in a pleasure she couldn't
disguise. She felt weak, boneless, as languorous as a small kitten. The
cushions that supported her were clouds, and she was floating above
them.
Cal's fingers were still continuing their delicious massage, but
physically he seemed to have withdrawn to some great distance. She
stared at him, trying to focus.
'How do you do that?' she asked, her voice slurring a little. 'How can
you be so near, and miles away at the same time?'
'Is that how I seem?' She could tell he was smiling. 'I think, beauty,
it's time you went to bed.'
'Yes.' She let him take her hand and draw her, unresisting, to her feet.
His arm was round her, and she was glad to lean against him as she
walked, because the carpet was so thick, she was in danger of sinking
down into it.
She was vaguely aware of another room, and a door closing behind
her. More lamplight, and a blur of rust, royal blue and gold which,
when she peered more closely from beneath her leaden eyelids,
turned out to be an enormous bed.
'A king-size bed.' Her voice sounded wondering and far away. 'I've
never seen one before. Now that is nouveau riche.'
'Think so?' He was laughing. 'It's also very convenient for times like
this.'
She felt him drawing down the long zip at the back of her dress, and
couldn't lift a finger to stop him. A fate worse than death, she thought
dazedly. That was what they called what was happening to her, and
she was allowing it. Cal eased the dress from her shoulders, and she
felt the silky material glide down and pool round her feet.
He lifted her and carried her, and she turned into his arms like a child,
feeling the thud of his heart beneath her cheek. The bed was a cloud,
too, even softer than the sofa, and she sank into it gratefully,
eyelashes curling on her cheeks.
She could dimly sense his shadow, standing over her. There was
something she had to tell him, she thought, trying to grope her way
back to awareness from her state of drifting lassitude. Something
important that she needed to explain, to warn him about, but there
were so many shadows now that she couldn't tell which was
his—couldn't find him.
She lifted a wavering hand, while her lips attempted to frame his
name.
Cal, she thought, Cal. I've never called him that.
She tried desperately to speak the word, but the shadows were too
strong, too powerful, and they reached for her, overwhelming her,
drawing her down into their midst, where she was lost.
CHAPTER FOUR
JOANNA awoke from
beyond, playing for time. As she leaned forward to replace the empty
cup on the tray, Cal's hand closed round her wrist. She sat motionless,
not looking at him, as his fingers stroked across the swelling mound
at the base of her thumb, then found the indentation of her soft palm,
and lingered.
It was the lightest of caresses, but she was as sharply aware of it as if
he'd kissed her on the mouth, or taken her breasts in his hands.
To her astonishment, she could feel some of her nervousness
beginning to ebb away under the gentleness of his touch.
She had fastened her hair up into a loose knot on top of her head, and
he reached up and began to take out the pins, very slowly and
carefully, until the whole shining mass was loose on her shoulders.
'Shake your head,' he directed softly, and she obeyed mutely.
Cal gave a low sigh of appreciation, twining a long blonde strand
round his fingers and carrying it to his lips.
'You don't have it cut,' he murmured. 'Not ever.'
She should have resented the proprietorial note in his voice, but oddly
it didn't seem to matter in this strange new euphoria which was
possessing her. This isn't me, she found herself thinking. This can't be
happening. Yet she didn't have the energy or the will to pull away
from him.
His hand slid under her hair, lifting it away from the nape of her neck,
and caressing the smooth skin there in a delicate circular movement.
It was her turn to sigh, arching her throat in a pleasure she couldn't
disguise. She felt weak, boneless, as languorous as a small kitten. The
cushions that supported her were clouds, and she was floating above
them.
Cal's fingers were still continuing their delicious massage, but
physically he seemed to have withdrawn to some great distance. She
stared at him, trying to focus.
'How do you do that?' she asked, her voice slurring a little. 'How can
you be so near, and miles away at the same time?'
'Is that how I seem?' She could tell he was smiling. 'I think, beauty,
it's time you went to bed.'
'Yes.' She let him take her hand and draw her, unresisting, to her feet.
His arm was round her, and she was glad to lean against him as she
walked, because the carpet was so thick, she was in danger of sinking
down into it.
She was vaguely aware of another room, and a door closing behind
her. More lamplight, and a blur of rust, royal blue and gold which,
when she peered more closely from beneath her leaden eyelids,
turned out to be an enormous bed.
'A king-size bed.' Her voice sounded wondering and far away. 'I've
never seen one before. Now that is nouveau riche.'
'Think so?' He was laughing. 'It's also very convenient for times like
this.'
She felt him drawing down the long zip at the back of her dress, and
couldn't lift a finger to stop him. A fate worse than death, she thought
dazedly. That was what they called what was happening to her, and
she was allowing it. Cal eased the dress from her shoulders, and she
felt the silky material glide down and pool round her feet.
He lifted her and carried her, and she turned into his arms like a child,
feeling the thud of his heart beneath her cheek. The bed was a cloud,
too, even softer than the sofa, and she sank into it gratefully,
eyelashes curling on her cheeks.
She could dimly sense his shadow, standing over her. There was
something she had to tell him, she thought, trying to grope her way
back to awareness from her state of drifting lassitude. Something
important that she needed to explain, to warn him about, but there
were so many shadows now that she couldn't tell which was
his—couldn't find him.
She lifted a wavering hand, while her lips attempted to frame his
name.
Cal, she thought, Cal. I've never called him that.
She tried desperately to speak the word, but the shadows were too
strong, too powerful, and they reached for her, overwhelming her,
drawing her down into their midst, where she was lost.
CHAPTER FOUR
JOANNA awoke from
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