Master of Comus

'Nonsense,' she said faintly. The room was dizzily spinning around her as Paul carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He paused, holding her, looking down at her flushed and sleepy face.

'Two glasses of retsina are your limit, I suspect,' he said with amusement.

'I am not drunk,' she said with great dignity.

His face was very close, the blue eyes brilliant beneath their fair brows. 'No?'

His mouth brushed hers lightly, the teasing flick of a butterfly kiss. Invaded by a warm pleasure, Leonie closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his mouth again, but he bent and laid her on the bed instead.

She locked her arms around his neck. 'Paul,' she whispered invitingly. 'Kiss me goodnight...'

He hesitated, then slowly lowered his mouth. Their mouths clung, passion flaring between them. Paul lay down beside her and began to kiss her more intently, his mouth parting her lips and sending shivers of weak delight down her spine.

'Darling,' he whispered against her neck. 'Oh, darling ...' His hands wandered caressingly over her limp, relaxed limbs from breast to thigh while he kissed her mouth again then began to kiss her throat and shoulders. Leonie's eyes closed. She sighed once or twice, pleasurably.

Paul raised himself to look down at her, groaning. 'You shouldn't have drunk all that retsina. Have you forgotten we took a vow of non-consummation? Darling, I'm not made of stone. You're so sweet and desirable, and I...' He broke off abruptly at a sound from her. 'What the—? Leonie?' He peered closer, turning her head towards his eyes, then swore softly under his breath. 'Asleep! My God! I shall go out of my mind if this goes on...'

He lifted her heavy body with one arm while he stripped off her dress, then slid her under the sheet. She turned over in the bed so that her face burrowed into the pillow, her arms going up to clasp it confidingly. Paul touched the sleek black hair gently, then moved towards the stairs, a frustrated grimace on his face. Downstairs he stared at the unfinished retsina, then, with a groan, picked it up and drained it into a glass and swallowed it. Moments later silence fell over the whole house as they both slept.

Leonie woke next morning with a feeling of happy contentment. She had slept deeply all night, and she had a distinct impression that her dreams had been delightful ones, although she could not actually remember any of them.

She stretched, yawning, then stiffened as she realised she was only wearing her bra and pants.

Frowning, she sat up and looked round the room. Her dress was hung neatly over a chair. Yet she could not remember undressing last night. She thought back carefully. The last thing she could positively recall was dancing with Paul in the dark.

What had happened after that? She shuddered to imagine. Surely Paul would not have taken advantage of the fact that she had drunk too much?

She dressed in jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs. Paul was still asleep, rolled in the woven bedspread beside the fire, his honey-smooth blond hair just visible. Leonie went out to the stream with the coffee pot and a towel. After washing briskly, she hurried back and put the coffee on while she sliced some bread. While she was asleep yesterday, Paul had fed the hens and retrieved their eggs, so she decided to boil some of the eggs for breakfast. They were tiny brown speckled eggs and looked inviting when they were ready in their yellow eggcups. The coffee ready, the table laid, she went over to arouse Paul.

He did not move when she said his name, so she bent over him to rouse him and found herself being pulled down on top of him.

'Paul!' she spluttered crossly. 'Let me go!'

His lips sought hers, and weakly, hating herself, she yielded. Warm, friendly, undemanding, the kiss was certainly pleasant, but she was alarmed to consider the implications lying behind it. What exactly had happened last night? Obviously, something had taken place, or why should he believe his kiss would be accepted?

She pushed him away, sat up, irritably tidying her hair, which had become unravelled during their little tussle. 'Breakfast is ready. Why don't you go and wash?'

He grinned. 'I'll do that, honey. Don't start without me.'

She sat at the table, sipping her steaming coffee. Paul was back a few moments later, fully dressed, his face glowing from the cool stream water. He dropped a light kiss on her head as he passed.

'Good morning again, darling.'

'Don't call me that!' she snapped.

He slid a sidelong look at her, brows raised ironically. 'Sorry, I didn't know you objected.'

'I dislike the use of endearments except when they're sincerely meant.'

'What makes you think I'm not sincere?'

She regarded him drily. 'Need you ask?'

'Oh, my reputation! You're like the elephant, aren't you? You never forget.' Then a smile danced along his handsome mouth. 'Except under Very special circumstances.'

Hot colour burned in her cheeks. 'What happened last night?' she demanded huskily.

The blue eyes were amused. 'You don't remember?'