Climax of Passion

She felt the straining of his muscles, the tremor of need that rippled through him, the pounding of his heart, the endless thirst for her giving of herself to him. He had waited, restrained himself to breaking point, but now the floodgates of wanting were cast open and a torrent of desire swept all before it.

‘Does this make up your mind?’ he demanded hoarsely, his breathing as tortured as hers between kisses. ‘Tell me it does. Give yourself to me.’

‘Not here,’ she pleaded, her voice raw with her need for him, yet the thought of the crystals surrounding them—her father’s crystals—was abhorrent to her at a moment which should be clean of the past.

‘This is not the place for us,’ he agreed.

He swept her along wi

th him, Amanda’s feet barely touching the ground. He virtually carried her through the shimmering kaleidoscope of caves, back the way they had come, unerring in his sense of direction, urgency driving his every step.

Amanda was riven by her desire to go with him wherever he led. The knowledge she was leaving her father’s dreams forever behind her was submerged. It had to be so, she told herself. She had her own life to live. The choice was made. There was good reason for letting things be as they had been for time immemorial. Her father had been the disturbing influence. This was her final farewell to him. She hoped he would understand.

They reached the entrance to the tunnel that led out to the pure mountain air, to a clear vista of the country so loved by the man who would be her lover, to a future she couldn’t yet envisage, but it was waiting out there for her.

‘Go ahead,’ he urged as she knelt to crawl through to the crevice in the rock-face. ‘I will follow in a minute. There is something I must do for you first.’

She couldn’t imagine what it might be, but she didn’t protest or linger. She hated the claustrophobic feeling of the narrow passageway and manoeuvred herself through it with driven haste, emerging on the open cliff ledge with an intense sense of relief.

She didn’t touch the hydraulic jack near her feet. She was certain afterwards she did not. The weight it was supporting must have caused an overload in its mechanism. There was a loud crunch. The huge block of stone started to tilt towards her.

The shock of it robbed her of any wits at all. The instinct for survival must have taken over, forcing her feet to scramble out of harm’s way. It was only when the massive stone rocked into its resting place, sealing the exit from the crystal caves that she began to scream, the horror of it bursting through her mind, clawing at her heart.

If he had not been crushed to death, he was sealed inside the caves...entombed with no way out. In irrational panic she rushed at the monstrous rock, tried to free the crushed hydraulic jack, tried to push the massive weight aside. She wept, she sobbed, she called out to him again and again.

There was no answer. Not a sound issued from the mountain to assure her she was heard, that all was well with him.

Dead, she thought numbly.

Finally it dawned on her that she had to go for help. She had to leave him and find people who could rescue him if he was alive to be rescued. If an arm had been pinioned under that great weight... Amanda shuddered in horror at the mental image. She had to get help before it was too late.

The secret of the crystal caves could not be allowed to be a secret any longer. She couldn’t let him die in there. She wouldn’t let him die in there. Whatever it cost, she would get him out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AMANDA slid, fell, stumbled, scrambled and hurtled down the narrow paths and slopes on the way back to where they had left the horses. Scratches, scrapes, grazes and bruises meant nothing to her. Heedless of any damage she might sustain, her mind was set on one goal and one goal only. Despair and desperation drove her on.

Wearied beyond belief, she made it back to their base camp before sunset. She could not afford the luxury of sleep. Once she closed her eyes it might be a day before she opened them again. There was only one thing she could do. She had to go on.

At least coming down the paths and trails had been far easier and faster than going up. She hoped that would hold true for the journey she had to make on horseback.

She tried to saddle the white Arabian stallion, reasoning he could go faster than the black mare. He wouldn’t let her near him. She fell back on the mare, frantic to keep moving.

She hauled her battered body into the saddle. She tried knees, hands, reins, everything she could think of, but the mare only circled around, refusing to go anywhere without its mate.

Amanda cursed like an Arab caravan overseer. She cursed as she had never cursed before. Finally she managed to untether the white stallion and slapped it hard on its rump. It reared high on its back legs. Finally, and by good luck only, it took off along the trail by which they had come.

The black mare quickly raced onto its heels. Amanda knew she had no control over where they went, how they went, and the speed at which it was accomplished. She could only pray the white stallion would lead them to the nearest habitation so she could beg for a rescue party. If she could make herself understood.

They descended helter-skelter and Amanda felt sorry for her horse, obsessively intent on keeping up with the riderless stallion in front of them. It wasn’t fair on the mare, but the mare didn’t seem to care that she was carrying Amanda’s weight.

Amanda understood the instinct that wouldn’t let the female be parted from her male. Wasn’t that why she was pushing herself beyond any rational limits of endurance to keep going?

She could hardly bear to think of what it must be like to be imprisoned in those caves. Was there a fresh supply of air creeping in from a crack somewhere? Was it enough to last for...however long it took to bring help?

How powerful were the batteries in the torch? If he was plunged into utter darkness... Amanda shuddered.

Hold on...hold on...hold on...