Burning with Passion

‘Only just,’ she muttered back. Her father could be the very devil, once he got a bee in his bonnet.

‘You have to take the credit,’ David murmured. ‘Your skills at sign language are definitely improving.’

She trod on his foot to keep him silent, to stop the tantalising brush of his lips close to her ear, to let him know he couldn’t take too much for granted. Not with her. Not any more.

He gave a small grunt, removed his hand from her waist.

Caitlin removed her foot from his.

‘OK,’ said David. ‘I got that message. You don’t like compliments.’

Caitlin stood there in a dilemma.

David deserved a reward for what he had accomplished. She wanted to give him a reward. The difficulty was that the reward David wanted, and the reward she was prepared to give, were not one and the same thing.

She turned to him, her eyes seeking his in a painful plea for honesty. ‘I do like compliments, David. As long as there’s no payment expected for them. As long as they’re truly felt. And I thank you, with all my heart, for what you’ve achieved for my family tonight.’

‘I thought only of you, Caitlin. I did it for you,’ he replied, his eyes a steady blaze that burned into her heart.

‘Why?’ she whispered.

‘I want to keep you with me,’ he answered simply.

She felt disappointed in his reply. She had wanted more from him. But perhaps it was too soon to expect more. At least they were talking to each other in a way they had never talked before. It was a start towards something better.

She looked back at her parents. Her father was fastening a string of pearls around her mother’s throat. Thirty years, Caitlin thought. How long does it take? she wondered. Where would she and David be in thirty years?

How long did he want to keep her with him?

For what purpose?

CHAPTER NINE

CAITLIN could not have been more satisfied with the way the party was going.

Her mother was floating on a cloud of happiness, basking in her husband’s adoration, showing off the pearls he had given her to all the guests—a lovely pearl ring and ear-studs as well as the necklace—and glowing with pleasure in the shower of congratulations and good wishes.

Her father, intoxicated by his new-found power to woo his wife, continued to woo her w

ith a gallantry that was the envy of all her friends.

David dispensed French champagne which had suddenly and mysteriously appeared from some unknown source. The pleasure of such unexpected extravagance added bubble to the party. He had certainly thought of everything. For her, Caitlin reflected with heady pleasure. He had done it all for her.

Trevor, impressed, did his best to cultivate a friendship with the man who owned a Ferrari and obviously dabbled in French champagne. He found that being the barman might still be classified as menial work in his own classification of important jobs, but it did have its compensations.

The only person who was not happy was Michelle. ‘What on earth got into Dad to act like that?’ she remarked peevishly to Caitlin. ‘It’s not at all like him!’

‘Perhaps he remembered how it once was,’ Caitlin answered, her voice soft with the secret yearning to have the same feeling between her and David one day.

‘He’s got Mummy all moonstruck. She’s behaving like a silly little girl.’ This clearly did not meet with Michelle’s approval.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Caitlin queried.

‘Who’s to know where it might lead?’ Michelle grumbled.

Caitlin observed her sister keenly, recollecting the smug air she had thought suspicious earlier. ‘Is that a problem for you, Michelle?’ she asked, wondering how much her sister had contributed to the breakdown of communication between her mother and her father.

‘Of course not!’ Michelle snapped. ‘I just think it’s all very...ridiculous!’ Her eyes narrowed on Caitlin. ‘Are you and David Hartley at the bottom of it all?’