Charlotte Lamb
Desperation
CHAPTER ONE
MEGAN CARR slid out of the open french windows on to the raised stone-paved terrace and stood there, her pale face, framed in long, dark hair, lifted to the rising moon. It was a calm, clear night in late September during one of those unpredictable spells of warm weather that can make autumn one of the loveliest of seasons. Behind Megan buzzed the noise of the party: loud music, laughter, insistent voices trying to be heard above the rest. Everyone in there was having a great time, but she had come out to escape the gaiety. It grated on her own mood. Tonight she was melancholy.
'What are you doing out here? You haven't got a headache, have you?'
The deep voice behind her made her stiffen, but she did not turn. She didn't need to; she knew who had followed her out here, and perhaps she had been hoping that he would, although torture wouldn't have wrung the admission out of her.
'No, I'm fine. I just wanted to . . .' Her husky voice died away as Devlin Hurst came up close behind her.
'Get away from that racket?' he asked, a smile in that deep, dark voice of his, and Megan pretended to laugh.
'Well, it is more peaceful out here!' Although the tranquillity had been blown to smithereens the moment Dev had come out here and sent her temperature climbing, had made her pallor become a burning flush.
'A full moon tonight!' he said, his hands resting lightly on her bare shoulders. Megan shivered at the brush of his skin on her own.
'Cold?' he asked with concern. She hurriedly shook her head, but he turned her to face him, lifted her chin so that her blue eyes had to look up at him. He was a head taller; a man of com-manding height who would have been daunting even if he hadn't had such incisive features. Megan had only known him for a couple of months, but she was already in love with him, and the explosive mixture of pain and passion showed in her flushed face.
'What's the matter, Megan?' he asked, and she started to speak half-way through the question, her voice unsteady.
'Nothing! Don't bother about me, go back to the party and your friends.'
'I've talked to them all,' Dev said, grey eyes cool. 'There's nothing more to say to them.'
'You're impatient to be on your way to South America, I suppose,' Megan said, trying to sound light-hearted.
'Yes and no,' he shrugged. 'I am looking forward to reaching the Amazon. This extended trip is the fulfilment of a lifetime's dream. For years I've wanted to explore the river from the source to the river-mouth.' He looked down into her eyes, his mouth crooked. 'But there are some things I'll miss, and I'll be away for a whole year!'
Her lip trembled for a split second and she looked away. 'A year's a long time.' When she thought of the next twelve months, they seemed endless. 'You're going to miss your family,' she said, then over his shoulder she saw the house. Hurst Manor had been in his family for nearly two hundred years, and had all of the solid, comfortable elegance of the eighteenth century.
'I'll miss you!' Dev said, and Megan caught her breath, her face rigid with shock and incredulity.
Dev laughed suddenly at her expression, then stopped short, his hands coming up to frame her face.
'I mean it, you know. I am going to miss you.'
She couldn't speak, only stare, and after a charged silence he bent his head to kiss her. Her eyes closed, her arms went round his neck, a fire between them as their mouths mingled. It wasn't the first time he had kissed her, but this time it was different; this time she was dizzy with pleasure, and Dev's lips were so fierce they almost hurt.
