Free Dark Summer Dawn by Sara Craven Page B

always supposed his indifference to her to be total, and the realisation that he might know more about her than she thought was a disturbing one.
    Altogether, she thought, it had been a strange and disyear. She had been moody, swinging from one emotional extreme to another, as ready to cry as she was to laugh. Chas had been understanding and tolerant, ascribing her volatility to the residue of grief still remaining after her mother's death, but Lisa knew now that it hadn't been as simple as that.
    Dane's gift had sparked off something deep within her, something which she was too young and untried to acknowledge or even to recognise. All she knew was that her awareness of him had increased acutely, almost painfully. She found herself listening for the sound of his car on the drive, watching him covertly in the evening when he sat talking to Chas. When he was away on business trips as he frequently was, she felt lost and somehow afraid, as if she had been cast adrift on some uncharted emotional sea.
    And when he brought his girl-friends to the house, she suffered. The days when she could join Julie in her light-hearted criticism of Dane's women were long gone, she found.
    And throughout it all, she played the record he had given her until it seemed she knew every note, every cadence by heart. And when she played 'Daybreak', she felt as if the music encapsulated everything she was feeling, as if it suggested the dawning inside her of something almost too wonderful to be contemplated."
    And now she sat, her nails digging into the palms of her hands, her head throbbing dizzily as she remembered what it had been like to be seventeen and falling in love with Dane Riderwood.
    'Just like old times,' Chas said jovially from the doorway, as he propelled himself forward into the room.
    Lisa started almost guiltily, a deep flush mantling her face as Dane walked in behind his father.
    He said, ' "Daybreak" in the evening? I think not.' He walked across to the hi-fi, flicked a switch and the sound faded, leaving an aching silence behind it, a silence so profound that Lisa was sure that everyone must be able to hear the slow, uneven pounding of her heart.
    Then Mrs Arkwright appeared with the coffee, and Celia's light drawl began describing her father's plans to extend his works, and the moment was safely past. There was even more music, Lisa realised numbly, light innocuous background stuff with no associations for anyone.
    Julie said suddenly, 'If we rolled back the carpet a little, we could dance. Shall we?'
    Lisa hadn't the slightest desire to dance. She wanted to seek out the sanctuary of her room, and stay there quietly until the morning, but she knew that if she made an excuse and withdrew, then the party would begin to break up and Chas would be disappointed, to say nothing of Julie.
    As soon as the necessary space had been cleared, Tony was immediately at Julie's side, his arms sliding possessively round her.
    Celia gave her a little gurgle again. 'How marvellous to be in love,' she commented. She smiled rather challengingly at Dane. 'Well, darling, are you going to remind me of how it once used to be?'
    Silently, Dane held out his arms and Celia went into them, lifting her arms around his neck and looking provocatively up into his eyes.
    Lisa was astonished at the blatancy of her behaviour and glanced quickly at James to see how he was taking it, but he didn't even seem to have noticed that his wife was clinging to another man, and again Lisa got the impression that James had withdrawn mentally to a distance. Had he for or didn't he care that Dane and Celia had once gone around together for several months?
    'James,' Julie called out suddenly, 'Lisa isn't dancing.'
    Lisa flushed with mingled embarrassment and annoyance as James came towards her with an apologetic air.
    'It's all right, James,' she said. 'It's been a tiring day. I'd rather sit quietly with Chas anyway.'
    'Oh, don't be a spoilsport, darling.' Julie detached herself