Free Midnight Never Comes - PC 04 (v5) by Jack Higgins Page B

with a complete lack of embarrassment, and presented a delicately arched foot for his inspection.
    The sweep of that long, lovely leg, the curve of the thigh beneath the skirt took the breath out of him. He swallowed hard and glancing up saw the barely suppressed smile.
    'Damn you, Asta Svensson,' he said with some passion. 'Play fair or you may get more than you bargained for.'
    'Is that a promise?' she replied, the smile breaking through to the surface.
    'I should put you over my knee. An attractive proposition, come to think of it.'
    'Better and better. We Swedes are reputed to be terribly over-sexed, you know.'
    He glanced up sharply and for the moment, her self-assurance seemed to desert her and she became simply a young, nineteen-year-old girl with a rather boyish charm. She smiled shyly, looking down at the hands, folded in her lap and in that one brief moment of revelation he knew she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.
    He tilted her chin and said wryly: 'You're very lovely, Asta Svensson. So lovely that I think I'd better get back to your foot without further delay.'
    Her smile seemed to deepen, to become luminous and she no longer looked shy, but completely sure of herself. She leaned back in the old chair and raised her foot again and Chavasse looked at it, aware of her eyes on him.
    There was a faint swelling above the ankle bone beneath a jagged scar. He probed it gently and nodded. 'I don't think it's much. How did you get the scar?'
    'Skiing. There was a time when I thought I might make the Olympics.'
    'Too bad.' He stood up and took a spare handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tweed jacket. 'I don't think it's much, but a cold-water bandage won't do any harm. I'll take the lamp if I may.'
    He left her there in the firelight, went into the kitchen and soaked the handkerchief under the cold tap. When he returned, she was lying back in the chair, eyes closed. The moment he touched her foot, she opened them again.
    'Tired?' Chavasse said as he bandaged the foot expertly.
    She nodded. 'As the ticket collector said, it was a fair step.'
    She mimicked him superbly and Chavasse chuckled. 'It was that and more. Have you had anything to eat?' She shook her head and he produced the remaining half pound of chocolate from his pocket and dropped it into her lap. 'Greater love hath no man. Start on that and I'll see what there is in the kitchen.'
    He was back within a couple of minutes. 'Nothing doing, I'm afraid. All the cupboards are locked and the calor gas cylinders are empty, so we couldn't cook anything even if we wanted to.'
    'Never mind, the chocolate is fine.' Already half was gone and she held the bar out, a guilty look on her face. 'Have some.'
    'That's all right,' he said. 'I had a whole bar to myself back there on the mountain. I'll make do with a cigarette.'
    'I must say you seem extraordinarily self-sufficient,' she said. 'What do you do for a living?'
    'I'm Lecturer in French Literature at the University of Essex--or at least I will be when the new term starts in October. Something of a return to the fold really.'
    'Why do you say that?'
    'Oh, I was a university lecturer way back when I first started out, but it all seemed too restricting, so I joined the overseas Civil Service.'
    'What went wrong?'
    'Nothing really, except that the Empire diminished year by year and they kept moving me on. Kenya, Cyprus, Northern Rhodesia. The future seemed uncertain to say the least, so I decided to get out while the going was good.'
    'Back to a calmer more ordered world.'
    'Something like that. After all, one doesn't need a great deal. You learn that as you get older. Take this lodge for example. A man could live here quite comfortably.'
    'But not alone, surely?'
    'All right then, we'll admit Eve into his paradise.'
    'But what would they live on in these barren hills?'
    'There's fish in the stream, deer in the forest.' He laughed. 'Aren't you familiar with that old Italian proverb? One may live