The Marriage Bed. Helen BianchinЧитать онлайн книгу.
slipped silently free. ‘Thank you.’
Retreat seemed a viable option and she crossed to the capacious walk-in wardrobe, selected tennis gear, then extracted casual linen trousers and a blouse.
The buzz of the electric shaver sounded from the en suite bathroom, and he emerged as she finished changing.
Gabbi felt the familiar flood of warmth, and fought against it ‘What time do you want to leave?’ It was amazing that her voice sounded so calm.
‘Seven-fifteen.’
They descended the stairs together, and ate the delectable chicken salad Marie had prepared, washed it down with mineral water, then picked from a selection of fresh fruit. A light meal which would be supplemented by supper after the last game of tennis.
Conversation was confined to business and the proposed agenda at the next board meeting.
Chris and Leanne Evington resided at Woollahra in a large, rambling old home which had been lovingly restored. Neat lawns, beautiful gardens, precisely clipped hedges and shrubbed topiary lent an air of a past era. The immaculate grassed tennis court merely added to the impression.
A few cars lined the circular forecourt, and Gabbi slid from the Bentley as Benedict retrieved their sports bags from the boot.
Social tennis took on rules of its own, according to the host’s inclination and the number of participating guests.
The best of seven games would ensure a relatively quick turn-around on the court, Chris and Leanne determined. Partners were selected by personal choice, and it was accepted that two rounds of mixed doubles would precede two rounds of women’s doubles and conclude with two rounds of men’s doubles.
Gabbi and Benedict were nominated first on the court, opposing a couple whom Gabbi hadn’t previously met. All four were good players, although Benedict had the height, strength and skill to put the ball where he chose, and they emerged victorious at the end of the game with a five-two lead.
Chris and Leanne’s son Todd had nominated himself umpire for the evening. A prominent athlete and law student, he had any number of pretty girls beating a path to his door. That there wasn’t one in evidence this evening came as something of a surprise.
Until Annaliese arrived on the scene, looking sensational in designer tennis wear.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Annaliese offered a winning smile.
‘Mixed has just finished,’ Leanne informed her. ‘The girls are on next.’
Annaliese turned towards Gabbi. ‘Will you be my partner? It’ll be just like the old days.’
What old days? Gabbi queried silently. Surely Annaliese wasn’t referring to an occasional mismatch during school holidays?
Leanne allocated the pair to the second round, and Gabbi accepted a cool drink from a proffered tray.
The guests reassembled as Todd directed play from the umpire’s seat. The men gravitated into two groups, and in no time at all Annaliese had managed to gain Gabbi’s attention.
‘I had a wonderful afternoon phoning friends and catching up on all their news.’
‘One of whom just happened to mention the Evington tennis party?’ Gabbi queried dryly.
‘Why, yes:
‘Who better to know the guest list than Todd?’
‘He’s a sweet boy.’
‘And easily flattered.’
Annaliese’s smile was pure feline. ‘Aren’t most men?’
‘Shall we join the others?’
It was thirty minutes before they took their position on the court, and evenly matched opponents ensured a tight score. Deuce was called three times in the final game before Annaliese took an advantage to winning point by serving an ace.
An elaborate seafood supper was provided at the close of the final game, followed by coffee and a selection of delicious petits fours.
Gabbi expected Annaliese to commandeer Benedict’s attention. What she didn’t anticipate was an elbow jolting her arm.
It happened so quickly that she was powerless to do anything but watch in dismayed silence as coffee spilled onto the tiled floor.
‘I’m fine,’ Gabbi assured Benedict as he reached her side. She bore his swift appraisal with a determined smile.
Only a splash of hot liquid was splattered on her tennis shoes, and a cloth took care of the spillage.
‘You could have been burnt,’ Annaliese declared with apparent concern.
‘Fortunately, I wasn’t.’
‘Are you sure you’re OK, Gabbi?’ Leanne queried. ‘Can I get you some more coffee?’ Her eyes took on a tinge of humour. ‘Something stronger?’
She was tempted, but not for the reason her hostess imagined. A ready smile curved her mouth and she shook her head. ‘Thanks all the same.’
It was almost midnight when she slid into the passenger seat of the Bentley. Benedict slipped in behind the wheel and activated the ignition.
‘What happened in there?’
The car wheels crunched on the pebbled driveway, and Gabbi waited until they gained the road before responding.
‘Could you be specific?’
He shot her a quick glance that lost much of its intensity in the darkness. ‘You’re not given to clumsiness.’
‘Ah, support.’
‘Annaliese?’
Tiredness settled like a mantle around her slim shoulders. Indecision forced a truthful answer. ‘I don’t know.’
‘She was standing beside you.’
‘I’d rather not discuss it.’
Gabbi was first indoors while Benedict garaged the car, and she went upstairs, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower-stall.
A few minutes later Benedict joined her, and she spared him a brief glance before continuing her actions with the soap. They each finished at the same time, emerged together and reached for individual towels.
Ignoring Benedict, especially a naked Benedict, was impossible, and there was nothing she could do to slow the quickened beat of her heart or prevent the warmth that crept through her body as she conducted her familiar nightly ritual.
A hand closed over her arm as she turned towards the door, and she didn’t utter a word as he pulled her round to face him.
Eyes that were dark and impossibly slumberous held her own and she bore his scrutiny in silence, hating her inner fragility as she damned her inability to hide it.
More than anything she wanted the comfort of his arms, the satisfaction of his mouth on her own. Slowly she lifted a hand and traced the vertical indentation slashing his cheek,. then pressed her fingers to the edge of his lips.
Her eyes flared as he took her fingers into his mouth, and heat unfurled deep inside her as he gently bit the tip of each finger in turn.
Unbidden, she reached for him, drawing him close, exulting in the feel of his body, his warm, musky scent, and she opened her mouth in generous acceptance of his in a deep, evocative kiss that hardened in irrefutable possession, wiping out any vestige of conscious thought.
Gabbi gave a husky purr of pleasure as he drew her into the bedroom and pulled her down onto the bed, lost in the sensual magic only he could evoke.
If business commitments didn’t intrude, Benedict elected to spend Saturdays on the golf course, while Gabbi preferred to set the day aside to catch up on a variety of things a working week allowed little time for.
Occasionally