A Passionate Affair. Elizabeth PowerЧитать онлайн книгу.
even the present consisted only of the swirling heights to which they had risen. Passion was the master, and it was all the more powerful for being denied so long.
Her head was resting against the hard column of his throat as he cradled her against him, the furious pounding of his heart beginning to diminish as he placed small burning kisses on her brow.
It wasn’t until he gently lowered her feet to the floor that she began to think again, but even then she was so wrapped up in his arms as he continued to hold her close against him that the full import didn’t register. ‘I love you, sweetheart.’ His voice was muffled above her head but warm with lingering passion. ‘Never doubt that for a moment.’
She continued to rest against the lean bulk of him, but now reality wouldn’t be kept at bay. She had allowed Taylor to make love to her. No, not just allowed it—encouraged it, begged for it, she admitted silently, feeling numb with shame.
‘This is where you say you love me too.’
The beginning of her reply was lost in his kiss as he bent his head, but after a moment or two the lack of response must have got through to him. He raised his head, his eyes taking in her mortified face. ‘We’re married, Fuzz,’ he reminded her evenly. ‘It’s okay to say you love me.’
He was saying it was okay for much more than that, and they both knew it. ‘We—we’re separated,’ she protested faintly.
He held her away from him for a second, his gaze conducting a leisurely evaluation of the space between them. ‘So we are,’ he agreed lazily, his voice deep with throaty amusement. ‘But I can soon remedy that again, if you so wish?’
In spite of herself her body tingled where his eyes had stroked, and now her face was scarlet. For months she had been fiercely telling herself that she was able to make a new life in which Taylor played no part. She was a career woman now; she was going to concentrate on that and that alone. Men, romance, sex—she didn’t want any of it. There were too many complications, too many compromises, too much heartache. And what had happened to all her grand thoughts and principles? Taylor had happened. He had crooked his little finger after eighteen months of silence and she had flown into his arms like a homing pigeon. It was her worst nightmare come to life.
‘We shouldn’t have done this.’ She pulled herself free, yanking the throw off the sofa and wrapping it round her. ‘It will only complicate things.’
‘I doubt they could get more complicated,’ he said mildly.
‘Of course they can.’
He didn’t contradict her this time. He simply stood there, stark naked and faintly amused as he surveyed her frantic face. After a moment he said, very calmly, ‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Shall we eat?’
Shall we eat? She stared at him, her cheeks pink and her hair ruffled. Men were a different species, they really were.
‘Fuzz, you haven’t done anything wrong.’ It was said in tones of insulting patience, the sort of voice one used with a child who was being particularly silly. ‘We’ve just enjoyed one of the most natural pleasures known to man—and woman.’ She went even pinker, as he had meant her to. ‘Besides which we are man and wife, for crying out loud. Or had that little fact slipped your mind with it being so long?’
Nothing about Taylor had ever slipped her mind. ‘The… the divorce.’ Had he made love to her just to put a spanner in the works? She wouldn’t put it past him. She wouldn’t put anything past him. ‘Will it make a difference if the solicitors find out?’
‘I tell you what, I won’t tell if you don’t.’ His face had closed against her as she had spoken, and now he bent to retrieve his clothes, beginning to dress with lazy grace.
She watched him miserably, more confused than she had ever been in her life. She loved him. She had never stopped loving him even when she had told herself she hated him for what he had done. But did she trust him? Did she really believe he had just been Tanya’s boss and that was all? Did she know, deep in her heart, that there had never been any other women since he had met her? The answer sent a bleak chill through her, quelling any words of appeasement.
Once he was dressed he looked at her, no expression on his face now. ‘I can’t carry you kicking and screaming out of that place of shadows you inhabit and into the real world,’ he said quietly. ‘And I can’t show you any more clearly how I feel. You’re destroying us—you know that, don’t you? Throwing away something which should have lasted for a lifetime and beyond. I know what your mother did was tough, along with the rest of it, but sooner or later you have to make up your mind whether anything at all is worth fighting for. If it is, we should be at the top of the list.’
‘I didn’t ask you to come here this morning,’ she said numbly.
‘No, you didn’t.’ He nodded his agreement. ‘But I came anyway, so that should tell you something. And don’t say it was because of what we’ve just done either. If it was just sex I wanted there are any number of women I could call on. That’s the way of it when you are wealthy and successful. I don’t want sex, Fuzz. I want to make love. With you. There’s a hell of a difference there. Do you see that?’
She stared at him, her eyes huge. ‘I don’t know what to think any more. I’m—’
‘Confused.’ Taylor confirmed his understanding with a nod. ‘But not knowing what to think is better than being sure of the wrong thing. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.’
She couldn’t return his smile. She felt raw and exposed and his last words had done nothing to calm her agitation. Taylor was the master of manipulation. Had this morning been an exercise in psyching her out? If so it had been an extremely rewarding one as far as he was concerned.
‘Get dressed, Fuzz.’ His smile was replaced by a sombre gaze. ‘And I promise I won’t touch you again this morning, okay? We’ll eat, pretend this is just the beginning of a normal working day for an old married couple.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ She wondered why the bedsit seemed to have shrunk since he had walked into it.
‘You still need to eat.’
She wanted to argue, but she had the horrible feeling she might burst into tears if she did. Gathering up her clothes, she said, ‘I’ll just have a quick shower,’ and scuttled across the room, closing the door of the shower room firmly behind her and then locking it. Her body felt sensuously replete, the core of her throbbing faintly with a pleasant ache and her breasts full and heavy as she showered before dressing. She eyed herself in the small mirror before leaving the tiny room and groaned softly. She had the look of a woman who had just been made love to, sure enough. She was going to have to make up very carefully once he had gone.
She took a deep breath and lifted her head, opening the shower room door and walking briskly into the main room. And then she stopped dead. It was empty. He’d gone. She glanced about her as though she expected him to leap up from behind the sofa, and then she saw the note on the breakfast bar. Walking across, she picked it up, holding the rose which he had slanted across one of the pages from the message pad she kept near the telephone.
Sorry, urgent call on my mobile means I’ve got to cut and run. We’ll talk later. T
Marsha sank down on one of the stools, her heart thudding. T. Not even ‘love T’. And surely he could have waited a few minutes until she’d showered and dressed? Had he regretted making love to her? Or had he thought it would be easier on her if he left before she came out? She had said she wasn’t hungry, but—
Stop it. The command in her head was strong. No amount of rationalising would give her the answer. Only Taylor could do that, and she couldn’t ask him. She put down the note and the rose, staring at the deep red petals for a long time. She had let Taylor into her mind and her body this morning; she’d gone against everything she had told herself over the last eighteen months and had given him goodness knows what message. She was stark staring mad.
Coffee. She nodded to