Elizabeth Power - A Passionate Affair

‘Who was he? This guy you had spy on me?’ Much as she would have liked to storm off with her nose in the air, she really wanted to know.

‘He was a she, and from one of the most reputable firms in the country.’ He looked at her squarely. ‘And there was no question of spying. She merely checked now and again that you weren’t in any trouble, that everything was okay. That was it.’

‘And who I saw and where I went and with whom?’ Indignation lit her eyes and flushed her cheeks.

He was magnificently unperturbed. ‘Of course. You are my wife.’

‘We are separated .’

‘You’re still my wife, Marsha.’ The use of her name checked her even more than the tone of his voice, which had suddenly chilled.

She looked into amber eyes which had become as dangerous as those of a big cat, and just as hard. ‘I shall never forgive you for this,’ she said shakily. ‘To have me watched, put under surveillance as though I’m the one in the wrong—’ She wished with all her heart she had met someone in the last months, gone out on a date or two, flirted a little—anything to puncture that giant ego.

‘Then it is merely another crime to be added to the list, yes?’ He shrugged as though bored.

‘And you obviously don’t care about any of your crimes, right?’ she snapped, furiously angry with his offhand manner and lack of remorse.

‘If you are referring to my supposed affair with Tanya, I plead innocent to all charges, remember?’

She glared at him, wondering how it was that he could so get under her skin, even when she knew exactly what he was playing at. She ought to be able to ignore his arrogance, but it grated on her unbearably. ‘I want the bloodhound called off.’

‘I doubt the very attractive woman concerned would appreciate being labelled a dog.’

He was laughing at her! She stared into the hard face, quivering with righteous indignation. ‘I can think of worse things to call her,’ she said forcefully.

‘I don’t doubt it.’

‘Does she know the sort of man she’s working for?’

‘I think so.’ He was regarding her lazily. ‘More to the point, do you?’

‘Only too well.’

‘Now, that I doubt.’ He caught her upper arms in his hands, holding her in front of him and looking deep into her eyes as he said, ‘But before I’m finished you will know, Marsha. That’s a promise.’

‘Let go of me.’ She stood rigid in his grasp, glaring furiously up at him. ‘I don’t appreciate being subjected to brute force.’

‘Brute force?’ His eyes pierced her with laser brightness. ‘There’s times I wonder what planet you’re on.’

His complete refusal to accept any blame for his actions made her see red. ‘You’re the lowest of the low—you know that, don’t you?’ she hissed bitterly. ‘I hate you—’

Anything else she might have said was cut off by the simple expedient of his mouth on hers. She knew enough not to struggle this time, willing herself to show no feeling at all as he brought all his sexual experience to the fore in a kiss that was tender and erotic and deep in turn. He gently probed her mouth until her lips parted for him of their own volition as resistance drained from her, in spite of all her efforts to remain unmoved.

He was just too good at this, she thought feverishly. He always had been. In the early days she had been enchanted to find a man who kissed like Taylor, who made it into an art. The trouble was it had left her with no defences, no barriers to the response he could always bring forth with seemingly effortless skill.

She knew she was melting against him, and yet she could no more have stopped her body’s response than she could have stopped breathing, and the past and the present were forgotten as the magic that was his mouth took her senses. Taylor shifted his stance slightly to take more of her weight, one arm going round her waist and the other moving to take a handful of her hair as he pulled her head back gently for greater access to her mouth. The position and feel of him brought a torrent of memories to mind, and all of them good.

His tongue curled round hers, probing in a way that sent tremors throughout her whole body, and then his mouth moved to one earlobe, nibbling gently. Heat was flowing in her veins, intensified by his tongue as it traced a delicate path in and around her ear in a sensual pattern that had her legs trembling.

Her eyes were closed now, colours and sensation merging as she gave herself utterly to the bewitching assault. She could feel his arousal, hard against her softness, and it added to the pleasure she was experiencing. Her body felt as if it was one hot, sensual nerve.

‘You’re so beautiful, so delicious.’ The soft whisper came at a time when he was caressing her aching breasts with sure fingers, each light touch sending electricity bolts right down to her toes. ‘I could eat you, devour you.’

And she wanted him to. She couldn’t stop her hips moving against him in an invitation that was as old as time, and moans shuddered through her body as the scent of him surrounded her in an intoxicating bubble.

He was powerfully muscled, without an ounce of surplus flesh, his body hard and uncompromisingly male, and as her hands roamed over his wide shoulders and strong chest her desire reached fever pitch. She felt the cool night air on her breasts and realised he must have undone the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on her jacket without her being aware of it. But it was when his hands cradled her breasts, his fingers having pushed the filmy lace of her bra out of the way, that she found the strength to push him away.

‘No.’ She took a step backwards, her legs shaking so much she felt they wouldn’t hold her. ‘I don’t want this.’

He made no move towards her, merely raising a dark eyebrow as he said, ‘That’s not what your body is saying.’

She stared at him, forced to admit to herself that her whole body was so sensitised by his lovemaking that every move he made registered on her nervous system. ‘I’m not saying that I’m not physically attracted to you,’ she said carefully, ‘but that is something quite different.’

‘You’ve lost me.’ He sounded tolerant, and she didn’t trust that. Tolerance was not one of Taylor’s attributes.

‘We’re no longer an item, Taylor. That’s what I’m saying,’ she said firmly.

‘We never were an “item”, Fuzz. We were married, remember?’ He didn’t sound quite so tolerant now. ‘Or should I say we are married.’

She did up the buttons on her jacket as swiftly as her trembling hands would permit, furious with herself for giving in so easily to what was clearly a ploy on his part. He thought he only had to turn on the charm and she would fall at his feet, she thought caustically, ignoring the little voice in her head which added nastily that he was quite right.

‘I think it’s high time I went home.’ She raised her chin as she spoke, desperate to hide the burning sense of shame that had flooded every part of her.

‘You are home.’

‘You know exactly what I mean.’

‘You mean you want to go back to that lonely little box you inhabit, right?’

She reared up like a scalded cat at the insult to the home she had so carefully put together. ‘You say the taxi is waiting?’ she asked, with a cool dignity she was very pleased about afterwards, when she thought about it.

‘That it is.’ The amusement was back in his voice, and nothing could have been more guaranteed to hit her on the raw.

‘Then thank you for dinner,’ she said icily, ‘but I really do have to leave now.’

‘I’ll tell Hannah you’re leaving. You were going to say goodbye to her, weren’t you?’ he added disparagingly.