'It would be good,' he said, 'if we could forget the rest and recapture that time—that place.' He made a slight movement, adjusting his position, and she felt him touch her shoulder, quietly and softly, his fingers cool as drops of water against the sudden bum of her naked skin.
A fist seemed to clench in her chest as reluctantly, painfully, she found herself remembering...
Reliving in too-vivid detail the nearby whisper of running water, the scent of the grass, and the glow of the sun against her closed eyelids. And Nick's mouth on hers, gentling her lips apart, bringing her to trembling life with the delicate play of his tongue against hers and the slow, beguiling drift of his fingers on her body.
While, deep within her, she'd felt the first bewildering, tormenting ache of desire—overwhelming and irresistible.
It might have been yesterday. It could be now...
Now! The word seemed to sting her brain, sending her crashing back to sanity. Oh, God, she groaned silently, what was she thinking of?
Gasping in shock, she jerked away from him. 'Don't—don't touch me. I—I can't bear it."
There was a silence, then he spoke, his voice soft and jeering. 'What are you hoping, my sweet? That you'll offend me so deeply I'll toss you back to your good Samaritan at Gunners Wharf and crawl away, wounded, into the undergrowth?' He shook his head. 'You'll have to try harder than that, darling. And I think it's time to give some thought to the actual terms of our agreement," he added with a touch of grimness. 'Because, under the circumstances, a little touching is going to be inevitable."#p#分页标题#e#
Her mouth was dry. 'But not yet. Not so soon—please.'
'A pleasure deferred, then,' Nick drawled mockingly.
She winced. 'How can you possibly say that?'
'Easily,' he said. 'Because I intend to enjoy every inch of you—and every moment of our lime together.' He paused. 'You, of course, must do as you please." He reached out an arm and flicked on the lamp at his side of the bed, bathing the room in pink light.
Cally stiffened. 'What are you doing?'
He said quietly, 'If I'm not allowed to touch, I may at least look.' He took the edge of the covers and tossed them back.
Cally made an unavailing grab for their protection, then lay like a stone, staring into space, her lower lip caught in her teeth, bitterly aware that the delicate layer of chiffon was no barrier at all against his cool, lingering scrutiny of her body.
At last, she said in a small, stifled voice, 'Have you finished?’
He gave a brief, harsh laugh. 'Don't be naive, darling. We both know I haven't even begun yet.'
He turned away from her, onto his side, extinguishing the light and leaving her to draw the covers back into place. She lay beside him, imprisoned by silence and his proximity, not daring to move.
Even when his quiet, steady breathing told her that he was asleep, Cally could not relax. How could he be so casual—so unfazed, she asked herself, when he was behaving so abominably?
He'd meant everything he said, she thought, fear tightening her throat. They had a bargain, and—sooner or later— she would be made to keep her side of it.
How many women did he want in his life at any given time? she wondered, almost hysterically. And what kind of man made time for his mistress just before he was due to depart on honeymoon with his brand-new bride?
The cynicism of that terrified her.
But even if she confronted him about it—accused him, told him openly that was why she'd left, why she could not bring herself to live with him as his wife-would it make any real difference? He'd simply shrug it off, without guilt or remorse. A deal that had not paid off.
Or, even worse, he might see it as a confession of weakness on her part. A sign that she cared more then she'd eve r been prepared to admit.
And she couldn't risk that. Not at this juncture.
Cally brought her clenched fist up to her mouth, sinking her teeth into the knuckles.
Her disappearance had undoubtedly embarrassed him, and it would certainly anger him if she reneged on their bargain a second time. But Nick wouldn't suffer—not as she'd done a year ago, she thought with anguish. Or as the Gunners Wharf residents would when he pulled the plug on their housing scheme. As he assuredly would.
And she would be left to endure the guilt of that— knowing that she could have prevented it if she'd submitted to his demands.
But the reality of what he was asking had settled on her like a stone, and she felt crushed by its weight.
A baby, she thought. A tiny human being to be created and carried in her womb. To be brought into the world for her to love and nurture. Or, as seemed more likely, a prize to be fought over by two waning strangers.
Cally shivered. That wasn't what she wanted. How could it be? Yet he'd already set off an emotional alarm bell. 'Joint custody,' he'd said. 'At first anyway.'