“Of course!”
He paused and then said,
“Are you still sleeping with him?”
“What?” I choked the word out.
His voice was barely a whisper. “Are you still sleeping with him? Now, I mean.”
This was ghastly.
“We share a bed, Sebastian, but we haven’t … had sex. Not since … you … since us.”
I thought that would be enough, but I was wrong.
“Are you going to sleep with him? While you’re still living there?”
He turned toward me, his face desperate.
“Will you, Caro?”
Appalled by the direction of his interrogation, I closed my eyes and spoke with a cold, controlled voice.
“The thought of David touching me is utterly repellent, Sebastian … but my husband is not a patient man.”
I heard him gasp.
“You mean he’d force you?”
Sebastian’s voice was horrified. I saw rage flare in his eyes; his expression scared me.
“No, not the way you mean…”
“You can’t, Caro! You can’t let him! Promise me you won’t let him touch you.”
How on earth could I keep that promise? I wanted to, desperately.
“I’ll try.”
He looked like he wanted to say more.
“Sebastian, it’s a beautiful day; we have a few precious hours left, please let’s not spend it fighting.” Or talking about David.
He took a deep breath. “When I think of him touching you, I just…”
“Please, don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
We paused, our lives at opposite sides of a gorge, a delicate tightrope stretched between us.
He reached over and pulled me to him, so I was splayed across his chest.
“That’s better,” he said. “You were too far away.”
I smiled sadly. His words were truer than he knew. But I was where I wanted to be, in the enchanted circle of his arms.
He nuzzled my neck, the tickling sensation making me squirm.
“You’re all sandy,” he murmured against my throat.
“I wonder why? Could it be because we’re at the beach?” I tried to match his playful tone.
“You’ll have to wash it off,” he said, his voice soft and seductive.
“Mmm, I suppose I shall.”
He sat up quickly so I was cradled in his lap.
“I want to help with that,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
He stood up with me in his arms and started striding toward the sea.
“Sebastian! Don’t you dare!” I half-screamed, half-laughed.
“I’m helping!” he said, smiling broadly.
And he dunked me in the sea, fully dressed.
“Aagh!”
The water was shockingly cold.
“Sebastian!” I gasped, spitting out seawater, “I’m soaking!”
“Mmm, I’ve always wanted to see a wet t-shirt competition.”
“Sebastian!” I yelled, trying to maintain some shreds of dignity as I struggled back to the dry sand. “Just look at me! I’m furious with you!”
“What are you going to do, spank me?” he said with a wicked grin.
My mouth dropped open in shock.
“I’ll think of something,” I huffed ineffectually.
“Bring it on!” he replied, his tone amused.
I dripped back to our cozy dune and stripped off my strappy t-shirt and summer skirt, draping them across the long grass. The material of both was thin so there was a good chance they’d dry out before I had to go home. If not, well, David hadn’t looked in the laundry hamper in the 11 years we’d been married.
I turned to watch Sebastian. He dove through the waves, swimming strongly. I caught glimpses of him, silvery in the sea as he bodysurfed back to the beach. He saw me watching him, waved once and disappeared into the ocean again.
I lay back in the sand, a strange sensation of happiness filling me.
My underwear, however, was uncomfortably damp. I slipped off my bra and spread it out in the sunshine, then lay on my front, the coarse sand doing a better job of exfoliation than any expensive beauty salon.
The sun was deliciously warm on my back and I began to doze, lulled by the rhythm of the waves.
“You look so beautiful like that.”
Sebastian’s words roused me gently. His hands, however, were chilly.
“Whoa! Cold hands!”
He laughed out loud, a happy carefree sound.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”
“You didn’t try,” I muttered petulantly.
“No, not really,” he admitted. Then his voice was serious. “I want to touch you, Caro.”
“I know. I want that, too. But we have to wait.”
He groaned. “I’m going to go crazy!”
“And it’s not even a full moon.”