The Guilty Wife

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The Guilty Wife Page 2

by Sally Wentworth


  That knowledge, and the fact that he was a barrister, ought to have put her off, or at least have acted as a warning, but his attraction was too great for her to heed it. Lucie liked the way he continued to look after her, and she liked the way the candlelight cast shadows on his face, accentuating the leanness of his high cheekbones, the fan of his eyelashes and the laughter lines around his mouth when he smiled. He had a good voice, deep, well modulated, educated but not over the top, and he knew how to tell an anecdote to get the best out of it, to make her laugh richly.

  When the evening was over, when Seton could find no excuse to linger any longer, he moved reluctantly towards the door and said, 'You're quite sure there's nothing else I can do?'

  'Quite sure. You've already been kind beyond the can of conscience.'

  She was standing near the front door, waiting for him, her fair hair a silken sheen hi the light of the lamps she'd lit. Coming close, Seton said softly, 'If you think that's the only reason I came, you couldn't be more wrong.'

  Lucie was aware of his closeness, of his masculinity, and for a moment became nervous again. Holding out her right hand, she said with formal politeness, 'Goodnight, Seton. Thank you for the meal.'

  He looked at her, then disconcerted her again by taking her hand and raising it fleetingly to his lips. 'Goodnight, Lucie.'

  Closing the door behind him, Lucie leaned against the wall, feeling enchanted by that unexpected gesture and yet strangely low now that he had gone. For a while she had felt feminine and pretty and—cherished: a sensation that had never come her way before. But she had liked it, oh, how she had liked it. And how she had liked him. She went to move away, but there was a sharp double knock on the door panel, just near her head. Slowly Lucie reached out and turned the knob, let the door swing open. Seton was standing there, one arm up against the doorframe. He said, 'I forgot to ask. Do you believe in kissing on a first date?'

  'No, definitely not.'

  'Nor do I.' Coming inside, he shouldered the door closed. 'In that case, we'd better call this our second date.' And, taking her hi his arms, he drew her to him and kissed her.

  When Seton raised his head at last, Lucie kept her eyes tight closed, afraid of breaking the spell. Because it couldn't be true, it couldn't be real. No kiss, no simple coming together of a man's and a woman's mouth, could possibly be that wonderful. She lived it again: the sensual warmth of his lips, the dizzying effect on her senses, the discovery deep inside her of awakened need—a need that could so easily have flamed into fierce passion and desire.

  'Hey,' he said softly against her mouth. 'Have you gone to sleep?'

  Still with her eyes closed, Lucie smiled. 'No, but I think I'm dreaming.'

  'Is that good or bad?'

  She looked at him, then said huskily, 'Oh, it was very good. Do you always have that effect on the women you kiss?'

  'What effect?'

  Slowly she reached up to touch his face, letting her fingers trace the line of his jaw. 'Devastating,' she admitted honestly.

  He gave a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure. 'Thank God for that! It would have been terrible if it had all been onesided.'

  Her eyes widened. 'You—you mean it was like that for you too?'

  'Of course.' Seton grinned. 'But perhaps we should do it again and make sure.'

  It was what Lucie wanted more than anything else in the world, but some note of caution made her say, 'This—

  you... It's all happening so fast. I don't know you.'

  Seton laughed. 'Well, I don't know you either, but I'm willing to take a chance.' Her face changed, became stricken, and he said quickly, 'Lucie! What is ft? I was only joking.'

  'Yes—but you don't know me.'

  'So we'll get to know each other. We'll do that old-fashioned thing they used to call courting. We will go out together, and we'll take our time.'

  'And—and this?'

  Realising what she meant, he held her closer and said softly, 'I won't rush you into anything. I'll let you set the pace. But I would like to kiss you again. Now. May I?'

  But he didn't wait for her to agree; his hands were already cupping her face, tilting her head so that his lips could seek hers, so lightly at first, softly exploring, tracing with tiny kisses the length of her upper lip, gently biting at the fullness of the lower one. Then, using the tip of his tongue, he made her open her mouth and let him hi, and suddenly his lips weren't gentle any more, but hot and forceful and demanding. Lucie gave a small moan and closed her eyes, letting him take her with him on a deep spiral of pleasure, where the world was lost and the only sensations were those of his closeness, of the flame of passion that erupted through her veins—the need, the desire, the knowledge that for her nothing in the world had ever been as wonderful as this, that nothing else mattered so much.

  Seton's shoulders hunched as he kissed her, his breathing quickened and he said her name over and over again, his voice thick, the murmured name mingling with her own gasping sighs. His kiss deepened with passion until he drew back suddenly, remembering his promise. Lifting his head, he held her against his chest and she could feel the beating of his heart.

  Tm afraid,' she said, with an honesty he couldn't possibly understand.

  'I know, but there's no need to be, my darling. I'll take care of you.'

  'Please—I think you'd bettor go now.'

  'You don't trust me, huh?' He smiled tenderly down at her. 'Well, maybe you're right; I've never found myself in this kind of situation before.'

  'What kind?'

  His eyes crinkled and he gave her lips the merest touch with his. 'Wild about you, of course.' And then he opened the door and was gone as Lucie still stood with eyes open wide in astonishment. Seton came to collect her the next morning, buoyant, on a high, reaching out to kiss her as soon as he arrived. Lucie, too, was exhilarated by excitement, but was also full of nervous tension. She could see happiness opening before her but was afraid to grasp it, so she held him off.

  'No! Don't touch me,' she cried out, knowing that she would be lost if he held her. But he put his hands on her shoulders and said, 'Lucie? What is it?'

  "This—this attraction you feel. It could be just a chemical thing, something that's hit us out of the blue.'

  'Ah, so you admit it hit you too,' he said with satisfaction.

  Ignoring that, Lucie said, 'How do you know it won't go away as suddenly as it came? You might wake up one morning and hate the sight of me.'

  'If I woke up with you beside me it couldn't be anything but wonderful—perfect,' Seton said simply. She tried to argue with him, to point out that something that had happened so quickly couldn't possibly last. But Seton merely laughed and pulled her into his arms.

  Lucie gave a sigh of frustration. 'Oh, you big fool! Why won't you listen to me? Take me seriously?'

  But then he kissed her and immediately Lucie was lost again, and somehow she knew that she always would be, that whenever he kissed her it would always be like this, a total domination of her mind, her heart and her body. And yet she accepted it gladly, glorying in it, knowing that it was the same for him. He was, she observed, unchangeable, and he proved it in the next weeks as he saw her as often as he could. That first week he was around all the time, driving her wherever she wanted to go, taking her out to eat, solicitous about her injured wrist. And after the first week, when he had to go back to London to work, he put a great many miles on the Jaguar as he drove down to take her to dinner and the theatre—places that she would never have gone to normally. He didn't seem at all short of money, and although he didn't throw it around he was always very generous, booking the best seats at the theatre or cinema, tables at well-known restaurants. Although he obeyed the rules she'd set down for them to get to know each other better and not to rush things, Seton was quite capable of trying to break down her defences. Often, when they said goodnight, he would kiss her so passionately that it almost broke her resolve, but somehow she managed to push him away, to send him home empty and unfulfilled, as f
rustrated as she was herself.

  It was a long, hot summer, and one day, when they'd known each other about six weeks, Seton hired a boat for the day and rowed her down the river that meandered through the old town, making sure she had cushions to make her comfortable, although her wrist was almost mended now. He'd brought a picnic hamper and dangled a bottle of wine over the side to keep it cool until they came to a quiet spot of trees and dappled sunlight. There Seton moored and helped her onto the bank.

  He laid a rug down on the grass and they ate and drank, listening to old, trad jazz tunes on a cassette player. He had taken off his shirt because of the heat and, although she tried to resist, Lucie found her eyes drawn to his broad, smooth chest and the muscles that rippled in his shoulders and arms. The slight breeze made the leaves above them move, casting shadows that played across his body, first highlighting a shoulder, then the tiny, fascinating nipples, then the length of his back as he turned away from her to repack the hamper. It was erotic, sexy, as if some mischievous Cupid had deliberately set out to tease and tantalise her senses. Lucie's throat tightened and she felt a fierce surge of longing, an emotion so strong that almost of its own volition her hand lifted and she touched his back, letting her fingers trail down the length of his spine. She felt a great quiver of awareness run through him before Seton turned swiftly to face her. The need for her was there in his eyes—deep, intense concupiscence. A need, she knew, that was mirrored in her own.

  'Lucie.' He said her name on a long, low breath of discovery and pleasure. Reaching out a trembling, unsteady hand, he put it on her cheek and slowly stroked her face, holding her eyes all the time. Then he came up on his knees so that he could bend to kiss her.'

  His lips were hot, eager, quivering with anticipation. Putting her hand on his shoulder, Lucie felt his skin taut and damp with perspiration, not from the heat but from the excitement of knowing that she wanted him. His breathing ragged, Seton lifted his head for a moment, his lips parted as he stared at her. Without hesitation, Lucie put her hand behind his head and drew him down to her again, returning his kiss with a fire she had never shown before. With a cry, Seton bore her back onto the rug, raining kisses on her lips, her eyes, her throat. Then, his breath a panting gasp, he raised himself on one elbow and slowly undid the buttons of her shirt. His moan of pleasure was almost like one of pain as he looked at her breasts for the first time, seeing them young and firm, the nipples small, tight buds that tilled tantalisingly towards him. 'You're so beautiful. So perfect.' Unable to resist, Seton bent to kiss, to touch, to arouse her into hardness and drive them both wild with frustrated longing.

  'God, I want you,' he moaned. 'It's driving me crazy. I can't steep. I can't work. I think about you all the time.'

  Lucie opened eyes dark with need to look at him. 'Think about making love, do you mean?'

  'Oh, yes. I ache for that. But I think of so much more, of—'

  He broke off abruptly as Lucie reached out to his belt. 'You'll have to help me,' she said unsteadily. 'I can't manage with only one hand.'

  'Lucie.' Seton stared down at her. 'Are you sure?'

  She smiled at him. 'Oh, yes, I'm very sure.' And she finally admitted, 'You're not the only one who's been having sleepless nights. So why don't we make our wish come true?' she invited huskily. There was wonder in Seton's eyes as, coming up on his knees and taking his time, delighting in every moment and saving it for ever in his memory, he took off the rest of her clothes. She looked so beautiful lying there before him. The knowledge that in a moment she would be his at last, that he would enter her and make her his own, made his breath rasp in his throat. His hands shook as he touched her, the thought of the joy and pleasure that was to come almost overwhelming. When she lay completely naked, he murmured, 'I adore you. Oh, my darling, I worship you.'

  'Take me, then.' Lucie's voice grew urgent. 'Take me now!'

  Slipping off his own clothes, Seton bent first to kiss her again before coming down onto her. He tried to be gentle at first, but the exquisite, agonising pleasure soon aroused him so much that he lost control. With a gasping cry, he put an arm under her hips and lifted her towards him, thrusting with such passion that Lucie cried out, her body on fire with ecstasy, her hot, panting mouth searching for his, her arms around him, holding him yet closer. The rising tide of senssuality overtook them, engulfed them, and their mingled groans of delight echoed into the air as their bodies joined in the most primitive and yet most beautiful act in the world.

  When it was over they lay in each other's arms for a long time, too exhausted to move, too enraptured still by what had taken place between them to want to break the spell. Until, at length, Seton, his heart still thudding in his chest, raised an unsteady hand to move a lock of hair that clung to her damp face. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, Lucie saw the most wonderful light of happiness in his face. It shone from him, hi the blaze of triumph in his eyes, in the smile of tenderness he gave her. 'That,' he said simply as he gently kissed her, 'was the most wonderful moment of my life.'

  Lucie sighed softly, knowing herself completely happy and fulfilled, her body satiated with pleasure.

  'And for you?' he questioned. 'Was it good for you too?' A rueful look came into his eyes. 'I didn't mean to be quite so passionate, but things kind of got out of control.'

  Lifting her hand, Lucie ran her fingertips over his lips, then down to circle his minute nipples, knowing it was safe to play with him, tease him. 'I never knew before that they had earthquakes in England.'

  He grinned delightedly. 'The earth moved, did it?'

  'And some.' Lifting herself into a sitting position, she pushed him back onto the rug and leaned down to kiss him, her long hah: shading their faces, making the kiss very intimate, very private. 'I'm glad you lost control,’ she said softly, her lips against his mouth. Straightening, she let her hand move over him, caressing, exploring. 'You're so strong,' she murmured. 'Have such power.'

  Taking his hands, she held her own against it, comparing their size, amazed at how much smaller hers was. Fascinated by the physical differences between them, Lucie gazed at him, at the length of his lean body, quiet now and unaroused. She ran her hand along his soft skin, from his neck down his chest and thighs, along his muscled legs to his feet. 'You're beautiful,' she said in admiration. 'I didn't know a naked man could be beautiful.'

  Her hand trailed up again but found that things had changed. She gave a surprised gasp, and explored a little more until Seton couldn't bear it any longer. With a groan he pulled her under him and made love to her again. Rowing back up the river, the evening sun casting long shadows over the water, was a moment to be held and treasured. Lucie had never felt so content, so fulfilled. And it showed hi her face, in her radiant smile and the glow of happiness in her eyes. It had been a golden day in her life, a day satiated by food and wine, by sun and sex, by coming alive as a woman.

  Seton found it hard to take his eyes off her, she looked so beautiful. And she looked as if she had been well and truly loved; it showed in the languid hand she trailed in the water, in the intimate smiles she gave him with languorous eyes, in the way her mouth curved and her lips parted hi remembered pleasure. Just looking at her like that was an aphrodisiac, made him want her yet again.

  'Do you remember,' he said, 'when I told you I wanted you? Before—well, before the wish came true, I started to say that it wasn't just making love that I wanted.'

  'Just making love?' She smiled at him teasingly.

  He grinned back at her, the triumph of winning her and of giving her such pleasure obvious in his face. 'I know. A stupid way of putting it.' His voice becoming earnest, he went on, 'But I do want more, Lucie. I want to be with you, know that you're mine. I dream of coming home to find you waiting for me. I long for the time when I won't have to drive away and leave you at the end of an evening together.' His voice grew husky. "That tears me apart, having to leave you.'

  She thought he was asking her to let him stay at the flat with her th
at night so that they could make love again. So she said, 'I want that too. I want you to stay whenever you can.'

  They came to the boatyard and Seton concentrated on taking them neatly up against the mooring, on tying the boat up. Helping her out, he said in her ear, 'You have grass hi your hair.'

  'Oh.' Lucie laughed as she combed it with her fingers, and threw him a pert glance that was full of new-found confidence. He had given her femininity, and an assurance of her power to arouse him. Collecting their picnic things, they strolled back to his car and loaded them into the boot. Seton opened the sun-roof to let the heat out and they drove to a pub and sat on the terrace overlooking the river for a drink. Over it, Seton said, 'I will stay tonight, of course, but that wasn't what I meant.' Taking her hand, he said, 'I'm head over heels in love with you, Lucie. I want to be with you for always. I want you to marry me, my darling, just as soon as we can arrange it.'

  Lucie stared at him in stunned surprise, her mind whirling. 'But I—I thought you just wanted...'

  'Oh, Lucie, how could you be so blind? Surely you must know how much I care about you?'

  She pulled her hand away, a stricken look in her eyes. 'But it's too soon. We've only known each other a few weeks.'

  'But what difference does that make? I know you love me; today proved that. Can you deny it? Can you, Lucie?'

  Slowly she shook her head, knowing that to pretend would be useless. But she repeated, 'It's too soon.'

  Lifting a hand to stroke her face, Seton said, ‘I know what you're saying, but you're all wrong, my darling girl! I fell in love with you almost from the first moment. To me it was a miracle—a very wonderful miracle. And I know that there's no way in the world that I could ever stop loving you. Nothing you or anyone else can do could possibly make me change the way I feel. I'm not going to grow out of it and nor are you. Believe me, Lucie, this is for keeps.'

 

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