by Susan Lewis
She blinked.
‘It’s time you loosened up a bit, Sandy,’ he said. ‘You’re getting old before your time, and there’s nothing in the rule book that says it has to be all work and no play, no matter how ambitious you are. Nor did I ever see it written anywhere that you have to dress like a forty-year-old executive before you’re even thirty.’
Her eyes widened in amazement. ‘This suit is a Christian Dior,’ she protested.
‘And perfect for a wedding,’ he conceded. ‘But I’ve seen you all dressed up in that stuffy designer rubbish ever since you arrived. It’s for women twice your age, and believe me, no-one’s going to think any the less of you if you tone down the make-up. In fact, you look gorgeous without it, so I’ve got to wonder why you’re trying to hide your own beauty?’
He waited, but she didn’t answer.
‘So I guess we’re back to you not liking yourself too much,’ he said.
‘I never said that,’ she protested.
‘You don’t have to say it,’ he smiled. ‘You’ve just got to change it. You know, I think I’ll take you shopping myself. I’m no expert, but I reckon we could have ourselves some fun.’
‘My name’s not Eliza Doolittle,’ she grumbled, though secretly she was delighted by the suggestion.
‘God forbid that an American should ever presume to teach a Brit how to talk,’ he laughed.
She looked confused.
‘Wasn’t that what Henry Higgins did for Eliza Doolittle?’ he reminded her.
She nodded.
He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s seven thirty,’ he said. ‘The stores don’t close until nine, so what do you say we go get you something entirely different to anything you’ve got in that trussed-up, expensive wardrobe of yours, then go paint this crazy town red?’
Her heart was racing with pleasure. No-one had ever taken this kind of interest in her before, and that it was Tom was blowing her mind. The trouble was, she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it. In a way she’d have preferred to have sex. She’d feel more comfortable with that. A bit more in control. Though something told her she might not be in control where he was concerned, so maybe the idea of shopping and clubbing was safer than she thought. In fact, the very idea of shopping with a man, which wasn’t something she’d ever done before, was extremely appealing.
‘What shall I wear to go shopping?’ she asked.
His grin widened and she felt her heart catch on how devastatingly handsome he was. ‘Do you have any jeans?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Not with me.’
‘Then show me what you do have, and if you as much as reach for the make-up, the date’s off.’
‘Date?’ she echoed.
‘Don’t tell me you never heard of a date?’ he cried.
She laughed. ‘Of course I have, I just didn’t realize that was what we were doing.’ She paused.
‘Well, get used to the idea,’ he said, swinging his legs off the bed, ‘because that’s what we’re going to be doing for at least the next eight hours, and if you tell me you don’t dance I’m going to sign you up for therapy. Now, let’s take a look at this wardrobe.’
It wasn’t until well after midnight, as she twisted and whirled and laughed and clapped in the flashing lights of some overcrowded nightclub, that she realized how many hours had passed since she’d last thought about Michael. But despite the way her heart sank as she did, she was having far too much fun to give in to it now. Never having felt so good in her new short black petticoat dress and knee-high, three-inch-heel black leather boots, she gyrated brazenly towards Tom, arms high in the air, then shrieked with delight as he scooped her up and swung her round in a circle. For the moment it didn’t matter that it wasn’t Michael she was with, when the time was right it would be, and until then all she could do was thank God she wasn’t in Ellen’s shoes.
Chapter 14
GAZING DOWN AT the gentle, persistent motion of the waves was like gazing into her own heart. Each time courage reached her, it was sucked away again by an undertow of fear, a pressing need for escape. She was two people now: the new bride who adored her husband, laughed with him, played with him and made love with him so willingly and passionately it was as though they were discovering each other for the very first time. And then there was the other her: the woman whose deceit was eating her up inside, whose fear watched the ‘new bride’ so jealously that she knew it was only a matter of time now before it swept on to the stage and took control.
It astonished her to find she could put on such a show, that she could detach herself so completely from the truth and pretend to be the woman she’d always been. She’d done it at the church, throughout the reception and now, for the past five days, here on her honeymoon. Guilt stalked her constantly, but if it ever came too close she reminded herself that all she was doing was living her life the way it should have been – and would have been had she not taken that single, insane act of revenge that was now about to take its revenge on her. And it would, because there was no way of avoiding it, no way at all.
But why shouldn’t she and Michael have these two weeks of happiness? What was wrong with giving him that when she was going to take so much away? Even if the baby turned out to be his she knew how hard it was going to be for him to forgive the doubt, and wondered if in the end they would ever get past it. She hoped desperately that the fact no-one else knew would help, but even if it did, she just couldn’t get rid of the dread that once she told him the truth he was never going to feel the same way about her again.
Right now she was standing in the small patio garden of their Caribbean home, looking down at the white, empty beach and glittering aquamarine sea. To one side of her was the double hammock that Michael had tied between two palms, where they often lay in each other’s arms gazing up at the sky. Because of the time of year the humidity was intense, but this was where they’d wanted to be, away from the rest of the world, yet still in their own home. She looked down at the sun loungers that were strewn with towels, tanning oil and the books they were reading. For a horrible moment the image came to her of him making love to Michelle on a lounger beside their pool in LA. She pushed it quickly away. She had no right to be jealous now, nor to use his betrayal to justify her own. She had wanted Tom Chambers and when faced with an excuse to seduce him, she had done just that.
Walking across the red brick tiles and under the flower-covered pergola, she stopped at a tub of geraniums and began to pull off the dead leaves. As she worked she almost smiled at the unusual spectacle she would present, dressed as she was, to anyone able to see her. But their small two-bedroomed villa in a secluded bay on the west of the island was overlooked by no-one, except maybe the pilot of a descending plane. Occasionally strollers found their way onto the beach below, but the hillside between was covered in giant cacti and other trees and shrubs, enough to obstruct the view up to the house. They were very private here.
Hearing the car come to a stop at the side of the house, she left the geraniums and walked across the grass to the two tallest palms in the garden that grew in a giant V from the ground and soared so high in the sky that on a bad day their green feathery tops were lost in cloud. Standing between them she turned so that she could see Michael coming, and leaning her shoulder against one tree she reached out to rest her hand on the other. He had taken many photographs of her here, striking just this kind of pose, but none while she was dressed like this.
As he came round the corner of the house, carrying two bags of groceries, she felt her heart swell, then weigh so heavily inside her it was as though she could no longer support it. She loved him so much it went beyond anything she could ever fathom or maybe even, in the end, endure. And knowing how much he loved her too turned the ache inside her to a terrible, wrenching pain. She watched him, knowing he hadn’t yet seen her, almost afraid of what she would see in his eyes when he did. Yet it was what she wanted, his desire, his passion, his urgency and love.
Pressing down the han
dle with his elbow he opened the door to the kitchen and disappeared inside. She heard him call her name, then saw him return to the door and look out. It was a moment or two before he found her, but when he did it was as though the space between them no longer existed, for the immediacy and power of his response leapt through her veins too.
He came towards her, his intense blue eyes drinking in the sight of her. This was the sexiest underwear she had ever owned, and the very first time she’d worn it. She wasn’t sure why she’d chosen now, today, to put it on, except she wanted to do anything and everything in her power to please him – and from the way he was looking at her now, there was no doubt in the world she was doing that. The white stretch-satin bodysuit went right up to her neck, where it folded over in a neat little lace collar. The shoulders were cut away, so were the cups of the bra, leaving her breasts completely exposed. From the waist down there was no more to the suit than the long thin triangle that barely covered her pubic hair. The white garter-belt was made of the same white satin, the stockings were also white.
As he reached her he stood looking down at her, his eyes burning with all the emotion she had feared, yet craved. His desire was so intense she could feel it knifing through her too, and the need for him to touch her was growing to a pitch she was finding hard to bear.
Resting his hands on the trees he lowered his head to her breasts and taking first one, then the other nipple into his mouth, he began to suck and pull and bite until he had drawn them out so far they were throbbing. Her eyes were closed, her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. He stood up and looked at her again, then his mouth came crushing down on hers as he drew her harshly against his erection, and ripped off his shirt so he could feel the hardness of her nipples on his skin. Her fingers were fumbling with his shorts, frantic to get to his penis, wanting it in her hand, in her mouth, and deep inside her. As she found him he groaned, and drew back quickly as a sudden climax threatened to claim him.
She looked up at him, waited for him to steady, then turned so he could see her from behind. Her back was totally covered, her buttocks were totally bare. He ran his hands over the soft, firm flesh, down to her stocking tops and around to the front of her. Kicking off his shorts he pulled her back against him, placing his penis along the narrow thong of her bodysuit. Her head fell back on his shoulder, and, as she looked up at him, he cupped her face in one hand and brought her mouth to his. His other hand had returned to her breasts, lifting them, squeezing them and grazing the nipples over his palm. Their tongues were as entwined as their hearts as he continued to kiss her, until finally he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.
‘Do you have any idea how much I love you?’ he whispered.
‘I love you too,’ she said, then moaned softly as he lowered his hands to ease open her legs. Obediently she parted them, then gasped as he suddenly tore open the bottom of her suit and pushed his fingers inside her.
‘Oh God, Michael,’ she murmured, as he began to stroke her. ‘Oh God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.’
He quickened his fingers, while with his other hand he pushed his penis down between her legs and began slowly to penetrate her.
‘Oh Michael,’ she cried as he filled her. ‘Yes, oh God, yes.’
Her final yes was more of a scream as he rammed himself into her. Very slowly he pulled back, then rammed himself in again. She bent forward, using the trees to balance, but almost lost it as she felt the full length of him plunge right up inside her. His hands circled her waist as he slammed himself in, harder and faster. The sensations were so fierce her knees were turning weak. He held her tight, keeping her against him as he soared towards climax. Then suddenly he pulled out, turned her round and took her in his arms.
She lifted her mouth to his and only broke away to pull the bodysuit over her head. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, the coarse dark hair, the hard muscle and sweat. She could feel the strength of his thighs pressing through the silk of her stockings and wanted them against her too. Quickly she peeled the stockings off, unhooked the garter-belt and returned to his arms.
Naked, they lay down in the grass, eyes locked together, as he entered her again and began to make love to her with such tenderness and skill it brought tears to her eyes. He knew everything about her, where to touch her, when to kiss her and how to surprise her. She watched him and touched him and yearned to become part of him. Knowing she was going to lose him filled her with such longing it was as though there was nothing else in her. She looked into his eyes and seeing him smile, she smiled too. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply. Then she rolled him onto his back and sat over him.
His hands came up to her breasts, caressing them and holding them, before descending to her waist, to her hips and round to her buttocks. He ran them along the insides of her thighs until he reached her and pulled her wide open. Then his thumb was on her, rotating, rubbing and pressing. She fell over him and clung to him with her arms and legs as he laid her on her side and came into her for a long, long time.
Later that evening Michael was on the phone to his mother, then Michelle and Robbie, while Ellen cleared away the remains of dinner and emptied what was left of a bottle of Chianti into the glasses she’d left on the table. They’d eaten outside on the patio, cocooned in the darkness by the burnished glow of citronella candles to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The moon was high and dramatically clear in a black, starry sky and the sound of the waves, soughing up from the shore, swept through the perpetual buzz of crickets and seemed to merge with the wonderfully romantic songs that were playing on the CD.
As she sat down at the table, propping her feet up on a chair, Michael said goodbye to his mother and waited for Robbie to come on the line. Turning to look at Ellen he winked, and pulled a sofa cushion out from behind him. She looked lovely sitting there in the candlelight, her hair clipped carelessly on top of her head, her lightly tanned skin glowing more darkly against the pale peach shades of her shorts and top.
She smiled back at him, then carried in his drink. He was gently biting her thigh and making her laugh as Robbie suddenly exploded onto the line.
‘Dad!’ he shouted. ‘Dad, guess what?’
‘And what would that be?’ Michael said, glancing up at Ellen.
Brushing her fingers lightly over his face she wandered back out to the table and sat down again.
‘I got a commendation for my maths today. That’s the second one this week. And if I get another before the end of next week I can win a red badge. I’ve got a blue one now, because I’ve got two. And Mummy said if I get a red badge we can go to Big Bear camping and I can wear my badge.’ He grabbed a quick breath. ‘And Dad,’ he pressed on, ‘guess what? I’ve got a new poster in my bedroom. Maggie sent it over from the office. It’s really cool. You can see it when you come home. When are you coming home?’
‘At the end of next week,’ Michael laughed. ‘And well done getting the commendation. I’m proud of you. If you get the red badge then Ellen and I should be back in time to come to Big Bear with you.’
‘Oh yeah!’ Robbie cheered. ‘Mum! Dad says he might come to Big Bear too.’
‘How’re Gran and Uncle Cavan?’ Michael asked.
‘They’re OK. Uncle Cavan’s teaching Gran to drive your car and they nearly had an accident today, but they’re all right. Gran said it was Uncle Cavan’s fault because he shouted at her, and Uncle Cavan said he wouldn’t dare to shout at her, because she would hit him. So she hit him anyway. It was really funny.’
Michael was laughing. ‘Just as long as my car is still in one piece,’ he said, ‘or I’ll hit them both.’
‘Oh, got to go now, Dad, South Park has just started.’
‘Hey! Do you want to say hello to Ellen? She’s right here?’
Michael’s heart sank at the silence. ‘Robbie? Are you still there?’ he said, wishing to God he’d never made the suggestion in Ellen’s hearing.
‘Yes,’ came a small, sullen voice.
&nbs
p; Repressing a sigh, Michael said, ‘I love you, son.’
‘Love you too, Dad,’ he replied. ‘Can I go now?’
‘Sure. I’ll call again in a couple of days.’
Putting the phone back on the hook Michael wandered out to the patio and sat down. ‘Sorry,’ he said, looking at Ellen across the table.
She smiled. ‘It’s OK,’ she answered, hurting as much for him as she did for herself.
‘We’ll work something out,’ he said, circling his fingers round the stem of his wineglass.
Ellen looked at him and longed to put her arms around him, as though to protect him from all the pain that was coming – pain that was so much bigger than this it couldn’t even begin to compare.
He lifted his eyes to hers and gazed at the candlelight reflected in her pupils. ‘I thought,’ he began, then took a breath. ‘I wondered, you know, when you threw up a couple of times before the wedding …’
Guilt hit her heart like a stone.
‘Nerves?’ he said and gave a humourless laugh. ‘I guessed, but, you know.’ He looked at his drink again, then picking it up he took a sip. ‘I don’t know if having any more would be the answer for Robbie. At least not right now. What do you think?’
She tried to swallow, but her throat was too tight. ‘It might not be,’ she said in a whisper.
Again his eyes were gazing deep into hers. ‘But it’s not all about Robbie,’ he said softly. ‘It’s about us too, and…’ He stopped and wiped a hand over his unshaven face. ‘Maybe it’s too soon,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should wait a bit longer, you know, with the movie coming up.’
‘Is that what you want?’ she said, barely able to speak.
‘I want whatever you want,’ he told her. ‘I guess I was just wondering, you know, with it not happening, if maybe, when we get back, we should go and get ourselves checked out. I mean, I know I’ve got Robbie, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be me. Something might have gone wrong between now and then. Something, you know, that’s going to be easy to fix.’