Lovers in the Afternoon

by Carole Mortimer

‘Oh don’t I?’ she challenged recklessly. ‘You just turn around and walk out that door. And if you want to see me again you can call at a reasonable time!’

  ‘Have you been able to sleep?’

  ‘Of course, why shouldn’t I?’ In fact it was because she had only eventually fallen asleep about an hour ago that was making her so bad-tempered, feeling nauseous with the suddenness of her wakening.

  ‘Because you missed me,’ he suggested huskily.

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she said heatedly. ‘I slept before you came into my life, and I’ll sleep the times you aren’t with me!’

  His mouth tightened. ‘You really want me to leave?’

  ‘Yes!’ She glared at him, still badly shaken from her imaginings of him being her obscene caller. ‘What we have is a relationship, Adam. I’m not some available body you can take to help you fall asleep!’

  He recoiled as if she had struck him. ‘It wasn’t like that—’

  ‘Wasn’t it?’ she accused. ‘Can you deny you came here to make love with me?’

  ‘That was part of it—’

  ‘I’m beginning to think that might be all of it,’ she scorned. ‘Now that I’m not such a non-event in bed you can’t do without it, can you?’

  A white line of fury ringed his mouth. ‘You have improved in bed,’ he bit out contemptuously. ‘But I’ve had better,’ he added woundingly. ‘I thought this,’ he twisted up her left hand with his eternity ring glittering on her finger, ‘meant we had more than a physical relationship. I thought we had respect and liking, maybe even loving. But I was obviously wrong,’ he thrust her hand away from him. ‘I came here because I couldn’t sleep until I’d apologised for the senseless argument we had earlier,’ he ground out. ‘But you obviously haven’t been plagued by the same need. I will leave now, I’m sorry I troubled you!’

  The colour had come and gone again in her face as they hurled the hurtful words at each other, knowing she had provoked this scene, a scene that could be the end of them. And suddenly the idea of Adam walking out of her life became too unbearable to contemplate.

  ‘Adam!’ She ran to him as he stopped at the door, her arms about his waist from behind as she rested her cheek against his back. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things.’

  He didn’t move. ‘The point is, did you mean them?’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve just woken up after lying awake for hours aching for you,’ she admitted gruffly. ‘I’m a bad-tempered witch, and I’m sorry.’

  The tension left his body in a ragged sigh. ‘Can I stay?’

  ‘Please,’ she groaned her need.

  He turned to take her in his arms, holding her tightly. ‘Have you forgiven me for frightening you like that?’

  ‘Of course.’ She snuggled up against him.

  ‘Has he called again?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I told you, only Fridays at eleven-thirty.’

  ‘I wonder why that is,’ Adam frowned.

  ‘Maybe that’s his night out with the boys away from his wife,’ she dismissed.

  ‘You think he’s married?’ Adam’s frown deepened.

  ‘I try not to think about him at all,’ she told him firmly. ‘And I wish you wouldn’t either. He’s a sick man who vents his frustration on life by telling me dirty things.’

  ‘If I ever find out who he is I’ll kill him,’ Adam ground out.

  She smoothed the anger from his face. ‘We’ll probably never know, so let’s forget him.’

  ‘Yes.’ He did so with effort. ‘Shall we go to bed?’

  She smiled up at him encouragingly. ‘I thought you would never ask!’

  Their lovemaking was different again tonight, as enjoyable as it always was, but no more so than the closeness they shared afterwards as they lay in each other’s arms. As she lay next to Adam Leonie knew that their relationship had transcended the physical, that even though she had no idea of Adam’s feelings for her that she loved him, doubted she had ever stopped.

  * * *

  She could feel the tension rising within her as they neared Adam’s father’s house, wished with each passing minute that she had stuck to her decision not to go there with him for dinner. But her closeness to Adam that morning had compelled her to change her mind, sure at that time that she could survive the ordeal of meeting his father again.

  She had changed her mind back again since then, had picked up the telephone a dozen times during the day to tell Adam to cancel the dinner, only to replace it again without speaking to him, sure he would find her cowardly behaviour less than attractive.

  Getting herself ready had been a disaster, not realising her nail-polish wasn’t dry, finding out that fact when her tights got stuck to it as she tried to get dressed. Then she had torn the hem of her dress with her evening shoe, having to change her make-up tones with the dress, realising at the last minute that she had grey shadow on one lid and green on the other!

  By the time Adam arrived to pick her up at seven-thirty she was feeling hot and flustered, telling him she couldn’t possibly go out, that she thought she might be going to come down with something. His method of persuasion had left her even more hot and flustered—but with a decided glow to her eyes.

  The fact that they were now going to arrive very late didn’t seem to bother Adam in the slightest, the intimate smiles he kept directing her way reassuring her that she had his support, that he wouldn’t let her down as he had so much in the past.

  The Faulkner staff must have been aware of the break-up of Adam’s marriage, and yet the haughty butler didn’t so much as bat an eyelid at Leonie accompanying Adam to dinner, his manner very correct as he took her jacket.

  ‘Dad doesn’t eat little girls for breakfast,’ Adam teased her as she hesitated about entering the lounge where she knew the senior Mr Faulkner was waiting for them.

  ‘That’s only because he knows I’d give him indigestion!’ she muttered ruefully.

  Adam was still laughing when they entered the lounge, although Leonie sobered as she sensed the disapproval emanating from the rigid-backed man standing across the room from them. Charles Faulkner was an older version of Adam, still very good looking despite being over seventy, although the lines of harshness beside his nose and mouth weren’t quite so noticeable in his son yet. And if Leonie had her way they never would be!

  ‘You’re late,’ Charles Faulkner bit out critically without greeting.

  ‘Are we?’ Adam dismissed unconcernedly.

  ‘You know you are,’ his father said harshly, cold grey eyes turning to Leonie. ‘What have you been up to now?’ he scorned.

  In the past she would have cowered away from such open contempt, but somehow tonight she knew Adam was on her side, and that gave her the confidence to steadily meet those critical grey eyes. ‘Good evening, Charles,’ she deliberately used the informality she had been too nervous to take while living in this house. ‘I hope you’re well,’ she added politely.

  The older man scowled. ‘I’m as you see me.’

  Her perusal of his rigidly held body was deliberate and slow. ‘You’re looking very well—considering your age.’ Her expression remained deceptively innocent, although she could sense Adam was having difficulty containing his amusement.

  ‘And what does age have to do with it?’ Charles frowned heavily at the backhanded compliment.

  ‘Well, I remember your once telling me you’re just an old man who wants to see his son happily settled before you die,’ she reminded him of the argument the two of them had had just before she left Adam; it had been one of many occasions when Charles Faulkner had verbally attacked her without Adam’s knowledge. She didn’t intend to bring those arguments to Adam’s knowledge now, she just wanted to warn Charles Faulkner that she wouldn’t stand for it a second time. From the look on the older man’s face it was working.

  ‘Oh?’ Adam sounded suspicious.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling,’ she gave him a bright r
eassuring smile, enjoying Charles Faulkner being the one to feel uncomfortable for a change; in the past she had never dared to mention his father’s cruelty to Adam. ‘I assured your father I only wanted the same thing.’

  Adam looked across at the older man with narrowed eyes. ‘It sounds an—interesting conversation.’

  ‘Oh, your father and I had a lot of interesting conversations,’ she dismissed with feigned innocence. ‘I’ve missed them the last few months.’

  ‘I’ll bet you have,’ Adam sounded angry.

  ‘Shall we go through to dinner?’ his father rasped. ‘It’s been ready almost an hour.’

  ‘Then it should be nicely cooked, shouldn’t it,’ his son dismissed hardly.

  ‘Ruined more like,’ his father muttered, shooting resentful glances at Leonie, which she promptly ignored.

  ‘I’ve never known Mrs Simmonds to ruin a meal,’ Adam insisted.

  ‘Always a first time,’ his father bit out.

  The meal was delicious, as they had all known it would be. Emily Simmonds was as taciturn as her employer, but her food melted in the mouth, and it was always perfectly cooked, the Beef Wellington, asparagus tips, and tiny new potatoes that followed the home-made pâte better than could be bought in any restaurant. But the food didn’t seem to have improved Charles Faulkner’s mood at all.

  ‘You never did tell me why the two of you were so late arriving,’ he snapped as they were served the chocolate meringue for dessert.

  Delicate colour heightened Leonie’s cheeks as she left it to Adam to reply; after all, he was the one who had delayed them. Even if she had enjoyed it.

  ‘I took Leonie to bed and made love to her,’ he stated calmly, continuing to eat his dessert in the midst of the furore he had created.

  ‘Adam!’ Leonie gasped her dismay, not expecting him to be quite so candid.

  His father’s mouth was tight. ‘In my day a man didn’t discuss taking his wife to bed.’

  ‘Only other women, hm?’ his son mocked, the elderly man spluttering his indignation. ‘But Leonie is no longer my wife.’ His hand clasped hers, his smile warm.

  ‘You’re back together,’ his father pointed out abruptly.

  ‘And we’re staying that way,’ Adam nodded. ‘But not as husband and wife.’

  ‘You—you mean you’re just going to live together?’ Charles made it sound decadent.

  ‘Not even that yet,’ his son replied happily. ‘Not until Leonie is ready for it.’

  ‘Leonie!’ his father snorted. ‘In my day a man didn’t ask his wife’s permission to do anything!’

  ‘I know that,’ Adam nodded. ‘And for a while I followed your example. I walked all over Leonie as if she were a piece of the furniture, didn’t ask her opinion on anything, didn’t even care if she wanted to make love or not. I did, and that was good enough for me.’

  ‘Adam…!’ She looked at him pleadingly.

  ‘No, Leonie, I have to make my father understand that things are different now.’ He turned to the older man. ‘Leonie is a person, with feelings and desires. It took me a long time to realise there was more to a marriage than putting a ring on some lucky woman’s finger. Lucky!’ he scorned. ‘Leonie never knew a day’s happiness after I married her. I was so busy being the strong man you had taught me to be that I killed the love Leonie had for me. I realise now that mother was just as unhappy with you as Leonie was with me.’

  His father flushed with rage. ‘Your mother wasn’t unhappy! I gave her everything, cars, jewels, furs, this beautiful house, the servants, you!’

  ‘You didn’t give me to mother,’ Adam contradicted impatiently. ‘You created me together. And instead of giving things to mother you should have spent more time with her, talked, laughed.’

  ‘I had a business to run,’ his father scowled. ‘I didn’t have time for that.’

  ‘Then you should have made time!’

  The two men glared at each other, the similarity between them at that moment unmistakable.

  ‘And I suppose that’s what you intend doing, so that you can pander to this—to this—’

  ‘To Leonie, yes,’ Adam bit out.

  ‘And the business will suffer because of it!’

  ‘The business will do just fine,’ Adam corrected. ‘That’s what delegation is all about.’

  ‘I’m surprised you haven’t decided to sell everything off,’ his father scorned.

  ‘I thought about it—’

  ‘Adam!’ Leonie gasped her shocked dismay.

  ‘And decided against it,’ he finished gently, squeezing her hand reassuringly. ‘There would have been no point,’ he shrugged. ‘I would still have been the same selfish man, and a richer but unemployed one too. So I decided that it was I who had to change, not my life.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ his father told him tautly. ‘At least, nothing that can’t be straightened out as soon as you’re over this infatuation you suddenly have for your own wife!’

  Adam shook his head, his smile sympathetic. ‘There’s nothing sudden about my feeling for Leonie, I was just too busy to express them before. Never show any sign of weakness, that’s your motto, isn’t it, Dad?’

  ‘It’s never failed me,’ the older man ground out.

  ‘Oh it’s failed you,’ Adam contradicted gently. ‘Mother was never completely happy, never really sure of your love, and I’ve turned out to be made from your own image.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong in that,’ his father bit out. ‘You’re a successful man, well respected in the business world.’

  ‘The respect of complete strangers doesn’t mean a lot,’ Adam told him impatiently.

  ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me next that all you want is Leonie,’ his father derided coldly.

  ‘Yes,’ Adam answered quietly. ‘That’s exactly what I want. I also want your respect for her, and until you can give her that we won’t be coming here again.’

  ‘Adam.’ She looked up at him pleadingly.

  ‘It’s all right, Leonie,’ he assured her with a gentle smile, pulling her to her feet at his side. ‘I’m sure my father knows I mean what I say.’ The last was added challengingly.

  ‘You’re acting like an idiot, Adam,’ his father rasped. ‘Can’t you see she’s a little simpleton? Why, all she’s been able to do for the last half hour is gasp your name in varying degrees of incredulity!’ he added contemptuously.

  ‘Good night, Father,’ Adam told him flatly, guiding Leonie to the door.

  ‘Adam!’

  He turned slowly at the anguished cry. ‘Yes?’ he bit out coldly.

  His father was standing too now, looking more disturbed than Leonie had ever seen him. ‘Can’t you see you’re making a damned fool of yourself, and over a young slip of a girl who isn’t worthy of you?’

  Adam gave his father a pitying smile. ‘If this is making a fool of myself I hope I never stop!’ He opened the door for Leonie to precede him out of the room.

  ‘Adam…!’

  He ignored his father’s second plea, his arm about Leonie’s waist as they left the house together.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LEONIE sat quietly at his side as he drove them back to her flat, all of their nights spent there together, Adam an integral part of her life now.

  She was stunned by the evening with Charles Faulkner, had had no idea Adam meant to issue his father such a challenge because of her. She knew Adam had changed since their separation, but she hadn’t realised just how much.

  And he had done it for her, he had revealed tonight, that was what she found so incredible. He wanted her so much that he was willing to change his whole life for her. Surely that must mean he loved her? It was a word that remained conspicuously absent from their relationship.

  But she loved him, more than ever after his defence of her in front of his father, knew that she had never really stopped loving him. And she believed him when he said Liz was out of his life for ever. But she wanted to be his wife again more
than anything, wanted the children with him even a long-term affair couldn’t give them. Maybe in time…

  ‘Thank you, Adam,’ she huskily broke the silence.

  ‘For what?’ He heaved a ragged sigh. ‘For subjecting you to even more unpleasantness from my father?’

  She put her hand on his thigh. ‘I’ve known worse from him.’

  ‘I’m sure you have,’ he ground out. ‘Just how often did he used to make those digs at you without my knowledge?’

  ‘It’s over now, Adam—’

  ‘How often, Leonie?’ he demanded stubbornly.

  She sighed. ‘Whenever he could,’ she admitted. ‘It was very demoralising.’ She had no intention of widening the gulf between father and son by telling Adam how often his father had reduced her to tears.

  ‘You should have told me what was going on,’ he rasped.

  Leonie shrugged. ‘He never said anything that wasn’t the truth. It really doesn’t matter now,’ she assured him.

  ‘It matters to me,’ Adam bit out. ‘I was such a lousy husband I couldn’t even see what a bastard my father was to you!’

  ‘You were not a lousy husband,’ she defended.

  ‘Yes, I was,’ he nodded grimly. ‘God, I hope I’m a better lover than that!’

  She felt any hope she may have had of persuading him to resume their marriage slipping away from her. It was obvious that Adam preferred things the way they were. ‘Yes,’ she told him softly. ‘You’re a better lover.’

  She fed the cat when they got in, Adam watching her with brooding eyes as he sat on one of the armchairs. He still seemed very disturbed by the incident with his father, and she sat down on the carpeted floor in front of him as she turned to talk to him.

  ‘He’ll come around,’ she said softly.

  He looked startled. ‘You mean Dad?’ His brow cleared. ‘Yes, he’ll come around,’ he acknowledged heavily. ‘And I hope he’s a wiser man for it.’

  ‘But you weren’t thinking about him, were you?’ she probed.

  ‘No,’ he admitted flatly. ‘I was just wondering how you could have stayed with me as long as you did, and what damned arrogance made me assume I could just walk back into your life and get you to accept me as your lover!’