by Anne Hampson
Adam fell strangely silent, and as the moments passed Jill began to wonder if he would take notice of her pleading and leave her alone. But her hope was effectually crushed by his next words.
'I've already said that the life we live here, together, is a strain for us both. The fact that you've attached yourself to another man only strengthens my previous conviction that we ought to live as a normal married couple until the time comes for us to part.' His voice hurt her because it was so dispassionate, so practical, without a glimmer of emotion, much less affection. 'That unnatural life is going to be rectified,' he went on inexorably, 'tonight. You'll be glad, eventually—'
'No, I shan't! I don't want you! I'm keeping company with Gilbert now, and it would be immoral for me to sleep with another man!'
'Immoral?' Adam's brows shot up. 'Since when has it been immoral for a wife to sleep with her husband?'
'You're twisting it just to suit yourself,' she accused. Tears were running down her cheeks, but they had as little effect on him as her desperate entreaty, 'Adam ... don't do this to me.' He made no answer, and she added, 'I have a certain loyalty toward Gilbert now-and he has certain rights. . . .' Her voice trailed away to a frightened silence as she realised how ill-chosen her words were.
Adam's nostrils were flaring, and little threads of crimson were creeping up the sides of his mouth. 'Do you know what you're saying?' Losing control of his temper, he shook her unmercifully, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of her shoulders so painfully that a little moan of protest escaped her. 'You're speaking to your husband about the rights of another man-another man!' He shook her again, adding further bruises to her arms. 'As your husband, I am the only one who has rights-get that!' He released her and she staggered away, feebly shaking her head in bewilderment. For this pagan-like fury was out of all proportion. 'True, he was her husband, but by their agreement he had no rights whatsoever, and he knew it. The piece of paper that was their marriage certificate meant nothing; it was her promise alone that bound her to him.
'You have no rights,' she began, but he interrupted her with an imperious flick of a hand.
'You're about to discover whether I have rights or not.' Reaching for her hand, he brought her toward him again, drawing her inexorably closer when she attempted to resist. He bent his head; she felt the heat of his mouth scorching her lips, ruthlessly grinding them apart for his tongue to enter and probe, while his hand in seductive exploration found and cupped her breast, tightly pinching the nipple to raise it to the hardness of desire. His dressing gown had come wide open, and the only barrier between his naked frame and hers was the filmy material of her nightgown.
Adam said, stepping away from her, 'Let's get rid of this encumbrance,' and before she had time to dart away, he had flicked at the ribbon she had pulled and was drawing the nightgown down from her shoulders. It fell around her feet, and he lifted her out of it, his strong fingers beneath her arms, his palms like fire against her breasts.
His dressing gown was just as quickly discarded, and Jill was in his arms again, his hands on her back sliding with lingering sensuality to flatten on her soft flesh, the fingers curling to enable him to take her weight as he arched her body toward him. His lips nibbled tenderly at her earlobes and the throbbing pulse in her throat, and he whispered throaty Greek endearments to her. Her body shuddered in response to his stimulation and her breath caught on a tiny sob because she knew she was lost. Her husband's hands were surprisingly gentle on hers as they lifted them to his shoulders, to hold them there, enclosed in warmth for a moment before putting them around his neck.
Her fingers automatically caressed his nape, exploring inexpertly to find sensitive places, until finally she thrust them into his hair, clutching it in a feverish outlet for emotions that were driving her to the point of complete surrender.
'Well,' he whispered in a throaty bass tone, 'do I have rights ...?'
'Yes, Adam....' She lifted her face. The parted lips, moistly glistening, were offered in supplication and taken in triumph, his kiss more primitive, more masterful than any that had gone before, and when at last he released her mouth, it was swollen and bruised and her senses were reeling, the riotous confusion of pulses and nerves robbing her of the power of thought. She clung to his shoulders, her naked body warm and pliant, while his hands continued to explore and caress until she felt drugged and helpless and craving her own fulfillment.
'Let me take a good look at you, my beautiful wife. . . .' His throaty accents were the prelude to an appraisal of her body as he held her at arm's length, his dark, brooding eyes devouring every delicate line and curve, the pearly lobes above a slender waist, the agitated rise and fall of her stomach. A hand left her shoulder to enclose her breast, stroking gently and teasingly across the nipple.
Jill closed her eyes, a little moan of complete surrender issuing from her lips. 'Don't tempt me any more Adam ... I-love me instead.'
A low, triumphant laugh was his only response for a full minute as he continued to tantalise—with his mouth, his tongue and the roving explorations that set every sensual nerve aflame, driving her crazy with desire for him. 'Adam ... please....' He swung her up, his hands intimate and arrogant, letting her know who was master. She stared up into his dark face, then closed her eyes and turned her head into his shoulder, her whole being lost in the sensual torpor of her own desperate need.
He set her on the bed, and then she reached out to clutch his shoulders, pulling him down with urgent fingers. She felt the wild pulsing of his heart above her, the fire of his lips on her throat, heard his groans of pleasure mingling with her own when at length the volcanic outlet of their passion consumed them both.
Jill awoke to the song of birds and the sigh of the breeze in the foliage of the palms, the slender graceful fronds that swayed against a cloudless sapphire sky. The drapes were wide, and she lay there, deliberately ignoring the face on the pillow to her left. But she was vitally aware of the warm naked body lying full length against her, and the arm flung across her stomach, and eventually she did turn her head, hot blood rushing to her cheeks at the memory of last night when her husband's violent lovemaking had effaced all rational thought and she had been transported to the very heights of rapture.
A sigh escaped her. It was reasonable to assume that from now on Adam would insist on a normal relationship, the kind he had suggested and wanted but in which she had refused to take part. Well, it had been forced upon her, and she could not foresee any hope of escape until the marriage came to an end. Escape.... Did she want to escape? Raising herself, she leant on one elbow and stared broodingly into the face of her husband, living again the events of last night, admitting that all her inhibitions had dissolved as she responded to his violent, heated lovemaking in a way she would never have imagined possible.
She felt richer for the experience even while bitterly resenting Adam's intention of taking her by force. He had meant to have her, to dominate her with his strength, to reduce her to complete surrender with the finesse he had acquired from previous experience. Yes, he was the perfect lover, giving as much as he took. Jill's eyes flickered as he moved, and she glanced away, ashamed of the sudden dart of expectancy, the leaping of a pulse ... the hope that Adam would insist on making love to her again....
But he had turned, and she slid from the bed, hastening to the chair on which her robe lay. When she returned from a shower, the bed was empty. She stood there, her brown eyes pensive, her mind alive to the admission she had been forced to make-that she was now bound to her husband by a physical attraction for which she despised herself. She wanted him, desperately, knew she would look forward eagerly to another night of love even while knowing that 'love' was not the right word at all, simply because there was nothing spiritual in Adam's part of their pact.
He had said that life was a strain for them both, meaning, of course, that he, being a healthy virile male, needed satisfaction. She had given for love, he for relief. She shivered, feeling as if sharp icicles w
ere torturing her, piercing her heart. A tear glistened on her lashes, and she brushed it away, determinedly turning her thoughts to Gilbert and the relationship that had been developing so smoothly, with both of them conscious of pleasurable enjoyment of the present and, perhaps, of the future as well. With Adam there was no future; their marriage had been planned to last until his mother died, and would certainly last no longer. Surely she was entitled to one friend on whom to rely?
Adam was on the verandah when she entered the breakfast room, and he turned, his eyes hooded lazily as they wandered over her in a long appraisal. She was wearing a white linen sundress, short and crisp, with midnight-blue embroidery at the waist and hem.
'Good morning, Jill,' he greeted. 'You look very smart.' There seemed to be a veiled quality in his words, and Jill looked inquiringly at him as she stepped from the room to the verandah, to stand a short distance from him. 'Thank you,' she returned briefly, her appreciative eyes taking in his immaculate appearance, for although he was in denims and an open-necked shirt, he looked inordinately distinguished and handsome. He bore that air of confidence and authority which had impressed her at first and which had now become familiar.
'Are you going to spend a few hours with Mother this morning?' His dark brown eyes moved to her hair, gleaming like chestnuts in the sunlight. She looked squarely at him.
'I usually visit her for an hour or so in the afternoon. However, I shan't be going today.'
Adam's eyes narrowed. 'And what do you propose to do this morning?'
She now understood the veiled quality she had heard in his voice. He had known she was dressed to meet Gilbert, and was annoyed about it.
'Why the sudden interest?' she heard herself asking, depression sweeping over her at the idea of friction building up between them after the rapturous harmony of last night. True, it was only physical, but there had been no room for disunity between them then.
'Don't ask absurd questions,' he admonished. 'You know very well that I'm not going to allow you to spend all your time with this man Gilbert. You're bound to be seen, and it's inevitable that my mother will hear of it. She's going to be made even more unhappy than she was before.'
Jill's chin had lifted at the word 'allow'; anger had surged up in her, and the rest of what he said had scarcely registered. 'Adam, please don't adopt the domineering-husband attitude with me. You and I made a pact-which has been broken in part....' She coloured painfully, lowering her lashes and falling silent for a second or two. 'The rest of the promises are obviously still in force, each of us having to keep to them.' Her voice was cool and steady, but in her heart there was pain. Why should she be standing here arguing when all she wanted was to go to him and put her arms around him, to kiss away his anger? Yet this stand was in the nature of self-preservation; she needed to go out with Gilbert, for if she stayed here at the villa, she would spend the entire day brooding over her unhappy state.
It struck her that she was using Gilbert in a way that was not quite fair, yet on the other hand, she knew that at the back of her mind there was hope that by some miracle what she felt for Adam would fade, that somewhere along the line her head would begin to rule her heart and guide her safely across the obstacle which her love for Adam presented as she strove for happiness.
'You have obligations, Jill.' Adam's voice recalled her, and she looked at him, noting the rigid profile, the thin line of his mouth. 'When I made the pact with you, this kind of situation never occurred to me.'
'If it had, you'd have inserted conditions?' Jill's voice was tart in spite of herself. 'Of course.'
'But I could still have gone back on my word.'
'I'd not have let you!'
'But you went back on yours, Adam,' she reminded him quietly, but if she hoped to disconcert him, she was disappointed. His voice held no apology as he said, 'As to that, Jill, you enjoyed it equally as much as I ... and you're not only resigned to the change in our relationship but you're quite happy about it.' In his voice there was a satirical challenge which was reflected in his expression as his dark eyes settled on her flushed face. 'Don't deny it, Jill,' he advised, 'because I'll know you're lying.'
Her colour heightened even more, and she turned from him, her eyes falling automatically to the hand that rested on the verandah rail-her left hand-with the plain gold band gleaming in the sunlight. She frowned and looked away to where the trailing bougainvillaea vines wove themselves through the trellis to scramble over the roof supports of the verandah, providing welcome shade while flaunting their glorious shades of crimson, orange and magenta.
In other parts of the immaculate gardens the bougainvillaea trailed along ornamental walls, or mingled with the flaring hibiscus blossoms which formed a long hedge separating the formal garden from the perivoli, where the fruits of lemons and clementines shone like Christmas lanterns nestling in polished green foliage. A little quivering sigh escaped her, for, profoundly appreciative of the beauty surrounding her, she could not help feeling deep regret at the thought of leaving it.
'I see that you have no intention of denying it.' Adam's voice cut into her reverie, and she turned with a frown, his easy, urbane manner riling her. 'I see now that I ought to have taken you sooner,' he went on when she did not speak. 'You might not then have turned to this other man.'
'I didn't turn to him for anything other than companionship!' she retorted angrily. 'But you've admitted that the affair's serious.'
'It is serious, but that doesn't mean that we've ... we've ... Oh, let's not discuss Gilbert and me! We're spending the day together, and that's final!'
For a moment it did seem that he would lose his temper, but to Jill's surprise he turned away, and her mind carried the conviction that he was suppressing an urge to dictate to her, to adopt a proprietorial attitude, and she thought with a little flush of dejection that it would have been the most natural thing for her to accept it if only he loved her. Fleetingly, painfully, her mind wandered to Julia, and she wondered if, when she and Adam were married, they would eventually fall in love with each other. Jill could not conceive of any girl living with Adam and remaining immune to his attractions as a man.
He had everything, even that certain degree of arrogance which is an essential facet of supreme masculinity.
'You're determined to flout my wishes?' Adam's question came at last, and Jill guessed at his reluctance to admit defeat, to accept his inability to dictate her actions.
'As regards my association with Gilbert, yes.'
He seemed to grit his teeth, but his voice was quietly controlled as he said, 'Then all I ask is that you be discreet. Keep well away from this area. Where are you meeting him?'
'He's coming here-at least, I'm to meet him at the entrance gates.'
'I'm not having it,' he declared, looking fixedly at her. 'You have obligations, and you'll observe them!' She nodded, unwilling to argue with him on this particular matter simply because she fully appreciated his anxiety. 'Very well, Adam, I'll do as you say. I'll phone Gilbert after breakfast and arrange to meet him in a quiet car park we know of in town. It's at the back of a hotel. I expect I can get a bus—'
'There's no need,' he broke in tersely. 'I happen to be going into town, and I'll drop you there.'
Chapter Six
As arranged, Jill met Gilbert at the car park, but he naturally wanted to know a little more about the reason for the change in plans.
She explained, and he nodded understandingly. 'We shall have to be very careful, then.' He was at the wheel of the hired car, his alert eyes on the road ahead, where three donkeys were ambling along, tied together by a rope held by their owner, a bent old man wearing black vraga, which, Jill noticed as the car came close behind him, were thick with ochre-coloured dust collected from the unpaved road. It was an idyllic morning with a bright azure sky and dazzling sunshine, and in the hedgerows flowers smouldered-oleanders and hibiscus and the lovely golden cassias. Leaving the man and his donkeys behind, they climbed into the hills, where the scenery was
wilder and the streams more swift-flowing, their crystal waters tumbling over rocks or dancing round deep dark potholes ground into the riverbed by the wearing activities of pebbles over countless aeons of time.
They stopped at a little roadside cafeneion and Gilbert parked the car under the shade of a carob tree. The cafe tables were on a vine-covered patio and they lingered there, drinking coffee and chatting.
'Are you enjoying it?' Gilbert seemed faintly anxious, she thought, and she smiled at once to reassure him. 'Very much, Gilbert. It's such a lovely day.' She spoke the truth when she said she was enjoying it, but her undisciplined mind kept on wandering, to her husband, and to the drama of last night, and she wondered what Gilbert would have to say if she were to reveal to him the fact that Adam had insisted that their relationship become normal.
She felt he would be both shocked and upset, that he might feel cheated simply because he had been assured that the marriage was nothing more than a business contract between two people who had nothing in common. She supposed that if the affair between her and Gilbert did become serious to the point that they decided to marry, then she would tell him, but not before. Better to cross her bridges as she came to them, seeing that there was nothing to be gained in doing otherwise.
'Do you want to buy anything?' he asked later, when they arrived at a small town where there were shops and a tavern where they could have a lunch of local food.
'No, nothing,' she answered, smiling. 'But what about you? Have you any souvenirs to buy?'
'Yes, for my sisters, but I haven't any ideas.'
He looked at her with a wry expression on his good-humoured face. 'Can you suggest anything, Jill?'
'It just depends on whether you favour the local products or those imported especially for the tourist trade.'
'Local, I think.'