The Second Wife

by Sheryl Browne

  ‘He’s not complaining, Mother,’ she said, her smile more of a grimace as she collected up her handbag. She’d been feeling guilty that she hadn’t seen much of Lydia since extracting herself from her first marriage. Now she remembered why she hadn’t.

  ‘He’s treating you well then?’ Lydia enquired, clinking the cup into the saucer as Nicole turned to the door.

  ‘If you mean is he abusive, then no, he’s not.’ Nicole didn’t turn around. She doubted she would be able to hide her contempt, given the indifference of that comment. ‘He’s kind and attentive, and extremely loving,’ she imparted, getting some satisfaction as Lydia’s cup clinked loudly this time. Her heart fell, though, as she wished there was a little more loving in their relationship. The truth was, they’d hardly dared to touch each other since coming back from their disastrous honeymoon, for fear of Olivia overhearing. With Olivia seemingly prone to asthma attacks whenever Bouncer was in the vicinity, Nicole had taken to keeping their house so clean you actually could eat your dinner off the floor. Richard clearly didn’t feel relaxed there, and had taken to working longer hours, but Nicole was damned if she was going to make Bouncer sleep in the garage, which she’d given up working in, as the light was so poor. And she would most definitely not take him back to the rescue centre, which she was sure was Olivia’s aim. Nicole hated herself for thinking it, especially when faced with Olivia’s wheezing and panting, but she did wonder, particularly since she always seemed to make such a fuss of Wanderer, whether some of her symptoms weren’t feigned.

  She didn’t dare suggest that, though. As she’d promised herself she would, she was biding her time instead, praying Olivia would get one of the many jobs she was applying for and leave. Or else that she would do something that would tear the scales from Richard’s eyes. Meanwhile, God help her, Nicole was becoming so fastidious about cleanliness that she was in danger of turning into her mother.

  ‘You should bring him round,’ Lydia suggested.

  ‘Yes, possibly,’ Nicole said, picking up her jacket, which she’d amazingly gotten away with not hanging up, from the arm of the sofa. Not, she thought.

  ‘I’d like to meet him, Nicole,’ Lydia said, as she headed for the hall and the front door. ‘I know you don’t think I care, but I do. I would like to see you settled with a good man before I die.’

  That stopped Nicole in her tracks. ‘Maybe,’ she said, ridiculous tears pricking her eyes. ‘I’ll mention it to him.’

  Should she bring him, she wondered, letting herself out. While she wasn’t sure she wanted Richard to meet Lydia, who would no doubt embarrass her in his presence – hinting that if only she’d given the misogynist children, forgetting the child he’d caused her to lose, then her husband would have been happy and fulfilled – she would like her mother to see that a normal, kind man thought her worthy of his love. That it didn’t come with a caveat that she attend his every whim, no matter how demeaning or painful. That she had to change who she fundamentally was.

  She was pondering whether to mention her visit that evening when Richard came home. He looked tired. Nicole knew the tension between Olivia and her was stressful, but she wished he would come home more. ‘Hi.’ She smiled, switching the vacuum off.

  Richard offered her a small smile in return. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Still at it, I see.’ He nodded at the vacuum.

  ‘Dogs’ hairs,’ Nicole explained, as the furry culprits who’d had the effrontery to shed them bounded from the kitchen to greet him.

  His look turning from one of patient resignation to pleased, Richard bent to give them a fuss. Both of them, Nicole noticed, reminded why she loved him. He was everything the misogynist hadn’t been: a caring man who was trying to do his best for everyone around him. He loved Bouncer as much as she did. He would never see any harm come to him. He was simply trying to do his best. He believed his daughter had been attacked, in the worst possible way, and he had to be there for her, as any good, loving father should be. He was trying to be there for her, too – Nicole knew he was. It was tearing him apart. She needed to reach out to him, be there for him, even if meant tolerating the situation with Olivia a little longer.

  ‘Good day?’ she asked him.

  ‘Busy.’ He smiled wearily. ‘You?’

  ‘An odd one,’ Nicole admitted, parking the vacuum under the stairs. Any hairs she’d missed would have to wait until morning. Olivia had gone out, which she rarely did, bypassing Nicole with barely an acknowledgement. She’d been on the phone to Lydia at the time, checking that she’d eaten something. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find cause to have an asthma attack when she got back tonight. ‘I decided to go and see my mother.’

  ‘Oh?’ Depositing his briefcase on the floor and shrugging out of his jacket, Richard eyed her curiously, as he would, knowing that she and her mother didn’t exactly get on.

  ‘She’s not well, so I’m thinking I might have to see a bit more of her. Not that I particularly want to.’

  ‘She needs care then?’ Richard asked, following her through to the sitting room.

  ‘More keeping an eye on, really,’ Nicole said, going to the drinks table to fix him a whisky and herself a large wine, which she felt she’d earned. ‘She had a fall. She couldn’t get out to the shops and she hasn’t been eating properly.’

  ‘Couldn’t she shop online?’ Richard suggested, accepting the whisky gratefully.

  ‘She doesn’t have a laptop.’ Nicole said, with a roll of her eyes.

  Richard looked surprised at that.

  ‘Technology passed her by a bit, sadly. She didn’t work,’ Nicole explained. Having a job, in her father’s estimation, would have meant his wife having a life of her own, and possibly even an opinion, which would have been intolerable. ‘I’m organising some home help for her, someone to cook her meals and do a bit of cleaning, but I think I’ll have to pop in now and then until she’s on her feet.’

  ‘And are you okay with that?’ Richard asked, a concerned frown crossing his face, reminding her again that she had a good man, one she intended to hold on to, despite his daughter.

  Nicole took a gulp of her wine, feeling nervous about mentioning that Lydia had invited him to visit. She didn’t want to put him on the spot, and she’d hardly painted a picture of her mother as someone he would particularly want to meet. Plus, he was so very busy with work. ‘She asked about you,’ she said lightly. ‘She said she’d quite like to meet you.’

  Richard swished his drink contemplatively around his glass. ‘Do you want her to meet me?’ he asked, his expression uncertain as he looked back at her.

  Nicole was taken aback. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to show you off. What woman wouldn’t want to? You’re gorgeous and generous and caring and…’ She trailed off, thinking she might be overdoing it a bit.

  Richard mouth twitched into a smile. ‘You forgot sexy.’

  ‘And that.’ Taking in the toned, tanned length and breadth of him, temptingly packaged in his grey business suit, Nicole sighed wistfully. ‘Definitely that.’

  Richard took a step towards her, placing his glass down on the long chrome and glass coffee table, which had been meticulously dusted. Studying it for second, he turned his attention back to her, his expression troubled. ‘So, you do still find me desirable then?’

  What? Nicole’s eyes boggled at that.

  ‘It’s just that… Well, you know, you seem to have been keeping your distance, and I thought that maybe you… didn’t.’ He stopped, shrugging awkwardly.

  Incredulous, Nicole stared at him. ‘Are you mad?’ She laughed. ‘I thought that you didn’t want to. With what happened with Olivia, I mean, and her being here.’

  Still, he looked unsure. A man like him, who knew exactly how to please a woman? Nicole could hardly believe it. ‘I desire you so much, I’m about to explode with frustration,’ she said.

  Clearly confounded, Richard studied her for a second, and then his mouth curved into a deliciously slow smile. ‘In which case, I think
I might need to do something to help you release it,’ he said, his eyes gliding over her body before coming to rest meaningfully on hers. ‘It may require the removal of certain items of clothing. Shall we?’ He nodded towards the bedrooms.

  Nicole felt nervous, ridiculously, as he followed her upstairs. It wasn’t yet dark, and she preferred no light – or, at least, subdued light. She still wasn’t sure she was ready to reveal all of herself in broad daylight. How on earth was she going to undress right in front of him?

  Richard didn’t give her the chance to ponder her dilemma for too long. Closing the door behind her and sliding across the lock, he moved purposefully towards her, yanking off his tie, popping buttons and tugging his shirt over his head as he did.

  His eyes growing purposeful, he reached out and slid the straps of her dress slowly over her shoulders, then the straps of her bra. Nicole caught a breath in her throat as he slid the garments further down, exposing her breasts. Instinctively, she moved to wrap her arms about herself.

  He caught them, lowering them back to her sides. ‘Don’t hide yourself, Nicole,’ he said softly. ‘Never be embarrassed in the company of a man. You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman.’ He cupped her face in his hand. Nicole turned her cheek to his touch, her desire spiking as he dragged a thumb over her lower lip.

  ‘Your face, your body… you’re beautiful,’ he assured her, sweeping his gaze down over her then looking back at her, a flash of heat now in his eyes.

  She held her breath as he peeled her clothes further down, freeing first one foot of the restricting garments and then the other. Wordlessly, he kissed his way back up her body. Then, his eyes on hers, a smouldering intensity now therein, he stood and guided her towards the bed, taking hold of her arms and urging her to lie down. ‘Beautiful,’ he repeated, his gaze never moving from hers as he eased her legs apart. Nicole wasn’t beautiful, she knew that, but seeing herself through his eyes, she almost believed that she was.

  Lowering himself over her, he scanned her face, as if looking for confirmation. Then, finding what he needed, he pressed himself into her, thrusting deeply. And again. Slowly increasing the pace, building the momentum, until he felt so incredibly deep, he filled her to the brim. She felt full, physically and emotionally. She whimpered as he picked up the tempo, thrusting still deeper and deeper, with fast, sure strokes. She wanted him to. She needed him to.

  Nicole undulated under him, raising her hips to meet him, matching him, thrust for thrust, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth, biting his lips, breathing into him. Dragging her fingernails down his back. Her muscles clenching around him in one flowing contraction, her climax exploded with such ferocity that she sobbed out his name.

  His eyes smouldering above her, Richard thrust one last time, and then, with a throaty moan, he came. She felt his release. Felt a drop of sweat fall on to her forehead. His breathing was ragged. He closed his eyes, exhaling hard, his beautiful dark eyelashes brushing his cheeks.

  ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I, er… It was a bit rushed.’ He smiled and kissed her eyelashes. ‘We’ll take it more slowly next time.’

  ‘It was perfect,’ she assured him, revelling in the novelty of climaxing with a man, let alone a man who cared whether she did.

  Richard laughed. ‘Roll over on your side,’ he said, the mischievous glint back in his eye as he lay down beside her. ‘Tuck that gorgeous bottom into me and I’ll be ready to go again in no time.’

  ‘You’re bad, Richard Gray,’ Nicole scolded, turning to nestle into him. Bliss, she thought, wanting to preserve these few precious moments before Olivia came home.

  ‘I know,’ Richard said, finding her ear under her mad mess of hair and brushing it with his lips. ‘See what you do to me?’

  ‘I thought we were spooning,’ Nicole said after a second, realising he was perched on his elbow, studying her.

  ‘We are.’ Richard settled back behind her, encircling her waist and pulling her close. ‘I was just wondering about your mother.’

  ‘Oh.’ Nicole’s blissful contentment evaporated. ‘What about her?’

  ‘I’m sensing you’re worried about her,’ Richard said thoughtfully. ‘You hardly ever mention her normally.’

  Nicole was quiet for a minute. Then, ‘She looks very frail,’ she admitted, her guilt that she hadn’t visited her more often resurfacing, though she wasn’t certain she should feel that way.

  Richard kissed her shoulder. ‘Not good news,’ he said.

  ‘No.’ Nicole sighed, lightly tracing the hairs on the arm he had wrapped tightly around her. ‘She said she wanted to meet you before she died.’

  Richard squeezed her tighter. ‘I’m sorry, Nicole,’ he offered. ‘That must be difficult, particularly with unresolved issues between you.’

  Nicole nodded. ‘It is. Do you think I should see her?’

  Richard hesitated. ‘I think you have good reason not to want to, but, to be honest, I don’t think you would be able to live with yourself if you didn’t.’

  He knew her so well. Nicole marvelled at how comfortable she felt right now. She wished it could always be this way. That Olivia would go away and live her own life. She was young, but Nicole really did feel as if she didn’t want her father to have a life. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Be kind to yourself, though, Nicole. Don’t let yourself be emotionally manipulated by her.’ Richard warned. ‘You should take the opportunity to make sure her affairs are in order, too.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about that,’ Nicole said pensively.

  ‘I didn’t think you had, being so selfless.’ Richard sighed, pseudo-despairingly. ‘You might feel you’re being mercenary, but it’s actually pragmatic, if you think about it. Long-term care costs money. As well as which, in my estimation she owes you.’

  He was right. Nicole had told herself she didn’t care if her mother left her money to some obscure charity, but she supposed she did. It would confirm that Lydia didn’t care about her at all. Then there was the issue of the cost of care. ‘She has plenty,’ she said. If her father had done nothing else for Lydia, he’d left her well provided for. ‘And her house is worth a fair amount.’ At least five hundred thousand, Nicole thought. The Georgian property was desperately in need of refurbishment, but still, it would fetch a tidy sum. Enough to make sure Lydia was comfortable if she should need more care.

  ‘Let me know if you need help finding someone to organise her estate,’ Richard said, pressing a light kiss against her hair. ‘You’ll need someone who’s trustworthy.’

  Normally Nicole wouldn’t dream of texting someone regarding her love life, but Becky was her best friend, and probably the only person in the world who would understand why her heart was beginning to feel whole again.

  Dear lovely Becky, all is well! We made love! Spectacularly! Richard’s currently downstairs fetching some chilled wine, so I’ll keep this short. Just wanted to reassure you that he’s there for me. He was as confused as I was about the distance between us. And as desperate, it seems. Hope you’re okay, my lovely. We have to meet up soon! Much love, Nicole. X

  Becky texted smartly back: Dearest Nicole. Did he live up to expectations?

  Yes. And he’s about to live up to them again shortly.

  Go easy on him. xxx

  TWENTY-TWO

  REBECCA

  PRESENT

  Rebecca closed her eyes as he pulled her towards him. His kiss was urgent this time – deeper, more sensual. His hands were in her hair, gliding down her back, everywhere.

  Rebecca caught a gasp in her throat. With Nicole barely cold in her grave, she’d wanted to know how far he would go. She’d been testing him, searching for facets of his character that would… what? Cause a woman to slide into such a deep depression that she would take her own life? Nicole had been stronger than that. She’d grown stronger. There had to be more – something above and beyond the familial feud she was aware of. She’d baited him, wanting him to make a move on her se
xually, needing to know what his next move would be; whether he was what Nicole had so quaintly termed a ‘gigolo’. But now she was in dangerous waters. She wanted him. Wanted this. It was as if the electric charge between them had ignited something primal inside her. Her breasts tingled in anticipation as he traced her neck with his lips, his hands now sliding the straps of her swimsuit over her shoulders. She had to stay in control. She had to go through with this on order to establish whether his seduction of women had an agenda, but she couldn’t allow her emotions to become embroiled, no matter how perfect a front he presented. And if he was what he seemed, what then? She would find out. She had to.

  ‘Not here,’ she whispered, her voice tinged with fear, of being discovered, of this.

  Richard scanned her face, his expression a mixture of frustration and obvious relief that she hadn’t said ‘not at all’.

  ‘There.’ He nodded towards the pool house, which wasn’t particularly spacious but was situated away from the main house and therefore adequate for purpose.

  Taking her by the hand, he led her that way. Checking over his shoulder, clearly as concerned as she that they might be seen, he guided her in before him, closed and locked the door, pulled the blind and flicked on the light. Then he turned, his eyes dark and intense as he swept his gaze over her. Wordlessly, he stepped towards her, one hand going behind her head, his fingers entwined in her damp hair, the other tugging aside restricting clothing as he urged her back against the cold tiles of the wall.

  With his hands cupping her face, his kiss was tender yet possessive. She smelled sweat and chlorine, felt the nearness of him, the firmness of his flesh overwhelming her senses. His tongue found hers as he pressed himself closer. Did he have no sense of guilt at all? Of shame? Did she?