An Evil Kindling by Robyn Sheffield

Author:Robyn Sheffield [Sheffield, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2016-08-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Nobody had made love to Ferret since she and Mac had parted. When sober, he had been a wonderfully considerate lover. Oliver Wyland too, was sensitive to her needs. He climaxed before her, but brought her on, making her gasp at a pleasure almost forgotten.

In the early hours, as rain dashed against the windows, Wyland awoke with a renewed libidinous urge. He had been dreaming - whirling and weightless with her, bound close in the arms of his love - and had to fulfil the sensual gratification the dream had begun. In the blackness of the room, he rolled towards Ferret, found her and began to kiss her neck, then her small firm breasts.

She stirred and sleepily recognizing each voluptuous touch, contentedly surrendered to each caress. She grew hungry for him, welcomed him, was as much afire as he, and came, seconds in advance of him, in pulses of violent ecstatic joy.

'Dear life!' he exclaimed. 'Dear heaven!' Reality and dream merged. In rapturous orgasmic release it brought him gasping: 'Kate! Darling, darling, Kate!'

Ferret froze, then in a rush of anger, pulled herself away. 'You bastard! I don't stand proxy for anyone.' Her hand darted out for the bedside light. 'Look!' she shouted in the sudden brilliance: 'This is me! This is Liz!'

'Liz, I'm… '

She was out of the bed, running for the door. 'I'm taking a shower. Make sure you've gone when I get back.'

She hadn't heard the front door close.

She stood in the centre of the bedroom, looking at the tumbled bed. She hurt: every nerve that Mac had scraped raw, screamed out again. She snatched up her pillow, tugged a blanket from a drawer and stumbled into the sitting room. She poured a whisky, drank it straight off then flung herself and the bedding on to the sofa. If she could manage to sleep at all it had to be here.

*

The phone woke her.

After two hours of tears and tossing, Ferret had eventually dozed.

She was pleased to wake. She was stiff and the dream had been unpleasant.

'Guv! Duty sergeant here. Sorry about the early call.'

"sOK. Trouble?' She reached out to pull back a curtain. The first crack of daylight showed in the eastern sky.

'Message from DS Scott. Green Vale. Suspicious death. Jacob Bisset. Police doc's there and SOCO are on their way.'

'What? Bisset, did you say?'

'Right. What'll be your ETA?'

She squinted, trying to focus through puffy eyes at the carriage clock next to the Jane Austens on the book shelf. 'Twenty-five minutes from now.'

'Noted.'

She walked into the bathroom and plunged her face into cold water.

*

Scott had not stopped to shave. He met her in the corridor outside Bisset's room, scratching a chin black with a good growth of stubble.

'You look gruesome,' Ferret said.

'Thanks.' He noted her red-rimmed eyes, but that could be down to fatigue. 'And you resemble a seen-it-all battlefield waif,' he returned amiably.

'Battlefield's right,' she muttered. 'Who found him?'

'A night-nurse, shortly before the shift changed. He was on the floor, a pillow over his face. She didn't touch anything other than to check for life signs.

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