Painted the Other Woman by Julia James

Author:Julia James [James, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780263891195
Google: Y0Dz5l41uwQC
Amazon: B008RW8E4C
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

MARISA sat in the taxi heading from Heathrow into central London. She looked out of the window at the bleak view beyond of the outskirts of London encased in winter’s drear grip. A million miles away from the caressing warmth of the Caribbean. The grim landscape echoed the feeling inside her. In her lap, her fingers clutched each other tightly. At her side Athan had got out his laptop and was frowning at the screen, his face closed. He was only a foot or two away from her—and yet much, much further.

Tightness gripped her. She knew what was coming. Knew it with a deep, stricken sense of dread—of impending loss. Knew exactly what was going to happen. It was what she had feared would happen. He was going to escort her back to her apartment and then, in whatever way he deemed appropriate, he was going to tell her that he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

The knot in her stomach tightened and her heart slugged heavily in her chest. She tried to blot out her thoughts, tried only to stare out of the window, not thinking, not feeling.

But thoughts came all the same. Of course Athan had been all over her while they were on holiday! Of course she had been the entire focus of his attention, the intensity of his desire for her would be his whole purpose. But it was only a holiday—that was what she had to remember. Nothing more than a holiday. He’d seen her, wanted her—got her. Not in any kind of exploitative way—she could never accuse him of that—but his interest in her was temporary. Inherently so. They had had a fabulous time together—but now it was over.

Time to move on.

The knot in her stomach clenched. That was the thing—he wanted to move on. She … she only longed for him not to. Longed for him to want to keep her in his life.

I don’t want to lose him, I don’t want to never see him again. I don’t want it to be over!

But her wants were not going to come into it.

That was what she had to face. What she dreaded facing.

The taxi came off the flyover, threading down into the streets of London, making its way towards Shepherd’s Bush, Holland Park, the street she lived on. It drew up at the apartment block. The moment it stopped she got out, shivering in the sunless cold air, acrid with the scent of the city. Athan was paying the driver, picking up their suitcases. Politely he ushered her inside and they made for the lifts. She gave another little shiver.

‘It’s so cold after the Caribbean,’ she said, as if attempting a light remark.

Athan only smiled briefly but said nothing, not looking at her.

He would be steeling himself for his speech, she knew. How many times had he given it before? How many other women had he whisked away to paradise and then returned to earth, bidding them farewell and walking away? She felt her emotions clench, her insides hollow.

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