Two Faced Woman by Lucy Gordon

Author:Lucy Gordon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1995-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

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Debbie went home by taxi. For the first part of the journey she was madly scribbling notes of everything Lucky had spilled in his fury. When she’d finished she looked out the rear window, but there was no sign of pursuit. Inwardly she was singing with triumph. It had worked.

Once in her apartment she plunged into the shower, luxuriating in the feeling of the clean water laving her as she washed off the heat and smoke of the nightclub, the tension, the pressure of hate and anger and male hands grabbing. They’d sickened her but she’d gone through with it to the end. Each nerve had been alert during that outrageous song and she’d had the impression of seeing everything at once: the lustful faces of the men she was inciting, Lucky’s look of suppressed rage.

But there’d been something else, more than all these, that had burned into her consciousness. Jake’s expression had been that of a man in agony; not merely disgust at seeing her play the coquette, but horror and fear for the consequences, fear for her.

She remembered how he’d been in her bed, fierce and powerful yet sometimes unexpectedly tender. He was a man to whom tenderness didn’t come easily, but it was there, waiting for the right woman to bring it out. Their second lovemaking had been sweeter than the first. They knew each other by then, with the deep, wordless understanding of the flesh, knew that they could risk discarding their wariness and trusting each other.

Thinking of him was making her dizzy. Every pore of her was alive with memory. If only he would come to her now. Their lovemaking had slaked her passion only briefly. Before that she’d wanted him, but in ignorance. Now there was a new deprivation, deeper than ever because it grew out of knowledge. He’d made her body complete, and now incompleteness was unbearable.

The soap slipped through her fingers. She made a grab, missed it and shrugged. Suds poured down her in streams as the water rinsed her and she gave a sigh of pure physical delight. At last she was finished. She turned off the water and reached out for the shower door. At that moment her foot found the missing soap. She slithered, clutching frantically, still half-blinded by water, unable to save herself. The collision with the tiled wall was like a fist punching her head.

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