graham - veranchetti - marriage by lynne

Author:lynne [lynne, lynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2013-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

KERRY slid out of bed, irritably pushing her hair off her damp brow. A tide of dizziness went over her and she groaned. It was the heat. Alex would die laughing if he saw her like this. Hot, harassed, sleepless. She curled up in the basketwork chair by the tall window. It was their fifth day on the island. From dawn to dusk, Alex had been charm personified. He had broken the ice, in spite of her determination to remain aloof. Somehow .... heaven knew how, her sharp, defensive retorts had begun to seem petty. They were talking now without fighting. Of course not about anything in particular. Safe things. Nicky, the house in Florence, his business interests.

Her fingers rubbed at her tense neck muscles. She had changed. She had changed from the moment Vickie told her the truth. An inner strength had been reborn, a surge of returning self-respect. It shook her to admit that for four years she hadn't really cared about anything but Nicky. She had just gone through the motions, even in business, content to believe herself independent of Alex, but too apathetic to employ the effort of will required to lick Steven into shape. She could have made a go of Antique Fayre. Instead, she had let it limp along, and now there would never be another chance to prove her own mettle.

Last night they had attended a wedding in the village as honoured guests, and amid the jubilant mayhem of the celebration Alex had caught her to him, amber eyes rampant with impatience. 'When ... hmm?' he had muttered. 'Why pretend? Deep down inside you must know what you want. Or perhaps you want to be told.'

The chauvinist emerged around nightfall. Alex wasn't accustomed to waiting for anything he desired. His restraint over the last few days had been sheathed in a sardonic indulgence. The sexual charge in the atmosphere was like an electric current. After all he had done to her, how could she still want him?

The sight of Alex in a pair of low-slung, tight-fitting shorts and nothing else was lethal enough to stop her in her tracks. And he knew it. The torment was like a knot jerking a little tighter every day. She couldn't sleep because she ached for him. It infuriated her, it outraged her pride, but she couldn't deny it. Alex brought her alive as no other man ever had. An unholy and primitive pleasure sent her pulses leaping when he came close.

The clear, moonlit night beyond the glass was dancing dark reflections on the shimmering surface of the pool. It was three in the morning. Everybody would be asleep. The water glimmered a silent invitation. Leaving her room, she let herself out on to the terrace. It was the impulse of a moment to shed her nightdress and slide soundlessly down into the gloriously cool depths. With a sigh of relief she floated on to her back.

Alex would find himself a mistress. She could hug her inviolability to the grave.

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