is morning, as it happens.'
'Daylight, then, if we're playing games with words,' Alison said
shortly, plucking at the edge of the concealing sheet with restless
fingers.
'We're not playing games at all.' Nick seated himself on the edge of
the bunk. 'I came here to discuss a serious matter with you—a matter
of business.'
Alison wetted her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue. 'Can't it
wait? I'm tired now. I can't think straight at this time of night.'
'You don't need to think too hard.' His voice sounded cool and level. 'I
came to ask if you would consider—amending the terms of our
contract.'
The breath seemed to stop short in her lungs. She couldn't look at
him. Instead she stared down, as if mesmerised, at the hem-stitched
edge of the sheet. She began, 'I don't think I understand--'
'And I think you do,' Nick said quietly. 'When we made our bargain,
we were strangers. I feel that's no longer the case. There's no reason
why we shouldn't—re-think the situation.'
Alison found her voice from somewhere. 'We had an agreement…'
'Indeed we had,' he said drily. 'But circumstances—change. And so,
for God's sake, can minds. We're not obliged to restrict our
relationship, after all.'
'Unless we wish,' she said quickly. 'And I don't want to change
everything. You said you'd leave me alone—you promised.'
He shrugged again. 'You made all kinds of promises too, darling, in
church in front of witnesses. I'm sure I don't have to remind you what
they were. The words may be old-fashioned, but they were singularly
telling, all the same. All to do with loving and honouring and
obeying.'
Her small breasts rose and fell under the rapid, shallow rush of her
breathing, is that what you want? My—obedience?'
'Not particularly.' His tone held a kind of wry impatience. 'Especially
if it can be roughly translated as passive submission and resentment.
But it need not be like that, and I think you know it.' He put out a hand
and cupped her slender neck, sliding his thumb along the delicate line
of her collarbone. His voice softened. 'Alison, if you'd let me, I think I
could make you happy.'
Her teeth ground into the soft flesh inside her lower lip. 'I'm happy
already, thank you. I have everything I want—my home, and security
for my family. I don't need anything else.'
There was a silence, then he said, 'And are your needs the only ones to
be considered in all this?'
'Why, what's the matter?' she asked bitterly, is even a month's
celibacy too much for you to take?' She couldn't resist the jibe, but as
soon as it was uttered she regretted it.
The caressing fingers stilled suddenly, and even in the shadowy light
she could see the hardening of his face, the swift curl of his firm
mouth. 'Congratulations, sweetheart,' he drawled. 'How clever of you
to guess! So—are you going to—assuage my desires, like a dutiful
wife should?'
She muttered between her teeth, 'I'll see you in hell first!'
Nick's laugh was soft, but without amusement. 'Harsh words, darling,
which I'm tempted to make you eat.' His hand clamped at the back of
her neck, compelling her forward to meet him as he bent towards her.
She began imploringly, 'Please—no ...' then all further protests were
stifled under the bruising fierceness of his mouth on hers.
She'd provoked him and she knew it, so she could not blame him for
the suppressed anger which was dictating his treatment of her,
although it could not prevent the ache in her heart at his lack of
tenderness. And yet, in its way, as she dimly realised, that could be
her salvation too. Because it fired her will to resist, as a gentler
wooing would never have done.
Nick was lowering her back against her pillows, following her down,
muttering something hoarse and hurried in his throat as he did so. The
warm weight of his body against hers was an agonising enticement
that she had to fight at all costs. Deliberately, she relaxed, letting her
body go limp in his
'Daylight, then, if we're playing games with words,' Alison said
shortly, plucking at the edge of the concealing sheet with restless
fingers.
'We're not playing games at all.' Nick seated himself on the edge of
the bunk. 'I came here to discuss a serious matter with you—a matter
of business.'
Alison wetted her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue. 'Can't it
wait? I'm tired now. I can't think straight at this time of night.'
'You don't need to think too hard.' His voice sounded cool and level. 'I
came to ask if you would consider—amending the terms of our
contract.'
The breath seemed to stop short in her lungs. She couldn't look at
him. Instead she stared down, as if mesmerised, at the hem-stitched
edge of the sheet. She began, 'I don't think I understand--'
'And I think you do,' Nick said quietly. 'When we made our bargain,
we were strangers. I feel that's no longer the case. There's no reason
why we shouldn't—re-think the situation.'
Alison found her voice from somewhere. 'We had an agreement…'
'Indeed we had,' he said drily. 'But circumstances—change. And so,
for God's sake, can minds. We're not obliged to restrict our
relationship, after all.'
'Unless we wish,' she said quickly. 'And I don't want to change
everything. You said you'd leave me alone—you promised.'
He shrugged again. 'You made all kinds of promises too, darling, in
church in front of witnesses. I'm sure I don't have to remind you what
they were. The words may be old-fashioned, but they were singularly
telling, all the same. All to do with loving and honouring and
obeying.'
Her small breasts rose and fell under the rapid, shallow rush of her
breathing, is that what you want? My—obedience?'
'Not particularly.' His tone held a kind of wry impatience. 'Especially
if it can be roughly translated as passive submission and resentment.
But it need not be like that, and I think you know it.' He put out a hand
and cupped her slender neck, sliding his thumb along the delicate line
of her collarbone. His voice softened. 'Alison, if you'd let me, I think I
could make you happy.'
Her teeth ground into the soft flesh inside her lower lip. 'I'm happy
already, thank you. I have everything I want—my home, and security
for my family. I don't need anything else.'
There was a silence, then he said, 'And are your needs the only ones to
be considered in all this?'
'Why, what's the matter?' she asked bitterly, is even a month's
celibacy too much for you to take?' She couldn't resist the jibe, but as
soon as it was uttered she regretted it.
The caressing fingers stilled suddenly, and even in the shadowy light
she could see the hardening of his face, the swift curl of his firm
mouth. 'Congratulations, sweetheart,' he drawled. 'How clever of you
to guess! So—are you going to—assuage my desires, like a dutiful
wife should?'
She muttered between her teeth, 'I'll see you in hell first!'
Nick's laugh was soft, but without amusement. 'Harsh words, darling,
which I'm tempted to make you eat.' His hand clamped at the back of
her neck, compelling her forward to meet him as he bent towards her.
She began imploringly, 'Please—no ...' then all further protests were
stifled under the bruising fierceness of his mouth on hers.
She'd provoked him and she knew it, so she could not blame him for
the suppressed anger which was dictating his treatment of her,
although it could not prevent the ache in her heart at his lack of
tenderness. And yet, in its way, as she dimly realised, that could be
her salvation too. Because it fired her will to resist, as a gentler
wooing would never have done.
Nick was lowering her back against her pillows, following her down,
muttering something hoarse and hurried in his throat as he did so. The
warm weight of his body against hers was an agonising enticement
that she had to fight at all costs. Deliberately, she relaxed, letting her
body go limp in his
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