A Taste of Honey by Iris Leach Page B

of his hand on her skin, she wanted this man with a passion and desire that scared her.
    A back screen door slammed on the other side of the house and its echo swung her back into reality.
    She sat up, stuffing her shirt into her jean top. “I think we need coffee.” What was she doing? Isn’t this what she wanted? Will making love with her?
    What was she so scared of?
    Oh, she’d fallen into the pit of temptation once and once only. There was no way she would ever allow Will to make love to her ever again. My God, she’d end up without a mind of her own, kissing his boots and dribbling over his shirt. She’d become his yes woman. And that’s exactly what the gorgeous but oh so dangerous William Knight wanted.
    Wrong girl, Will. Too shrewd, Will. Too on the ball, Will.
    Her self-talk restored her spirit. She could handle this situation standing on her head. She may love Will Knight deeply but she could resist his attempts to make love to her. Let Will throw cupid arrows her way, she was wearing her steel reinforced underwear.
    She looked up at his face, mute and unreadable. What was Will thinking? What were his feelings? Did he even like her? How could she tell?
    The sad part of it all was she would never know if Will ever really loved her.
    She didn’t know if she could live with that.

Chapter Fourteen
    A dowry or trousseau is the money, goods, or estate that a woman brings to a marriage — it contrasts with bride price, which is paid by the groom to the bride’s parents. Dowry is an ancient custom, and its existence may well predate records of it.
    Charli padded barefoot into the bathroom and filled the bath, throwing in scented salts. She tucked her hair into a shower cap not wanting the steaming water to curl her hair any tighter than its natural curl. She creamed her face while waiting for the bath to fill. She painted her fingernails and toenails with a pale pink nail gloss.
    Slipping out of her bathrobe, she stepped into the hot water.
    The last few weeks had been a whirlwind. Shopping with Ester for her wedding outfit. Meeting his family and friends on a more intimate basis, like lunch or dinner or drinks at the golf club.
    Charli didn’t fail to notice the raised eyebrows at the haste of their marriage. She didn’t care. She was past caring. Let them think how they wished.
    It was the same at work. The quiet acceptance at the beginning was stunned silence and now the gossipmongers were at work and talk spread through the office like wildfire. The story she liked the best, and she’d heard this from Judy, was that she’d had an affair with Malcolm Knight, and was pregnant with his love child. Will was marrying her out of duty and to help raise the next heir to Knight Books.
    Well, they were nearly correct.
    Grabbing the curved edge of the bath with both hands, Charli hoisted herself out of the bath. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe and headed for the bedroom.
    Dropping the robe to the floor, she looked objectively at herself in the mirror. She had a nice body, well-proportioned, not voluptuous but pleasantly rounded. She turned to the side and examined the bump. The tiniest protrusion and a thrill of love and excitement filled her. Will’s baby.
    She donned a tracksuit and padded barefoot to the window, gazing out across the lawn. It was a cool, green, beautiful day.
    Her wedding day.
    They were to be married at Newman’s Chapel in the grounds of Melbourne University where Will had attained his Master of Business Administration and Economics, and afterwards their reception was to be held at Mrs. Knight’s home.
    There was a light rap on the door.
    “Come in, Dad,” she called. “I’m decent.”
    “It’s time to get ready. You look like you’re dressed for the Winter Olympics.”
    He sat on her bedroom chair; she laid out satin underwear and mist-fine stockings.
    “Are you all right?”
    “Sure,” she assured him. “Just premarital nerves jangling around like a tambourine with a few metal