her into her own room, she shut the door behind her and slumped limply against it.
If he’d taken her in his arms, deepened the kiss…
But he hadn’t.
She felt a quick surge of what she tried to tell herself was relief.
But mingled with that relief was a tingle of something she recognized as regret, and she was forced to admit that at some fundamental level she still wanted him.
No! she corrected herself quickly, she couldn’t still want him after all that had happened. That strong physical attraction must simply be because she had suppressed her basic needs for so long that her body was starting to rebel.
But, if that was the case, why had she kept Martin, a man who thought the world of her, at arm’s length?
She sighed and, in an endeavour to stop herself thinking, went through to the pleasant bathroom and prepared for bed once more.
When she had slipped beneath the light duvet, she closed her eyes and made an effort to empty her mind, but sleep steadfastly eluded her.
Trapped once more on the endless treadmill of thought, it was the early hours of the morning before her weary brain stopped working and she finally fell into an uneasy doze.
She awoke to a strange room filled with sunlight. For a moment or two her mind was a complete blank, and then everything that had happened the previous evening came back in a rush.
She was still Jared’s wife. Nominally. And in a matter of hours she would have to decide whether or not to go back to him.
Every nerve in her body tightened and a rising panic threatened to engulf her. Forcing it down, she climbed out of bed and pulled back the light muslin curtains. The sun was riding high in the sky, and a glance at her watch showed it was almost midday.
When she had showered and dressed in a blue and white striped shirtwaister and sandals, she brushed out her long hair and pulled it back into a loose gleaming knot.
It had been her intention to leave by way of the veranda,but the glass door refused to open and the lock was empty, so she made her way through the silent house.
There was no sign of the housekeeper, but the complete absence of dust and the bowls of fresh flowers suggested that that good lady had been busy.
On the opposite side of the hallway a door leading on to the far veranda was standing invitingly open, and crossing to it, Perdita stepped out into the fresh air.
From here she got a panoramic view over a wide swathe of picturesque countryside. In the distance, lush and green, she could see row upon row of vines while a crop-spraying helicopter, with a trail of fine spray suspended beneath it like a cloud, clattered noisily up the valley.
As she walked along the veranda looking at the adobe walls and the tubs of bright flowers, mingling with the sweet scent of the flowers she became aware of an appetizing smell of grilled bacon and percolating coffee.
When she reached the south side of the house and the pool area, she descended the veranda steps into the blazing sun. The house and the veranda had been relatively cool and only then, standing looking around her, did she appreciate just how hot it was.
She had always enjoyed the heat and, after a long cold winter in London, it was very welcome.
All traces of the previous evening had been cleared away and by the pool a white table, shielded from the full strength of the sun by a canopy of vines, had been set for brunch.
On the side trolley was a tall glass jug of orange juice, a basket of newly baked rolls, a tub of butter and a selection of preserves, while several covered dishes and a pot of coffee were keeping warm on the hotplate.
Sam ambled over to greet her, languid in the heat, and offered her a huge clumsy paw before returning to his post by the table, where an empty bowl waited to be filled.
Jared was in the water, doing lengths in a fast effortless crawl. He was in the middle of a racing turn at the far end of the pool when he saw her.
Levering himself out in one smooth movement, he
If he’d taken her in his arms, deepened the kiss…
But he hadn’t.
She felt a quick surge of what she tried to tell herself was relief.
But mingled with that relief was a tingle of something she recognized as regret, and she was forced to admit that at some fundamental level she still wanted him.
No! she corrected herself quickly, she couldn’t still want him after all that had happened. That strong physical attraction must simply be because she had suppressed her basic needs for so long that her body was starting to rebel.
But, if that was the case, why had she kept Martin, a man who thought the world of her, at arm’s length?
She sighed and, in an endeavour to stop herself thinking, went through to the pleasant bathroom and prepared for bed once more.
When she had slipped beneath the light duvet, she closed her eyes and made an effort to empty her mind, but sleep steadfastly eluded her.
Trapped once more on the endless treadmill of thought, it was the early hours of the morning before her weary brain stopped working and she finally fell into an uneasy doze.
She awoke to a strange room filled with sunlight. For a moment or two her mind was a complete blank, and then everything that had happened the previous evening came back in a rush.
She was still Jared’s wife. Nominally. And in a matter of hours she would have to decide whether or not to go back to him.
Every nerve in her body tightened and a rising panic threatened to engulf her. Forcing it down, she climbed out of bed and pulled back the light muslin curtains. The sun was riding high in the sky, and a glance at her watch showed it was almost midday.
When she had showered and dressed in a blue and white striped shirtwaister and sandals, she brushed out her long hair and pulled it back into a loose gleaming knot.
It had been her intention to leave by way of the veranda,but the glass door refused to open and the lock was empty, so she made her way through the silent house.
There was no sign of the housekeeper, but the complete absence of dust and the bowls of fresh flowers suggested that that good lady had been busy.
On the opposite side of the hallway a door leading on to the far veranda was standing invitingly open, and crossing to it, Perdita stepped out into the fresh air.
From here she got a panoramic view over a wide swathe of picturesque countryside. In the distance, lush and green, she could see row upon row of vines while a crop-spraying helicopter, with a trail of fine spray suspended beneath it like a cloud, clattered noisily up the valley.
As she walked along the veranda looking at the adobe walls and the tubs of bright flowers, mingling with the sweet scent of the flowers she became aware of an appetizing smell of grilled bacon and percolating coffee.
When she reached the south side of the house and the pool area, she descended the veranda steps into the blazing sun. The house and the veranda had been relatively cool and only then, standing looking around her, did she appreciate just how hot it was.
She had always enjoyed the heat and, after a long cold winter in London, it was very welcome.
All traces of the previous evening had been cleared away and by the pool a white table, shielded from the full strength of the sun by a canopy of vines, had been set for brunch.
On the side trolley was a tall glass jug of orange juice, a basket of newly baked rolls, a tub of butter and a selection of preserves, while several covered dishes and a pot of coffee were keeping warm on the hotplate.
Sam ambled over to greet her, languid in the heat, and offered her a huge clumsy paw before returning to his post by the table, where an empty bowl waited to be filled.
Jared was in the water, doing lengths in a fast effortless crawl. He was in the middle of a racing turn at the far end of the pool when he saw her.
Levering himself out in one smooth movement, he
Similar Books
The Evil That Men Do: FBI Profiler Roy Hazelwood's Journey Into the Minds of Sexual Predators
Stephen G. Michaud, Roy Hazelwood
