I go out and get a Chinese meal?'
`Would you? That would be lovely; I didn't
really feel like cooking.'
'Be back in about twenty minutes,' he
promised as he kissed her on the nose before going to put on his overcoat.
But it was nearer half an hour before Simon
returned, and then he was rather annoyed to find that Cassie was sitting at the
table writing in a notebook and had made no attempt to set the table or put any
plates to warm.
She looked up in some surprise as he walked
in.
'Good heavens, are you back already? Sorry, I
just sat down to make a note of some ideas I had on the way back from Paris and
forgot the time.' She jumped up and began to get out the cutlery and mats. 'It
won't take a minute.'
'How did you get on in Paris?' Simon called
from the kitchen where he was plunging a couple of dinner plates in hot water
to warm them.
'Oh, it was super. I think this was one of
the most successful fashion fairs they've held.' She went on telling him about
the trip as they ate, describing the new styles in detail, and enthusiastically
outlining her own plans for displaying the goods in the various fashion
departments at Marriott & Brown's.
Simon listened and asked several questions,
but the warm, interested look in his eyes gradually faded and was replaced by a
slight frown as he detected a harder note in Cassie's voice as she talked about
a deal she'd pulled off, a slightly ruthless edge that had never been there
before.
After the meal they sat together on the
settee for awhile, listening to some new L.P.s that Simon had
bought, his arm round her and Cassie's head on his shoulder. But after a while
she began to fidget restlessly and then sat up. `Shan't be a minute; I just
want to make a note of an idea I have for the swimwear department.'
Picking up her notebook, she sat down at the
table again and began to write hurriedly, her ideas coming too fast for her to
write in anything neater than a hasty scrawl. When the record ended she was
still writing and Simon got up and quietly turned it over. His eyes settled on
her reflectively as he went back to his seat, realising that she was so
immersed in what she was doing that she hadn't even noticed that the music had
stopped.
An hour later he stood up abruptly, turned
off the record player and came to take the pen from her hand. Cassie looked up,
an indignant frown on her face, her mouth open to make a sharp objection, but
then she realised who it was and she flushed guiltily.
'Oh, lord, I did it again, didn't I?'
Contritely she closed the notebook and stood up. `I'm sorry, darling. It's just
that I'm so full of ideas after Paris, and I'm afraid that if I don't put them
all down I'll forget them.'
She looked up at him, her green eyes wistful
and pleading, and Simon found it impossible to be angry. He reached up to
stroke the smooth, pale skin of her cheek and the harsh comment he had been
about to make died in his throat. Instead he said thickly, `Let's go to bed.'
Her face came alive with love and longing.
`Oh, yes- let's!'
They made love with a turbulent passion, each
of them satisfying their own needs greedily, but in so doing arousing the
other's to new heights of sensuality-new and yet not new-for each of them knew
the other's body as intimately as their own and was aware of what pleased and
excited them the most. Simon had taught Cassie never to be shy or hold back, to
tell him when something he did gave her enjoyment, until there was no longer
any need to tell him and she could only moan, 'Yes-oh, Simon, yes!' as he
brought her to one ecstatic climax after another.
They had been apart for a long time and it
was late when Simon finally turned her on to her side and lay close beside her,
his arm across her possessively, encompassing her with the protection of his
body as he fell into a contented sleep.
Some slight noise woke him a couple of hours
later and he stirred, then remembered where he was and reached out to put his
arm round Cassie again. But she wasn't
`Would you? That would be lovely; I didn't
really feel like cooking.'
'Be back in about twenty minutes,' he
promised as he kissed her on the nose before going to put on his overcoat.
But it was nearer half an hour before Simon
returned, and then he was rather annoyed to find that Cassie was sitting at the
table writing in a notebook and had made no attempt to set the table or put any
plates to warm.
She looked up in some surprise as he walked
in.
'Good heavens, are you back already? Sorry, I
just sat down to make a note of some ideas I had on the way back from Paris and
forgot the time.' She jumped up and began to get out the cutlery and mats. 'It
won't take a minute.'
'How did you get on in Paris?' Simon called
from the kitchen where he was plunging a couple of dinner plates in hot water
to warm them.
'Oh, it was super. I think this was one of
the most successful fashion fairs they've held.' She went on telling him about
the trip as they ate, describing the new styles in detail, and enthusiastically
outlining her own plans for displaying the goods in the various fashion
departments at Marriott & Brown's.
Simon listened and asked several questions,
but the warm, interested look in his eyes gradually faded and was replaced by a
slight frown as he detected a harder note in Cassie's voice as she talked about
a deal she'd pulled off, a slightly ruthless edge that had never been there
before.
After the meal they sat together on the
settee for awhile, listening to some new L.P.s that Simon had
bought, his arm round her and Cassie's head on his shoulder. But after a while
she began to fidget restlessly and then sat up. `Shan't be a minute; I just
want to make a note of an idea I have for the swimwear department.'
Picking up her notebook, she sat down at the
table again and began to write hurriedly, her ideas coming too fast for her to
write in anything neater than a hasty scrawl. When the record ended she was
still writing and Simon got up and quietly turned it over. His eyes settled on
her reflectively as he went back to his seat, realising that she was so
immersed in what she was doing that she hadn't even noticed that the music had
stopped.
An hour later he stood up abruptly, turned
off the record player and came to take the pen from her hand. Cassie looked up,
an indignant frown on her face, her mouth open to make a sharp objection, but
then she realised who it was and she flushed guiltily.
'Oh, lord, I did it again, didn't I?'
Contritely she closed the notebook and stood up. `I'm sorry, darling. It's just
that I'm so full of ideas after Paris, and I'm afraid that if I don't put them
all down I'll forget them.'
She looked up at him, her green eyes wistful
and pleading, and Simon found it impossible to be angry. He reached up to
stroke the smooth, pale skin of her cheek and the harsh comment he had been
about to make died in his throat. Instead he said thickly, `Let's go to bed.'
Her face came alive with love and longing.
`Oh, yes- let's!'
They made love with a turbulent passion, each
of them satisfying their own needs greedily, but in so doing arousing the
other's to new heights of sensuality-new and yet not new-for each of them knew
the other's body as intimately as their own and was aware of what pleased and
excited them the most. Simon had taught Cassie never to be shy or hold back, to
tell him when something he did gave her enjoyment, until there was no longer
any need to tell him and she could only moan, 'Yes-oh, Simon, yes!' as he
brought her to one ecstatic climax after another.
They had been apart for a long time and it
was late when Simon finally turned her on to her side and lay close beside her,
his arm across her possessively, encompassing her with the protection of his
body as he fell into a contented sleep.
Some slight noise woke him a couple of hours
later and he stirred, then remembered where he was and reached out to put his
arm round Cassie again. But she wasn't
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