Conveniently His Omnibus

‘I shan’t be long,’ she told him. ‘I’ve only got to put on my dress and do my hair.’

Once it was on she wasn’t sure if the cream silk had been a good idea. She had forgotten that the back was so low that it was impossible to wear a bra under it and the silk, almost perfectly decorous, seemed to hint at the shape of her breasts in a way she found unfamiliar. Her hair she left loose, sliding her feet into cream high-heeled sandals that made her taller than ever. For the first time in her life she was not ashamed or embarrassed by her height. Even in these heels she was nowhere near as tall as Jon. She picked up her bag and went downstairs.

‘Wow...you both look smashing!’ Alex told her, her admiring eyes going from Jon to Sophy in excited wonder. Susan grinned at her and then blushed bright red as she looked at Jon. A sharp knifing feeling that Sophy recognised as jealousy tore through her. She was jealous! Jealous of an eighteen-year-old...just because that eighteen-year-old had recognised instantly what she herself had been blind to for so long. Jon was an extremely attractive and desirable man!

‘We shan’t be back late.’ Instead of being reassuring her voice sounded slightly brittle. She saw Jon frown as they went outside.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked her quietly. ‘You seem on edge.’

‘It’s the heat.’ It was partially true after all. Surely he knew the reason she was so on edge? He touched her arm as he opened the car door for her and she flinched, red hot darts of sensation destroying her composure.

‘For God’s sake, Sophy.’ His voice was harsh against her ear. ‘What the hell do you think I’m going to do? Give in to my animal passions and take you here in full view of the kids?’

He had managed to subdue the harshness to a laconic drawl which infused the words with a certain dry mockery, but they still made her shake with reaction. ‘I’m sorry that you find the knowledge that I’m a fully functioning sexual being so distressing, but as I’ve already told you...you have nothing to fear.’

‘I know that.’

‘You do?’ His mouth twisted in a way she was coming to know. ‘Then you’ve a pretty odd way of showing it.’

He walked round to the passenger door of the car, which she unlocked for him, and got in beside her.

She had lost count of the thousands of times she must have driven him and yet tonight his presence beside her in the close confines of the car disturbed her. She was acutely conscious of the lean sprawl of his legs...of the rise and fall of his chest, and the cool scent of his cologne mingling with a different, more basic scent which her sense responded to on a deeper, primitive level.

She wanted him, she realised despairingly, and she would give anything not to be going to this party tonight but to be alone with him so that they could talk. Instead she forced herself to concentrate on her driving, absently noting the easy way in which the big car responded to her touch. It was a pleasure to drive, but right now she was hardly in a mood to appreciate that fact.

It was ten-past-nine when she pulled up in the drive to Jon’s friend’s house. A mock Tudor building in an avenue of similar houses, it was an easily recognisable symbol of success.

She walked with Jon to the front door.

A small brunette opened it to them, smiling ravishingly at Jon, and exclaiming, ‘Darling, you made it!’ She giggled. ‘After last night we weren’t sure if you’d remember.’ She took her time before looking at Sophy.

‘So this is your wife? Please come in. You can’t know how thrilled we were to bump into Jon last night in Cambridge.’ She chattered on as she led them through the house to a long terrace at the back where the rich aromas of barbecued meat mingled with the heat of the evening. ‘It’s simply ages since we last saw him. Roy, my husband, was so pleased...he’s having trouble with this new computer of his and if anyone can help him it will be Jon. How long have you been married?’

She was still talking to Sophy but it was Jon who answered, his expression unreadable as he drawled, ‘Not very long...not long enough, in fact.’

Sophy could feel the brown eyes darting speculatively from Jon’s face to her own. In time she might quite get to like this petite brunette, but at the moment she was too uncomfortably aware of her speculation and her interest in Jon. My God, she thought despairingly, what was she turning into? A woman who was jealous of every mere look her husband received from other women? She must be going mad, suffering from some sort of sickness brought on by the heat. Or perhaps that frustration Jon had accused her of not so very long ago?