Living Together

‘And I didn’t think I would.’ He sighed. ‘But when Max said you weren’t here I knew I’d be at your place before the night was over. I only came home to shower and change before coming to see you.’

‘And instead I was already here.’

’Yes.’ It came out as a sigh of relief. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw you. ‘I could have kissed you right there and then.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ She blushed. ‘Not in front of Max.’

‘How about now?’

Helen frowned teasingly. ‘You’re very persistent.’

‘It’s the only way I get anywhere with you. I’m not even going to ask you any more, I’m going to kiss you anyway. Come here, woman,’ said Leon fiercely, pulling her to the hardness of his body, his hands linked loosely at the base of her spine as he moulded her curves to him. ‘Put your arms around me, darling,’ he encouraged. ‘I want to feel your hands on my body.’

Her face stained red. ‘You’re embarrassing me!’

‘Touch me, Helen. Caress me,’ he groaned, bending to put his lips fleetingly against her throat. ‘Touch me, Helen. Can’t you feel how badly I want that?’

Her arms moved tentatively below the jacket of the cream suit he wore, feeling the heat of his skin through the brown silk shirt. She could feel the tension in his body as her fingers splayed across, his taut back; it was the same tension displayed in his face.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ she said against his hair-roughened chest, her cheek coming into contact with his skin as his shirt was partly unbuttoned.

‘I think it’s a fantastic idea,’ he said against her ear-lobe.

Helen grapsed as he gently nibbled her ear, his tongue following the shell-like curve. She could feel the usual trembling fear beginning within her. ‘Leon, I—’

‘I know.’ He moved his head back to look at her. ‘But a few weeks ago you wouldn’t even have let me be this close.’

It was true, and the way she was reacting to his caresses made her nervous. She had been denied a male closeness for so long now that just the touch of his hands made her tremble. Perhaps her living here like this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Leon wanted to sleep with her but had mentioned nothing about loving her. She could be hurt more by Leon than she had been by Michael, could find herself becoming dependent on him, and when they finally parted she would be devastated. Already she was beginning to respond to him, learning to accept his touch, to want it even.

‘I think you should let me go now,’ she told him huskily, her arms dropping to her sides.

‘Not yet,’ he refused, and bent his head to claim her lips with his, gently prising hers apart.

Helen could feel the moist sweetness of his mouth enveloping her, his hands moving over her body in slow circular movements. She was melting against him, her mouth inviting him to more intimacies, intimacies he wasn’t slow to take advantage of, leaving her in no doubt as to the conclusion he would like this embrace to come to.

When she at last drew away from him she was breathless, her senses spinning. She couldn’t believe she had let this man get this close to her, had allowed him to take liberties with her that no other man had taken. Michael certainly hadn’t been interested in kissing her on their wedding night; his only interest was in the thrusting desire of his own body. All that he had wanted that night had been a female body, any female body, and the fact that she was his wife meant that he didn’t have to make any attempt to woo her before getting her into his bed.

She had been a fool about Michael, a blind impetuous fool who had imagined herself in love with a surface charm and a handsome boyish face. But she had paid for her stupidity—God, how she had paid for it!

Leon shook her, bringing her back to an awareness of still standing in the circle of his arms. His mouth was a thin angry line as he looked down at her, the warm sensuality of a moment ago completely obliterated by his anger. He shook her again. ‘Will you forget him!’ he ground out furiously. ‘Forget the bastard!’

‘I try, I really try. But each time you—it always reminds me of the way it was with him, and I—I can’t—’

‘Oh God, Helen!’ He thrust her savagely away from him. ‘You can give me no worse insult than to liken me to him.’ His face twisted bitterly. ‘You may as well leave now if you think I’m ever going to abuse you the way he did. I want to make love to you, not rape you!’

‘Is there a difference?’ she asked dully.

‘You know damn well there is,’ he snapped, all gentleness gone from the hard planes of his face.

‘If I ever did know I’ve forgotten,’ she told him quietly.

Leon’s hands clenched at his sides, hands that only seconds earlier had been caressing her. He looked as if he would like to hurt her now, but instead he turned on his heel and slammed into what must be his bedroom.

When Max came out of the kitchen a few minutes later it was to find Helen huddled in one of the armchairs, her face stricken. The manservant frowned his concern. ‘Are you feeling quite well, Mrs West?’ he enquired gently.

She gave him a wan smile. ‘I’m fine, thank you, Max. Perhaps I’m more hungry than I realised.’

He seemed relieved. ‘As soon as Mr Masters is ready I’ll serve the meal.’