‘You’ve a pretty face and you speak pretty words,’ she said. ‘I could almost …’
‘Consent. And you will be protected.’
‘I will live,’ she whispered.
‘I promise it.’
‘And my kinswomen?’
He hesitated, wanting those inconvenient crones out of the way, but he was so close to having her, how could he let them ruin it?
‘I will do such as I can,’ he said.
‘Then I shall say yes.’
A potent amalgam of happiness and triumph beat in his veins. He leant towards her, breathing in the scent that lay beneath all the blood, sweat and tears – her unique Evangeline Lillie fragrance, that which had driven him wild since he arrived in Saxonhurst.
His lips touched hers, and the flame of desire streaked through him. How she bewitched him, and yet her witchcraft was of a kind he felt he could not live without.
The kiss moved quickly from a tender brush to a raw and salty clash of mouths. Adam felt he could never get enough of her taste, of her warmth, of her tongue. Finally, his increasingly desperate prayers had found their answer, and the answer was yes.
He awoke to find himself snogging the pillow, one hand wrapped tight around his erection. Oh, no Evie after all, no full lips, no slip of tongue, no breasts bared to his eye. But the imprint of her remained on his memory for as long as it took him to bring his cock to complete engorgement.
I should let go. I should turn my mind to other thoughts.
But Evie’s hold on him was absolute now. She had slipped past every moral defence, to place herself at the centre of his world, which was no longer a world of cool ascetic pursuits but one of thunder and blood and lust.
He thought of her underneath him, her curves and smoothness, her careless eroticism, her joy in the act of sex. He had to have her, had to, had to.
He came hard, and afterwards, for perhaps the first time, he didn’t feel guilty.
Adam was surprised at how many villagers had signed up for his seaside trip. Standing at the coach door with a clipboard on a flaming day in early June, he ticked off each new passenger as they hauled themselves up the step.
Lyn and Ken, Julia Shields, Sebastian and Kasia all rolled up for the pleasure trip. But where was Evie?
‘Just five more minutes,’ he said anxiously to the coach driver, who sat with the engine running, checking his watch.
The villagers grumbled and fanned themselves and opened packages of sandwiches while Adam peered up and down the lane.
Finally, she appeared, a vision in a huge straw hat and sunglasses of similar size, tripping along the road in a halter-neck sundress and raffia wedges.
Adam’s mouth watered. Here she was. His future wife. His past wife. His only wife.
‘You waited for me,’ she said with a flirtatious smile. ‘You’re so sweet. Sorry I’m late, Giles from the cricket team kept me up all night.’
Adam’s mouth dried out immediately and he clenched his hands. The clipboard fell to the floor. Evie swung herself up on to the coach as he bent to retrieve it. For one split second, he got an uninterrupted view up Evie’s voluminous skirts. She wasn’t wearing knickers.
She looked over her shoulder at him and winked, flitting away to the back seat where the more disreputable members of the cricket team were already openi
ng cans of lager.
The only available seat was next to Julia. Adam took his place, craning his neck down the aisle to where Evie sat on some yokel’s lap, giggling and being fed Pringles. This was not how he had envisaged things.
But there might be a chance, once they reached the coast, to steal her away from her companions and take a walk on the beach, the two of them alone. Every minute brought him closer to his declaration, after all.
‘Murray Mint, vicar?’ Julia cut into his thoughts, proffering an open bag.
‘Thanks.’