Act of Betrayal Read Free Page B

spoke, he walked
    forward, until he was only inches away from her. There was a row
    of units right behind her, and nowhere to retreat to. Besides, it
    suddenly seemed a matter of honour to stand her ground, as if
    this unwanted proximity didn't concern her one bit, although her
    breathing had become painful and even difficult. Jason's hand
    touched the nape of her neck, his fingers stroking the smooth
    skin. Her mouth went dry, and her hands clenched into fists at
    her sides. 'This thing,' Jason said softly, 'is an obscenity.'
    The elastic band was tugged from her hair, not gently, and the
    soft tawny strands fell round her face. It was all she could do
    not to cry out. She found herself wondering absurdly where the
    waitresses had got to. Surely they would be back at any moment.
    Surely . . . She'd cried a lot of tears and spent many sleepless
    nights, trying to forget how it had once been between Jason and
    herself, and she thought she had succeeded. Now, the first
    seeking warmth of his mouth on hers
    told her that she was wrong, and every fibre of her being
    whimpered in shock. She stood rigidly, resisting the practised
    sensual teasing of his mouth, the warm coaxing of his tongue
    against the unrelenting contours of her lips. Pain armoured her
    against response, and she was grateful for it, because it could
    have been so tempting to let the past slide away, and with it the
    icy restraint she'd imposed on herself. Sex was the great
    betrayer. It made your body impose on your mind. It robbed you of
    reason and commonsense. It made you believe there could be 'happy
    ever after', and Laura wanted no more of it. But she wasn't
    prepared for this gentleness in him, and it bewildered her. She
    almost wished he'd shown her some of the brutality of their last
    time together. It would have provided a focus for her hatred, for
    her disgust. This insidious probing at her senses was less easy
    to fight, and it made her afraid, because the memories it evoked
    were not of anger or bitterness and accusation, but of their
    early days together, and all the promise of them. A promise which
    Jason had cynically and blatantly broken. That was what she had
    to remember—all she had to remember. Nothing else mattered—no
    laughterfilled days, or passion-warmed nights. No moments when
    she'd wondered crazily why she'd been chosen to be so lucky.
    Because ultimately and heartbieaJiingly, there'd been no luck
    about it. She was simply Laura Caswell, a girl who had been
    married for her money: Not the first one to find herself in that
    situation, and certainly not the last. The thoughts ran wildly in
    her brain, bolstering her against the first slow, sweet stirring
    of the senses which Jason's kiss was inevitably arousing. He'd
    taught her to want him, to want the pleasure which his mouth and
    hands and body could give her, and her starved sexuality was
    slowly, almost incredulously reviving under the insistent
    pressure of his lips against hers. She wanted to open her mouth,
    to sink against his body, and feel the hard possession of his
    arms round her again. She wanted it so much that she ached
    inside—an ache which pleaded for assuagement... With a little
    cry, she jerked her head back, bringing up a clenched fist to
    scrub furiously at her lips. 'You're disgusting.' 'You think so?'
    he asked mockingly. 'Where have you spent the last three odd
    years, Laura? In a nunnery?' 'That's none of your business.' How
    dare he stand there so utterly unmoved, when her heart was
    threatening to choke her with its hammering. 'And may I remind
    you that you've lost the legal right to—maul me.' He shrugged.
    'Merely an experiment, darling. Nothing to get hysterical about.'
    He laughed briefly. 'And there wasn't, was there? It's all quite
    dead. Not a single pang of unrequited passion on either side.
    So— no reason why we can't behave civilly to each other when we
    meet from now on—as we inevitably will. Shake hands