Obesssion Read Free Page B

I could never find the right words. “This must be the right time of the month.” His voice no more than a sensuous whisper, he nuzzled the back of my neck, already pushing up my blouse and unfastening my bra.
    “ Gabe!” I wriggled, annoyed. “I’m busy right now.” I gestured towards the bowl of apples, the bag of peelings, and the other fruits awaiting my attention. “If I’m lucky, I might be finished in here by midnight at this rate.”
    “ Whatever.” With one final twist of his deft fingers, my bra fell open. He dropped my blouse back into place and wandered off, gazing into the fridge again. He was being a pain in the arse tonight, probably in retaliation for my lateness earlier.
    Gritting my teeth, I dropped the paring knife into the bowl before I was tempted to stab him with it. I wiped my hands and refastened the bra, watching as he poured a glass of red wine, and waited for him to look at me.
    “Thanks, I’d love one.” My sarcasm was acknowledged with a raised eyebrow. The trouble with Gabe was he’s so damned cool, he almost never rose to the bait.
    “ You were too busy a minute ago.”
    I watched, helpless, as he sauntered out of the kitchen, humming a little tune under his breath. Turning back to the fruit mountain, I flinched when I knocked my burned hand against the tap. I examined the red mark under the bright kitchen spotlights. I should be able to hide it with concealer. It looked as though I’d been branded.
    Oh, sod the fruit. It wouldn’t hurt to take a break for five minutes. I poured myself a drink from the bottle Gabe had opened, and sat down at the table to flick through the newspaper abandoned at breakfast. My eyes may have been focused on the pages in front of me, but in my head I was remembering the guy in the café. I should have taken the ice after all; I didn’t realise I’d been scalded at the time. I was too embarrassed about throwing my drink all over him, too shocked at how I’d felt when he took my hand, and too scared that I’d spoken without realising it. I’d swear I hadn’t said anything, yet he’d answered me.
    I’d been stressed about the photo shoot. That was all. It wasn’t significant.
    I took a swig of wine and replayed the moment in my head.
    He looked as though he’d tumbled straight out of bed, his hair over-long and messy, flopping onto a strong forehead above the most arresting dark blue eyes I’d ever seen. I noticed eyes. I spent so many hours interviewing people, I’d become an expert on eyes. His weren’t just dark, I’d seen tiny flecks of amber when he smiled at me, the tiniest little laughter lines around his mouth.
    He looked like a man who smiled frequently, unlike Gabe, who only used his smile when he wanted something.

 
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
     
    2.1 Suki
     
    I smiled when Elaine, one of the people Gabe had invited, told me how much she admired our devotion to each other. How affectionate we were—what a lovely husband I had.
    In front of everyone, Gabe was adorable. Especially in front of Jon Craigowan and his wife, Anita. I never could decide if I should feel shocked at Gabe’s blatant two-facedness, or admiring of his political guile.
    Jon Craigowan was the hot new face of Formula 1 racing. He’d only joined the team a year ago, but he had a string of wins to his name already and had been tipped as a future championship winner. This was Gabe’s fifth season. He had yet to clinch the title and every time Jon finished ahead of him, he seemed to get a little harder, colder and more remote.
    Dinner was finally over. The presents had been distributed and opened, we’d been photographed in every room, with every group, enjoying our so-called Christmas festivities. As everyone relaxed over drinks, Gabe rattled a knife against his glass and called for attention. He beckoned me to his side, to stand next to the giant tree.
    “ I want to thank everyone for coming here today.” He smiled around the room, the image of a relaxed man.