Seduction Read Free

always swift and businesslike when he did it; this was irreproachably gentle, but the effect on me was far less innocent. I pressed my lips together so as not to make any noise.
    â€˜OK. Let me do your face.’
    I turned, flustered, as he let my hair fall back into place. ‘I can do that.’
    â€˜Shush. Close your eyes or it’ll sting.’ He squirted little white pearls of suncream onto his fingertips, then stuffed the tube out of the way into his jeans. I stood, feeling horribly conflicted, as he dabbed the cream on my face. Then I closed my eyes. He stroked all over my face, both hands moving in symmetry, up to my forehead, thumbs down the line of my nose, massaging across my cheekbones. I felt all the breath go out of me. There was absolutely no mistaking it this time; this was a caress he was giving. His fingers stroked under the line of my jaw and I trembled with the effort of holding still. Then he just cupped my face. I opened my eyes slowly.
    â€˜You’ve got wonderful freckles,’ he murmured, his eyes shining.
    Slowly I pulled from his hands, trying to remember to breathe. ‘Ah . . .’
    â€˜Shall we go sit in the shade? There’s a wall at the back of the theatre and we’ll be able to catch any breeze coming up the valley.’
    â€˜I’m a bit warm,’ I admitted faintly, wondering if he would have kissed me if I’d kept my eyes closed. Wondering if I dared want him to.
    We went and found his patch of shade, and sat side by side on the bare rock step, looking down the valley at the dried riverbed. All the trees looked dead. Two small boys were trudging after their goats in the mid-distance. We sipped our bottled water. I glanced sideways at Marcus, who was sitting with one leg bent up, his wrist resting on his knee, his bottle swinging from his hand. There was a faint, distant smile on his lips as he gazed out over the land, which provoked me. ‘What are you thinking about?’ I asked.
    He answered without hurry and without looking at me. ‘I’m thinking about which part of you I’d like to fuck first, if we got the chance.’
    â€˜Oh.’ I couldn’t find it in me to be shocked; we’d crossed a threshold of understanding some minutes back.
    â€˜I’m sorry.’ He cast me an amused, sideways look. ‘Would you prefer “make love” to “fuck”?’
    â€˜I prefer “fuck”.’
    â€˜I thought you would.’
    â€˜It’s not going to happen, though.’
    â€˜If you say so.’
    â€˜I’m married. You know that.’
    â€˜I sure do.’
    There was a silence. ‘Which part would you pick?’ I asked.
    He looked at me properly then, obviously pleased, and said, ‘You won’t find out by asking.’ He straightened up. ‘Shall we go get something to eat?’
    There was a café out at the main entrance. By now it was the full blaze of noon and we were desperate for shade, so we wentinside instead of taking an exterior table. There were a few other customers but it was so dark after the daylight glare that I could hardly see. Marcus led me right to the back of the room where the tables were unoccupied and we sat on a cushioned bench against the wall. There was an open window to my side, covered by a rattan blind, so we had a bit of a breeze without having to suffer the sunlight. A waiter came over as we were looking at the menu, and Marcus ordered a cup of coffee and a tea.
    â€˜Excuse me!’ I protested. ‘You didn’t actually ask me!’
    â€˜Did you want a coffee?’ he said, clearly not believing that I did. He was right too; I couldn’t cope with the thick black stuff they served in tiny cups.
    â€˜I wanted a cold drink!’
    He called out to the retreating waiter, ordering a couple of
limons
.
    â€˜Hoi! You did it again!’ I didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed by his overweening