The Guilty Wife Read Free Page B

before.'
    'What kind?'
    His eyes crinkled and he gave her lips the merest touch with his. 'Wild about you, of course.' And then he opened the door and was gone as Lucie still stood with eyes open wide in astonishment. Seton came to collect her the next morning, buoyant, on a high, reaching out to kiss her as soon as he arrived. Lucie, too, was exhilarated by excitement, but was also full of nervous tension. She could see happiness opening before her but was afraid to grasp it, so she held him off.
    'No! Don't touch me,' she cried out, knowing that she would be lost if he held her. But he put his hands on her shoulders and said, 'Lucie? What is it?'
    "This—this attraction you feel. It could be just a chemical thing, something that's hit us out of the blue.'
    'Ah, so you admit it hit you too,' he said with satisfaction.
    Ignoring that, Lucie said, 'How do you know it won't go away as suddenly as it came? You might wake up one morning and hate the sight of me.'
    'If I woke up with you beside me it couldn't be anything but wonderful—perfect,' Seton said simply. She tried to argue with him, to point out that something that had happened so quickly couldn't possibly last. But Seton merely laughed and pulled her into his arms.
    Lucie gave a sigh of frustration. 'Oh, you big fool! Why won't you listen to me? Take me seriously?'
    But then he kissed her and immediately Lucie was lost again, and somehow she knew that she always would be, that whenever he kissed her it would always be like this, a total domination of her mind, her heart and her body. And yet she accepted it gladly, glorying in it, knowing that it was the same for him. He was, she observed, unchangeable, and he proved it in the next weeks as he saw her as often as he could. That first week he was around all the time, driving her wherever she wanted to go, taking her out to eat, solicitous about her injured wrist. And after the first week, when he had to go back to London to work, he put a great many miles on the Jaguar as he drove down to take her to dinner and the theatre—places that she would never have gone to normally. He didn't seem at all short of money, and although he didn't throw it around he was always very generous, booking the best seats at the theatre or cinema, tables at well-known restaurants. Although he obeyed the rules she'd set down for them to get to know each other better and not to rush things, Seton was quite capable of trying to break down her defences. Often, when they said goodnight, he would kiss her so passionately that it almost broke her resolve, but somehow she managed to push him away, to send him home empty and unfulfilled, as frustrated as she was herself.
    It was a long, hot summer, and one day, when they'd known each other about six weeks, Seton hired a boat for the day and rowed her down the river that meandered through the old town, making sure she had cushions to make her comfortable, although her wrist was almost mended now. He'd brought a picnic hamper and dangled a bottle of wine over the side to keep it cool until they came to a quiet spot of trees and dappled sunlight. There Seton moored and helped her onto the bank.
    He laid a rug down on the grass and they ate and drank, listening to old, trad jazz tunes on a cassette player. He had taken off his shirt because of the heat and, although she tried to resist, Lucie found her eyes drawn to his broad, smooth chest and the muscles that rippled in his shoulders and arms. The slight breeze made the leaves above them move, casting shadows that played across his body, first highlighting a shoulder, then the tiny, fascinating nipples, then the length of his back as he turned away from her to repack the hamper. It was erotic, sexy, as if some mischievous Cupid had deliberately set out to tease and tantalise her senses. Lucie's throat tightened and she felt a fierce surge of longing, an emotion so strong that almost of its own volition her hand lifted and she touched his back, letting