Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: February 2018 Books 1 - 4 - Ким Лоренс, Lynne Graham - Страница 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

MERRY AND ANGEL lay side by side in the orange grove above the private beach. Day after day had melted into the next with a curiously timeless quality that had gradually teased all the tension from Merry’s bones and taught her how to relax. She could hardly credit that they had already spent an entire month on the island. Her body ached from his demands, not that she wasn’t willing, but she was still in shock at the extent of Angel’s ravenous hunger for her.

It was sex, only sex, she told herself regularly, and then in the dark of the night when Angel wasn’t his sardonic know-all self she snuggled up to him, revelling in the intimacy that now bonded them. Maintaining a controlled distance wasn’t possible with a man as unashamedly physical as the one she had married. Angel had no limits. He would go and work for a couple of hours in his home office and then sweep down on her wherever she was and cart her off to bed again as if he had been parted from her for at least a month.

‘I missed you,’ he would say, replete with satisfaction while her pulses still pounded and her body hummed in the aftermath.

‘I could work with you,’ she would say.

‘You’re my wife, the mother of my child, no longer an employee.’

‘I could be a junior partner,’ she had proffered pathetically.

‘We can’t live in each other’s pockets twenty-four-seven,’ Angel had pointed out drily. ‘It would be unhealthy.’

No, what Merry sometimes thought was unhealthy was the sheer weight of love that Angel now inspired in her. That was a truth she had evaded as long as possible: she loved him.

Only because she loved him and her daughter had she been willing to give Angel one last chance, she acknowledged ruefully. There were still a thousand things she wanted to punish him for, but she knew that vengeful, bitter thoughts were unproductive and would ultimately damage any hope of their having a stable relationship. In that line, she was sensible, very sensible, she acknowledged ruefully. Unfortunately, she only became stupid when it came to Angel himself.

Sometimes she had to work uncomfortably hard to hide her love. She would see him laughing over Elyssa’s antics in the bath, amusement lightening and softening his lean, darkly handsome features, and she wouldn’t be able to drag her eyes from him. He had taken her down to the village taverna above the harbour and dined with her there, introducing her to the locals, more relaxed than she had ever seen him in company, his usually razor-edged cynicism absent. He had tipped her out of bed to climb the highest hill on the island to see in the dawn and told her off for moaning about how tired she was even though he had drained her energy at the summit with al fresco sex. But of course she was tired, making love half the night and half the day, physically active in all the hours between as she strove to match his high-voltage energy levels.

Ironically, complete peace had engulfed the Valtinos house the day after the wedding once Angel had revealed that his mother and her boyfriend had departed at dawn for an unknown destination, leaving the other half of the house in a fine mess for the staff to deal with. Merry had felt relieved and then guilty at feeling relieved because, like it or not, Angel’s challenging and difficult mother was family and had to somehow be integrated into their lives or become a continuing problem.

They had gone sailing on the yacht, visiting other islands, shopping, picnicking. They had thrown a giant party at the house attended by all Angel’s relatives, near and distant. She had met his second cousin who lived in London and had heard all about Angel’s visit to her home before he first met Elyssa, and Merry had laughed like a drain when she’d recognised how wily he had been to find out a little more about babies before he’d served himself up as a new father to one.

‘What’s your favourite colour?’ she asked drowsily.

‘I’m not a girl. I don’t have a favourite,’ Angel parried with amusement.

‘Birth sign?’

‘Look at your marriage certificate, lazy-bones,’ he advised. ‘I’m a Scorpio, but I don’t believe in that sh—’

‘Language,’ she reminded him, resting a finger against his parted lips.

‘Prim, proper, prissy,’ Angel labelled without hesitation.

‘Your first lover? What age were you?’ she pressed, defying that censure while wondering how on earth he could still think of her that way after the time they had spent together.

‘Too young. You don’t want to know,’ Angel traded.

‘I do want to know,’ Merry argued, stretching indolently in the drenching heat, only vaguely wondering what time it was. They had spent the morning swimming and entertaining Elyssa on the beach and then Sally had come down to collect their daughter and take her back up to the house for lunch and a nap. Now the surf was whispering onto the shore a hundred yards below them while the cane forest that sheltered the orange grove from the coastal breezes concealed them entirely from view.

‘I was fourteen. She was one of my mother’s friends,’ Angel admitted grimly.

Frowning, Merry flipped over to stare at him. ‘Seriously?’

‘You’re still so naïve,’ Angel groaned, lifting up on his elbows to study her, hard muscles flexing on his bare bronzed torso, the vee at his hipbones prominent above the low-slung shorts as he leant back. Just looking at that display of stark masculine beauty made her mouth run dry and her heart give a sudden warning thud, awareness thundering through her at storm-force potency.

‘What do you think it was like here when I was an adolescent with Angelina in charge?’ he chided. ‘I came home for the summer from school and there were no rules whatsoever. Back then it was all wild, decadent parties and the house was awash with people. Believe it or not, my mother was even less inhibited in those days and, being an oversexed teenager, I naturally thought the freedom to do anything I liked was amazing and I never let my father know how debauched it was.’

‘So, your first experience was with an older woman,’ Merry gathered, determined to move on past that sordid revelation and not judge, because when he had been that young and innocent she believed he had been more sinned against than he had been a sinner.

‘And the experience was disappointing,’ Angel admitted with derisive bite. ‘It felt sleazy, not empowering. I felt used. When the parties here got too much I used to go down and camp out with Roula’s family for a few days.’

‘She lived here on the island back then?’ Merry said in surprise.

‘Still does. Roula was born and bred on Palos, like me. This is her home base too. She runs a chain of beauty salons, comes back here for a break. Unlike me, she had a regular family with parents who were still married and their home was a little oasis of peace and normality... I loved escaping there,’ he confided. ‘Rules and regular meal times have more appeal than you would appreciate.’

‘I can understand that,’ Merry conceded ruefully. ‘My mother was very disorganised. She’d want to eat and there’d be nothing in the fridge. She’d want to go out and she wouldn’t have a babysitter arranged. Sometimes she just left me in bed and went out anyway. I never told Sybil that. But when I was with Sybil, everything was structured.’

‘Thee mou... I forgot!’ Angel exclaimed abruptly. ‘Your aunt phoned to ask me if there was any chance we’d be back in the UK in the next couple of weeks because your mother’s coming over to stay with her for a while and she wants to see you. I said I’d try to organise it.’

Merry frowned, reluctant to get on board with yet another reconciliation scene with her estranged mother. Natalie enjoyed emotional scenes, enjoyed asking her daughter why she couldn’t act more like a normal daughter and love and appreciate her, not seeming to realise that the time for laying the foundation for such bonds lay far behind them. They had missed that boat and Merry had learned to get by without a mother by replacing her with the more dependable Sybil.

‘You’re not keen,’ Angel gathered, shrewd dark golden eyes scanning her expressive troubled face. ‘Sybil made it sound like it was really important that you show up at some stage. I think she’s hoping you’ll mend fences with her sister.’

Merry shrugged jerkily. ‘I’ve tried before and it never worked. Sybil’s a peacemaker and wants everyone to be happy but I always annoy Natalie by saying or doing the wrong thing.’

‘Try giving her another chance,’ Angel urged, surprising her. ‘I don’t get on with my mother either, but then she doesn’t make any effort to get on with me. At least yours is willing to make the effort.’

‘And when it goes pear-shaped, she blames me every time,’ Merry said bitterly.

‘You can be an unforgiving little soul when people fail your high expectations,’ Angel murmured softly. ‘I know you haven’t forgiven me yet for running out on you.’

Her face froze. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Be honest. I’m still on probation. You’re always waiting for me to do something dreadful and show my true colours,’ Angel told her impatiently. ‘You hold back. You watch everything you say and do and always give me the carefully sanitised version.’

Merry clashed in shock with hot dark golden eyes and recognised his exasperation. Guilty dismay pierced her and she was even more taken aback by how very clearly he saw through her pretences to her fearful desire to keep the peace. He lifted a hand and traced the full, soft curve of her lower lip as she caught it between her teeth.

‘I don’t mean to be like that,’ she admitted uncomfortably.

‘I’ll have to work that pessimistic streak out of you. By all means, set the bar high because I do rise to a challenge,’ Angel assured her. ‘But don’t drown me before I can even begin in low expectations.’

‘I don’t have low expectations,’ Merry protested breathlessly, flipping over to face him, her colour high.

Angel grasped her hand and spread her fingers low on his belly with a glittering smile of disagreement. ‘Go on, tell me you’re too tired or just not in the mood for once,’ he urged.

Her small fingers flexed against his sun-warmed skin and then pulled defiantly free to trace the furrow of silky hair that ran down from his navel to vanish beneath the waistband of his shorts. Heat uncoiled and spread low in her belly. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ she whispered, flicking loose the first metal stud separating her from him. ‘No matter how tired, I can’t help always being in the mood for you,’ she confided unsteadily. ‘It’s not fake, it’s not me trying to please.’

She heard the startled catch of his expelled breath as she attacked the remaining studs, felt too the hardness of the arousal he couldn’t possibly hide from her and she thrilled at his unashamed need for her. She had assumed that initial enthusiasm would die a death once she was no longer a novelty in his bed but he hadn’t flagged in the slightest. She jerked the shorts down and reached for him.

Angel watched her in fascination. Here she was again taking him by surprise, defying his own expectations with a bold counter-attack, despite her inexperience. And he treasured her ability to disconcert him, revelling in the reality that she appeared to have more interest in his body than she had in the new wardrobe he had bought for her. She was quite unlike any other woman he had ever been with, gloriously unimpressed by his wealth and what he could buy her. Her shy fingers found him, stroked him and the sweet swell of shattering pleasure washed over him. His breath hissed out between his even white teeth. He lay back, giving her control without hesitation.

Merry licked the long, strong column of him, swiping with her tongue, eager to return the favour of his attention even if it meant she delivered a less than polished performance. The muscles on his abdomen rippled, his tension building, his hips rising as a sexy sound of reaction escaped his parted lips and she smiled, loving his responsiveness, his unexpected willingness to let her take charge for a change. She closed him between her lips and he groaned out loud, long fingers knotting into her hair, urging her on, controlling the rhythm.

‘Enough!’ Angel bit out abruptly, pulling her back and slotting her deftly under him, rearranging her for what he really wanted and needed.

Splayed beneath him starfish-mode, Merry cried out as he plunged straight into her, all ferocious urgency and unleashed passion, his lean hips rising and falling between her slender thighs to send jolt after jolt of hot, sweet pleasure surging in waves through her. Her excitement climbed exponentially and when he flipped her over onto her knees and slammed into her again and again while the ball of his thumb stroked against her, he sent her flying into an explosive orgasm that left her sobbing for breath and control in the aftermath.

‘No, that definitely wasn’t fake or you trying to please me,’ Angel murmured with roughened satisfaction in her ear as he gently tugged her hair back from her hot face and planted a lingering kiss there.

* * *

At some stage of the night, Angel shook her awake and her eyes flew open to focus on him in drowsy surprise. He was already fully dressed, sheathed in a sleek business suit, freshly shaven. He sank down on the side of the bed. ‘I’m heading back to London. There’s a stock-market crisis and I prefer to handle it on the spot with my staff around me. I’ve made arrangements for you to fly back first thing tomorrow morning...you need your sleep right now,’ he said, stroking her cheekbone with unexpected tenderness. ‘Once you’ve seen your aunt and your mother you can come and join me.’

Angel stared down at his wife, more than a little unnerved by the guilt sweeping him when he noticed the shadows below her eyes and the weary droop of her eyelids. He had been too demanding. He couldn’t get enough of her in or out of bed and she was so busy being the perfect wife and perfect mother that she wasn’t taking time out for her own needs. He was selfish, had always been selfish, was trying in fits and starts to be less selfish, but when he wanted her with him it was a challenge to defy his own need. Leaving her to sleep the night through was a sacrifice when he would sooner have had her by his side.

‘It drives me mad when you make decisions for me!’ Merry groaned in frustration. ‘I could have flown back with you.’

‘It wouldn’t be fair to take Elyssa out of bed in the middle of the night and you’re already tired out. I suggest that you leave her here with Sally unless you’re planning to stay with your family for a few days,’ Angel opined with an ebony brow rising in question on that score.

Merry sighed, unenthusiastic about the prospect of seeing her mother again. ‘Not very likely. After a couple of hours catching up I’ll probably be glad to escape,’ she forecast ruefully.

Angel sprang upright again, all lithe, sexy elegance and energy, holding her gaze like a live flame burning in the darkness. ‘And I’ll be glad to have you back,’ he declared with a flashing smile that tilted her heart inside her and made her senses hum.

Merry recalled that brief snatch of dialogue over coffee on the terrace the following morning. It was Sally’s day off and Elyssa had just gone upstairs for her nap, leaving her mother free to relax in the sunshine. She smoothed a hand down over the bright red sundress she wore, preventing it from creeping any further up her slender thighs because she didn’t want to flash the gardener engaged in trimming the edges of the lawn.

Angel had bought her a new wardrobe and it had very much his stamp on it. She thought the hemlines were too short, the necklines too revealing or snug in fit and the colour choices too bold, but then she wasn’t used to showing off her figure or seeking attention. Maybe that had been Angel’s nefarious plan all along, she reflected with wry amusement; maybe he hoped to drive her out shopping by landing her with a selection of garments she considered too daring. She certainly wouldn’t put such scheming past him. The lingerie, however, was a superb fit and very much to her taste, plain and comfortable rather than provocative or elaborate.

One of the maids walked onto the terrace to announce a visitor and a moment later Roula Paulides strolled out to join Merry, a wide smile of greeting pinned to her beautiful face. ‘I heard Angel’s helicopter taking off during the night and thought this would be a good opportunity for us to get better acquainted,’ she admitted.

Determined to look welcoming, Merry smiled and ordered fresh coffee. Roula was one of Angel’s most long-standing friends yet Merry was also conscious of the possessive vibe that flared through her whenever she relived how she had once felt seeing her husband in the glamorous blonde’s company.

Roula took a seat, very self-assured in her designer casuals, her blonde hair secured in a stylish twist, her brown eyes bright as she smiled again. And something about that second smile warned Merry that her visitor wasn’t half as relaxed as she was trying to appear.

‘I want to make it clear that I won’t make a habit of visiting like this,’ Roula assured her smoothly as she lifted her coffee cup. ‘We’re both entitled to our privacy. We’ll only occasionally meet when Angel holds a big party because that is the only time he invites me to his home.’

‘You’re welcome to visit any time you like,’ Merry responded easily, wondering if, in a roundabout, devious way, she was being accused of being a jealous, possessive wife likely to resent and distrust any female friend of her husband’s.

‘Oh, that wouldn’t do. Angel wouldn’t allow that,’ Roula declared. ‘He wouldn’t consider that appropriate in the circumstances. I thought he would’ve mentioned our arrangement by now but, although he never justifies his lifestyle, he’s like most men: keen to avoid conflict.’

Merry’s eyes had steadily widened throughout that speech as she struggled to work out what the other woman was talking about. ‘What arrangement?’ she heard herself ask baldly. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.’

Roula Paulides settled cynically amused brown eyes on her. ‘I’m Angel’s mistress. I have been for years.’

For a split second, Merry didn’t believe that she had heard that announcement because it struck her like a blow, freezing her brain into incredulous inactivity, leaving her staring back at her companion in blank disbelief.

Roula lifted and dropped a thin shoulder in acknowledgement. ‘It’s how he lives and I have never been able to refuse Angel anything. If you and I can reach an accommodation that we can both live with, all our lives will run much more smoothly. I’m not the jealous type and I hope you aren’t either.’

Merry sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘Let me get this straight. You came here today to tell me that you’re sleeping with my husband?’

‘Oh, not recently. Angel has no need of me right now with a new wife in his bed,’ the Greek woman declared drily. ‘But in time, when you are no longer a novelty, he will return to me. Other women have always come and gone in his life. I accept that. I’ve always accepted that and if you are wise and wish to remain his wife you will accept it too. You can’t own him, you can’t cage him.’

Merry looked beyond Roula, unnerved by the sudden throbbing intensity of her low-pitched voice and the brash, hard confidence with which she spoke, the suggestion that she knew Angel better than anyone else. On the hill above the village sat the Paulides home, a rather boxy modern white villa, which Angel had casually identified as being where Roula lived. Shock was winging through Merry in giddy waves of increasingly desperate denial, her fingers curling into defensive claws on her lap. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t possibly be true that Angel had some permanent, non-exclusive sexual arrangement with the other woman that he had remained silent about.

‘You seem shocked, but why? We were childhood friends and have always been very close. We understand each other very well,’ Roula told her calmly. ‘In the same way I accepted that after your child was born, Angel would inevitably end up marrying you. He doesn’t love you any more than he loves me but he will do his duty by his daughter. I’m here now only to assure you that I will never try to interfere in your marriage in any way and that I hope you will not be spiteful and try to prevent Angel from seeing me.’

Merry swallowed hard at that unlikely hope. ‘What’s in this weird arrangement for you?’ she asked bluntly.

Roula vented a laugh and tossed her head. ‘I have a share of him. I’m willing to settle for that. I’ve loved him since I was a girl. He rescued my father from bankruptcy and financed the set-up of my beauty salons. When I was younger I hoped that he would eventually see me as a possible wife, but of course that hasn’t happened. Marrying the mistress isn’t in the Valtinos genes.’

Nausea stirred in Merry’s tummy. Swallowing her coffee without choking on it was a challenge. Roula managed to make it all sound so normal, so inevitable. She loved Angel, unashamedly did what it took to hold onto her small stake in his life while accepting that there would be other women and eventually a wife she would have to share him with.

But such acceptance was nowhere within Merry’s grasp. She was an all-or-nothing person. She had told Angel before she agreed to marry him that he could have no other women in his life and that she expected complete fidelity. He had agreed to that boundary. Had he lied? Had he expected her to change her mind? Or had he been planning to be so discreet that she never found out that he sometimes slept with Roula Paulides?

Shock banging through her blitzed brain, Merry struggled to relocate her reasoning powers. Did she simply accept that the blonde was telling her the truth? Why would Roula lie about such a relationship? Could she simply be trying to cause trouble in Merry’s marriage? But what would be the point of that unless she was already engaged in an affair with Angel with something to gain from his marriage breaking down?

And then, according to Roula, Angel had not been with her recently? Or simply since his marriage? Merry’s head was spinning. She wanted to pack her bags, gather up her daughter and run back to the UK to establish a sane and normal life where a blonde beauty did not calmly stroll into her home one morning to announce that she was in love with Merry’s husband and keen to continue having hassle-free sex with him.

Stark pain sliced through Merry, cutting through the numbness of shock. She had been happy, she registered wretchedly, hopelessly, helplessly happy with Angel and their marriage as it was. She had seen nothing to question, nothing to rouse her suspicions. She had believed his promise of fidelity, believed that they had a future, but if she believed Roula her future with Angel could only be a deceitful and fragile farce because she would never ever accept him betraying her with another woman. Nor would she ever share him.

‘Well, you’ve said your piece. Now I think you should leave,’ Merry told Roula quietly, her self-discipline absolute because wild horses could not have dredged a more vulnerable reaction from her.

‘I do hope I haven’t upset you,’ the Greek woman said unconvincingly. ‘I suspected you didn’t know and that wasn’t right.’

As far as Merry was concerned there was nothing right about Roula’s attitude to either Angel or his marriage or even his wife. Roula had developed her own convictions based on what she wanted. Roula, it seemed, lived to please Angel. Merry loved Angel but she had never been blind to his flaws. Had he discounted his intimate relationship with Roula in the same way as he had once ignored the reality that his pregnant former employee might need more than financial support from him?

It would have been uncomfortable for Angel to overcome his own feelings back then and offer Merry his support, and he had been unable to force himself to go that extra mile for her benefit. In the same way being honest about his relationship with Roula would have put paid to any hope of Merry marrying him and sharing their daughter. Was that why he had kept quiet? Or was it possible that he believed the relationship with Roula was at an end? But then wouldn’t Roula know that? Had Angel lied to Merry to get her to the altar? Was he that ruthless?

Oh, yes, a little voice chimed inside her head.