A High Price to Pay (20 page)

with Melanie, and know that he no longer belonged to her.

Not that he ever had, she thought sadly, but for a while she had been

able to pretend.

She had taken refuge on the window seat in her bedroom, but now she

was beginning to get cramped and even a little chilly. With a slight

start, she realised she had been sitting there for over an hour. She got

down stiffly, shaking the creases out of her dress, then paused,

immobile, her attention totally arrested as the door opened and Nick

walked into the room.

'Don't look so startled,' he advised cynically as he closed the door

behind him. 'You can't pretend you weren't expecting a visit from me.'

She found a voice from somewhere. 'And I thought I'd made it clear

that I didn't want to be disturbed.'

'Perhaps I chose to consult my own wishes instead,' he said. 'I have to

talk to you, Alison, and this seems to be the only place where I can be

guaranteed not to have some kind of audience.'

'I don't want to talk,' she protested. 'I—I'm not feeling well.'

The dark brows lifted. 'Then your upset clearly isn't the temporary

thing you tried to make out. I'd better get you a doctor.'

'No!' She was aware of the panicky note in her voice, and made a grab

for composure. 'I don't need a doctor. Just some rest.'

'Then why aren't you in bed already?' he demanded. 'Stop twitching

like a cat on hot bricks. I'll say what I have to say, and then get out, if

that's what you want.'

'That is precisely what I want.' She lifted her chin and met his gaze

full on.

'That sounds remarkably like a gauntlet being thrown down,' Nick

remarked softly. 'I'm tempted to test your stony resolve, my sweet.'

Alison took a step backwards. 'Leave me alone,' she said bleakly.

'This confrontation was your idea, not mine.'

'That's certainly true,' he agreed. 'I get the impression that no power

on earth could make you voluntarily agree to be alone with me.'

She shrugged. 'Why should I make a secret of it? And why should it

matter to you anyway? I'm sure you don't go short of—alternative

company.'

His eyes narrowed. 'I don't think there's anything to be gained by

pursuing that particular line,' he said coolly. 'Although it fits in with

what I've come to say to you, in a way.' He paused. 'I think it's

obvious to us both that things can't continue as they are. I think the

time has come to put an end to this travesty of a marriage, and…'

'And you want a divorce?' Alison interrupted. Speaking the actual

words herself might make them easier to bear. 'Yes—I agree. And as

soon as possible.'

There was a long, almost stunned silence. Eventually Nick said, 'Just

like that?'

'Did you think you were such a great matrimonial prize that I'd hang

on to you at all costs?' Alison queried, investing her tone with icy

sarcasm. 'No, I'm as keen to regain my freedom as you are. I think a

clean break is best. I—I shan't make any demands on you. I'm

working, and I get a reasonable salary. I don't want alimony.'

'You're not being offered it,' he said curtly. 'And I think the whole

matter requires a little more discussion, although I can understand

why your freedom, as you put it, should suddenly seem to attractive

to you. Perhaps while you still bear my name, you and your lover

could restrain your public demonstrations of affection.'

She stared at him. 'What the hell do you mean?'

'I like the injured tone,' he said cynically. 'I'm sorry I didn't warn you I

was arriving today, so that you could be a little more discreet. As it

was, I was an interested eye-witness as you and Thwaite took your

fond farewell of each other in full view of the entire market square.'

'I don't know what you think you saw,' Alison began, but he

interrupted, his voice savage.

'I don't think, darling, I know. I saw you kiss him, and I had plenty of

time to observe the way he was looking at you. He's clearly besotted

with you.'

'You're totally mistaken,' she protested. 'That— that was just a

friendly gesture.'

'Oh, stop all this injured innocence,' Nick snapped with cutting

impatience. 'I suppose I should have expected it. You did warn me,

after all, my darling, that you weren't prepared to live like a nun. And

we both know, don't we, how deeply those still waters of yours run.

It's a pity you couldn't have found yourself a more exciting lover.' He

walked forward, and again Alison was forced to retreat. He said,

'Perhaps we should compare notes, although my experience of you

may well be more limited than his. Does he know, for instance, that

when you reach your climax, your eyes change from cool hazel to

bright green, like a, little cat's?'

Blood burned its way into Alison's face. She lifted her hands and

pressed them to her ears. 'Don't,' she begged. 'You're wrong—quite

wrong. And—even if ...' She hesitated.

'Yes?' he prompted chillingly. 'What were you going to say?'

Her teeth sank into her lower lip for an instant. 'That—you have no

cause to reproach me. Or are you trying to pretend that you've been a

model husband since our marriage?'

'I don't know what a model husband is,' he said coolly, it sounds very

dull.'

'And that sounds very evasive.' Her voice shook a little. 'But there's

no need to play with words, Nick. You see—I know.' She swallowed.

'I know that you've been seeing Melanie secretly.' As his face

darkened, she went on hastily, 'Oh, I don't blame her. She's very

young and impressionable, and you must seem very glamorous to her.

I always knew she tended to have a—a crush on you. And in all ways,

she'd make you a more suitable wife. I—I don't pretend otherwise.'

There was a silence. Then, 'That's very gracious of you,' he drawled.

'You've really got it all worked out, haven't you? Melanie for me, and

Thwaite for yourself. How civilised! We could make up a four at

bridge.'

She winced. 'Don't! Isn't it better to try to be— civilised about these

things?'

Nick shrugged. 'That depends on your viewpoint, I suspect. Besides,

civilisation is only a veneer, my sweet. Threaten any one of us, and

you'll find pure caveman underneath. Or has no one ever warned you

about that?' He took another step forward.

The edge of the bed was pressing against the backs of her legs and she

couldn't retreat any further.

'Please don't do this.' She was ashamed to hear how tremulous her

voice sounded. 'I suppose your pride is hurt because I want out of this

marriage as much as you do.'

'Now that I doubt,' he said harshly. 'And I think my pride will survive,

even if a little dented. God forbid that I should keep you tied to me

and miserable.'

There was a note in his voice that seared along her nerve-endings.

She said, 'This way, neither of us need be miserable again.' She

couldn't meet his gaze. 'And now that we've said—all we need to

say—perhaps you'd go, and leave me in peace.'

'Peace?' Nick asked savagely. 'What's that? I don't think I've known a

moment of it since I laid eyes on you. You'll have years of—peace

ahead of you, if that's what you want, once we've been through the

divorce court. But in the meantime, we're still married to each other,

and I intend to take full advantage of the fact!'

His arms went round her, dragging her against him, then she was

crushed—suffocated under the burning pressure of his mouth.

She tried to struggle, to push him away, but he was too powerful, too

determined, lifting her off her feet to put her down on the bed,

following her down while that endless, draining kiss still went on.

She could hardly breathe. She certainly couldn't speak or resist, and

suddenly she knew she didn't want to. If this was to be their farewell

to each other, then, however it had begun, she would cherish, every

moment of it.

When at last Nick took his mouth from hers, she didn't speak. Instead,

she lifted her hands and stroked his hair, following the growth of its

springing thickness down to the nape of his neck, her fingers sliding

round to caress the strong column of his throat.

He drew a deep, unsteady breath and began to touch her in turn, his

hands rediscovering the slender curves of her flesh, the delicate

planes and angles of her body's bone structure through the thin

material of her dress.

He handled her, she thought dazedly, as if she was some rare and

precious object, all too easily broken. Yet she was broken

already—control, pride, self-respect all smashed to tiny pieces on the

wheel of her yearning for him.

Already in these few brief moments she was faint with wanting him,

her head light, her body, heavy and languid, welcoming the

hardening, urgent pressure of his against her. It was a need she

recognised and shared.

Nick sat up, lifting her with him, holding her for a long time breast to

breast while his lips touched her face in a myriad tiny kisses, falling

like honeyed fire on her responsive mouth. At last he turned her

gently in his arms, and she felt his fingers part the smooth fall of her

hair, and his lips touch the back of her bared neck. She shivered as his

mouth traced a path down between her shoulder blades to the

neckline of her dress. He took the metal tongue of her zip between his

teeth and tugged it down, his hands stroking the dress from her

shoulders, letting the fabric fall in a soft pool around her hips. He

unhooked her bra and slipped the fragile straps down her arms, so that

there was no further impediment to the passage of his mouth down

the long delicate curve of her spine.

Alison arched her back in instinctive, sensual delight, and gasped as

his hands slid round her to cup the urgent thrust of her breasts, his

fingers a warm torment on the sensitive peaks. She made alittle sound

in her throat as her whole body convulsed in wanton physical craving.

She twisted round to face him, kneeling on the bed, pushing away the

crumpled dress with shaking hands, watching him, her eyes fever-

bright.

Nick shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, unknotting his

tie with swift taut movements. She waited while he took the thin gold

links from his cuffs, but when he began to unbutton his shirt, she

stopped him. She was trembling violently, and it made her clumsy,

tugging impatiently at the fabric as she freed the buttons, but at last it

was done, and she could touch him as she wanted to, stroking the

palms of her hands across the width of his shoulders and down over

his chest, watching the flare in his eyes as her fingertips stroked and

caressed. She leaned forward and kissed him, sliding the tip of her

tongue along his lower lip, brushing his nipples deliberately with her

own.

He took her by the hips, his hands sliding inside her lace briefs to find

the silken flesh beneath, moulding and exploring until he reached the

warm, moist eagerness of her, and lingered. She moaned, moving

restlessly against his hand, urging him to pleasure her.

Reality had totally receded. There was nothing in the world but this

room, this bed, this man, his weight pressing her down into the

softness of the mattress, his mouth exploring the naked vulnerability

of throat and shoulders and breasts, his whole being tautly

concentrated on the warm, sensual frenzy his caresses were arousing

in her.

She wanted so much more—tried to tell him so in a voice she barely

recognised as her own. Nick lifted himself away slightly, freeing

himself from the remainder of his clothes, and then he was with her as

she had yearned for him to be, her body melting and supple as she

received him, his strength and warmth encompassed in her grace.

Their mouths met and clung heatedly, mirroring the passionate

exchange of their bodies. Alison discovered reserves of desire in

herself, depths of response she had never suspected she was capable

of. She clung to Nick, arms and legs twined fiercely round him, her

hands stroking the sweat- dampened skin of his back as he urged her

with him beyond all the limits of experience, beyond any wildest

dream.

The release, when it came, was anguished, almost frightening in its

intensity. She was crying out soundlessly, her body splintering in an

intensity of pleasure, holding him closer and closer as she tried to

absorb the moment and make it last for ever.

She thought deliriously, He's mine. And then, ice closing round her

heart, she remembered ...

And with remembrance came a bitter shame that she had allowed this

to happen—wanted so desperately for it to happen.