An Imperfect Affair

by Natalie Fox

  He stood up suddenly, taking her by surprise and grasping her arm. ‘Well, it is important, damned important. I want to know what’s going on in that unemotional mind of yours. Tell me, Verity, were you crying?’

  ‘The hell I was!’ she snapped sarcastically. ‘I had my eyes on that dirt track and there were no tears in them, I assure you!’ She shook his hand from her arm. Why was he doing this to her, rubbing her face in the mud? ‘Why did you bother phoning, Rupert, why did you bother coming here?’

  ‘Because I thought we had something going—’

  ‘Something going,’ she echoed. Suddenly she understood and she had to fight back the tears and the pain. He was here because he did care, but the timing, just like that of the loving bride and groom in Andalucía, was way out. Oh, God, if only...

  ‘We had an affair,’ she cut in, ‘a very imperfect affair.’ She laced her voice with contempt because that was the way it had to be. ‘And I can’t see it going any further.’

  ‘I told you in Spain that I wasn’t in a position to offer you anything more.’

  ‘I’m not asking for anything more, Rupert. I never have done. But I don’t want it to go on.’ How it tore at her heart to say that. ‘Andalucía was... well, it was different...’

  ‘A holiday romance?’ he blazed contemptuously.

  ‘Hardly a holiday,’ she spluttered. ‘We were both working our socks off.’

  ‘In and out of bed.’

  Verity flushed. ‘Don’t bring it down to that level,’ she breathed huskily.

  ‘Gutter-level? You brought it down, Verity, by your dismissive attitude on that last day. As if you’d had your fun and it was over and you were quite happy to be going home...’ He stopped, unable to go on, and Verity gazed at him in dismay.

  How could he think that? How could he? Surely he must have known how badly she was hurting and that she was putting on a front to hide her hurt? If only he had said he loved her and wanted to see her back in England because he couldn’t live without her. But he hadn’t, and now it was too late. Minutes ago she had thought he might care, but all he’d come for was to resurrect that Spanish affair.

  Verity braced herself to be hard and resolute. ‘In that case, why suggest I might have been crying as I left? A bit of a contradiction... Look, this is getting us nowhere,’ she breathed sensibly. ‘Now, why are you here? To say that maybe we had something going—’

  ‘I came here to talk to you, over dinner—out, not in—’

  ‘I don’t want to go out—’

  ‘Well, out it’s going to be,’ he rasped thickly, ‘because if we stay here a minute longer I’m going to take you to bed and positively remind you of just what we had going in Andalucía.’ His eyes were smoked dark grey as he issued that warning and Verity didn’t doubt he would do just that.

  ‘Sex,’ Verity hissed in harsh defence, ‘that’s what we had, Rupert, and a lot of it. Too much, because now there isn’t any more left.’

  ‘So damned sure of that, are you?’ He lifted her chin with burning fingers and lowered his lips to hers. Not in a gesture of love or even passion but a gesture of punishment and revenge and to prove a point.

  Verity tore her mouth away, shocked at how cold and unfeeling she could be. But she had to be because now there was no hope. Later would come the remorse and more suffering because he was trying, and she recognised that even if he wasn’t offering her some sort of permanency in their relationship ... he nevertheless wanted it to continue. But she couldn’t, not now that she was... was carrying his child. Because at some stage he would have to know and the trap would close around them both.

  His burning fingers cooled and he grazed them over her jaw. His eyes softened and Verity felt her strength dangerously weaken. Don’t let him say something nice, she prayed.

  ‘Verity. Things have changed since Spain. I’m freer now to offer—’

  ‘I don’t want anything,’ she interrupted painfully. Oh, she did, she wanted it all, his life and love twinned with hers. But now there was a barrier between them that neither of them could have dreamed of.

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ he breathed and his lips came to hers again, and this time there was no anger but for Verity the punishment was worse. His mouth was warm and sensuous, pleading, demanding, seeking her submission.

  And she felt her resolution slipping from her and she was blindly clawing in the dark for something to hold on to.

  ‘Rupert,’ she implored when he eased his lips from hers. She had to try to stop this. ‘You... you wanted to talk... so tell me... what do you mean, freer?’

  It had heatedly crossed her mind that he might have lied about his relationship with Sarah and that they had been married and perhaps now a divorce was imminent. But what difference, what difference?

  He held her gently in his arms now, confident that he had broken down her reserve. ‘I’ve sorted out a few things in my life and my mind,’ he whispered against her pale blonde hair. ‘I want you to come and live with me, Verity.’

  She pulled away from him slightly to look into his face. Her eyes were violet orbs of surprise. ‘Live with you?’ she husked. She hadn’t expected that, not at all.

  He smiled and smoothed a wisp of hair from her temple. ‘Don’t sound so aghast, it’s not a sin, and you said—’

  ‘Yes, I said, didn’t I?’ she murmured, remembering and regretting it now. If two people cared about each other, why not live together? But now she was in love and feeling very different. Surely marriage, that definite, wonderful commitment, was the only way. But Rupert didn’t love her because if he did he would want that as much as she did. But he did want her by his side, so surely that was a caring start? But now, how wrong the timing.

  ‘I... I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’ She lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see her pain.

  ‘Why? It’s no different from us living together in the old mill house.’

  Couldn’t he see that it was? She shook her head and he stilled it with his hands clasped each side of her face. He tilted her face up. ‘Don’t argue with me, Verity,’ he said earnestly. ‘It’s what I want and I believe it’s what you want.’

  Her lashes flickered over her eyes and she bit her lip. ‘I don’t think you’re ready for another relationship so soon after Sarah,’ she husked.

  He laughed softly. ‘That’s my affair and not your problem.’

  ‘But...but it is,’ Verity insisted. All her insecurities flew to the defence of her aching emotions. Sarah, bloody Sarah; he claimed he was free of her but she couldn’t accept that he was. There was something blocking it for her but she didn’t know what.

  Rupert’s eyes darkened. ‘It isn’t, Verity. Leave it alone. It’s history, so forget it. I don’t keep harping on about your affair with Mike, do I?’

  ‘Mike is dead and no threat; Sarah is alive, and you know that’s different.’

  He sighed deeply, slightly edgily. ‘And it always will be in your eyes. Forget it, Verity, forget them. I want you with me and I want to provide for you—’

  ‘And you want to make love to me every night?’

  He missed the aggrieved tone in her voice and gathered her into his arms again. His charisma and sensuality overpowered her as his mouth crushed hers, parting her lips with the insistence of his probing tongue, giving her his answer in the impassioned kiss.

  She felt it all slip out of her grasp, the fight, the reasoning she had thought she had already coped with. How easy to love him, how easy to let him have his way and go and live with him in the hope that he might learn to love her, not just care for her. But the... the baby? So very wrong and out of place in this relationship that was already so unstable.

  His hands slid under her silk shirt and her breasts were ready for him. Engorged and heated and so desperate for his touch. He moaned passionately against her throat and trailed searing kisses down to the opening of her shirt. Easily he released the small pearl buttons and then, so easily and swiftly, he lowered his head to draw f
rom her nipples every last vestige of rebellion.

  She clawed at his hair, closed her eyes and threw her head back to let out a silent mouthed moan of submission. He had such power, such demanding insatiable power over her, and she couldn’t fight it and in that moment didn’t want to. Already his hands were at the zipper of her jeans and her hand came down and helped him.

  Their clothes were discarded with almost indecent rapidity and Rupert with one deep persuasive kiss lowered her to the rug in front of the fire. He straddled her, gently and tenderly caressing her breast and watching the flush of desire rise and deepen the colour of her cheeks.

  ‘You feel different,’ he murmured throatily.

  Surely he couldn’t have noticed the subtle difference in her body? It was only weeks, not months. The pain of having to tell him knifed through her. But not now, she couldn’t tell him now.

  ‘Do I feel different?’ he asked and there was no mistaking the suggestion in his tone.

  She gave herself to him then, smiled up at him and lifted her hands to caress him. As she stroked and smoothed his beautiful muscled arousal she blanked off everything but the pleasure of giving and receiving. She loved him so very much and for the time being it was enough that he wanted her so strongly and passionately.

  His first thrust was tentative, as if afraid to hurt her, as if he knew that a tiny life was blossoming inside her, but he couldn’t know, of course. His life, she mouthed to herself as she urged against him, her body telling him in its frenzy that she wanted him so very deeply inside her. She smoothed his hips and pulled him into her and he responded with such passion that she was suddenly afraid. And then there was no more fear but the dizzy need that couldn’t be held back any longer. Harder and faster and somehow more penetrating than their love-making before, and then that last desperate sprint in case that miraculous feeling slipped out of reach and Rupert steadying her, gripping her hips in that last shuddering penetration as their orgasm spun their hearts and their bodies through space and time.

  Later his kisses soothed her wet brow and his fingers teased the moist silken flesh of her inner thighs.

  ‘You do feel different,’ he whispered.

  She wondered at the heightened awareness of her body. Every sense and nerve pulse seemed crazily near the surface of her skin. Was it because of that tiny bud of life forming deeply within her? Or was it that she had missed him so desperately?

  Rupert moved his hand higher and she felt the heat rise so rapidly that even he was surprised. He laughed, softly against her breast, and as his hand started a pulsing rhythm between her legs his mouth closed over her nipple and in the instant he drew on it Verity arched her back and cried out.

  Minutes later she was still trembling in his arms, shocked at the intensity of what had just happened.

  ‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Whatever, I’m glad.’ He leaned on one elbow and gazed down at her. ‘You have an incredible sexuality.’

  Verity blushed. ‘Don’t you mean insatiability?’ She was embarrassed now.

  ‘That as well,’ he murmured. ‘Parting obviously makes the heart grow fonder.’

  ‘Or needier,’ she responded cryptically, and tried to get up from the rug.

  Rupert pulled her back and his voice was harsh when he spoke. ‘I didn’t like that remark—’

  ‘I didn’t like you making me come like that!’

  ‘For God’s sake, Verity, what’s got into you? We’ve never been this way before.’

  She sat up and buried her head in her knees. ‘I... I don’t understand.’ She really didn’t. They had been so close and uninhibited before, but now... ‘I... I don’t like the power you have over me.’

  ‘What power, for heaven’s sake?’ He tried to prise her head from her knees but she wouldn’t let him. ‘Verity,’ he tried to soothe, ‘we know each other well enough not be shy with each other.’

  ‘Sexually, you mean?’ She raised her head and looked at him. ‘It seems this relationship is all about sex. OK, so we’re good together in bed or on the floor or wherever, but is it good enough for us to live together? You came here tonight with all your demands off pat, but what about me?’

  ‘What about you?’ he asked incredulously.

  ‘Yeah, what about me?’ she drawled sarcastically. She struggled up and reached down for her shirt and slid it round her shoulders. ‘You demand too much, Rupert, you expect too much. You insist I go and live with you; well, perhaps I don’t want to. Perhaps I want—’

  ‘Marriage?’ he rasped bitterly.

  Oh, no, suddenly this wasn’t about marriage. It was about loving and caring, and Rupert Scott had shown none of that. But by the very mention of marriage he must assume that she loved him enough to want that. Well, she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing she cared that deeply for him.

  ‘I don’t care a mouldy fig for marriage.’ Her eyes were very vivid when she added with a challenge, ‘You want me to live with you? OK, I will, but I live my own life—’

  ‘Don’t start bargaining with me!’

  ‘No bargaining, Rupert, take it or leave it, I’ll live with you but I go my own way and I don’t mean with men. I mean with my career and what I do with it, and my time. Yes, my time—’

  ‘Forget it, then,’ he slammed back brutally. He got up and started to throw his clothes on, far more determinedly than he had discarded them. ‘I want you in my life but I don’t want a repeat of what I’ve been through before—life with conditions.’

  ‘You wouldn’t get it because I’m not the jealous, possessive type. I wouldn’t grizzle if you stayed out all night. I wouldn’t be another Sarah in your life,’ she flamed. She would, though; she was lying through her teeth, because she’d be exactly like Sarah, wanting him to spend time with her, hating every minute he was out of her life.

  ‘I repeat, forget it. I’ve just got rid of one helluva bitch and I don’t need another!’

  Verity realised she had been backtracking with her last remark. Dizzily she rubbed at her forehead. She didn’t know what she was doing or saying any more. She’d actually agreed to go and live with him and she didn’t know why she’d said it. Desperation perhaps. Suddenly her head cleared.

  ‘Wait, Rupert,’ she murmured as he slid into his suit jacket and turned away as if to leave.

  He stopped and looked at her warily.

  ‘Let me make some coffee and let’s talk some more.’ Suddenly she desperately wanted him to stay. She did want to talk. She wanted to find out what he truly wanted and if there was a remote chance of making something of this crazy relationship.

  ‘You mean bargain some more?’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘No sale, Verity. I’ve made my offer and you take it or leave it.’

  What was the use? It was all one way with him, his way. ‘You selfish bastard!’ she grazed spitefully at him.

  ‘Substitute bitch for bastard and you have a perfect description of yourself,’ he retorted with deathly calm. ‘You’re up and down like a Yo-Yo and I’m not even going to question what you really want, Verity, because I don’t think you know yourself—’

  ‘But I know what you want, Rupert,’ she flamed back. ‘You want what you came here for tonight, sex on demand, and to make it easier for yourself you want me on an intravenous drip in your own house so you don’t even have to go out for it—’

  She thought he was going to be the first man to strike her. Her head reeled as he crunched her shoulders up round her ears.

  ‘What the hell has got into you since you got back from Andalucia? You’re different, a rotten little spoiled brat!’

  ‘And what are you but a spoiled brat too?’ she cried. ‘All I hear from you is self, self, self. My life isn’t a consideration. I said if I came to live with you I’d want my own life, but you’re not even willing to...’ Her voice trailed away on a sea of realisation. It swirled around her, spinning her crazily. She had made it clear to him that she wanted a life but he didn’t wa
nt her to have one. Love or mere possessiveness? There could be a thin line between the two or a yawning gap. She didn’t know which, but if she lived with him she would surely find out. Did she want to go that far?

  Oh, God, she did. She loved him and she was desperate for him to love her, so she had to give him a chance but... but there was so much that frightened her. She didn’t want to be another Sarah.

  ‘Rupert,’ she went on, and because her voice wasn’t so shrill he eased the pressure on her shoulders. ‘I have to say this and please don’t tell me to forget it. It’s something I need to know...’

  ‘Dear God, not Sarah again?’ His eyes were black with suppressed fury but suddenly they softened. ‘Look, get it out of your system because it’s obviously blocking your reasoning.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ she insisted and then bit her lip because she knew it was. ‘It’s nothing major. But you said... you implied tonight that you’d just got rid of her and I... I thought you’d said she’d left six months before.’

  His grip turned to a gentle caress. ‘Darling, she did. I didn’t lie to you and it’s what I meant when I said I was freer now, freer to offer you more. Since Sarah left I’ve been maintaining her, paying her bills...’

  ‘Guilt money?’ Verity ventured in a tight whisper.

  He nodded. ‘Partly; I mistreated her and I was sorry for that. She got her vengeance, though, but all that’s in the past now and I want you to forget, as I’ve done. She’s well and truly out of my life now.’

  ‘And you want me in now?’

  A hand spurred through his hair in frustration. ‘Not the way you make it sound, Verity, as if I’m exchanging one for the other. It isn’t like that. I want you in my life and I intend to have you.’

  ‘And... and when you’ve finished with me, will you pay me off the same way?’

  She didn’t know why she was doing this, pushing him, pushing him. Then she knew: if she shoved hard enough he might tell her exactly why he wanted her in his life, because up until now she had only her own feeble hopes to hang on to.

  ‘I’m going to treat that remark with the contempt it deserves,’ he told her darkly, ‘and ignore it.’ His thumbs dug into her shirt. ‘Get dressed, Verity. We’re going out to dinner to discuss how quickly you can move in with me, because I’m not taking no for an answer.’