by Penny Jordan
‘Lissa.’ He said her name in a thickly unfamiliar voice. ‘Do that again,’ he commanded, moving so that her mouth was pressed against his shoulder. A deep shudder ran right through him as she automatically complied, touching his skin with her tongue with nervous delicacy, stunned that such a brief physical contact should apparently have so much power to move him. His hand found her breast, his thumb rubbing urgently against her swollen nipple. Lissa forgot that he didn’t love her, silencing her moan of anguished desire against the warm flesh of his throat. She felt his body surge against her own and recklessly arched up against him prolonging the tingling contact. Joel bent his head, his mouth fiercely claiming the aroused peak of her breast, his fingers caressing its twin.
Lissa arched and writhed beneath him, her nails raking helplessly against his skin, desire exploding tumultuously inside her as Joel continued to arouse spirals of unbearable delight inside her, tiny darts of fire running shuddering through her body from its point of contact with the fierce heat of his mouth.
‘You’re my wife, Lissa.’ He said it thickly, against her skin, whether as a reminder that he had every right to make love to her if he chose, or as an explanation for the fact that he was doing so, she didn’t know. She ought to stop him, to remind him that he didn’t love her, but her treacherous body ached too much for the sweet agony of consummation. When he removed the rest of their clothing she didn’t stop him, simply watching him silently. Shadows made a subtle play of shading against his skin, one moment soft gold the next bronze. She ached to touch him Lissa acknowledged, watching him as he bent over her, removing her underclothes.
A slight shiver ran through her as his hand brushed her hip.
‘Cold?’
She shook her head as his hand curled round the spot he had just touched. He was kneeling beside her, and when she first felt the light brush of his tongue where his hand had rested she thought she must be imagining it. Her head lifted and swivelled round and she gasped as she felt the brief caress again. Her skin quivered responsively where he had touched it, darting quick-silver thrills of pleasure running from nerve ending to nerve ending. She could hardly believe it when Joel bent his head and slowly started to drag his tongue over the slight swell of her stomach. She jerked away from him in helpless torment, but he imprisoned her against the bed, his hands holding the narrow bones of her hips, while his tongue left quivering trails of moist destruction over her skin.
Lissa was completely powerless to stop him, and after a while she no longer wanted to try, held thrall to the swift, leaping fires of pleasure that burned inside her. At first she twisted helplessly from side to side as much in an attempt to escape the devastation of her senses as to avoid Joel’s skilfully delicate touch, but all her struggles seemed to do was to give him access to areas of her skin that seemed even more responsive to him than the others had been.
‘Joel what are you dong?’ she managed to demand huskily at one point, tensing agonisingly as his tongue described a slow circle round her navel and then dipped tormentingly to explore its slight indentation.
‘Just trying to keep you warm,’ he replied suavely, ‘you are getting warm aren’t you Lissa?’ he tormented softly.
Warm? She was burning up, her skin on fire.
By the time Joel’s slow devastation of her body had reached her breasts she was shivering helplessly, aching for the full consummation of his possession. He kissed the tender fullness of their curves with mind-destroying slowness until Lissa couldn’t hold back the fevered protest that left her lips. Once that final wall in her defences had been breached she couldn’t keep silent her agonised pleas for him to end her torment, shattering the thick silence of the night, until Joel reached up and silenced her by pressing his finger against her mouth. Her lips parted, her tongue running frantically over the tips of his fingers, until driven half mad by the slow drift of his mouth against her breast she sucked feverishly on his fingers.
Dimly she was aware of Joel groaning, of him shifting his weight so that his body lay between her thighs, his lips exploring her throat, in between muttering hoarse words of praise and enticement against her skin. He withdrew his fingers from her mouth, brushing the outline of her lips with his thumb, lifting his head to look deeply into her eyes, his hands moving slowly down over her body, lifting it into his own.
Lissa shivered, trembling with aching desire. ‘Tell me you want me more than you wanted him,’ Joel demanded softly, watching her.
For a moment Lissa’s mind was completely blank, and then when she realised the truth she could have wept with anguish. Joel had done this to her, aroused her to a pitch where her need for him was a throbbing ache that threatened to consume her, simply because his pride demanded that she want him more than she wanted Simon. If only he knew!
‘Tell me!’
His face blurred for a moment as she blinked away tears. ‘I want you more than I want Simon, Joel,’ she said shakily at last. ‘Much more.’
It was after all no less than the truth, and what he had done to her diminished him as much as it did her. Her body which had ached and hungered for his possession felt curiously drained of all feeling as he moved slowly and skilfully within her, rather like an overwound toy that was now broken, Lissa thought hazily, conscious of an overwhelming desire to break down and cry. Where she had ached for physical fulfilment now she ached for an emotional commitment to match her own. She heard Joel swear and then withdraw from her, but she was feeling too numb and lacerated to react.
‘Lissa … what’s wrong?’ There was a raw uncertainty in Joel’s voice that made her want to reach out and comfort him, but something stopped her. Joel didn’t want her, he wanted Marisa. She felt her heart harden and shrink into a block of ice.
‘Lissa!’
The tone of his voice demanded a response, but all she could manage was a flat, ‘Using substitutes doesn’t seem to work, does it, Joel?’ before she slid down into a yawning black void of nothingness.
CHAPTER NINE
SHE WAS VIOLENTLY ILL when she woke up in the morning—a sure sign that she must have eaten something that disagreed with her, Lissa thought as she washed and dressed.
Joel was up already, and mentally thanking God that she did not have to face him she made her way downstairs. They could not go on the way they were, last night had shown her that. What had happened to the compassionate tender man she had briefly known? She went into the kitchen, grimacing when she caught the smell of bacon and eggs.
Mrs Fuller looked at her in concern.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Just a little queasy,’ Lissa explained. ‘Something I ate, I expect.’
The housekeeper grinned at her. ‘If you say so.’
It was several seconds before the import of her teasing remark sank into Lissa’s consciousness. When it did, she went pale and sat down heavily on one of the chairs, staring blankly at the wall. Dear God, she hadn’t thought of that! What if she should be pregnant?
Impossible! Hardly, an inner voice taunted her—in fact it was all too probable. She had simply never thought about using any form of birth control. It had never been necessary. While she was trying to come to terms with her shock, Joel and the girls walked in. All three of them looked healthily windblown, their cheeks glowing, Emma on Joel’s shoulder, while Louise clung to his hand.
‘Joel said we were to let you rest,’ Louise announced, releasing Joel to run over to Lissa, clambering on to her knee and cuddling into her. She was discovering in her elder niece a very deep need to exhibit her affections physically, and Lissa responded to her unspoken plea for reassurance, hugging and kissing her.
‘We went for a walk,’ Emma announced as Joel placed her in her high chair.
Mrs Fuller served them breakfast, and Lissa felt relieved when she was simply given two slices of dried toast. Joel raised his eyebrows.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Lissa told him hastily, avoiding his eyes, and grateful for the housekeeper when she kept silent, merely exc
hanging a thoughtful glance with her over Joel’s downbent head. She had dreaded facing him this morning after the way she was sure she must have betrayed herself to him last night, but now she had something even more worrying on her mind. What on earth would she do if she was pregnant?
Stop thinking about it, she cautioned herself, it’s probably nothing … too much rich food last night. She ought to have been reassured, but somehow she was not.
When he looked at her again there was a strange bitter tension in his eyes, a tightness to his mouth that took her back to that night almost ten years ago. Unknowingly she flinched, pushing her plate away, shivering slightly, aware of Joel getting up and coming towards her, and almost cringing away from him as he did so. How could she bear to have him touch her now when she knew that every time he did, it was another woman he had in his heart.
The phone rang shrilly, the sound harsh and challenging. Joel frowned, glanced at her, and then walked across the kitchen to pick up the receiver. Once he had moved away from her Lissa was conscious of an easing of the constriction in her muscles. Louise and Emma were both far too young yet to be aware of the strained atmosphere between the adults, but Mrs Fuller must have noticed it. If only she had known about Marisa before she agreed to marry Joel! Even loving him as she now admitted she did, she would not have done so. While she had thought there was no other woman in his life she had hoped, ridiculously no doubt, that somehow a miracle would occur and Joel would eventually turn to her with more than mere physical desire and compassion.
Compassion! She checked a bitter little laugh. There had been precious little of that between them these last few days. In fact if she hadn’t seen that other side of him she would never have believed it existed.
‘Lissa.’
She turned at the sound of Joel’s voice, abrupt and grim. ‘It’s for you,’ he told her, holding out the receiver. ‘Guess.’
Simon? Ringing her, but why, Lissa wondered, automatically getting up and walking over to the phone.
Joel moved away the moment she reached him. He looked angry, she noticed, his mouth compressed. A spurt of defiant anger welled up inside her. If it was permissible for him to have his affair with Marisa then what right had he to look so annoyed simply because another man telephoned her.
She turned her back on him, holding the receiver close to her ear.
‘Lissa is that you?’
‘Yes, Simon.’
‘Look, I’m just ringing to apologise for the other day. I know I was out of line.’
Lissa listened absently to his apologies, conscious all the time of Joel’s presence in the room.
‘How about lunch one day just to show that I’m forgiven,’ Simon suggested.
‘Lunch?’ Lissa turned round and met the coldly condemning look in Joel’s eyes. She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, why not,’ she agreed gaily. ‘I’ll give you a ring, shall I?’
They chatted for several more minutes, although when she eventually replaced the receiver, she couldn’t have said what they talked about. A feeling of almost frightening exhilaration had lifted her out of her previous misery, and she knew it came from knowing that at least if she did not have the power to move Joel to love, she could move him to anger. She was flirting with danger, she warned herself as she sat down again, avoiding Joel’s eyes, but why not? Joel didn’t want her himself … so why should he get angry because he thought someone else did.
She already knew the answer to that question, Lissa reminded herself.
Joel had made it plain enough when they married that he expected and intended to have her fidelity. But then she had expected something in return from him. Not love perhaps, but loyalty at least … an attempt to preserve the fiction that they had married because in part he cared for her. She had not expected to have his mistress flaunted openly in front of her without any show of concern about how she might feel.
She had half expected Joel to tackle her about Simon’s phone call, but in the event he said nothing, and somehow that was worse.
As the days passed Lissa had the distinctly unpleasant sensation of something hanging ominously over her, a sensation too uncomfortably reminiscent of her childhood for her to bear it easily. She was also still suffering from nausea, and an acute nervous tension, which she knew she was communicating to Louise. The little girl had become clinging and petulant, and while Lissa fully understood and sympathised with her insecurity, the constant succession of broken nights they were enduring with Louise’s recurrent nightmares were beginning to take their toll on her. Joel was so cold and distant towards her that she could hardly believe that they had ever really been lovers. He spent far more time away from the house, often going out in the evening and returning late. Lissa never questioned him as to where he had been, her stubborn pride refusing to allow her to let him see how much he was hurting her.
One week went by and then another. She had lost weight and there were dark circles under her eyes. Mrs Fuller who could not have failed to notice the atmosphere that existed between Joel and herself, and his constant absences, said nothing, but Lissa was acutely aware of her silent sympathy. It struck her that being a local Mrs Fuller might be quite aware of Joel’s relationship with Marisa, and that too stung her pride.
She had intended to start Louise at playschool, but she herself felt far too lethargic to do anything about it. The last week in March, the temperature suddenly dropped several degrees, and Joel, for once appearing for dinner remarked that he felt they could expect snow. He frowned slightly as he said it, and Lissa guessed he was thinking of the safety of the stock.
Lissa had never realised until these last few weeks how lonely and cold a double bed could be when it was shared with a man one loved who felt nothing but indifference tinged with anger in return.
‘Are you … are you planning on going out again tonight?’ She wished she hadn’t voiced the impulsive question when he frowned. For a moment she thought he didn’t intend to reply and then he said suavely, ‘Why, had you got something planned yourself?’
His blatant indifference and coldness towards her defeated her. She wanted to talk to him, to plead with him to discuss the state of their marriage and what future if any he envisaged for them. The sudden change in his attitude towards her was still something she hadn’t really come to terms with. There were days when she felt completely muddled, unable to understand why he had changed from the tender considerate lover to whom she had given her heart and body to this cold, withdrawn man he was now. Maybe it was because he felt guilty about making love to her, seeing it as a betrayal of his love for Marisa? Maybe it was as she had originally thought, that he feared she would read into his lovemaking a greater emotional commitment than he was prepared to give her. Either way there was only one way she would learn the truth and that was for him to tell her, but he continually blocked all her attempts to talk seriously to him on any subject other than the children. What hurt almost more than all the rest put together was that to the girls he was still the same loving, compassionate person he had been right from the very start, underlining for her, if she had needed that doing … that it was her and her alone that brought out the cold distance in him she was now experiencing.
Lissa went to bed early while Joel was still out. She heard him come in and move about the bedroom, preparing for bed. Lying beneath the bedclothes she trembled with aching tension longing for him to turn to her and take her in his arms, but knew even as she did so that she was longing for the impossible. She closed her eyes, squeezing back weak tears. Sooner or later she would have to tell him of her suspicions that she was carrying his child. What would his reaction be? It was impossible to doubt his love for Louise and Emma, and in other circumstances, had she been Marisa for instance, she had little doubt that the news would have overjoyed him. But she was not Marisa, and the fact that she was to have his child would create another tie between them … a tie she was sure he would not want. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. If she was pregnant there was nothing she wanted
more than to have his child … but how could she bring it into the world knowing how Joel felt about her?
The first thing Lissa noticed when she woke up was the pure clarity of the light streaming in through the curtains. As she sat up and glanced curiously towards the window, Joel walked in from the bathroom. His hair clung damply to his scalp, moisture beading his bare chest. He had wrapped a towel round his hips and Lissa felt the beginnings of reactionary sensations erupt inside her. It was a physical effort to drag her gaze away from him. Her heart was thudding heavily, her mouth dry.
‘I see it snowed during the night,’ Joel commented, flicking back a curtain, his comment explaining the unfamiliar brightness. ‘Only a couple of inches by the looks of it, but there’s more on the way. We’ll need to make arrangements for feeding the stock in case it gets worse.’
