A Kiss From Satan

by Anne Hampson

  ‘Just ring the bell, will you, Gale?’ he commanded smoothly, flicking a languid hand to indicate the bell which was closer to her than to him. ‘Apollo can serve

  the lunch now.’

  Chastened, and with a spanked-child feeling, Gale obeyed, then rose from her chair. Julius rose also and reached for her hand as she would have passed him. And before she could collect herself at this unexpected action he was pressing his lips to hers in that masterful, possessive way which never failed to subdue any antagonism she might be feeling towards him. But his eyes glinted at the lack of response which on this particular occasion she was able to sustain.

  ‘I should have beaten you,’ he said decisively. ‘It’s the only way with a woman like you.’ His arms were about her; momentarily his eyes moved to one of the bruises and he seemed to swallow something in his throat. But it was a fleeting gesture and one which, now that it was gone, left Gale in some doubt as to whether or not she had imagined it. ‘Am I to take it that my kisses are not now welcome?’ Despite the content of the question his air was one of supreme confidence. Drat the man! If only he would refrain from flaunting his superiority, his confidence of reducing her to complete surrender. Pompous, conceited creature, inflated by the arrogance of the conqueror! She said, tossing her head as she threw him a speaking glance,

  ‘They’re most unwelcome! I hate them!’

  ‘How extraordinary,’ he drawled, lazy suddenly and indifferent. ‘I always had the impression that my kisses ... and my caresses,’ he added, slanting her an amused glance because already a blush had risen in advance of what he was about to say, ‘gave you immense pleasure.’ She looked at him, her blush deepening.

  ‘I once told you modesty was not one of your virtues,’ she reminded him, acutely conscious of the touch of his hands on her arms even in this, one of her most alienated moods.

  ‘And I said that insincerity was not one of my vices. You can’t do without me, Gale, and yet you won’t admit it—’

  ‘I can do without you,’ she flashed, twisting out of his grasp. ‘I can!’

  ‘Who are you trying to convince - yourself?’ and he added before she could find a fitting retort to that, ‘You’re certainly not convincing me, my dear, and you never will. Come,’ he said, suddenly brisk and impersonal, ‘let’s get our lunch. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten.’

  She had known, all the afternoon and evening, that he would stay in his own room again tonight, and yet for a long while after getting into bed she had watched that door, slightly ajar, and shining brilliant white in the light from the moon streaming in through her window. She had watched it long and hard and in the end realizing she was almost willing it to move, move softly inwards, admitting her husband who would come to her, and look down from his superior height, look into her dreamy eyes for a long while before slipping out of his dressing-gown. . ..

  At last she slept, fitfully as on the previous night. And she awoke tired and unhappy and with an almost irrepressible inclination to go into her husband’s room and talk. About what? How did a wife go to her husband and inform him that she wanted him? A deep sigh escaped her. There was still the world of differences between the privileges of the sexes. Julius could come to her, but she could not go to him— She could, of course, but what sort of a reception would she get? If Julius had wanted her he would have come. ... Or was he deliberately testing her? He’d firmly asserted that she couldn’t do without him, had confidently declared that his kisses and caresses gave her immense pleasure.

  And of course he was right.

  So now he was testing her. Suddenly she had no doubts at all about the reason for his staying away from her. Her blood boiled. He would be the one to regret this! For when he did come, which he would — oh, yes, Gale was very sure of that - when he did come, then she would show him whether she could do without him or not! Whatever the effort she would resist him. He should not continue in this state of arrogant confidence that he had married a woman whom he could without effort reduce to his willing and eager slave. She was no Greek girl — servile because she had been brought up to regard the male sex as superior in every sense of the word. If that was what Julius wanted then he should have married one of his own kind.

  After bathing and dressing Gale listened automatically for his outer door to open, and for him to go downstairs, but all was silent. Surely he wasn’t still sleeping? With a shrug she went down. He was already at the breakfast table and had actually started eating. She stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring in disbelief. Julius, a stickler for etiquette, had never before begun a meal until she herself had put in an appearance.

  ‘Have you been down long?’ The question was put as she sat down, the product of awkwardness. She never even looked at him as, picking up a spoon, she dug it into the grapefruit Apollo had placed ready for her.

  ‘Twenty minutes or so.’ A pause and then, ‘Sleep well?’

  She licked her lips.

  ‘Of course. Did you?’

  He laughed and shook his head, not in a negative gesture but in one of impatience amounting almost to asperity.

  ‘I happen to be one of those fortunate people who rarely finds sleep elusive. Yes, my dear Gale, I slept like a log, thank you.’

  He was laughing at her, inwardly. On the surface his manner became indifferent, and the meal was eaten without further words passing between him and his wife.

  And this state of indifference on his part and of stubbornness on Gale’s continued for the next three days. They swam each morning, but were almost as strangers. Daphne joined them on one occasion and the difference in Julius’s manner was quite literally staggering. He smiled and chatted; he laughed at his ex-girlfriend’s jokes, and finally asked her up to the villa for lunch the following

  day.

  ‘I’m not having her at my table!’ snapped Gale as they drove home. ‘I can’t think how you could ask her. It’s a disgraceful thing to harbour one of your - your—’ She broke off on noting the sudden compression of her husband’s mouth. A repetition of that other scene was the last thing she desired, so she prudently re-phrased her words. ‘It isn’t very nice of you to bring Daphne to our house. You know full well it will embarrass me.’

  ‘Just a neighbourly gesture,’ he returned without the slightest interest. ‘She’ll probably ask us up to her place very shortly.’

  ‘I shan’t go!’

  ‘That’s up to you. I shall most certainly accept her invitation.’

  ‘I’m not having her tomorrow,’ Gale warned again, and this time her husband’s head shot round and she noted the glint in his eye and the flaring of his nostrils, as on that other occasion.

  ‘You have no say in the matter,’ he told her crisply. ‘Watch yourself, Gale, you’ve already had a demonstration of my temper. I should have thought it would be the last thing you’d want to see again.’

  ‘You’re threatening me with violence if I refuse to have Daphne in our home?’

  ‘I’ve just said you’ve no say in the matter,’ he reminded her. ‘Daphne comes to lunch tomorrow and you will be civil to her. Understand?’

  ‘I can’t be civil to her!’ To her own amazement tears came readily to her eyes. ‘I hate her! So how can I be civil to her?’

  ‘Hate her, do you ...?’ almost to himself as he brought the car on to the front by the verandah. ‘That’s rather a strong word, surely?’

  ‘Dislike, then. I shan’t be at all comfortable sitting at the same table as one of the women you’ve had in the past.’

  Amused at her way of putting it, Julius slanted her a humorous glance as he slid from the car and came round

  to her side.

  ‘One of them?’ His hand was oddly gentle on her arm as he helped her from the car. This gentleness hurt, somehow, in a way she could not fathom. His touch was gentle when he made love to her, but this was the first time he had shown gentleness on any other occasion.

  ‘You admitted you’d had lots of women,’ Gale reminded h
im, and he nodded, as if admitting it again, now that she had refreshed his memory. ‘It’s - different when a wife doesn’t know them,’ she went on, although she could not have given a reason for this trend of thought which she was allowing her husband to share. ‘She isn’t troubled—’

  ‘Troubled?’ He was close, and his hand touched her chin, tilting it so that he could read what was written in her eyes. She lowered her lashes, and again she found no reason for what she did. Somehow, though, it seemed imperative that he should not subject her to one of his searching, penetrating looks. ‘Are my past amours liable to trouble you, Gale?’ His fingers moved idly over her arm and as always she was profoundly aware of the pleasure of his touch. She glanced down as a movement at her feet caught her attention momentarily. A pretty pink and green lizard was darting about on the paving stones. ‘I’ve asked you a question,’ her husband reminded her gently, and she looked up then, aware that her eyes were clouded slightly.

  ‘Don’t misunderstand me,’ she began, wondering why she wasn’t flashing out the words at him, as would have been more appropriate to a situation such as this, when her husband’s past was being discussed. ‘It’s only Daphne - and that’s because I’ve met her.’ She paused, expecting some comment, but Julius was merely staring down at her and waiting patiently for her to continue. ‘How would you like it if I invited one of my exboyfriends to the house?’

  The silence continued, but all at once her husband’s expression changed. He looked like a fiend, she thought, shuddering automatically as the scene of a few days ago

  returned with frightening force. The gentle touch on her arm became a vice of pain and she cried out, wondering vaguely if she were to carry his bruises permanently, since she had not yet got rid of the others and now she was sure he had inflicted more.

  ‘I’m sorry, Gale,’ he said, surprisingly. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  She said, because some compulsive force directed her, almost against her will,

  ‘You haven’t answered my question, Julius.’

  Glinting eyes and a stern set to his mouth. A muscle out of control in his jaw, but arrogance and mastery in the voice he used, as, patting her cheek as he had done once before, he said,

  ‘I should probably strangle you, my dear.’

  She gaped, and remained fixed to the spot even though Julius made to move away.

  ‘And yet you expect me to have Daphne here?’

  ‘Men are privileged to keep up old friendships. Women are expected to be more circumspect.’ So bland the words. Gale could have believed he was teasing her if it hadn’t been for his expression, which clearly told her that he most certainly was not.

  ‘I shan’t be civil to her,’ Gale was saying again the following day just before their guest was expected. ‘In fact, I’ve a good mind to leave you both alone.’

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘If you prefer to lunch alone, then by all means do so,’ he said, staggering her.

  ‘Tell me,’ she inquired suddenly, ‘what exactly are you trying to do to me?’

  A cool inquiring glance came her way, and she heard an odd inflection in her husband’s voice when he spoke, saying he did not quite understand.

  ‘You’ll have to be more explicit,’ he added, his eyes fixed with keen interest on her face.

  ‘You’re not the same?’

  ‘In what way not the same?’

  She hesitated, her brow puckering as words became

  difficult to voice.

  ‘Well ... lately ...’ But she tailed off, soft colour rising owing to her thoughts, and because of the fact that Julius was under no illusions about these thoughts. ‘Yes, my dear,’ he prompted gently, ‘you were about to say something?’

  She swallowed hard.

  ‘You should know in what way you’ve changed.’ Why speak like this? she asked herself. She ought to be telling him outright that he was playing a game with her. Why couldn’t she say she didn’t care if he kept to his own room? - inform him airily that it could go on like this? How was it that the resolve she had made was not presented openly to him - the resolve that their relationship should continue as it was at present, seeing that it was Julius himself who had started it all?

  ‘Can it be,’ he murmured with infuriating calm not untinged with humour, ‘that you are missing my kisses ... and caresses, despite your attitude to the contrary?’

  ‘Certainly not! That wasn’t what I meant at all!’ Would he know she lied? It was more than likely, Gale owned, for Julius was more than ordinarily astute.

  ‘No?’ He stifled a yawn and glanced at his watch. ‘Daphne should be on her way by now; I’ll go and meet her as she’s bound to be walking. You can look over the table, and see that Kate has it just as it should be. Oh, and if you have decided to lunch alone, then make sure your place is cleared.’

  She glared at him as he went off, through the French window on to the patio and took the steps in a couple of light athletic leaps.

  ‘I hate you!’ she whispered fiercely to his disappearing broad straight back. ‘I wish with all my heart I’d never married you!’

  She did not lunch alone, as she had known from the first she wouldn’t; Why should she leave them together

  — to chat over old times? If they desired to do that then they could make some other arrangements. Gale checked thoughts like these, suddenly admitting that she would be plunged into the depths of misery if her husband and Daphne were to begin seeing each other again. It never dawned on her to question this new emotion which was drawing her into its net. Not for one moment would she have entertained the idea that she was jealous of the other girl.

  Daphne looked ravishing in a strapless cotton dress trimmed with embroidery at the waist and hem. She wore a jewelled bracelet and earrings to match, and something in the way she kept on flicking the bracelet before Julius’s eyes convinced Gale that the beautiful, expensive set had at one time been a gift from him ... for favours received? The idea hurt and a sudden frown lightly touched Gale’s wide brow. At that moment Julius caught her expression and he lifted an eyebrow in an interrogating gesture. She looked away, and became absorbed in her own thoughts. Daphne was chattering, talking about parties and various other functions which she had recently attended Julius put in a word now and then, and this appeared to provide all the encouragement the girl required for the eager continuance of her inane chatter.

  ‘You miss half the social activities, Julius,’ Daphne was saying. ‘Aren’t you interested, now that you’re married?’

  ‘I’ve never been interested to the same extent as you, Daphne.’

  The girl was probably bored half her time, concluded Gale spitefully - but then wondered how she herself would feel when her own time came, and Julius was lost to her for ever - as one day he must be lost, there being no solid foundation to their marriage. Based on nothing more substantial than physical desire, it must inevitably topple and become as unreal as a dream.

  Gale felt choked, suddenly, and her knife and fork was put on to her plate with a little clatter. Was anything wrong? her husband’s inquiring glance said, and she picked up her fork again and toyed with the meat on her plate. What was this unfamiliar pang which passed through her at the idea of losing Julius? Gale would have analysed it, or attempted to, but Daphne was speaking, describing the yacht her father had recently bought and which was moored just off the shore at the sandy bay of Griko. Julius was intensely interested, nodding now and then as if approving the features which were being enlarged upon by their guest.

  ‘Father’s giving a party aboard shortly,’ Daphne went on, using those long mascaraed lashes to the best effect she knew. ‘You’ll come, of course?’

  ‘If we’re invited; yes, most certainly we shall come.’

  Daphne replied to the effect that of course they would be invited, and as Julius then spoke in his turn Gale allowed their conversation to drift on, uninterrupted by any participation from her. Once or twice Julius would glance at her
as if inviting her to take part, but curiously enough she was content to listen - or vaguely listen, as her main trend of thought was still on the eventuality of the parting.

  She herself had initially owned that their ardour must wane and had surmised that she would have been just as ready for the separation as her husband. Permanent marriage had been anticipated once in her life

  - when she became engaged to Michael, but since the age of eighteen it had held no attraction for her. To be in love was disastrous, she had long since decided. One left oneself open to the wounds which men in their inherent ruthlessness could inflict over and over again.

  This risk was not one which Gale was willing to take a second time. With Julius, the one and only emotion had been the desire for him to make love to her.

  She admitted without restraint that what she felt on that morning at the lodge was a deep and aching disappointment. Subconsciously she had cursed the intervention of fate which had, as Julius had put it, ‘saved’ her. Reflectively she wondered what would have been the ultimate result of her surrender. Not marriage, that was for sure. Greeks never married the women they seduced. No, it would have been an affair, since Gale now fully owned that Julius was right when he suggested she would feel differently afterwards.

  An affair ... How long would it have been before Julius had tired of her? Until some other woman came along. ... This trend naturally brought her attention to the lovely girl seated at their luncheon table. Julius had obviously tired of her ... and yet they were friends still. A frown crossed Gale’s forehead. When this happened to her, she would never go near Julius again - and most certainly she could not bear to be in the company of the woman whose charms had been so appealing to Julius that she had supplanted her.

  Julius was suggesting they take coffee on the patio and they all rose from the table. His hand went to Daphne’s elbow. Gale’s teeth snapped together. What need was there for the girl to be assisted over the threshold of the dining-room on to the patio outside? But Daphne liked it, obviously, because she covered Julius’s hand with hers as if she would prevent him from removing it.