Charlotte Lamb The Long Surrender (pdf)

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log fire glowed with artificial brightness. Stow had placed the small tea table
beside the couch and the coffee things were laid out there. Sinking down on
the couch with a swish of silk, Selina poured two cups of coffee, added
cream and handed one to Ashley, who had taken up a brooding position in
front of the fire, his arm propped on the mantelshelf.
She sipped her coffee, one hand tucking back a stray lock of glittering hair.
Ashley's eyes followed the movement with an intensity she could feel in
every nerve.
'What do you intend me to do with myself, Ashley?' she asked. 'Stow
obviously needs no help. You said you don't want me to work. What am I
supposed to do all day?'
'The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,' he intoned mockingly.
'Though to itself it only live and die.'
Shakespeare, she noted vaguely, realising that Ashley was slightly drunk,
his voice thickened by wine.
'That's hardly much help,' she protested. 'I must have some occupation,
mustn't I?'
'You can sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,' he said mockingly.
'Be serious, Ashley!'
'Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?' His eyes were dangerous as they stared
at her. 'Too bad. I'm not playing your game, my devious darling. You'll have
to do better than that.'
She glanced down, her lashes fluttering against the pale gold of her skin.
'You're drunk,' she said softly.
'Not drunk enough,' he retorted. 'I'm still firmly in control of myself,
Selina I warn you.'
She finished her coffee, feeling suddenly chilled, and stood up, her
movement graceful in the close-clinging black silk.
Ashley's cup crashed down on the table and he was on his feet, too, his hand
catching at her arm. 'Where the hell do you think you're going?'
'To bed,' she said quietly. 'I'm tired.'
His face worked in confused anger. 'Sit down again,' he snapped, pushing
her backwards. 'You'll go to bed when I tell you to and not before.'
She sat down, her face flushed with anger. 'Stop treating me like a slave,
Ashley!' she exclaimed furiously.
He leaned over her, his eyes on her mouth. 'That's what you are, my darling.
Haven't you realised that yet? I bought you. I can do what I like with you.'
She was very still, looking up at his dark features through the fine curtain of
her lashes. 'What do you want to do with me?' she asked in pointed softness.
Dark red washed up his face. He drew back, his breath coming faster.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he moved back to the fireplace and leaned
there, staring at her insolently.
'Pour me some more coffee.' The tone was hard and insulting. After a pause
in which their eyes fought silently Selina bent her head in mute defeat and
poured him some coffee. He made a curt gesture. 'Bring it to me.'
Her lips tightened, but she obeyed, offering him the cup. He stared at her as
he accepted it. 'That's better,' he said in triumph. 'Now you see what sort of
wife I want... obedient, meek, submissive.' His voice taunted her lightly and
she stared back at him, feeling she would like to slap his smiling face.
Instead she moved back to her own seat on the couch without a word and
poured herself some more coffee. They sipped their drinks in silence. She
stared down into her cup, her retina imprinted with the image of Ashley's
good looks, seeing him everywhere.
Her mind seemed powerless to fight the nagging hunger below the surface
of her calm exterior. She wanted him. Sooner or later he would succeed in
getting her to admit it openly, to do just what he wanted her to do, to beg for
his kiss, his touch, his lovemaking.
When Ashley put down his cup and moved away from her she thought he
was going to bed, and her eyes followed him in hopeless longing. But
instead he moved to a long cabinet and bent to select a record from those
housed inside. She watched him, placing her own cup down. A gentle
whisper of music issued from the cabinet. He turned it up, then swung on his
heel to hold out his hand to her.
Folding her hands in her lap, she said defiantly, 'I don't want to dance.' Not
held in his arms, desperately conscious of his thighs moving against her and
the power of that lean chest. She knew she could not bear that sort of
proximity for long. He knew it, too. He knew it would provide the spark
necessary to fuel her smouldering need of him. They were each playing a
dangerous game, walking a tightrope over an abyss, and Ashley meant to
make sure she fell first.
'Come here,' he commanded, his face hardening.
'No,' she denied him, shaking her head.
'If you make me come over there for you, you'll be sorry,' he promised
silkily, and the strong hand beckoned her again.
Reluctantly she got up and joined him. His hand slid round her waist. The
long fingers touched the naked flesh of her back and she felt them tremble,
but when she looked up quickly Ashley's face was guarded against her, his
features tautly controlled.
She moved closer. Fire fights fire, she told herself, pressing herself nearer,
her hand flat against his shoulder. They began to circle the room. His cheek
lowered suddenly to brush against hers, and she was tempted to turn her
mouth just the little way needed to touch the hard brown cheek. He spun her
round deftly to retrace their steps, and in the process her silk-clad thigh slid
against his and she felt his sharp intake of breath. Deliberately she turned
her face and her mouth touched his cheek.
With a savage movement he halted and caught her up against him with both
arms tight around her slenderness, staring down into her uplifted face with
eyes that ate her.
'I hate you,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I hate you so much I'm going insane ...
kiss me ...' As he spoke the last words on a groan he brought his mouth down
on her hard, burning with a fever the soft parting of her lips could not
soothe, his hands touching her bare back with a desperation he had ceased to
disguise.
The long insistent kiss drugged her into total submission. Her eyes closed
tightly to shut out his demanding face and she gave up trying to think,
sinking herself into a flood of sensual feeling.
When he pulled his head back she was still clinging to him, her hands tight
against his neck, her face tip- lifted, the white lids closed over the green
eyes, the soft mouth parted and swollen with passion.
The smothering silence broke in upon her and she raised her lids to look at
him. He was watching her, his face tortured.
'You go to my head faster than wine,' he said in an attempt to speak lightly. 'I
can't keep my hands off you.'
'Perhaps we'd better dance again,' Selina suggested.
His hands dropped and he stood back, shaking his head. 'No,' he said
harshly.
She moved away slowly, the black silk rippling over the slender curves of
her body. His eyes followed the movement with open desire. She moved to
the door and halted, looking back at him with a sweet, unconscious
invitation.
'I'm going to bed, Ashley. Goodnight.'
He neither moved nor said anything, and after a pause she went out. In her
bedroom she shed her dress and got ready for bed. The room was furnished
in luxurious style. The thick cream carpet seemed to engulf her bare feet as
she walked to and fro, and her eyes admired the cream and gold of the bed,
the matching furniture which was fitted into one side of the room.
She had her green, lacy nightdress in her hand when the door opened.
Blushing hotly, she held it against her nakedness in a gesture of shy dismay.
Ashley was wearing pyjama trousers and nothing else. His face was a
frozen mask as he moved swiftly towards her, snatching the nightdress
away from her. 'You won't need that,' he said thickly.
Selina quivered, trying to read the look in the narrowed grey eyes.
For a full moment Ashley did not touch her, his eyes- moving slowly over
the warm golden skin of her shoulders, the emphasised whiteness of her
breasts with their hard pink nipples encircled by a faint dark aura, down the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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