Page 94 of The Quiet Wife
He wrapped her tight in his arms, and she pressed against him. She wasn’t so innocent that she didn’t realise what the hardness between them meant. She waited for him to continue, to press the issue, but he didn’t. He held her shoulders at arm’s length.
“Be in no doubt whatsoever that I want nothing more than you.”
She stared at him, unable to speak, something stirring deep within her at the thought.
“But it wouldn’t be right. Not for you. Not at this moment.”
She swallowed and blinked hard, knowing he was right.
His thumbs traced soft circles on her shoulders. “I thought it would take time to teach you to find the passion in yourself, but I was wrong. So wrong.”
“You were?” she whispered.
He nodded. “It’s right there. Flickering like fire under that genteel surface.”
“It is, isn’t it?” she smiled.
“What will you do? About Fred and the Caldicott woman?”
“I have no idea. When I found them, he was furious. He behaved as if it was all my fault.”
Jemie shook his head in disbelief. “You mean he didn’t have the decency to apologise?”
“Don’t be silly. Rosa had to restrain him when he turned on me.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “You won’t do anything reckless, will you? You won’t speak of this to him?”
Jemie didn’t reply.
A sharp dagger of fear lanced through her and doused any passion. She gripped his hands. “Jemie… Jemie, you mustn’t. If you care for me at all, you mustn’t. I have to live with him. Besides, you must think of your career. He could ruin you.”
He laid his forehead against hers and exhaled his frustrations. She savoured the contact and placed her hands on his waist, fingers caressing the naked skin there. “Can we carry on as before?” she whispered tentatively. “Can you still paint me, visit us, and be part of us or have I ruined it all?”
He held her in a tight embrace and buried his face in her neck. “You haven’t ruined anything. We will carry on as before.We managed it after I kissed you at the theatre, and we will manage again.”
She clung onto him for a long time.
“I should go,” she said eventually.
He nodded and released her. “We could sit by the fire for a little while.”
She hesitated.
“I’ll behave. I promise.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” she admitted, and his answering laugh was soft and warm.
“Come.” He held out a hand. She took it and he led her to the large armchair by the fire that was flickering. He sat down, and to her surprise, pulled her onto his lap. She couldn’t remember the last time she had sat on someone’s lap. She settled cautiously and rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment’s awkwardness, she put one hand on his naked chest. It was a very impressive chest. Warm with toned muscles and a generous dusting of dark hair that was soft under her fingers. She stroked him gently. He held her tightly, but with one hand he pulled what he could reach of her hair around so he could run his fingers through it.
His skin was so warm, and she could smell his familiar scent. She doubted she would ever get enough of being so close to him. She rubbed her cheek against him, and he kissed the top of her head.
“I’ve never sat on a gentleman’s lap before,” she admitted. His chuckle reverberated through her.
“My lap will forever be at your disposal.”
She stroked him some more and he groaned.
