Page 39 of The Secret Father


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‘I will be,’ he rasped. ‘I will be…’

It was the first thing he’d said to her. She ought to have objected to the complacent certainty in his words, but how could she when his words were the only thing that had made sense to her for a long time? He was right! It was the only way anything could be all right again.

Her weight was suspended on her hands, which rested at either side of his face. Sam captured the two narrow wrists and her weight fell full on him. His hands moved to the curve of her taut buttocks. Lindy’s head fell against his shoulder as the thrust of his hips against the softness of her belly ripped a cry from her throat—it was an eerie, lost sound. Her warm breath came in short, frantic bursts against his neck. His mouth worked its way up the side of her throat, leaving the scorching marks of his hot, luscious kisses on her receptive flesh.

It was crazy and insane—one portion of her mind recognised this—but this acknowledgement was swiftly eclipsed by the age-old cry of flesh calling to flesh. This was not the time to feel embarrassed at the savagery of their coupling—that would come later!

The interruption was cruelly abrupt. Light and noise suddenly invaded the room. Sam’s body prevented her from seeing the owners of the voices. Unfortunately, this didn’t mean they couldn’t see her. Her face flamed as she realised just what they were seeing. She pulled her shirt together, aware suddenly of the sensuous abandon of her posture.

‘I can’t imagine where he is.’ Lindy could match the lilting tones to silver-blonde hair. A startled gasp sounded loud in the room.

‘I rather think you’ve found me. If you don’t mind I’m…preoccupied just now.’ She felt the muscles of his upper arms bunch under her fingers, but his dry voice was totally lacking the stultifying embarrassment that everyone else appeared to be suffering from.

She felt the draught as the door was hastily closed. ‘Oh, God!’ Lindy’s body, which had seconds earlier been molten and pliant, became rigid. She lifted her hands to her face as the first waves of humiliation hit her. How could I? she thought. In one motion she rolled onto her side and up onto her knees.

‘What will they think?’ she wailed.

One dark brow shot towards his hairline. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’ His mood appeared to be cooling as fast as the sweat which had slickened his hot skin.

‘I don’t suppose you care!’ she flung back angrily.

She was sick to the stomach at the ease with which he had wrecked her puny defences. Her eager capitulation made a nonsense of the iron self-control she’d fallen back on. She felt utterly and totally degraded.

‘Should I?’ He sat up and shrugged in an infuriatingly languid manner. ‘You’re making a big thing of this.’

In other words it meant nothing—less than nothing—to him. She tried not to flinch. Why give him the opportunity to gloat? She was sure that was what he wanted—that was why his blue eyes were fixed so intently on her face, so cynical and calculating.

‘I don’t particularly like being the butt of crude and coarse jokes.’ She wrapped her hands together to make the trembling less noticeable. Her entire body was racked by intermittent tremors.

‘Diana won’t tell anyone what she saw,’ he said con-fidently. ‘And Lloyd isn’t the type to indulge in locker-room tales. Or do you think I’m likely to boast of my conquests when I’m out with the boys?’ His lip curled scornfully. ‘I don’t go in for that sort of male bonding.’

‘It wasn’t a c-conquest,’ she denied. Her teeth were chattering with cold. Or was it just reaction? Her skin, which had been scaldingly hot, was now clammy and cold.

It had been Lloyd again—it seemed every time the man saw her she was ripping off Sam’s clothes! If she hadn’t wanted to weep she might have laughed. Sam didn’t sound too bothered that his girlfriend had caught him in a very compromising situation with another woman. Why does that surprise me? she asked herself. Right at the outset his casual acceptance of marital in-fidelities on set should have warned her that he had warped morals. God, I was a fool to get involved in the first place, she thought, self-derision shining in her eyes. I deliberately didn’t see the truth—the painful, sordid truth!

‘By all means cling to the comfort of a technicality, Rosalind. I’ll even resist the temptation to say ‘‘Been there, done that’’.’ Lindy inwardly cringed at the expression of contempt on his face. ‘Nobody, least of all me, is going to stop you walking around with that saintly aura of purity you like to sport.’

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