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Abandoning the struggle, she relaxed, and as if her body had only been waiting for her mind to relinquish control, a flood of sweet sensation washed over her.
Paul's hands moved sensually against her and she sobbed out his name, her own fingers searching against the hard muscled body above her, her desire beating up like a great flame.
Pleasure ached deep inside her, her limbs felt heavily languorous. Paul's lips parted against her throat, slid down slowly to her breasts. 'Darling,' he murmured. 'I won't hurt you.'
Leonie barely heard him. Through a mist of pleasure and desire she heard herself saying his name over and over again, her voice weak with total surrender.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIGHT was dancing under her eyelids. She reluctantly opened them and found the room flooded with sunlight and Paul moving between the bed and the window, his body fully clothed in a dark suit.
For a few seconds she only stared at him, still drugged with the deepest, sweetest sleep of her life. Then memory washed back into her mind
and she shrank back against the pillows, her cheeks growing scarlet.
Paul walked to the door. 'I brought you your breakfast,' he said coolly. 'Tea and toast. I hope it's what you wanted. I'm afraid I have to go out—I have a business meeting at ten-thirty. I'll be back by one o'clock and we'll go out to lunch.'
Can't I cook something here?' she asked shyly.
'I would rather go Out,' he said curtly, as he closed the door and vanished.
Leonie lay listening to the sound of his footsteps, then the bang of the front door. Last night might have been a dream. They were back in reality, in the cold steel trap of their marriage, two strangers living together in a pretence which grew more difficult to sustain with every passing day.
She closed her eyes, groaning. How could she have been so lost to self-respect that she had let him make love to her, that she had met him half way, in the end, and responded passionately to his love- making? She despised herself. She had been weak.
She pulled herself together, sat up and leant over to get her tea. As she did so her eye caught sight of the glint of gold on the pillow, a fine short hair which she recognised as one of Paul's. The sight of it sent a hot wave sweeping over her body as she remembered other moments during the night, the naked brush of his body against her as she slid into sleep, the tingle of his mouth on her throat, her own voice sobbing in surrender.
When she had nibbled at her toast and drunk her tea, she got out of bed. The mirror gave her back her own reflection, her slim nakedness glowing white in the sun-filled room. She saw faint bruises on her flesh, the marks of love, and hurriedly turned away to find some clothes.
Later, showered and dressed, she went out to find a grey-haired woman vacuum-cleaning the carpets while a radio blared out pop music in the background. The woman turned to smile at her.
'Bonjour madame. Je suis Madame Delarge.'
'Good morning,' Leonie said uncertainly. This must be the woman who cleaned the flat. She had not come yesterday, but Paul had mentioned her.
They exchanged a few polite words, then the telephone rang, and Leonie went to answer it. It was Doris Nieman, her voice friendly and eager.
'Will you come shopping this morning?'
'I would like to,' Leonie said, pleased to have someone to talk to this morning. Anything which would take her mind off the previous night was welcome.
She scribbled a hasty note for Paul, in case he should return early, and went down to meet Doris when her car drew up.
'Is there something you particularly want to buy?' she asked as the car moved back into the traffic.
Doris laughed. 'My dear, I want to buy thousands of things—I always do. But today I 'm just browsing, and that's the way I like it best. I'm an impulse buyer. I browse and snatch at interesting little titbits. It drives Carl mad.'
'It sounds fun,' Leonie smiled. She had never been able to afford such haphazard shopping, when she bought something it was because she needed it, she planned ahead and organised her shopping, whether of food or clothes. Living on a limited income made one cost-conscious.
They parked and wandered along the wide, elegant shopping centres, sauntering beside plate glass windows and gazing at the objects displayed with the contented appraisal of people who are just amusing themselves. Doris halted to make a detailed inspection of a pale calf handbag.
'Nice, don't you think?'
There was no price ticket, but Leonie suspected that she would find the price shocking. But she said, 'Very nice, indeed.'
Doris chewed on her lower lip. 'I think ... yes, I really think I might ... but first I must find shoes to match ... we can come back when we've found them...'
They found the shoes half a mile away. By then Leonie's legs and feet were throbbing with exhaustion. Doris, however, seemed untiring. When she had tried the shoes, bought them and left the shop, she looked at Leonie with a twinkle in her eyes.
