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had a cruel tightness below the mocking eyes. Then he
slowly lowered his mouth until it touched hers. She gasped,
trying to shrink away, and he pulled her nearer. His lips
whimpered, against hers, “You want this as much as I do—
do you think I don’t know that? You can’t hide from me for
ever, Kate. I want you ...”
Then his mouth was moving, hotly, urgently against
hers, and she felt her body melting in passionate response.
Through the rising passion and clamour of her pulses she
dimly tried to reason with herself. He had not said he loved
her. But her own desire was breaking loose from the bonds
she had placed on it, and she knew she would not be able to
resist much longer. She loved him too much.
The sudden interruption was like a douche of cold water
on inflamed nerves. From behind them came a peal of
silvery laughter, and Marc’s arms dropped from Kate, his
head jerking upwards, a blind look on his face.
Marie-Louise stood there, head to one side, an artificial
smile of false amusement painted on her red mouth.
“Cheri, I am so sorry to spoil your fun, but there is an
urgent call for you from New York. They said it could not
wait.”
He muttered furiously beneath his breath, looked at
Kate, hesitated, then walked quickly into the house.
Marie-Louise smiled at Kate, her eyes hard and
glittering. “Marc is an exciting lover, n’est-ce pas? I hope
you enjoyed your little interlude him.” She held up a hand,
as Kate stirred in restless anger, “Mais non, I am not
jealous, ma petite. There have been so many pretty little
girls! Marc likes his girls blonde, sometimes, for a change,
