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Charles looked at Roarke. “Yes, thanks. Everything’s very all right between me and Louise.”
“Now that we cleared that up,” Eve said, “let’s try it this way. Hypothetically, why would a woman, in a long-term, ostensively happy marriage seek the services of a licensed companion? And seek them on a regular basis.”
“Hypothetically.” Charles nodded. “It might be that the woman has needs, desires, even fantasies that aren’t or can’t be met within the marriage.”
“Why?”
Now he blew out a breath. “It might be that a woman isn’t comfortable seeking those needs and so on from her spouse, or the spouse isn’t comfortable or able to fulfill them. It might be by satisfying those needs with a professional, safely and confidentially, the marriage partners are more content. Not every marriage, however successful, gives both partners complete emotional or sexual satisfaction.”
“So what, they stay together to have conversation over dinner?”
“It might be as simple as that, but it’s usually considerably more complex. The fact is, sex, particularly a certain type of sex, is only one part of a relationship. I can’t give you details, Dallas. Not without Ava’s consent. If you get it, I’ll be happy to talk to you again.”
“Okay.” That would have to do. “Don’t contact her, Charles. If she tries to contact you, I’d appreciate it if you’d dodge until I’ve had a go with her on this.”
“All right. I can do that.”
“Good enough.” Eve rose. “I’ll be in touch. Hi to Louise and all that.”
“I’ll tell her.” He stood, leaned over to kiss Eve’s cheek.
I don’t get it. I don’t get it.” Eve frowned through the windshield as Roarke drove home. “I know he’s right, I know it’s true, but I don’t get it.”
“Precisely what would it be?”
“How you can have the sex outside marriage, and that’s just hunky with everybody involved? Why bother with the marriage thing?”
“Finances, companionship, habit, security, status.”
“Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.”
“You really should learn to form more definite opinions.”
“And the other thing, that she can’t get all her jollies from within the marriage? Okay, true—I hear this all the time, especially after he kills her or vice versa, but what crap.” Sheer annoyance had her slumping down in her seat. “If you didn’t have the sex buzz, you shouldn’t have hooked up.”
“Sometimes the buzz changes frequencies for one of the partners.”
“Okay. All right. Say I want to change frequencies. I decide I want you to suck your thumb and call me Mommy while I paddle your cute ass.” She shifted her gaze to his profile. “What do you say?”
“I would probably suggest a reasonable compromise, such as I’d like to suck on something else, preferably something attached to you, and I’ll call you whatever you like. If spanking must be involved, we’ll just have to take turns there.”
“See.” She poked his shoulder. “That works for me.”
“I sincerely hope not, but we can see.”
“No.” She snorted out a laugh. “I mean it works for me that you’d say let’s modify a little if I came up with something weird.”
“Remember that the next time I want to tie you up with your own underwear and slather your naked body with raspberry sauce.”
She slid her eyes toward him again. “Was there a first time?”
“Could be.”
The man, she mused, continued to surprise her. “Back to the point. I can’t see a marriage staying solid if one or both partners enters into an intimate relationship elsewhere. And profession aside, the LC–client relationship is intimate.” She considered, mulled, as Roarke drove through the gates. “Maybe, for instance, you’re married to this guy, everything’s frosty, then he turns out to be gay as an Easter basket. You got a problem. Maybe you stick it out because of those reasons you named—money, habit, whatever. And maybe you go to a professional to get off. But is that a marriage or just an arrangement?”
“Is there love? Your view on this is narrow. That’s how you’re built.”
It didn’t feel narrow to her. It felt right. “Marriage is a promise. That’s one of the ways you talked me into it. If you break one part of the promise, it’s going to crack other parts.”
