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Supper was an uncomfortable, silent meal; even the children, it seemed, were aware of the tension existing between the two adults. Afterwards, when Sophy was supervising their baths, she was shocked when Alex asked her hesitantly, ‘Have you and Uncle Jon quarrelled?’
‘No, of course not,’ she assured the little girl swiftly. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She screwed her eyes up and then said slowly, ‘P’haps because at tea time it just felt like you had quarrelled...all stiff and sharp somehow.’
‘Well, I promise you we haven’t,’ Sophy reassured her kissing the curly head, feeling guilty because she was the one responsible for the atmosphere Alex had so accurately described.
She had to apologise to Jon, she acknowledged mentally as she tucked both children up in bed, and kissed them good night. She had been wrong to say the things she had to him and then to flounce off in a huff. After all why should she expect him to...to behave like a real husband?
She pressed her fingers to her temples which were throbbing with tension and pain. What had she been hoping for when she ran inside like that? That Jon might follow her...that he might... What?
Telling herself that there was nothing to be achieved by putting off the evil moment she went back downstairs. Jon was in the study. She knocked briefly and then went in, her eyes immediately going to the letter in front of him, recognising it as the one which had arrived from Nassau that morning.
‘This is from Harry Silver,’ he told her. ‘Confirming his visit. He’ll be bringing his wife with him. I thought we might have them here to dinner.’
‘Jon, I must talk to you.’ How stiff and unnatural her voice sounded. She could see Jon frowning and her heartbeat suddenly increased, thudding nervously into her chest wall. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said miserably, ‘and I owe you an apology... I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did...I was wrong.’
‘Yes, you were,’ he agreed evenly, standing up and coming round the front of the desk. There was a look in his eyes she found hard to recognise, but instinctively she took a step backwards, only to find that Jon was right in front of her. ‘Very wrong,’ he murmured softly reaching out and pulling her into his arms. ‘I’m not a computer, Sophy...and I am capable of feelings. These feelings.’
His mouth moved on hers with unerring instinct, caressing, arousing...seducing her own, she recognised in stunned bewilderment as it parted eagerly responding to the warm exploration of his lips like the thirsty earth soaking up rain. The bruises Chris had inflicted were forgotten, her whole body felt hollow and light, empty of everything but the sensation of Jon’s mouth on her own. He was kissing her in a way she had always dreamed of being kissed, she acknowledged hazily, with an expertise and knowledge she had never imagined he would own. Immediately she tensed but Jon wouldn’t let her go.
‘Oh, no,’ he whispered, transferring his mouth from her lips to her ear. ‘You don’t get out of this so easily, Sophy.’ One hand left her body to cup her face, firmly but without the pain Chris had inflicted on her.
He had removed his glasses and this close to, his eyes were an unbelievable blue...not sapphire and not navy but something in between, she thought hazily, unable to tear her own away from them. Jon was still speaking and it took several seconds for her to register the words.
‘After all,’ he said silkily, ‘wasn’t it this you wanted when you lashed out at me earlier?’
Instantly she felt sick and shaken. Did he honestly believe that of her; that she had deliberately tried to incite him to...to this?
She shook her head, the bitter denial bursting from her throat before she could silence it.
For a second he said nothing, then she felt his hold slacken slightly, his eyes shuttered as he released her and stepped slightly away. Immediately she shivered, feeling bereft...aching for the warmth of his arms around her once more.
‘Forgive me.’ His voice was harsher than she had ever known it. ‘I obviously mistook anger for frustration.’
Frustration? Slowly his meaning dawned and a scarlet wave of anger scalded its way over her skin. Did he actually think she had deliberately tried to incite him to...to make love to her...because she was suffering from frustration because he had interrupted her with Chris? That she wanted him to finish what Chris had started? The thought made her feel acutely sick and for the second time that day she was bitterly angry with him.
