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It struck him that, even if there’d been no lighting, if there’d only been moonlight to illuminate the scene, he’d never mistake her for any other woman. The way she stood, the curve of her breasts, the tilt of her head, were unique. Even the way she jammed her hands on her hips, a gesture he was only now becoming familiar with, was pure Elisabeth.
Jack felt a familiar punch of need. His pulse drummed faster as the ache that had sat in his belly all evening dropped to his tightening groin.
Even after months of humiliation and anger he wanted her.
‘Why are you following me?’
He watched her breasts rise once, twice on swift breaths before answering. ‘It’s the way to my villa.’
‘It is?’
He nodded. ‘Mine’s the last one before the point.’ And hers was the one before his. They were the only two in this direction, isolated from the rest.
‘I see.’
She didn’t, but now wasn’t the time to explain.
Elisabeth spun on her foot and walked away.
Jack had had hours to get used to being in her company again. Yet his thoughts blurred as he followed. Those high-heeled sandals turned her walk into a sexy sashay, hips undulating and pert buttocks highlighted by the gleam of low lights that burnished her dress. As for the bare back revealed by her halterneck dress, it was smooth and golden and pure temptation...
Jack’s ribs tightened around his lungs and his breath grew shallow. His mouth flattened.
In ten months no other woman had made him feel this way. He’d barely noticed other women. Except the ones who’d made nuisances of themselves, trying to inveigle their way into his life with purred promises to take his mind off his failed marriage.
He recalled the stunning redhead who’d followed him into the hotel lift in Paris. As soon as they were alone she’d ripped open her coat to reveal her naked, voluptuous body. Then she’d told him in a throaty voice exactly what he could do with her, the descriptions vivid and direct.
Had he ever been the sort of man who’d be turned on by that? He’d always enjoyed sex. But standing in that mirrored lift, being offered sexual gratification in its crudest form, he’d felt nothing but revulsion.
For that he blamed Elisabeth.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want sex. He was a fit man in his prime. But the sweaty night-time dreams that plagued him featured only one woman, the one now tantalising him with the sway of her body and the memory of how very good they were together.
‘Have you been lonely, Elisabeth?’
The words surprised him. He always thought before speaking but he hadn’t planned this.
Because he didn’t want to know if she’d been with someone else?
Her steps faltered and she cast a frowning look over her shoulder. Even that tugged at something inside. His wife might be poised and unflappable in public but he’d discovered her tiny frown when puzzling something out endearing.
Endearing! She hadn’t been endearing when she’d abandoned him.
‘I’ve been very busy, Jack. Working.’
Not a direct answer, but would she admit it if she’d been with someone else?
Something dark and feral bared its teeth. Jealousy? Why not? She was his wife. But it wasn’t only possessiveness he experienced around Elisabeth.
He’d felt powerless, not knowing where she was, unable to track her down. That had been a first.
She’d been meticulous in her planning, not using the credit cards he’d given her or leaving an obvious trail out of Paris. Her friends had refused to reveal her whereabouts.
Her father hadn’t known where she was. Nor had he seemed concerned that his daughter had disappeared, apparently satisfied with a message that she was okay.
That had angered Jack. It also made him realise that while she loved her family, Elisabeth wasn’t close to them anymore, except perhaps her young half brother. Her father had been too wrapped up in some new project on the estate to miss his daughter.
‘What about you?’
