she added silently. It was fortunate her darling little boy was out of the way at the moment. It wouldn’t do to let Gareth see him until such time as it might prove right. She would telephone her parents tomorrow, tell them she was delayed in Perth for a few more days. Andy wouldn’t mind. He loved being with his grandparents and uncles. Life at the Rose homestead was far more fascinating than the enforced boundaries of a house in suburban Perth.
With a heart-sickening jolt, Alida suddenly remembered the bathroom. Andy’s toys were lined along the bathtub ledge. She would have to hide them. Her mind swept through the rest of the house, trying to recollect if there were other things of Andy’s lying around in full view. She couldn’t think of any. Gareth would have no occasion to look into Andy’s bedroom. The only bedroom that concerned him was hers.
Her heart beat faster as she unlocked the front door and pushed it open. Her legs were trembling as she stepped forward into the hallway. She switched on the overhead light and moved to the console table where she set down the statuette and her handbag. The door clicked shut behind her. She took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm her shrieking nerves, then swung around to face Gareth.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked with brittle brightness.
“No.” It was little more than a breath from his lips. His eyes told her unmistakably what he wanted. The frank explicit message was both frightening and enthralling. His skin looked tightly stretched across the strong bone structure of his face, and she shivered in anticipation, recognising the taut waiting hunger that had once been unleashed with barbaric passion.
Gareth’s thin veneer of civilisation was disappearing before her eyes. There was strength and authority in the hand that took hers and pulled her against his body, uncompromising purpose in the arm that slid around her waist to hold her there. The adrenalin pumping through her bloodstream made Alida feel light-headed. She wanted his mouth to come down on hers, wanted the kisses that would shut out the rest of the world. Only a persistent beat of sanity cried a warning against it.
Remember afterwards, it said. Remember how he turned away from you when his passion had all been spent. He didn’t care about you, and he still doesn’t. If you let him use you as he did before, it will be the same, wife or no wife. He will consume all you give him, and you’ll be left with ashes again.
A shudder of pain ran through her as he bent his head towards her. “No! Don’t!” she choked out, and wrenched her head aside.
She felt Gareth’s body stiffen, heard a terse impatience in his voice. “What’s the matter?”
“I…I can’t do this, Gareth. Let me go. Please,” she begged, her hands kneading his chest in agitation while the rest of her body churned in upheaval at the denial she was forcing upon it.
She wanted him so desperately. He was so close. Everything within her yearned for the fulfilment he promised. But it was a false promise. Everything he had said, the way he had acted—he only wanted to take, not give.
A hand grasped her chin, turned her face to his. The blue eyes blazed with angry questions. “Why?” he demanded.
“Because…” Because I love you. I always have, fool that I am. But you don’t love me, Gareth Morgan, and you’re going to break my heart into little jagged pieces again, and leave me in a far worse state of desolation than you did before, and I can’t bear it. A huge lump swelled into her throat and tears welled in her eyes.
“Alida?” His brows lowered in puzzlement. The arm around her relaxed its hold. The hand on her chin moved to gently cup her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m not playing games. I meant to—”
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded urgently.
“You are. About so many things. I thought I could use you as you want to use me, but I’m not like that,
Dawne Prochilo, Dingbat Publishing, Kate Tate