The Seduction Game by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page B

distance she heard herself say, ‘Yes.’
    In retrospect—and she’d gone over the scene in her mind, time after agonising time—she couldn’t have made it more easy for him if she’d tried.
    Within a week they were dating. Within the month they were lovers, and she was lost, carried away on a tide of newly discovered passion, gladly surrendering her virginity to him. Consumed by unfamiliar but intoxicating greed.
    Jack was experienced and sophisticated, but he seemed delighted by her comparative naivety, and almost amused by her physical innocence.
    ‘You’re my own private anachronism, sweet,’ he teased her as he coaxed her out of her inhibitions.
    She was sharing a flat with two other girls, but when Jack asked her she moved in with him. And for the first time became aware that her parents had reservations.
    ‘But it’s so unfair,’ she argued heatedly. ‘Becky and Harry lived together before they were married. What’s so different?’
    ‘Darling, you’ve only known him a comparatively short time.’ Her mother looked worried. ‘Are you certain you want to make this kind of commitment quite so soon?’
    ‘I love Jack,’ she said. She looked at them both, willing them to understand. To give her their blessing. ‘When it’s right and good, you just know.’
    ‘What happened to that other boy you were seeing—Mark Roberts?’
    ‘Mark?’ Tara echoed in astonishment ‘That was all over months ago. And you weren’t keen on him either,’ she added accusingly, rounding on her father. ‘You said he had no ambition, remember? Well, you can’t say that about Jack.’
    ‘I shouldn’t dream of it.’ Jim Lyndon’s tone was mildly ironic. And the look he sent his wife was halfwarning, half-resigned.
    For the first few months, Tara was in paradise. Marchant Southern only occupied a fraction of her attention. The rest of her creative mind was devoted to making Jack happy. To ensuring the flat was always spotless and tidy, cooking the pasta dishes he loved, keeping his clothes in pristine condition. She was on a learning curve, and her goal was becoming the ideal wife—whenever Jack asked her.
    Not that he seemed in any hurry to do so, and this was the only cloud on her horizon. She wanted to wear his ring—to have his baby. It was the next logical step towards the perfect happiness she saw as her right.
    I’m so lucky, she would tell herself each day, listening to girlfriends and colleagues telling unhappy stories about tiffs, rifts, and the unending search for Mr Right. Jack and I were made for each other.
    Once, she tried to tell Anna how she felt, but her friend’s response was muted, and the subject rapidly changed.
    Poor Anna, Tara thought. Judging by her remarks about being too trusting, she’s going through a rocky patch with Gavin. It was tactless of me to advertise my own happiness like that.
    It was at a housewarming party thrown by some newly married friends when she first realised that Jack might have other ideas about the future of their relationship.
    The house was only half furnished. They sat on packing cases, drank supermarket plonk out of paper cups, ate vegetable curry from plates that didn’t match, and laughed a lot.
    Later, lying in bed, watching him undress with the usual slow curl of anticipation deep within her, she said, ‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’
    Jack shrugged. ‘I thought it was a shambles. I can’t believe they’d actually invite people round with the place in that state.’
    Tara propped herself on an elbow. ‘You don’t mean that.’
    ‘I’m perfectly serious.’ He looked at her in the mirror, his eyes steady and rather hard. ‘The house may be all right one day—if Fiona doesn’t start dropping babies and they can afford to do it up properly. But they’ve got married on a shoestring, and that’s ridiculous.’
    ‘But they love each other,’ she protested, feeling a sudden chill.
    ‘Naturally, my sweet dope, or they wouldn’t be married at all.