Bedded At His Convenience. Margaret Mayo

accusations. What the hell’s the matter with you? Have I ever given you reason to think that I’m having an affair?’

      ‘Yes—you had perfume on you,’ she riposted quickly.

      ‘And do I have a woman’s perfume on me now?’ he asked, pulling her close. ‘Go on, smell me! Do I?’

      Keisha had to confess that he didn’t. ‘I can’t think of any other reason why you keep such ridiculous hours if it’s not a woman,’ she retorted. ‘It’s not as though you need the money. Your company’s doing very well.’

      ‘And why is it doing well?’ he asked fiercely. ‘Because I put in all the hours God gives to make it that way. It’s my driving force—haven’t you realised that yet? And while we’re on the subject of infidelity, perhaps I should be the one questioning you?’

      Keisha head jerked and she frowned. What was he talking about?

      ‘Do you realise how often you mention Marc Collins these days?’

      ‘Do I?’ she asked. She wasn’t aware of it.

      ‘Yes, you do,’ he answered, his voice abrasive, his eyes accusing. ‘And you seem to be going to the gym far more frequently. Maybe I’m the one who has reason to be suspicious?’

      Keisha laughed. ‘Really, Hunter, he’s just a friend. I told you that. Don’t you believe that a woman can have a male friend?’ Hunter was never around long enough for her to have a decent conversation. She needed someone to talk to, and Marc was always willing to lend an ear.

      ‘Not a woman as sexy as you,’ he growled, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Hot, passionate kisses, punishing kisses. And soon Marc was forgotten. Everything was forgotten—except the heady excitement of exploring each other’s bodies.

      Somehow they seesawed their way through marriage for almost twelve months. There were times when everything went along smoothly and she was the happiest woman alive, and others when her uncertainties reared their ugly heads and they had unholy rows.

      Finally Keisha was forced to accept that enough was enough. She couldn’t punish herself any longer.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘I’M LEAVING YOU, Hunter.’

      A frown sliced into Hunter’s brow, so deep that it might have been cut by a razor, and he stared at her in total disbelief. ‘Keisha, tell me you’re joking.’

      ‘I’m deadly serious,’ she said quietly.

      ‘But why?’ He looked genuinely surprised.

      ‘Do I have to spell it out?’ she asked impatiently. ‘Isn’t it obvious? The rows we’ve been having, the hours you keep. I can’t put up with it any longer. I want a husband who cares.’

      It was partly her own fault, she realised that. She ought never to have married so young, and especially not to a man who thought more of his work than he did her. But that didn’t alter the fact that she was dreadfully unhappy.

      ‘Keisha, of course I care about you.’ He tried to take her into his arms but she pushed him away. ‘I love you deeply,’ he told her, his expression confirming his words. ‘You’re the best part of my life.’

      Her eyes flared a brilliant green. ‘Then it’s a pity you haven’t thought about that before. Because I don’t want to be married to you any longer. My bags are already packed. I’m leaving first thing in the morning.’

      ‘You can’t do this.’ Hunter’s voice rose, loud and angry.

      ‘Believe me, I can,’ she retorted.

      ‘I won’t let you.’ He stood tall and proud, looking down at her with eyes full of fury. ‘You married me for better or for worse.’

      ‘Then I was a fool,’ she snapped. ‘Because I didn’t realise how bad the worse would be. I can’t take any more.’

      His jaw tightened and his eyes became frighteningly black. But Keisha refused to back down. If she did so now she would be condemning herself to a lifetime of hell. She ought not to have told him that she was going; she ought to have just left.

      Had she been subconsciously wondering whether he would persuade her to stay? Whether he would promise to change his habits? If so she was a fool, because Hunter would never change—not in a hundred years.

      ‘I love you, Keisha.’

      He said it so calmly that it was scary.

      ‘And if you’d stop being angry for a moment you’d admit that you need me.’

      If he thought that much of her he wouldn’t neglect her, thought Keisha. She wanted to be out enjoying life with him. She’d just turned twenty for goodness’ sake; she couldn’t handle these long nights in alone. The days were bad enough, but the evenings as well…

      ‘Yes, I do need you,’ she answered sadly. ‘That’s the whole point. I need you but I haven’t got you.’

      They talked long into the night, and when they finally went to bed Hunter pulled her into his arms and made sure that she felt safe and cherished. Hunter in this mood she wouldn’t dream of leaving, but she knew that his promises never lasted.

      The next morning he made her swear that she’d still be there when he got back, but Keisha had no intention of keeping her promise. As soon as he’d gone she slung her bags into her car and left the house for good.

      Keisha’s retrospective thoughts had kept her awake for most of the night; nevertheless she was ready when Hunter came to pick her up the next morning. Not that she welcomed the prospect of spending time with him. If she’d known where to contact him she would have phoned and cancelled their date.

      If it could be called a date!

      He had coerced her into it. As far as she was concerned they had nothing to say to each other. The past was just that—past. There was no point bringing it up, discussing what might have been. It was over, done with. They were divorced. Why did he want to see her again?

      He arrived at ten on the dot, devastatingly handsome in grey trousers and a white silk shirt. Despite her misgivings, Keisha’s heart skipped a beat.

      She had dressed down deliberately, in a pair of white trousers and a cerise top, and she didn’t expect Hunter to pass any comment.

      But he did.

      ‘You look good,’ he said. ‘Not at all as though you’ve spent a sleepless night wondering how you can get out of seeing me.’

      Keisha frowned. How did he know that she’d lain awake? Unless, of course, he had done exactly the same. She looked carefully for shadows beneath his eyes but there none. He was the same as always. Gorgeously sexy!

      There ought to be a law forbidding men to look like he did. It should never be allowed. His face was strong, with a square jaw and beautifully moulded lips. She only had to look at them to want to feel his kisses.

      She gave her head a mental shake, trying to squash both her thoughts and her traitorous feelings. ‘If you had an ounce of decency you would have cancelled,’ she told him coolly. ‘In fact I don’t know why you asked me out in the first place. Talking won’t help. We’re two different people now, each with our own lives. We have nothing in common.’

      ‘I beg to differ.’ A wide smile stretched those kissable lips, revealing equally beautiful white teeth. Was there nothing about this man that was not perfect? Keisha asked herself.

      ‘We have a marriage in common.’

      Keisha looked sceptically into his eyes. ‘Was it ever a real marriage?’ And, with a complete change of subject, ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘I thought maybe a picnic somewhere.’

      Keisha looked at his smart linen trousers and expensive white shirt.