A Passionate Affair. Elizabeth Power

marrying a rich American, Hannah had been given the chance to move to the United States and take up residence in her brother-in-law’s home when his housekeeper had walked out after a row with the new wife.

      It had been a way of escape from the downward spiral of depression and increasingly strong medication, and Hannah had taken it, only to find she could fully sympathise with the previous housekeeper when she had worked for her sister for a little while. But she had stuck with the only chance she’d had of making a new life, and in due course, when the husband had entertained Taylor for a few days—the two men having met through a business deal years earlier and consequently become friends—had got to know the young Englishman.

      When Taylor had offered her employment in England—with the blessing of her brother-in-law, who was getting increasingly irritated by the two sisters’ altercations—Hannah had accepted on the spot, and the rest, as Hannah had said, was history. And whilst Taylor strongly objected to any attempts of Hannah to mother him, Marsha had instantly recognised the need the other woman hid beneath her bustling exterior. The housekeeper was the sort of woman who should have had a houseful of children to keep her busy, and as the affection between the older and younger woman had grown Hannah had made no bones about the fact that she was longing for the day when the patter of tiny feet would occur.

      Once they were alone again, Taylor raised wry eyebrows at Marsha. ‘She’s as pleased as punch you’re here.’

      Marsha said nothing. She was half sitting up in bed, with the tray balanced on her lap and the duvet wrapped round her. She needed the loo, and she wanted to put something on before she ate, neither of which could be sorted until Taylor left.

      If nothing else, Taylor was intuitive. ‘You would prefer me to leave you in peace?’ he said easily, apparently not in the least put out.

      ‘Yes, please.’ She was not about to mince words.

      ‘Pity.’ The tawny eyes touched her lips for a second, causing her flesh to tingle. ‘You used to enjoy breakfast in bed with me.’

      Memories of those times, when the coffee had invariably got cold along with the food whilst they’d indulged in a different sort of nourishment, brought the heat to her cheeks, but she managed a brittle smile. ‘You’ve already eaten,’ she pointed out evenly, ‘and those times are in the past.’

      ‘True.’ He let his gaze sweep over her again. ‘But only for the moment.’

      ‘I don’t think so, Taylor.’

      ‘I know so.’ His smile was confident and infuriating. ‘We are man and wife, and I’m damned if I’ll let some sick bozo smash everything. I was hoping you’d come to see the truth for yourself, but that was asking too much. No matter.’ He moved closer to the bed, leaning over her with one hand on the headboard. ‘You’ve proved you are more than capable of surviving without me, Fuzz. Okay? Now you can choose to be with me because you want to be. And you do want me, like I want you.’

      He bent down, and she gave herself over to his kiss even as she berated herself for flirting with the danger of becoming vulnerable.

      It only lasted for a few moments before he straightened, his voice cool as he said, ‘Now, eat your breakfast, like a good wife, and put any thought of going into work out of your head. We are spending the day together, all right? I’ve put a very lucrative business deal on ice because of you, not to mention a couple of meetings and a discussion with my accountant.’

      ‘Am I supposed to be grateful?’ She eyed him hotly.

      He smiled again and reached for her left hand, raising it to his lips as he kissed her ringless third finger. ‘You might have discarded the visible evidence of our union, but you can’t discard what is in here—’ he touched the area over his heart ‘—so easily, my love. I know you. You’re in every nerve and sinew, every breath.’

      She snatched her hand back, her cheeks fiery. ‘Then you should know I’m not the type of woman to accept adultery as part of the marriage contract,’ she bit out furiously.

      ‘I would never have married you if you were.’

      Marsha stared at him. There was no mockery and no hesitation in his voice, and the questions which had risen to the surface after Nicki had expressed her doubts over the validity of what Susan had told her flooded in again.

      Her fingers tightened briefly on the tray before she told herself not to be so silly. Susan had no reason to lie, not one. And Tanya was beautiful. Beautiful and clever and— And married? But that didn’t mean anything. Taylor’s secretary had not been married at the time she had been told of their affair; that was the point she had to concentrate on here.

      ‘I’ll make you eat every word of accusation, Fuzz. I promise you that.’ There was darkness in his face now, and for a moment she felt a dart of fear. ‘But that’s nothing to what I’ll do to the person who fed you such garbage. The mind games stop today, do you hear me?’

      ‘Mind games?’ She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

      He held her gaze for ever, until finally his square jaw released its tight clench. ‘Eat your breakfast,’ he said silkily. ‘We’ll talk later.’

      And he turned and left the room.

      Once Marsha had visited the en suite bathroom, pulling on one of the guest robes hanging on the back of the door before she left the gleaming marble surrounds, she found to her absolute amazement she was ravenous.

      She demolished the plateful of eggs, bacon and sausages, the two slices of toast and blackcurrant preserve and the pot of coffee the breakfast tray held in indecent haste, before sinking back against the bedhead and staring straight ahead.

      A bath. She nodded at the thought, refusing to think of Taylor until she was clean and groomed again. The tiny shower room in her bedsit was all very well, but a long warm scented bath would be sheer heaven, and if ever she had needed a touch of heavenly comfort it was now.

      It was five minutes later, when she was engulfed in a sea of perfumed bubbles and trying to empty her mind of everything but the pleasure her body was experiencing, that she suddenly sat up with enough force to send water slopping over the side of the bath. Why hadn’t Taylor placed her in their bed last night? She had been out of it, she admitted, and hardly in a position to resist any overtures on his part, so why hadn’t he taken advantage of the situation? Not that he would have forced himself on her when she was unwell, she didn’t think that for a moment, but if she had been in their bed then this morning would have been a different kettle of fish entirely. To wake up beside him…

      She sank down again, a frown crinkling her brow as she pondered the thought. When she had left him she had left practically every article of clothing and every personal item she possessed, and from what he had intimated this morning her clothes, at least, were still all in place. He could have used that as an excuse to have her in his bed. Not that Taylor had ever needed an excuse for something he wanted to do, she reflected acidly.

      She raised one foot from beneath the foam, studying her scarlet-painted toenails thoughtfully. If they had woken up together the inevitable would have happened; he must know that. She had never been able to resist him, and he was fully aware of his sexual power.

      Another half an hour of rumination brought her no nearer to an answer other than the obvious one—he hadn’t wanted her to share their room again. As she rose from the now cool water she refused to let the idea hurt. They would no longer be married in a few weeks’ time, and once she left this house today she would make sure she never set foot in it again. She didn’t understand Taylor Kane, she had never understood him, and she wasn’t about to waste any more time trying.

      She flexed shoulders which should have been relaxed after the amount of time she had been lying in the water but were taut and tense, and then proceeded to dry herself with a big fluffy towel. It was as she was smoothing scented body lotion on every inch of skin that she stopped suddenly, gazing into the mirror in front of her. She needed to talk to Susan. Her heart began to thud as she accepted the notion which