Lovers In The Afternoon. Carole Mortimer

more and more desperate as he refused to let her escape him even for a second.

      ‘Please, Adam. Please!’ Her eyes were wild as she looked up at him.

      ‘You take me,’ he encouraged raggedly, his eyes black with desire.

      ‘What——?’ But she understood what he meant even as he pulled her above him, going to him eagerly, gasping as he lowered her on to him, filling her in every way possible before bringing her mouth down to his.

      It was so right that it should be this way, that he should allow her the freedom to be the one to choose their pleasure, a pleasure she had never known during her marriage.

      She was heady with delight, kissing the dampness of his salt-tasting shoulders and throat, quivering her own satisfaction as he groaned at the invasion of her tongue, feeling his movements quicken beneath her as he could hold back no longer, the hardness of him stroking her own desire until she felt the explosion begin in the depths of her being, beginning to shake as the warm aching pleasure ripped through her whole body in a climactic holocaust.

      ‘My beautiful Leonie,’ Adam gasped as he reached the summit of his own pleasure, exploding in a warmth of warm moistness. ‘I knew it could be this way between us!’

      And it hadn’t stopped there, their strength and desire returning within minutes, their second lovemaking even more intense than the first, the pleasure seeming never-ending.

      Leonie looked again at the face of the man who slept beside her, wondering what on earth she had done. Oh God, what had she done!

      He stirred slightly as she moved from beneath the curve of his arm, her movements stilling until she realised he was still sleeping. She blushed as she found her clothes scattered in a disorganised path from the bedroom to the lounge; she had never been so carried away by passion before. She hastily began to dress.

      ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

      She balked only slightly in the movement of pulling the camisole over her head. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ she said sourly; at least he had had the decency to put on a brown towelling robe before following her from the bedroom!

      ‘Isn’t it usual to spend the whole night in circumstances like these?’ he drawled, his dark hair still tousled, his jaw in need of a shave now. ‘I didn’t expect you to go sneaking off while I was asleep!’

      ‘I wasn’t sneaking off,’ she told him resentfully. ‘And there’s nothing usual about these circumstances!’ She tucked her blouse into the waistband of her skirt.

      ‘I want you to stay the night.’

      She shot him an angry glare, resentful that he could look so at ease, his hands thrust casually into the pockets of his robe, his stance relaxed. ‘Why?’

      His mouth twisted. ‘I’m sure I’ve just shown you two very good reasons why.’

      ‘Sex!’

      ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ He arched dark brows.

      ‘Nothing, you know I enjoyed it,’ she snapped, knowing it would be useless to deny it, brushing her hair with angry movements, whether at Adam or herself she wasn’t sure.

      ‘So stay,’ he encouraged softly.

      ‘I can’t, Adam,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘I don’t know what game you’ve been playing with me this evening——’

      ‘A game you were quite happy to go along with,’ he reminded gently.

      She shook her head in self-condemnation. ‘It seemed the easy way out at the time, so much easier for me to be Leonie Grant and you to be Adam Faulkner,’ she said shakily.

      He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Why not, that’s who we are.’

      ‘Because until our divorce becomes final I’m still officially Leonie Faulkner, your wife, and you’re my husband!’

      ‘And now I’m your lover,’ he gave a slow smile of satisfaction. ‘It was your idea, Leonie, you’re the one that said we shouldn’t have married each other but just have been lovers. And after tonight that’s exactly what we’re going to be!’

       CHAPTER TWO

      SHE vividly remembered shouting those words at Adam before she had walked out on him and their marriage eight months ago, remembered everything about her disaster of a marriage to this man. And she didn’t intend becoming involved with him again in any way.

      She was fully dressed now, straightening the collar of her jacket. ‘Tonight was a mistake——’

      ‘I have another name for it,’ Adam drawled.

      Her eyes flashed her resentment. ‘I’m well aware of the fact that you planned what happened——’

      ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t want it, too,’ he warned her softly.

      She blushed at the truth of that; from the moment she had seen him seated across the desk from her at the Thompson building her senses had become alive with wanting him. And the fact that he had acted as if it were the first time they had ever met had added to the excitement. But she had a feeling, knowing Adam as she did, a much less charming and relaxed Adam, that he had realised exactly what effect his behaviour was having on her, that it had been effected to get the response from her she had refused to give him during their marriage.

      ‘It was certainly better than anything we ever shared during our marriage,’ she snapped waspishly, waiting for the angry explosion she had come to expect from him when they discussed the failure of the physical side of their marriage.

      ‘I agree.’ Once again he disconcerted her; he had been doing it all evening, from the time she had discovered that her estranged husband was the new President of Thompson Electronics, during dinner when he had had such patience with her ‘accidents’, to the infinite care and gentleness he had shown her during their lovemaking. ‘You were right,’ he continued lightly. ‘We’re much better as lovers than as husband and wife.’

      ‘We are not lovers!’ She looked around desperately for her handbag so that she might get out of here. ‘I’ve left my handbag in the restaurant,’ she finally groaned in realisation. ‘And that damned man——’

      ‘Henri,’ Adam put in softly, his mouth quirked with amusement.

      ‘He already thinks I’m some sort of escapee from a lunatic asylum.’ She hadn’t missed his covert glances in her direction during the evening. ‘I just can’t go back there,’ she shuddered.

      ‘You don’t have to——’

      ‘And I don’t need any of your high-handed interference either,’ she cut in rudely. ‘Why should one more visit to that place bother me!’ she told herself defiantly.

      ‘Because it does,’ Adam soothed. ‘And there’s no need to torture yourself with the thought of having to do it; your handbag is in my car.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Very,’ he replied with satisfaction. ‘You were so eager to get up here that you left it next to your seat.’

      ‘I was not eager to get up here,’ she defended indignantly.

      ‘Maybe I should rephrase that,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I was so eager to get you up here that I didn’t give you chance to think of such mundane things as a handbag. Better?’ he quirked dark brows in amusement.

      It was that amusement that confused her; there had been little to laugh about during their marriage, Adam always so grim. But no one knew the deviousness of his mind as well as she did, and she wasn’t fooled by this charm for a moment.

      ‘What are you up to, Adam?’ she demanded impatiently.