The Price of Deceit Page 13

  She noticed that the word love did not appear, but that she did not expect. He didn’t love her. When he sat down and thought about it, he probably didn’t even like her very much. The past was too strongly remembered for that. But he wanted her.

  ‘If you want me to stop, then say so. I will.’ His face was inches away from her own and she looked at its dark, angular lines with a mixture of desire and sadness.

  How true it was when they said that a taste of honey was worse than none at all. She felt suddenly robbed by him of her future, as the knowledge came that when he walked out of her life he would take with him everything she could possibly hope to give another human being.

  ‘I don’t know what I want,’ Katherine whispered honestly. ‘How can you make love to someone you dislike?’

  ‘I don’t dislike you,’ he said huskily. ‘I did once and for a very long time but, seeing you again, I’ve learnt to put you and everything we went through into perspective. It would have been convenient, admittedly, if the attraction had died along with everything else, but it hasn’t.’

  He said that so matter-of-factly that she closed her eyes to block out the pain.

  ‘You know what I’m offering you.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘All right, then. What I’m offering you is a relationship with no strings attached and no questions asked. No going over of old ground.’

  ‘A relationship with no past?’

  ‘If you want to put it like that.’

  And no future, she thought. But what have I got now? she asked herself. And what have I had for the past six years?

  She pulled his head towards her and they sank back against the pillows and this time his deepening kiss was more urgent, more hungry, and she could feel his body pulsating with the same passion which was going through her own.

  She moaned as his mouth moved to caress the slender curve of her neck, arching her back, her eyes closed.

  Was this retribution, she wondered, for what she had done once in innocence? Never knowing that her actions would have such disastrous consequences?

  He was unbuttoning the shirt, pulling it open to expose her naked breasts, and he raised himself slightly, so that he could look down at her.

  He stood up by the bed and she watched in fascination as he stripped off his shirt, then the remainder of his clothes. She watched the powerful width of his shoulders, the firm, muscular torso tapering down to his hard, aroused manhood.

  With an easy, graceful movement, she sat up towards the edge of the bed and her mouth instinctively found that throbbing, erect focus of his passion.

  She had been living in a darkened room, she thought, just simply getting through the days, but now the room was flooded with light and she had an overwhelming feeling of coming back to life.

  She was breathing quickly as her hands slid gently along his waist, trailing against his thighs, while she continued to rouse his desire with the steady, rhythmic movements of her mouth.

  When she lay back on the bed again, her body eagerly yielded to his, and she cried out as he brushed his lips against her breasts before his mouth fastened to her nipple, drawing on it with a deep hunger that made her shiver with response.

  With his fingers, he traced the swell of her other nipple, caressing it, playing with it, feeling the hard nub with the soft pad of his thumb.

  Since Dominic, she had been untouched, her body stored away in a kind of deep freeze, and now she felt it burst into flame.

  She let her legs drop open and took a deep, shuddering breath as he feathered a wet trail with his tongue along the flat planes of her stomach, down to where the source of her need ached for fulfilment.

  His tongue drove into the heart of her, and he only looked up once to say hoarsely, ‘Wait for me.’

  Then again he began his hungry torment of her body. She writhed against his exploring mouth, and when she felt that she could no longer stand the unbearable pain of wanting, he straightened up and thrust into her, his movements deep and long and filling her with an excitement that made her want to scream out.

  Her fingers curled into his back, tightening as his hand covered her breast and massaged it, and finally slackened when the crescendo of their lovemaking reached its blinding finish.

  They were both still breathing heavily, though, as they lay on the bed alongside one another.

  It should, she knew, have been an awkward moment, but it felt so entirely right to be lying on the bed next to him that she gave a small sigh of contentment and turned to face him.

  ‘Another childhood fallacy blown to the winds,’ he said with a crooked smile.

  ‘What fallacy is that?’

  ‘The one that schoolteachers never make love.’

  Katherine laughed softly. ‘Their babies are all delivered courtesy of the stork?’

  ‘Somehow that never entered the childhood equation.’

  He pulled her towards him and she covered his leg with her own, feeling the warmth of his body and needing it as she needed the air she breathed. It seemed almost as essential.

  So what happens next? she wanted to ask. Where do we go from here? But she knew the answers to those questions. He wanted involvement on the physical level, and if she started asking for more, if she even hinted at it, then he would retreat.

  And anyway, asking questions would do her no good either. She was being given the opportunity of having a part of him, of having a part of what she so deeply needed. To express anything but an adult, nonchalant acceptance of that would have been to expose herself more than she wanted.

  At the end of it all—and end it would—she would at least be able to shake hands with a smile on her face. Wasn’t that the way these sophisticated games of seduction were played? Rules to be followed, laws laid down, manoeuvres strictly within the lines.

  ‘I have to get in to school,’ she said. ‘If we leave now I can be there by lunchtime, once I’ve changed into something more suitable.’

  ‘Were there any men?’

  ‘The nativity play is tomorrow. Today is general pandemonium day. One day before the nativity play and only two days before the school breaks up.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  She looked at the cleanly chiselled profile and said, ‘No.’

  Dominic shifted so that he was looking at her, giving her the benefit of those penetrating green eyes.

  ‘How come?’

  Katherine felt her face suffuse with colour. ‘Well,’ she said, trying to make light of it, ‘I’m not the most alluring siren in the world, and besides, it’s not easy to find a playmate when all your friends are happily married.’

  ‘You looked damned sexy last night,’ he said huskily.

  ‘I don’t normally wear camisoles instead of shirts,’ she replied, thinking in a confused way that, although that was true, she certainly hadn’t felt uncomfortable. When she was with him, it somehow felt right to do all the things and wear all the things which she normally wouldn’t. That puzzled her. It seemed to ask a question, but when she tried to find the answer it slithered away, just out of reach.

  ‘Wasn’t David in favour of being a playmate?’ His voice was as light as hers, but there was a brooding intensity in his eyes that made her feel stupidly happy. She slapped down the happy feeling. There were limits to how many delusions she could live under, and delusion number one was that he could be in any way jealous of a past liaison.

  ‘Never seriously. I think we both knew the limits of what we had and we both knew that we would jeopardise a good friendship if we put the limits to the test.’

  ‘I suppose the fact that he’s got some sense, somewhere, might mean that this business with my sister isn’t quite as horrendous as I first thought.’

  He absentmindedly reached out to caress her breast and she said, feeling her body stir once more into life, ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that when we’re trying to have a conversation.’

  ‘Do you?’ he asked, but there was wicked delight on his face and she gave him a dr
y, lazy smile.

  ‘I have to admit that it’s a bit out of character for David to run off with a woman. I always thought that he would be more likely to fight the battle by drawing up a list of reasons why, but that’s a good sign, isn’t it? It means that he must be head over heels in love with Jack.’

  ‘You have a persuasive way with words.’ His hand moved lower, parting her legs, cupping the moistness in between her thighs, and she sighed unsteadily, which made him laugh, a low, sexy laugh.

  ‘Keep talking,’ he said, bending and licking her nipple with his tongue, and sending darts of exquisite pleasure racing through her.

  She tried to ignore the attention being paid to the various parts of her body.

  ‘I would,’ she said, eminently satisfied as his dark head moved against her breast and his mouth nuzzled against her, ‘if I could remember what I was saying.’

  And then it became impossible to ignore what he was doing to her. Every touch seemed to herald some new sensation and this time their bodies met in an unhurried unison, though just as sweet.

  It was nearly one before she insisted that it was time for her to leave. Really and truly.

  ‘I can’t be here when Claire returns,’ she told him, standing up and heading for the shower.

  She let herself into the cubicle and he did as well, closing the door behind them.

  ‘Saves on water,’ he told her, which made her burst out laughing.

  ‘Is that why you’ve done it?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ And he then proceeded to show her exactly why he had decided to share the shower with her, so that it was nearly two before she was finally dressed, back into last night’s outfit which was ridiculously unsuitable for daytime wear.

  ‘What are the ethics behind sleeping with the parent of one of your pupils?’ he asked in the car on the way to her house, and Katherine frowned.

  There were no ethical guidelines to this, or at least none that had ever been made clear to her, but then again, it was hardly a situation which arose on a weekly basis.

  ‘I would rather that Claire didn’t know anything about it,’ she said eventually, and he nodded.

  Why, she asked herself, turning to stare out of the window and not seeing much of what she was staring at, does that make me feel so awful?

  She knew why, of course. In fact, she hardly had to think too hard about it.

  What Dominic had offered her was a physical relationship that would exist in a vacuum, and Claire would be a complication, an unnecessary one as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t want her to start thinking that there was anything more to what they had, would he?

  Whatever he said, or failed to say, on the subject, she knew that deep down he must wonder whether she would start pursuing him for something which he had no intention of offering.

  ‘Will you be coming to the nativity play tomorrow morning?’ she asked him, as the car pulled up outside her house and he switched off the engine and turned to her.

  ‘I would not miss it for the world.’

  ‘Santa will be visiting them on Wednesday,’ she said brightly.

  ‘So I have been informed. I have had to dampen down thoughts of the reindeer putting in a similar appearance.’

  So easy, she thought, to love again, when the spectre of the past was locked away. But for how long? And did it matter? She was not strong enough to fight her love for him. She would take what he offered because martyred self-righteousness was not a warm companion on a cold winter’s night.

  ‘Spend Christmas Day with us, Katherine,’ he said, just as she was about to let herself out of the car, and she turned back to him with an expression of surprise.

  ‘But we agreed that Claire would know nothing about…us.’

  ‘I shall tell her that you had nothing planned, so I invited you across to be kind. A French couple will be there as well. Very distant relations. They’re in London for Christmas, and they’re going to come up and spend Christmas Day here. They have two children, so Claire will hardly notice that you’re there after a while.’

  ‘Please don’t feel sorry for me,’ she said in a low voice. ‘If you have plans, I would hate to intrude on them.’

  ‘I’m not asking you because I feel sorry for you.’ He looked away with a dark flush, and she wondered whether this meant that she had hit the nail on the head first time.

  She had always been proud, had always thought hard before accepting favours, but pride appeared to be hibernating, and the only thing she could think of was how wonderful it would be to spend Christmas Day with the man she adored, even if her adoration would have to be under wraps.

  And anyway, what good would it do her staying in her house, roasting a little chicken because a turkey was too large? Being at the receiving end of phone calls from friends, whose invitations she had already turned down, and who would want to make sure that she was all right? She loved them dearly for their concern, but it would hardly make for a festive atmosphere.

  ‘I should love to come,’ she said quietly, ‘but only if you let me prepare the meal.’

  ‘I’ve already booked a restaurant to take care of that,’ Dominic said, resting his head against the window-pane and looking at her. ’They’ll deliver it all in the morning and have assured me that even a fool would be able to follow their instructions on doing what little cooking’s needed.’

  ‘Cancel them.’

  ‘No.’ He smiled that easy smile that made her heart flutter. ‘But come early, anyway. At nine. Claire would appreciate an audience for the great ceremony of opening the presents.’

  She watched as his car swung up the lane and away from the house, and her heart was singing.

  She was being utterly insane, playing with fire as though she hadn’t already been burnt, and still she felt more light-headed than she had done for a very long time.

  I’ve probably made the biggest mistake in my life, she told her reflection in the mirror later that night, or at least the second biggest mistake, and I’m about to compound it by continuing to see Dominic Duvall. I am a complete idiot.

  She conducted the nativity play from the sidelines the following day with a suitable expression of efficiency, and didn’t once look into the audience to try and catch his eye, even though she knew exactly where he was sitting because she had glimpsed him entering earlier on.

  He left when all the other parents remained to have coffee and discuss the formidable talents of their offspring. Katherine smiled and nodded and didn’t take a great deal in.

  Only Santa the next day, with his guffaws and his bag of presents and the chaos he engendered in his wake, brought her back down to earth, and that was simply because she found that she just didn’t have the time to think of anything else apart from keeping her class in touch with planet earth.

  She had arranged to go to a party on Christmas Eve—a group of mostly teachers and their other halves. It was something of a tradition, the equivalent, she supposed, of the office party, but without any of the raunchy scenes behind the photocopier which she had always vaguely assumed permeated the average office party.

  It was only on Christmas morning, when she woke at six, that she delivered to herself the stern lecture which she knew was unavoidable.

  This is nothing, she told herself. Your head needs to be firmly screwed on if you’re going to survive with him. You will not look at him meaningfully, or make any approach, or even hint that you might want to touch him. You will certainly not let him see that you’re not the cool adult he assumes you are, ready to have a fling simply for the sake of physical attraction.

  She arrived at the house at precisely nine o’clock, to find Claire in a state of near-uncontrollable excitement, and Dominic standing in the background with an indulgent, amused smile on his lips.

  ‘Santa came!’ Claire told her repeatedly, as they went into the living-room. ‘I have hundreds of presents!’

  Katherine caught Dominic’s eye over his daughter’s head, and they smiled, a smile of such inti
mate conspiracy that she immediately looked away.

  Claire was jumping round the tree, poking the presents, rattling them, hardly able to contain herself, and Katherine grinned. It was the first Christmas she had spent in the company of a child. She had forgotten quite how exciting the whole thing was in the eyes of a five-year-old.

  They sat by the tree, with Claire between them, and watched as presents were opened, marvelled at, turned round and round, while Claire innocently exclaimed at how wonderful Santa was to have bought her everything on her list, and really she must have been a very good girl indeed to have deserved that.

  ‘Leading up to a request for chocolate,’ Dominic said drily to Katherine. ‘And of course she knows,’ he continued over Claire’s head, ‘that the ploy won’t work, because there will be no chocolate until after lunch.’

  ‘But I got a bunny box from Amy,’ Claire pointed out, ‘and since it’s mine…’ Her eyes were pleading and Katherine smiled. The logic of children could be irrefutable sometimes.

  ‘I don’t think Santa would approve of chocolates at this hour in the morning,’ Dominic said, for want of a more handy excuse, ‘and I would agree with him.’

  The chocolates were promptly forgotten, and when she was ensconced in the heap of toys surrounding her, he turned to Katherine and said in a low voice, ‘I got you something.’

  Katherine went red. ‘I didn’t get you anything,’ she stammered.

  ‘I think I’ll overcome the blow of that,’ he said, with a slow smile which almost made her forget several of her resolutions. He handed her a parcel, a book, and she opened it and saw that it was a slim paperback called How To Overcome Your Mother’s Influence, which made her burst out laughing.

  ‘Are you trying to tell me that I should be on a psychiatrist’s couch?’ she asked, grinning and looking down at the volume.

  ‘Oh, I think the couch bit could be reserved for me,’ he drawled, and she awkwardly tried to rise to the occasion with something witty, which fizzled out into fairly inaudible mumbles.