Page 37 of Sweet Vixen

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It seemed an age that he stood staring at her as she lay, satin body framed in auburn silk, a strip of delicate black lace her only covering. Then slowly, deliberately, Max stripped off his jacket and tie and threw them down, tugging open his shirt, scattering cufflinks with a soft patter across the floor, and then threw the discarded shirt down, too.

The smooth olive skin gleamed bronze in the lamplight, silvered with dampness and rippling as he moved to kneel beside her. He plunged his hands into the broad swathes of her hair and lifted them, letting the strands run through his fingers like water to splash over her body.

'How could I ever have thought you anything but what you are—lovely, desirable . . .' His voice roughened into harshness and his hands clenched her waist. 'My God, I want you—'

Breathless with impatience Sarah reached up to pull him down, flesh against flesh, stroking her hands over his chest and shoulders, feeling him shudder like a man with a fever at her eager touch. He shifted his weight over her and her fingers flexed, nails sinking into his back as she felt the powerful thrust of his body.

'Don't hurt me, sweet vixen, I'm at your mercy now,' he groaned as her nails raked downwards but she was beyond controlling herself, her body arched like a bow to his, her head rolling helplessly from side to side in an erotic transport of delight, all consciousness lost to the foaming excitement as the waves of sweet, piercing plea­sure built up to tidal force. There were a thousand exquisite pulse-beats in her body; resounding desire in every cell and nerve ending.

The frantic movements of her body beneath his took the final shreds of his own control. There were no concessions now to her doubts, but she welcomed him, mind and body longing for the release that he had been so skilfully denying them both, hands seeking the belt buckle that dug into the soft flesh of her belly.

The interruption, when it came, came with brutal suddenness. A splash, a curse, a muffled thud and an explosion of bright white light from the direction of the half-closed bedroom door.

Max was on his feet even before Sarah's sluggish brain registered what had happened. She lay for a moment, dazed, shaking, gulping great breaths of air, then jack-knifed up to grab the flimsy dress that lay an arm's length away. She stared blearily at the door with an awful premonition of disaster.

'Is that you, love? It's only me. I know I said I'd be away for a day or two—' Roy broke off, aghast, as he appeared in the doorway and saw the two frozen figures.

'Roy!' Sarah despaired and the unexplainable guilt she felt must have shown on her face for Max looked from the other man to her with dawning suspicion. Roy was wrapped only in a towel and dripped damply on to the floorboards. We're all undressed, thought Sarah with hysterical irrelevancy . . . with Max, of course, wearing the most of all!'

He stooped now, to shrug into his shirt, and to pick up his jacket and tie, which he thrust into the pocket.

'My mistake,' he said with bleak and deadly quietness and Sarah recoiled at the brief look of icy hostility he gave her as he passed by. Her throat was so jammed full of anger and explanation that she choked helplessly, unable to utter a word.

Max hesitated at the top of the stairwell, half-turned towards Roy and, unbelievingly, Sarah heard her friend repeat with contemptuous precision:

'Your mistake.'

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut on the nightmare, but the distant, distinct click of the front door confirmed the sick reality.

'Wait here,' she heard Roy say as he ducked back into the bathroom. Where did he think she would go? Dashing out half naked into the street after Max? The thought prompted her to scramble up and pull on her dress, doing up the zip with clumsy fingers. Her whole body was racked with agonising cramps, she felt as though part of her had been torn away, leaving a great, gaping wound.

'What was he doing here?' Roy came back into the room wearing denim jeans and carrying a white T-shirt screwed into a ball. She could hear bathwater gurgling down the pipes.

'What do you think he was doing?' She found her voice, small and tight. 'I would have thought it was pretty obvious. What were you doing? You aren't even supposed to be in Auckland!'

Roy shrugged, unembarrassed. 'My car broke down on the motorway, so I called the trip off until it's fixed. I didn't get back until late and I was filthy, I needed a bath.'

'At—' Sarah looked at her watch and gasped. 'At midnight!' She and Max had been here for nearly an hour. The pain and frustration intensified.

Roy ran his hand through his wet hair. 'Is it that late? I came over about ten—you weren't here so I let myself in ... I thought I'd just have a quick dip. I must have fallen asleep. Where were you?'

'Dinner. We went to dinner. You shouldn't have come in, Roy,' her voice rose sharply.

'All right, I'm sorry, there's no need to shout,' he said. 'You've never come back with anyone before, how did I know tonight was going to be different? I've used your bath before at night, and I didn't fall asleep on purpose, just to break up your cute little scene with the boss.'

Furiously angry, Sarah lashed out with her tongue. She had never until now regretted the closeness of their friendship and in the short, heated exchange that followed said hurtful things that were unfair and untrue, and was stung in turn by Roy's retaliations.

'And who the hell are you to make sarcastic remarks about cute scenes! You're the one who told me I was only half a woman,' Sarah finished desperately.

'I didn't mean you to jump into bed with the first man who asked you. I thought you had more self-respect.'

Sarah stiffened. 'You make it sound cheap and sordid—'

'Instead of romantic? Come off it, Sarah, you're not the type for one-night stands with strangers.'

'He is not a stranger and it wasn't a one-night stand,' said Sarah icily. Instinctively she knew that* the passion she and Max had shared was more than just a brief, animal urge easily satiated.

'If you were capable of going to bed with a man without any kind of emotional involvement you would have done so by now, taken the easy solace it offered,' Roy continued implacably. 'I may be an advocate of free love, but not free sex. There has to be a relationship first!'


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