She half sobbed, but responded passionately, unable to
resist him. When he drew away again she was weak and
drowsy with pleasure. Eyes huge, she stared up at him as
he thrust a hand through his hair.
“Why the devil did you hold me off?” he demanded.
“Why did you refuse to talk to me the night before I left
Kianthos? I was almost out of my mind over you.”
“I can’t have an affair with you, Marc,” she whispered
through dry lips. “I love you—I admit it. I wish I didn’t.
But I’m just not the sort of girl who has casual affairs.”
He stared down at her. “Casual affairs? What the hell
do you mean? I want to marry you, you featherbrained
female!”
She began to tremble violently. “Marry me ... you ... but
... she said ...”
“She?” His voice was sharp. “Who said?”
“Marie-Louise,” she said miserably. “Oh, Marc, what
about her? She said ... everyone thought ...”
“I wouldn’t marry her if she was the last woman in the
world,” he said forcefully. “She is fun for a party, but
hardly the sort of girl one marries. She is all surface, like
a painted doll. In the rain the paint comes off. And with
Marie-Louise, the glitter comes off when one knows her
well enough. So what did she say to you, my silly
darling?”
“She implied that you only wanted to seduce me,” she
said softly, half dazed by her joy, “that you would throw
me away when you were tired of me. I couldn’t bear it. I
was so miserable.”
“And that’s why you wouldn’t let me in that night? You