‘But weakness isn’t important,’ she protested.
‘I think it is.’
‘No, we’re all weak sometimes, in different ways. What matters is how we act when we’re well and feeling strong enough to be cruel. Surely that’s how you should really judge someone.’
‘Are you thinking of anyone in particular?’
‘You mean Ben? Yes, of course. But I soon felt that everyone he introduced me to was the same. All cheats and back-stabbers. Every one. Is there one man in a thousand who can actually be trusted?’
‘Can’t I?’ he asked curiously.
‘Well, I wouldn’t like to take you on in business. I don’t think you’d have much scruple about anything you did.’
‘But do you trust me as a man?’
After a moment she said, ‘I don’t really know you, do I?’
‘I thought we knew each other very well.’
‘Only in one way. When we hold each other and make love-then I seem to know you through and through.’
‘But isn’t that the best way?’
‘No,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘It’s an illusion. I don’t really know what’s going on inside your head.’
‘If it comes to that,’ Vincente said after a moment, ‘nobody knows anything about anyone else’s thoughts. Men and women, we all keep our secrets from each other. Perhaps we need to. You and I-’ he hesitated before going on in a slightly forced voice ‘-both have things we know about ourselves that the other wouldn’t understand, or forgive.’
‘Forgive?’ she echoed. ‘What a curious word to use.’
‘Life would be impossible without forgiveness,’ he said sombrely. ‘And the hardest person to forgive may be ourselves.’
Elise wanted to ask him what he meant by this, for there was some note in his voice that hinted at an untold story. But when she next looked at him he’d closed his eyes.
Later that night she came to join him in bed. From his breathing, he was asleep, lying on his back with the sheet pushed down, so that most of his naked body was revealed.
Wryly, she wished he would wear something. To sleep beside him like this was straining her self control. It was little more than a week that they had been together, yet it seemed like an eternity since she’d been free to clasp him without having to worry about hurting him.
It was annoying that he seemed unaffected by the swift mounting desire that afflicted her. He seemed to have no problem at all controlling himself, but perhaps that was only because he’d been feeling bad.
Gently, not to awaken him, she eased herself into the bed and put out the lamp, but there was still enough light in the room for her to discern his outline. She would be strong and not yield to temptation, yet even as she vowed this she was gently pushing back the sheet just a few inches…just a little more…
At last she saw what she longed to see. Even in his sleep he was aware of her, wanted her, responded to her. Scarcely breathing, she reached out to caress him gently with her fingertips, feeling the tremors that went through her. She must draw back now, before it went too far…
‘Don’t stop there.’
She gave a little gasp and turned to find him grinning.
‘How long have you been awake?’
‘It’s hard to be certain. I came up from the depths into a delightful dream of you doing what I’ve been wanting for days. I’m still not sure which is dream and which is reality.’
‘Let me help you,’ she whispered.
She began moving her hand again, but purposely now where she had been gentle before, and had her reward as he grew hot and hard in her hand. At any moment she was sure he would toss her on to her back and climb over her, but instead he lay there watching her with a smile of satisfaction on his face.
‘I guess I’m going to have to do all the work.’ She chuckled. ‘You really fancy being some Eastern potentate being ministered to by the harem, don’t you?’
‘You forget I have a bad back,’ he reminded her. ‘I mustn’t do anything that would tire me.’
‘Hah!’
‘But I admit I like the harem idea.’ He grinned. ‘So get on with your work and pleasure me, wench.’
‘To hear is to obey, master.’
She applied herself to the task with a will, watching his face where she could clearly see that he was fighting the temptation to reach for her. They were laughing as they contended with each other, each balancing seduction with control, struggling for supremacy in the battle that gave spice to their relationship.
He partly yielded, stretching out his hands in the direction of her breasts, but she teased him by staying just out of reach.
‘Not…fair,’ he complained in a gasp.
‘All right, I always fight fair,’ she said, leaning forward just enough for his fingertips to caress her nipples and almost shouting aloud as the electric tremors went through her, seeming to pulverise her, making her fight for control. To her delight she managed to hold her own, still the one in charge-just.
‘You’re cheating,’ he groaned.
‘How? Did you like that?’
‘How am I cheating?’
‘Taking advantage of an injured man. I could really hurt myself, moving too much.’
She muttered a soft curse at herself for being so carried away that she’d forgotten that. Leaning down, she lay against him and promptly found herself tossed on to her back and her legs parted by a determined knee. Then he was inside her, moving powerfully, sending through her a searing excitement that almost made her explode with pleasure.
She just managed to find the strength to gasp, ‘Cheat! Liar!’
‘Of course. I always win, no matter what I have to do, and you should have known that by now.’
She made a wild sound as he drove into her, then again. She tightened her arms around his neck lest he should have any insane idea of getting free, thrusting back against him with all her might.
‘Do you hate me?’ he muttered in her ear. He was laughing.
‘Yes-yes, I do-don’t stop.’
He increased his power, taking what he wanted without gentleness or consideration or good manners. It was shocking, but it carried her into a new universe, and she forgave him, she forgave him-oh, how she forgave him!
Much later, as they lay together, exhausted, she said, teasing, ‘So much for being ministered to.’
‘I’ll tell you this,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘if a potentate had you in his harem he’d dismiss all the others.’
‘So I should hope,’ she said, sighing blissfully.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN the bell rang the following evening the last person Elise expected to find standing there was Mary Connish-Fontain. Since the day she had confronted her at Ben’s funeral Elise had barely given her another thought. When there was no news of a DNA test she’d shrugged and forgotten it.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’ Mary demanded as Elise gazed at her, nonplussed.
She stood back for Mary to saunter past her, moving slowly to give herself time to take in her extravagant surroundings.
‘Nice,’ she said. ‘Very nice. And to think you tried to plead poverty. Oh, you’re here, are you?’
She’d noticed Vincente, stretched out on the sofa. He gave her a relaxed grin, but his eyes were alert.
‘What do you want?’ Elise said.
‘You know what I want. My fair share.’
‘Weren’t you going to have a test done? Where are the results?’
