A REASON FOR MARRIAGE

Simon stalled a moment before following her out. She was so totally different from any woman he’d known before that he couldn’t quite begin to rationalize how she made him feel. Physically, he burned for her. Most of the time, he literally had to see her, touch her, or he’d feel like he was going insane. He wasn’t used to any woman being preoccupied around him, and secondly, he wasn’t used to not being in complete control with his lovers. They turned him on, yes, that was what he chose them for, but never to the extent that he felt with this woman. This was something different.

He straightened his cuffs before walking out, uncomfortably aware of his near-constant state of arousal. She was just different because she wasn’t one of the polished socialites that littered his social scene, who threw themselves at him, that was all. It was still just an affair, and he’d no doubt that he’d soon look at her and wonder what he’d been hot and bothered about.

A little later, in the exclusive hotel which was hosting his bank’s lavish charity-ball, Simon felt extremely hot and bothered. Sara was generating a veritable tsunami of attention in her sexy dress. Having been the one who bought her the dress, now he wanted to march her right out of there and make her change out of it.

Clamping her to his side was a need born out of a violent emotion that he’d never felt before as acquaintance after acquaintance came up under the pretext of talking business, whereupon they did nothing but stare at Sara. She seemed oblivious, but Simon was too inured to women and their wily ways. And he was all too aware of how beguiling her natural beauty was to these men, who were jaded and cynical. As jaded and cynical as he was. Was he no better than these men? He’d just seen her first. All sorts of conflicting, unsavory thoughts were being unleashed within him. Not least of which was the sensation that perhaps he’d been fooled, fooled by her act, her apparent vulnerability. How could she really be so different?

He dragged her attention back from where she was looking in awe at the room around them, and muttered something about getting drinks. He saw a flash of uncertainty in her eyes and ignored it, and the feeling it generated through him. He needed space.

Sara looked to where Simon was cutting a swathe through the glittering crowd. She couldn’t help but notice the intense interest he generated among every cluster of women in the room, who also followed his progress with avid attention. Some of them turned then to look at her, and she felt extremely self-conscious. Trying to shrug off the immediate insecurity that their looks generated, she walked to where ornate doors led out to a small, idyllic garden. Even though it was cool, one or two people mingled outside. The hotel was pure opulence, one of the oldest and grandest in New York.

She couldn’t help but think of similar situations with Bruce. He’d always dumped her as soon as they got in the door and made straight for the bar. Invariably she’d be left on her own all evening and would return home alone, only to wake up in the morning and find that he hadn’t even returned. She’d stopped worrying about his whereabouts when it had become clear he’d never seemed to miss her. How she ever believed that he’d loved her was beyond her. Truly, she’d been very naive.

She rubbed her arms distractedly, as she had that sensation of someone walking over.

“Hello,”

Sara jumped and turned to see a tall man standing beside her, looking her up and down. She looked nervously over his shoulder back into the room, but couldn’t see Simon.

She smiled tightly. “Hi, I’m sorry. I’m just waiting for someone, actually.”

“Then it’s lucky that I met you here alone then. You are a very beautiful woman.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Sara blushed. “That’s very…nice of you to say.”

The man was attractive in a heavy-set kind of way, but there was something faintly menacing about him. He’d moved subtly and now he effectively blocked her from the room. In order to move, Sara would have to push past him or go into the garden. She didn’t want to retreat to a dark area where he might follow her.

“Please.” He held out a hand. “Can I know your name?”

Sara sent up a silent prayer for Simon to find her. Where was he? She couldn’t ignore the man, as that would be unaccountably rude. So she shook his hand very perfunctorily and whipped hers back before he could clasp it. “Sara McCall; I’m very pleased to meet you. Now, please, my friend will be looking for me.”

Except patently he wasn’t. A very familiar feeling of pain clutched her deep down inside. She went to move past the man, but he stopped her with an arm. Sara flinched back from the contact.

His voice now held a distinctly threatening tone. “But I haven’t told you my name yet, and your voice… It’s very nice too,”

Sara was beginning to feel desperate. Even though Bruce had never physically harmed her, the latent threat had always been there, and now the memory was making her feel panicky.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t really want to know your name, OK? Now, I’m sorry, but would you please get out of my way?”

After a long, tense moment, he stepped back with hands held high and spread. “Go then, if you want, it’s your loss.”

Sara seized the opportunity and fled. Her heart was hammering, and she had an awful, sick feeling in her chest, an overwhelming sensation of foreboding. She pushed through the crowd and then she saw Simon, and the whole room tilted crazily, the chatter dulling to a faint roaring in her ears.

He was at the bar, talking to a woman. He didn’t look as if he was in a hurry to go anywhere, much less to look for her. The woman was stunningly beautiful-blonde, tall, slim, in a sparkling gown with a thigh-high slit that was being provocatively displayed. She had a hand on Simon’s waist and was leaning in, her whole body arching seductively into his. His head was bent towards hers as if she were telling him something intimate.