A REASON FOR MARRIAGE

He took a sip of coffee, his eyes narrowed disconcertingly on her face. She was glad that he was still behind the island in the kitchen.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Sara gave a little laugh, which sounded fake to her ears. “I mean, you don’t have to do this…reassurance thing. I really don’t expect you to make me feel like you want me to be around forever or anything like that…” Her words trailed off, diminishing some of the vehemence with which she’d started the statement.

He walked round the island, a ridiculously small coffee cup in one hand, his other in the pocket of his jeans. He looked astoundingly gorgeous in a dark sweater. Unconsciously, Sara backed away.

“Believe me,” he said throatily, “the only thing I want to make you feel right now involves a soft surface and no clothing in our way.”

Sara gulped and took a quick swig of coffee. “Look,” she said weakly, “all I’m saying is that I know what this is and I’m fine with that. Really.”

“And what would that be?”

She shrugged one shoulder; they were still doing a bit of a backward dance around the room, she backing, and he advancing.

“It’s an affair. A fling.”

His eyebrows raised high. “Oh, so that’s what this is?”

Sara winced. No doubt his other lovers were far too experienced and suave to put a name on their experience with him. Suddenly she felt anger rise up. Why was he being so obtuse? Surely she was doing him a favor? She stopped backing away and put her coffee cup down carefully on the low table by the sofa.

She straightened and folded her arms. “Look, that’s exactly what it is. We both know that. I’d prefer if we could just be honest about it. What I’m saying to you is that I don’t need to be given any kind of platitudes. I’m not going to be clingy or want anything more. If you said to me right now that this is over, and thanks but goodbye, I’d have no problem walking out of here.”

Simon had gone very still, his eyes had darkened. No doubt he wasn’t used to lovers calling the shots, Sara thought cynically. And why did her flip words cause an ache somewhere in the region of her chest? She pushed it aside. The truth was this: Simon was not a man she could trust in a million years, no matter what he said. And she’d vowed to herself never to trust again. Never to be so silly, naive.

Simon put down his coffee cup, too, and walked towards her slowly. Sara stood her ground, but had the impression that she’d woken a sleeping dragon.

“I’ll admit that your honesty is both tantalizing and refreshing.”

“It is?” she asked.

Simon nodded. He was close enough to touch now. “Yes. We both know that when the time comes, we’ll walk away without a backward glance, happy with what we’ve had.”

“Exactly.” Sara nodded vehemently. “I don’t mean to sound…crass, it’s just that I’ve been engaged… Almost got married, and it was horrible when it ended. I’ve had that experience and I never, ever want to go near it again. Not even in the form of a tenuous commitment-and I know you’re not even offering that.” She stopped and cursed herself; she sounded like a bumbling idiot. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not looking for anything. I know you’re a playboy… I … mean… I Know that you don’t want more than this,”

His eyes flashed, and Sara’s insides clenched painfully but she ploughed on. “And I’m not expecting anything more. I can’t begin to tell you how comfortable I am with that.”

“A no-strings, no-consequences affair-we both walk away when we get bored.”

She nodded. She knew that time wouldn’t be far off. A man of Simon’s voracious tastes wouldn’t be content with someone like her for long. Not when there were other, more beautiful women waiting in the wings. He came very close and snaked a hand round the back of her head. His eyes were still dark, unreadable, and his jaw had a rigidity to it that made Sara instinctively want to smooth it, relax it.

“Well, then, seeing as we don’t know when this is going to end, and the sands of time are slipping away from us, we should make the most of our time together, shouldn’t we?’

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, Sara-” his voice had a hard edge “-is that we’re wasting too much time talking when we sould be spending most of our time in a very satisfactory way.”

He kissed her for a long, drugging moment, hauling her whole body against his. When he pulled back, and Sara fought to regain her breath, she said, “Okay then.”

He nodded, eyes flashing dangerously. “That’s the beauty of being the kind of man I am….. a playboy… Isn’t it?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Sara felt a knife skewer her inside, so hurt for a moment that she felt winded. And yet this was exactly what she’d asked for. Demanded. And when he bent his head to kiss her again, and started to open her shirt, she couldn’t stop him because if she did he’d know that all of her proclamations were built on a very flimsy foundation.

With the lingering heat of their recent impassioned lovemaking still in her blood and heavy limbs, Sara’s focus came back to the present. The earth below was an indistinct mass of brown mountains seen through breaks in the cloud. She sighed and let her head fall back, closing her eyes. She was playing with fire; she knew it. And all the trust issues in the world weren’t going to keep her safe from harm.

________

Simon sat in his office, files scattered over the desk in front of him, but he wasn’t thinking about them.

Sara…

He was thinking about her instead. No other lover had ever made him lose concentration this way. He had to concede that no other lover had taken him by the scruff of the neck and rattled him so completely. No other lover had evoked within him a compelling need to obey instinct over intellect. He hadn’t lived like that for a long time. She connected to something within him, primitive and long-suppressed, deep and visceral. He searched desperately to justify this feeling, to rationalize it, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate.