A REASON FOR MARRIAGE

He turned away in an abrupt negation of her words. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re having my baby; I told you, I’m going to be involved every step of the way.”

The fear rose up even stronger. “Just as long as we’re on opposite sides of the city, you mean.”

He turned again, his mouth a thin line of displeasure. “What are you talking about, Sara? I don’t have time for this.”

“Well, neither do I.” Sara could feel tears sting her eyes. All she did want right then, despite the evidence of his lack of desire, was for Simon to stop this autocratic confusing behavior, walk over and pull her into his arms, to tip her face up to his and kiss her deeply and soundly until she didn’t have to think any more-and certainly until she didn’t have to think about becoming a rich man’s broodmare, relegated to the sidelines. However lonely things had got with Bruce, at least there had been the pretense of some kind of union, togetherness.

And yet she knew she didn’t want that, either. Her head was so fried that it hurt. And it was all this man’s fault. She glared at him.

Simon stepped towards her as if to say something, and his phone rang abruptly. With a muttered curse, he pulled it out of his pocket and turned away to speak rapidly..

Sara walked past him and into the kitchen. After a few minutes he came to the door. He looked and sounded weary, and Sara’s heart lurched before she clamped down on the rogue impulse to worry about him or tell him he looked tired. She wasn’t his wife, she reminded herself. She’d almost been a wife before; she would not do that again. And especially not with a man like Simon.

“Look, I have to go out now, they’ve moved dinner forward. We’ll talk tomorrow, OK?”

Sara sent him an airy, “Fine” and she resolutely turned away and started opening doors and drawers at random. When she stopped and looked around again, he had gone.

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As soon as she knew she was alone, the tears came, and through them Sara ranted at herself-what was wrong with her? She wanted Simon and yet she didn’t want him. She wanted to be independent, and then when he brought her out to show her places where she could live independently, she didn’t want that, either.

All she knew for sure, as she wiped away the tears and prepared some dinner, was that she wanted him with a bone-deep ache that ran through her body like a dull pain. It got worse every time he came near. She’d been having erotic dreams nearly every night about what had happened in the restaurant, waking with sheets damp and twisted around her body. She needed the physical. It was as if that would make all her confusion go away, if she could just bury herself in that release that only he could give her…

As Sara sat and ate, not tasting any of it, an intense desire rose up within her to seduce Simon, making it hard to think of anything else. Her blood felt heavy and her pulse throbbed. She told herself she had to know for sure if he was simply not attracted to her any more. If that was the case it would make things so much easier. She would go home and face the music.

She wouldn’t let him set her up like some ex- mistress. But she had to know. Feeling much better all of a sudden, Sara hopped down from the stool, washed up her plates and headed for her shower.

She hummed and hawed over what to wear, and then she found herself going into Simon’s room. She opened up his wardrobe and his scent reached out and enveloped her. Her pulse sped up to triple time and her breathing quickened; he didn’t even have to be here in person and he could turn her on. She shook her head and reached in to pull out one of his silk ties. She’d seen a scene in a movie once that involved a woman waiting for her man dressed in nothing but a tie, but Sara didn’t think she had the balls for that, especially with the slight thickening of her waistline. So she pulled out a shirt too.

Dressed in the shirt and tie, she left her hair down and put on the slightest amount of make-up, just enough to enhance her eyes. Feeling slightly silly but quashing it, she pulled on pants at the last minute, and then she got a bottle of wine with a glass and went into the sitting room to wait.

The minutes ticked by, and Sara alternately felt confident, bolshy, insecure and then gravitated back to feeling silly again. But she was determined to stick it out. She needed him too badly. She needed to know too badly. Even if he rejected her, it would be better than this awful ambiguity, this wall of distance. She had to put a stop to the way things seemed to be escalating out of her control, as if Simon knew something she didn’t, as if he was reading from a different script.

She made herself some hot chocolate. She opened the wine to let it breathe. She watched the news. She watched a film and couldn’t understand a word. The shirt started feeling constrictive, so she opened the top button and loosened the tie. And in the end she could feel tiredness washing over her. She fought it for a long time, but the cushions were so luxurious it was hard not to sink into them a little, to just close her eyes for a few minutes. Confident that she would hear him coming in, she let herself doze.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

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When Simon let himself quietly into the apartment he became alert immediately. The light was on in the sitting room, so he went in there. He stopped in his tracks and the breath locked in his chest at the sight in front of him.

Sara was asleep on the couch. Dressed in one of his shirts and ties. Long, bare legs flung out, hair in disarray around her head, one hand on her belly, the other by her head, palm up. All at once innocent and so wickedly sensuous that he felt dizzy with lust.