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and her white flesh ached with rioting blood, her nipples hardened
unbearably, but she wouldn t give him the admission he wanted. He might
have won this battle, tonight, she knew her own stinging desire was too
urgent to be denied this time; she could not go on fighting him, she wanted
him too much, but only tonight, only now. There was always another day,
and the war wasn t over yet.
His body slid over on top of her; he had pushed up her long, puritanical
nightdress and she was naked from the neck down, naked and trembling
helplessly as she yielded to him. His lips were hard and hot on hers with all
the power of the conqueror; she resented it, his open triumph; and yet a
bittersweet sensuality swept through her and she felt herself arching
hungrily to meet the dominating thrust of his flesh. She stopped thinking
and was clamouring and open, moist to receive the male in that primitive
rite. Oliver entered her and she clasped his back with both hands as they
rode on the bed; Francesca stifling her moans of pleasure on his bare
shoulder, shuddering and biting him, past trying to hide from him the
piercing ecstasy climbing inside her.
She had never felt such sensual intensity; they had always been good
lovers, but their lovemaking had never been this passionate, and her wild
cries almost deafened her to Oliver s gasping moans of satisfaction. Her
heart was still beating like a sledgehammer when he collapsed on to her,
his breathing ragged as he slowly recovered.
Francesca lay with his head on her breast, staring at the ceiling, filled with
the usual sadness as her passion ebbed away, thinking of nothing.
Suddenly her blue eyes' opened wide as she was hit by a realisation.
Neither of them had used a contraceptive! It had all happened too quickly;
the last thing she had intended was to sleep with Oliver tonight, and when
she woke up to find him in her bed it had been too late.
Oliver sleepily kissed her bare shoulder, then raised his head to kiss her
mouth. I love you, Fran,' he whispered.
She gave a little heave and he rolled off her, then sat up, leaning on his
elbow to frown down at her.
Fran, I need to get some sleep. I ve hardly had any tonight. While you
were snoring in this bed I was trying to get comfortable on that draughty
floor, so can we talk about whatever is bugging you in the morning?
In the morning I am going to see a lawyer about this divorce.
There won t be a divorce, Oliver said sharply.
Do you really think that just because we had sex I m going to forget that I
saw you kissing Janice?
You saw Janice kissing me!
Francesca gave him a contemptuous look. Oh, she forced herself on you,
did she?
Yes, that s just what she did! I was just sitting behind my desk one
minute, with Janice standing next to me, and the next second she had flung
herself on my lap and was kissing me! Oliver grated, scowling. I didn t
know what the hell was happening until after you d walked in . . .then you
rushed out and I saw Janice s face and knew that she must have seen your
shadow on the glass in the office door.
What? Francesca stared fixedly at him, eyes widening.
How long did you stand outside the door? Oliver asked, and she thought
back.
I can t remember...half a minute, maybe. I paused to listen, in case you
were talking on the phone, I think.
And Janice saw your shadow, and thought this was her chance to get her
own back. . .
Get her own back? repeated Francesca, watching him with an almost
painful concentration.
On me, said Oliver, his mouth twisting.
What had you done to her?
Fired her!
Francesca was still trying to make up her mind whether or not to believe
him. Oliver was clever and plausible; that was why he was such a brilliant
salesman. What was he trying to sell her? How much truth was there in this
story?
Shrewd move, she said sarcastically. But too late. You should have
broken up with her weeks ago when I first came to London. I only had the
vaguest suspicions then; you could easily have convinced me I was crazy,
we could have got back together again then--now I know too much, Janice
made sure of that. I hate the thought of a divorce, for Jon s sake, if not for
our own, but I can t forgive you, Oliver, not after all these lies and
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