Affairs

By Denise Denby

Life was just about as perfect for Naome Hanson as it could be. She was a beautiful and talented picture restorer, with a vast knowledge of antiques. She had her own art gallery at home, a magnificent rambling house, gardens, paddocks for race horses, all set in acres of land on her husband’s large country estate.Suddenly her perfect life crumbled with the revelation that her husband was having an affair. Naome decides to leave her husband to start a new life and takes up a position at Uxbridge antiques owned by Stavos Lingsham and managed by Peter Bodenham. Both Peter and Naome seek to build a new life after their varied experiences.Through friends, Naome meets Frank Fitzhoward, a dashing, handsome and determined man who wants her for himself and he always plays to win.Stavos also an antique dealer becomes central to Naome’s life. During a tumultuous affair with him she hopes for marriage, but his wife and two children stand in the way.This is a gripping story of believable people whose lives become intertwined. There is raunchy sex, tragedy, great humour, warmth and most of all the huge variables in human nature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mereo Books
• Release date: Mar 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463175613

Book preview

ENGLAND February 1987

Naome leaned on her elbow and gazed down at her husband’s face. In her eyes Michael Hanson was ocular dynamite. She drew him into detail inch by inch, as if seeing him for the first time. Her eyes roved over his partially naked body as he reclined in bed, his head back on the pillow, arms behind his head of ruffled fair hair. His periwinkle eyes closed under shapely arched brows and a boyish grin played on his full innocent lips. She registered the colour and texture of is skin, all brown shading to pink between his thighs. Small beads of perspiration glistened on his lean body.

What are you thinking about? she whispered, afraid to break the spell of the afterglow of lovemaking.

He opened his eyes and smiled languidly, the look of love and lust still there. "I was thinking how lovely you are, and how much your lovemaking has improved.

Oh! Was I such a novice before? she answered, challenging him.

On the contrary, my little filly, you have more stamina and you’re more responsive. He chuckled and hugged her to him.

I might have known you’d liken me to one of your racehorses. The next thing you’re going to tell me is that I’ve got a quick turn of foot. She laughed and broke free to get out of bed. Speaking of turn of foot," I’m supposed to be at Mother’s in less than an hour.

It’s snowing outside and the roads will be bad. Come back to bed. His voice was persuasive as he turned her to face him.

You know I want to go this morning. I haven’t seen her for ages. Besides, you’re delaying me. I hope she hasn’t already left…

Naome, do you know how much I love and need you? He cut her short. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me. You wouldn’t leave me, would you? He clutched her hands and stayed silent, looking at her.

Naome was beautiful, but she had always been unaware of how lovely she was. Her eyes the colour of aquamarines, blue flecked with green, and her finely sculptured nose and cheekbones came from her father. Her mouth was full and sensuous and she often did not wear lipstick. Her hair, long, corn fairness streaked with gold. She returned Michael’s gaze, confused by his question. Why should I leave you? A sudden twinge of doubt gripped her heart. Is your conscience pricking you? Have you done something to make me not love you?

His teasing eyes mocked her; still the boyish grin played on his lips. I’ve always been a little bit naughty. I like to look at other women, but you know I would never hurt you. Please come back to bed, just for a few minutes, and I’ll prove how much I love you. He started to laugh when she broke free and ran to the bathroom, calling back to him. You’d better stay faithful or I’ll have our vet castrate you!

Twenty minutes later she was dressed and gave Michael a quick goodbye kiss, then opened the door to leave.

Drive carefully, darling. I’ll have a surprise for you later, he called as she closed the door.

She looked through the window at the bottom of the stairs; snow covered the terrace at the front of the house. Seldom using the main entrance, she had an impulse to make tracks in the unmarked blanket of perfection. As she stepped outside flurries spun around her head. She inhaled a deep breath, letting out plumes of white mist and started to run. There was something wildly exhilarating in the coldness of the air and the crunching sound her boots made as they plunged into the soft blanket of white.

She stopped and looked up at the huge rambling redbrick house, its roof covered with snow. Large blobs had started to melt on the corners of the chimney stacks, and stalactite icicles hung from the drainpipes. Balustrades surrounding the terrace wore caps of snow. The view over the garden and valley beyond could only have been created in heaven. She glance at the groves of trees shrouded in white mantles and variegated shrubs, and weeping willows around the fishpond; at the tamed and well-kept gardens, the smooth lawns and rows of white-coated perennial flower beds.

In the summer, the flowers were a carnival of colour. Everything flourished in the loamy soil. Tall white and yellow gladioli, azure-blue delphiniums, bush upon bush of lavender, pale blue scabies and purple and white lilac. The line of rose bushes that had been heavy with pink and red blooms, now had a single red rose struggling to survive under the weight of snow suspended on its fragile petals. She and Michael had planned the garden together. The vegetable patch was his pride and joy. Naome never failed to get a twinge of excitement and satisfaction at her flower arrangements and bottles of pickles and jams, all their own produce.

Everything was still, as if holding its breath. The silence was suddenly broken by one of the horses in the paddock; unaccustomed to the snow, they nosed for grass and flicked the fresh hay in disgust. Plumes of white mist from their nostrils trailed on the icy air.

Naome smiled as she skirted the shrubbery to the back of the house, gratified at making as many tracks as possible. It reminded her of when she and her sister, India, were small and would race to be the first to disturb the snow. The beauty of the garden and house made her realize how fortunate she was, and how much she loved Michael; his old indiscretions with other women dulled into the distant past. She had seen the deep love for her in his eyes and felt it in his lovemaking. She couldn’t remember when he’d last been so caring and used such loving words.

She felt on top of the world as she got into her car. But her hands froze on the steering wheel as she began to reverse out of the courtyard. A piece of white lace on the back seat turned her blood to ice in disbelief as she snatched it up. An agonized moan was wrenched from her throat at discovering it was a lacy waist-slip with the button missing. Humiliation warred with anger within her. This wasn’t happening, not again. It couldn’t be, especially after their wonderful lovemaking, his tender words. After all she had forgiven her husband last time, he was having another affair.

Naome felt sure she knew the owner of the slip, Melinda Grey, a scheming voluptuous woman who was always hanging around the house. From the expensive lace, she knew Michael must have paid for it, for Melinda’s own husband couldn’t afford such gifts.

I’ll kill him! she raged. He’s had one of his whores in my car now. Does our marriage mean nothing to him? That’s the end. Sudden terror grabbed her throat and held it, a sick feeling rose from the pit of her stomach at the thought of their lovemaking. Had it been the same with her? Naome felt robbed, duped and deceived.

She buried her head in her hands, her heart lacerated. She loved Michael so much. Even now she loved him, but it could not go on. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the slip. This time I’m leaving him. That bitch wanted me to find out. Her expression hardened as the thought occurred to her. Any woman who was having an affair with a married man would take care not to be found out. After making love in a car, both parties would make sure there was no incriminating evidence left which would be discovered and blow the lid off. Especially as it was Naome’s car!

Melinda had wanted it to be found and wanted to flaunt her possession of Naome’s husband. Her eyes narrowed. Mrs. Grey was going to get more than she bargained for.

Naome clutched the slip and stormed out of the car. Her trip to her mother’s forgotten. They were not going to get away with it.

When the bedroom door banged open Michael shot up in bed and stared at Naome. He scratched his tousled hair, then rubbed his bare arms as if the cold was getting to his naked body

God, woman, what do you think you’re doing? he grumbled. What’s that dishcloth you’ve got in your hand?

You can keep the surprise you promised me later; I’ve got one for you, now. Dishcloth! She raged. This belongs to one of your tarts. Racing were you yesterday did you say? Yes, you were blasted well coming home straight! And you used my car. You’ve gone too far this time. You and your lies disgust me. Her face was crimson and her eyes filled with tears as she tried to subdue the untamed thumping her heart. She hurled the petticoat at him. It draped over his head as he sat with his mouth open. His smile was still there, but the light faded in his eyes as they narrowed and scrutinized her face.

Don’t be dramatic, he said with an air of casual confidence. His tongue came out to wipe his dry lips, and he rubbed his hand through his hair, playing for time while he dreamed up an excuse.

We didn’t do anything. She said the slip was tight and took it off to be more comfortable. He bit his lip and was visibly upset. I know you don’t believe me. His face was riddled with guilt and his head hung in shame. What can I say? Except to beg your forgiveness and to say I’m sorry. It meant nothing.

Impulsively she clapped her hands over her face to hide the burning tears. Her inner instincts were confirmed by the glint of guilt in his eyes before they dropped from hers. She lifted her chin determinedly. This time I can’t forgive you. I told you last time I wouldn’t tolerate you being unfaithful, she fumed, unmoved by his words. It meant nothing! Using my car! Then I obviously mean nothing. I’m sick of your lies, deceit and broken promises, and I’m leaving." Before her resolve crumpled she snatched the slip back. It may be necessary as evidence. She didn’t wait to hear anything else. His lies would hurt, and she’d heard them all before.

Leaving the house she drove to her mother’s. It had started to snow again and driving through the labyrinth of country lanes with patches of black ice took all her concentration. She hoped her mother would be there. Since her father’s death her mother had become fiercely independent, running her own antique business which involved a great deal of travel abroad. She was in her early fifties and very attractive. Her hair was dark brown with gold lights, and her lustrous hazel eyes, gold veined. Her elegant fashion sense was enhanced by her poise and charm. Although only five-foot three and slightly built, she seemed to sail through life with ease, expecting others to do the same. Naome wished she had the same confidence.

To her relief, her mother was home. The limestone cottage was a sanctuary. What a lovely surprise! Come in, it’s freezing. What brings you out so early? You look awful. She pushed Naome through the kitchen into the cozy

living room.

What’s happened? Is Michael up to his old tricks? She uncannily guessed the truth.

Naome’s eyes closed; tears oozed under her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. Her mother gathered her into her arms.

I can’t take any more; this time he’s broken me completely. It’s the end of our marriage. I can’t believe the smooth charm he used to beguile me, and all the time he was living a lie.

What are you going to do? Are you really going to leave him? her mother interrupted, searching her face, her own eyes filled with tears as they met the sad blue of her daughter’s.

I have to show him I won’t tolerate such behavior.

I’m glad India isn’t here; she’d have gone crazy. It’s just as well your sister’s at university or she’d confront Michael. You know her temper.

Naome wiped her eyes. I have to handle this problem myself.

Her mother squeezed her hand. I’m afraid only you can do it. I know how much you love him, darling, but I can’t influence you one way or the other. I have to return to the states soon, just for a few days. But if you need me, I’ll be there. You’re going to have to be strong.

I’m not going to let that bitch get away with it this time, Naome said fiercely. I’ll make sure she never has the effrontery to behave like that again. That’s more like your old spirit, like your father’s. It’s what I like to hear, her mother agreed. "But darling, keep your dignity; don’t become a fishwife.

Don’t give her the satisfaction."

The words comforted Naome and sustained her courage. She forced a determined smile.

What would I do without you? You and India are everything to me, especially now daddy has gone. Why did he have to die so young? He would have known how to handle Michael and that woman. Naome pushed her hair back from her face. Melinda Grey will regret taking me on.

That’s how daddy would want you to react, her mother encouraged. I’ve had to be strong. Thank God he taught me. It’s a hard world out there, especially for a woman alone in business. I know I haven’t always been here for you darling, but I love you and I know you’ll get through this. I’m only a phone call away.

After spending the day with her mother her grief had turned to anger, and on the drive home Naome’s thoughts of self-pity turned into rage. Her husband and his mistress had made a fool of her, and she planned her strategy of how the tables could be turned. The house was in darkness when she drove up the long drive. There was no one in. Michael had slunk off somewhere until the air had cooled, just like all the other times.

She went straight upstairs and ran a hot bath. Lying in it her thoughts were bleak. The house was so empty without him, as empty as her life would be in the future. I have to leave him, she moaned, but how can I live without him? I must be strong; make new friends and a new life for myself.

Naome knew it would take planning, but she didn’t see why she should be driven out of her home without a fight. Besides, she wasn’t going to leave without confronting Melinda.

Incidents returned to torment her. She recalled stupid, knowing looks passing between Melinda and Michael, and how they would sit closer than was needed. Melinda would whisper behind her hand; the deceitful bitch. How could Michael have denied it time and time again? The more she thought about it, the more determined Naome became to confront her. She would telephone her in the morning and ask her for coffee. She wouldn’t suspect anything because it was Naome’s turn.

Naome had never liked Melinda Grey. She made an effort because they were tenants and she liked her husband, Brian, who was kind and amiable toward her. She did it for Michael’s sake when he encouraged her to be friendly. He often criticized Naome for not seeing more of Melinda! What a shit! He was using her as a foil so Melinda’s husband wouldn’t suspect.

This revelation pumped outrage through her. She went to bed in the spare room and finally fell asleep, exhausted by her rage. She did not wake in the night or hear Michael come back, but she heard him leave in the morning. That’s right run away with your tail between your legs, she ground out, her anger returning as she dialed Melinda Grey’s number.

Hello, Melinda, it’s Naome, She made her voice sound as calm and casual as she could. Are you doing anything this morning?

No, not really, why? Melinda sounded curious and a little nervous. Will you come for coffee about eleven?

I’ll be there…

Naome rang off, lying back on the pillows. She was shaking but was delighted that the first hurdle was over. The knock on the bedroom door startled her. Come in.

Penny Clark, their housekeeper, entered the room carrying a small tray with some biscuits and coffee. She didn’t question why Naome was in the spare room, but Penny was shrewd and probably guessed.

Penny was tall and buxom. Her freckled complexion had a ruddy glow to it. Naome was sure it was all the years of cycling to work. She and her husband, Stan, lived in a tied cottage on the estate. Michael employed him. They had no children, and she had been with them since Naome and Michael were married. Her mother had worked for Michael’s family before her.

Nothing happened in the small parish without Penny noticing, especially if it concerned the Hansons; she was fiercely loyal to Naome.

Naome noticed Penny didn’t greet her with her usual cheery manner; she was agitated and fidgety, avoiding Naome’s eyes, so she decided not to ask what the problem was. She needed to tell her that Melinda Grey was calling for coffee and to make sure it was tidy everywhere and the fire lit in the drawing room. Everything must be perfect.

Morning, Penny. I won’t bother with coffee, thank you. I need to get up and take a bath; Melinda Grey’s coming for coffee at eleven…

Gaud ‘elp us! Penny exploded.

Why so agitated, Penny? Naome sat up, bewildered by her outburst which was so unlike her.

’Bleedin’ perplexed, that’s what I am. Pardon me, Naome, I reckon it’s high time as you knew what’s goin’ on under your very nose… Penny blurted out in her broad country dialect.

I beg your pardon…

Don’t think you’ve been hiding them tears from me all this time; it’s fair broke me heart to see it. I told our Stan I could bear no more. She got her hanky from the pocket of her navy flowered overall and blew her nose. The blasted hussy, entertaining him of a Monday market day, because her husband’s away. She thinks you too daft to know what’s going on. I’ll tell you something you ought to know, and you can sack me if you like, I don’t care. I can’t bear it no more. She burst into tears.

Please calm down. Tell me what? Naome braced herself, not wanting to hear any details.

That hussy and Mr. Michael. Penny folded her arms across her chest. I’m not going to say who told us, but you can take it from me, he’s no liar. He saw them in the wood just off the road outside the village. He’d pulled off to relieve himself. Saw it all as plain as day, naked, makin’ love in her car. He told me he near wet himself when he came across them in case they saw him, but they were too busy…

Stop! Naome jumped out of bed and covered her ears. She’d spoken more loudly than she intended. Penny, I can visualize it all; you needn’t be so graphic! She fought to keep her composure and stop rising nausea, then took a deep breath to subdue the crazed thudding in her chest. Her heart was breaking. She bit her lip to stop the tears. I know about them, Penny.

There now, I’ve gone and told you. She sounded remorseful. It’s about time; I needed to get it off my chest. If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, you need to get it off yours; find the courage to confront her and tell her this very mornin’ "I love him so much. How could he have done this to me? Where did I go

wrong?" She choked on the words and covered her face with her hands.

Penny shook her head, her voice troubled. You didn’t go wrong, neither did he. He loves you to distraction. It’s just she’s a temptress and knows what to do with a man. Penny shuffled uncomfortably, her face crimson at discussing such personal things. You’re p’raps a little innocent. She knew that and set her sights. I tell you, it ain’t his cock she’s after; it’s his pocket as well. Pardon me for being so crude."

Naome paced the bedroom. How could I have been so stupid? I knew all along. I just didn’t want to face the truth; too afraid of losing him. Do you really think he loves and wants me, Penny?

Don’t talk daft, of course he loves and wants you. If he really loved her he could have her. He’s rich as Croesus. He could afford to give you what you want an’ marry her. He only wants what she’s putting on a plate! Penny reassured her. Remember, you don’t have to run for the train when you’re on it.

Naome agreed with Penny. Why would Michael stay with her if he didn’t love her? He could have anyone. But did she want him as he is? Is love enough after this further betrayal?

Madam will be with you in a minute Penny declared as she showed Melinda into the drawing room. She’s expecting you. Take a seat. she said curtly.

Melinda breezed past Penny into the room, handing her green duffel coat to her as she entered. Her frizzy, mousy hair was blown into disarray. She wore her faded blue jeans, exaggerating her hips. Her grey roll neck jumper had wool fuzz balls at the elbows.

Deliberately ignoring the chair Penny gestured to, she walked around, her careless boots sinking into the deep-piled cream carpet. The elegant room, coffee and cream and muted pinks, was filled with beautiful antique furniture, porcelain and fine paintings. Melinda had always envied them and the fact that Naome was a picture restorer and good at it; whereas she herself had no such profession or similar skills. Melinda resented being summoned here. She was as good as Naome; she gave Michael what he wanted. Her thoughts were bitter. Why did this spoiled bitch have all this? She doesn’t appreciate it; just took it for granted like everything else, like Michael. Well, he’ll soon be mine, she resolved. This will all be mine. She studied her favorite painting, a snow scene by a Dutch artist; then paused when she heard a door bang.

Naome was ready for Melinda when she heard the doorbell, but decided to keep her waiting; she wanted her to feel inferior. There was no sign of Michael. He was waiting for things to blow over. Only this time, they wouldn’t. This time he’d gone too far.

She won’t take Michael from me. I’ll let him go when I’m ready. She’s going first, Naome fumed. Penny is right. I am already on the train in a first- class seat. I’m his wife; she is not.

She smoothed her hand over her casually smart pale blue cashmere dress, which enhanced her deep blue eyes, then glanced at her image in the mirror and tossed back her long, fair hair. She was a beautiful woman, although she only considered herself attractive. She wore little makeup; Michael had always said her beauty didn’t need it.

Inside she was shaking, she felt defenseless, humiliated and betrayed; but that bitch would never see it. She would put Melinda Grey in her place and stop her cocky arrogance. The woman thought she was the cat that got the cream first. Naome’s eyes narrowed, allowing her anger momentarily to get the better of her. I’d love to shove her smirking face into a bowl of sour cream. But no, softly, softly catch the monkey; that was the way to deal with that scheming hussy.

Naome uttered a hasty prayer, "God in heaven, give me strength and dignity.

Despite Michael’s faults, I love him so much."

As she entered the drawing room her eyes met Melinda’s. For the first time she realized she had bland features, a big nose, and greenish eyes like a mean cat. The sensuous mouth showed the trait which had attracted Michael.

Hi! It’s cold out there. Sorry I was late; couldn’t get the Land Rover to start. Melinda lifted a mocking brow and eyed Naome, her voice becoming smug. You’re dressed up. Are you going anywhere? Nice dress. I find jeans so much more practical, especially in this kind of weather. She knew Naome had worn the dress this morning to make her feel scruffy. The bitch had done it on purpose. Her heart pounded with growing unease. Was she onto her and Michael? Arrogantly she dismissed the idea. Naome was too naïve. No wonder Michael wanted a woman like herself.

Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets she surveyed the room again, and imagined herself as lady of the manor. Then she’d see that pretty face change! It was just a matter of time!

The door opened and Penny came in, without looking at Melinda, and placed the tray in front of Naome, giving her a knowing wink before leaving the room.

Suddenly the reality of the bitter truth thumped her mind like a sledge hammer blow, the pain almost physical, but Naome kept her composure.

Sit down. It’s warmer over here.

Melinda scowled at her departing figure. I wouldn’t put up with that rude woman. For some reason she doesn’t like me. I’m surprised you keep her.

Naome dismissed her remark and poured the coffee, her thoughts bleak as she handed the cup to her. You’d get rid of poor Penny if you thought you could move in here; it’s written all over your face. I bet you think you’re halfway to claiming my home! You can think again, you impudent bitch. She checked her thoughts; careful now.

Lovely coffee; I needed that, Melinda smiled; her eyes mocked. The one I made myself earlier went cold with Michael talking so long. He called to see

Brian about something on the farm, but he’d gone to fix one of the tractors." Her expression was one of self-importance. So that’s where Michael had been. Pangs of agony tore her heart at the vision of them together, but if Melinda was trying to wind her up, she wouldn’t rise to the bait. She lit a cigarette, relieved that her hands didn’t shake. Inside she was smoldering with fury at this woman’s brazenness.

So what did you want to see me about, or did you just want the pleasure of my company for coffee? Melinda asked slyly. Your invitation sounded like a summons. Her eyes sparkled with malice, That’s not like you, Naome.

Naome stubbed at her cigarette and fixed Melinda with a chilling glare. No, it wasn’t for the pleasure of your company. I suppose you could say it was more of a demand. You’re right, it is out of character for me, but we all change when pushed too far; and you’re going to see a lot of changes, Melinda. I’ve known about your sleeping with my husband for some time. Until now I’ve ignored your sex exploits. Naome was calm and felt a glow of triumph when Melinda’s face turned red, then drained to white.

Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve known him for years; we’re just good friends. Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. I can’t help it if he flirts with me. I don’t encourage him; I don’t have to. Standing up she shoved her hands in her pockets again and thrust her bust out aggressively.

You insolent, cocksure bitch! Haven’t you any shame? You were seen in the wood! In my car! Do I have to give you the sordid details? Discretion is one thing, but did you really think I would allow such blatant behavior to continue?

Melinda smirked. So you know. Well, it’s been going on for about five years. I’m surprised you didn’t find out before. Her expression was triumphant. She believed she’d won the battle.

A sickening revelation dawned on Naome; he’d probably made love to both of them in the same day. The shit! The thunderbolt was more painful this time; the force enough to buckle her knees, but she gripped her hands together to stop shaking. Melinda’s mocking eyes and insidious grin inferred that she and Michael had sex frequently. The revelation motivated her to fight this woman. Naome flared.

Did you really think by leaving your slip in my car that you could push the issue? Naome forced a taunting laugh. "Did you think you could persuade Michael to divorce me and marry an insignificant nobody like you? If you did, you were a fool. I feel sorry for your naivete. If as you say it’s been going on for five years, why are you not here taking my place? I’ll tell you why. Michael

I will never marry you. Even if I left him he wouldn’t. But if I learn that you have been near my husband again I’ll tell your husband, and I won’t spare him the details."

Melinda blanched. She knew Naome meant what she said. Her expression was no longer cocky. Her husband would throw her out. She began to tremble. Don’t tell Brian, please. He’d give up the farm. It’s his life. He’s never been a violent man, but if he finds out, he may be.

You should have given some thought to your husband’s future when you embarked on your escapade. Naome knew she was now in control and decided to end the meeting. She walked toward the door. Now you had better leave.

You won’t tell Brian, will you? She sounded desperate and frightened. Clearly Michael hadn’t spoken of their future. Naome knew that he wouldn’t because they both had too much to lose.

I won’t have to, Naome replied calmly. I’m going to give you enough rope and watch you hang yourself! She closed the door; her expression formidable as she heard the Land Rover’s engine burst into life.

To her surprise Naome felt calm and knew she was in control. For the moment she would say nothing to Michael. He had sworn to change, and if he didn’t he would realize that his loving wife was not the gullible innocent of old.

Today she had shown new strength and determination, an inner capacity to cope, to leave if she had to. Naome resolved never again would she allow herself to be taken for a fool; if Michael wanted her to stay, things would have to be very different.

CHAPTER TWO

One week had gone by since Naome’s confrontation with Melinda. Michael was away. Ironically, he departed that same morning on the pretext of a three- day race meeting; then later to visit a stud farm. She had no way of knowing if he and Melinda had spoken. But it was obvious by his frequent and attentive phone calls, he knew. He begged her forgiveness, saying he would change. Had he meant what he said? Women were so susceptible to his handsome looks and charm, and she’d been no exception.

How different it had all been in the beginning.

They had first met twelve years ago. She was eighteen and had just left the convent to attend college. The memory of that evening was vivid in her mind. She had been invited to an evening swimming party and wasn’t keen on the group of friends going. They were sure to become rowdy and overpowering. The night air was warm after the hot summer day and Naome, escaping the crowd, went for a swim in the deserted pool.

Concentrating on staying afloat? The voice startled her. When she looked at the man swimming toward her she was thrown off balance by his youthful good looks. She registered his bronze face. His piercing blue eyes twinkled with intoxicating mischief as he studied her admiringly. As if mesmerized by his eyes and tanned face she experienced a tingle of sexual attraction, realizing he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. There was something about his manner which was exciting and dangerous.

He swam closer toward her and strategically placed himself in front of her. How come I missed such a pretty face all night? he teased. Have you only just arrived? Or were you waiting for an empty pool?

A shiver, which had nothing to do with the cold water, ran down her spine. She wasn’t a strong swimmer, and sensed he was going to use it to his advantage. I’ve been here all evening, she answered, while trying to stand on the bottom but her head went under the water. She broke the surface gasping for air and was desperate to get back into her depth, but her legs seemed unable to work in the water. If she thrashed around too violently there was a danger that

her bikini top may come off.

His arms slid around her bare midriff, drawing her closely against his half- naked body. We can’t have you drowning when I’ve just found you. He held her afloat, treading water. She was aware of the strong muscles of his thighs and the firmness of his smooth skin as his legs gently encircled her thighs.

His intense gaze and the nearness of him bewitched her; she felt on fire. This man was breaking down her defenses one by one. Turning away from the hypnotic blue of his eyes she tried to pull away, saying I’m alright. In her agitation she swallowed more water and began to cough. If she struggled she risked going under again. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be held. Seeing her anxiety, he smiled and swam with her to a shallow part of the pool.

What’s your name? he asked, without releasing her.

Naome Anderson, she answered, shaken by the incident. Then pushing against his broad shoulders she added, "Excuse me, I’m getting cold. I must get dressed.

Don’t be in such a hurry. My name is Michael Hanson. I’ll wait for you outside the house; I’d like to show you the garden if you haven’t seen it. His smile was irresistible; he spoke with an air of casual confidence, sure that she would go with him.

Never had she met a man who stirred her emotions so much. She was confused, but excited. He seemed to mesmerize her. She changed into her silk skirt, tied her wet hair into a ponytail, and walked down the steps of the house. At seeing him waiting for her, her heart beat erratically.

You were quick. He studied her as he took her arm. The colour of his eyes stunned Naome. His blonde, wet hair was sleeked to one side and she noticed he had a small scar through his left eyebrow which enhanced his looks; adding strength to a somewhat baby face. His nose had been broken but the bend was very slight.

He took her hand and the warmth of his strong fingers sent a tingling heat along her arm. I’ll show you the garden. He led her to the rose beds at the back of the house; their heady perfume filled the night air. He was taking pains to put her at ease as they sauntered along a narrow path toward a potting shed at the end of the garden. Gently he drew her around toward him and eased her back against the wooden panels.

Why haven’t I seen you before? You’re beautiful. Where have you been hiding? His arm slid around her waist, bringing her closer to him, and his hand moved under her silk skirt onto the cheek of her bottom! You’re all damp, he said with a wicked smile. He kept his hand on her bottom, waiting to see Naome’s reaction.

I dried myself in a hurry. She was flustered, not knowing what else to say as he pressed his body against her thin skirt. The pressure of his erection against her thigh made her stomach lurch. It stirred emotions in her that she’d never felt before. Instinctively, she wanted to open her legs. His touch was exciting, arousing a longing for something she wasn’t sure of. It made her euphoric, tempting her to allow him to make love to her. It was crazy. She had to stop him, say something, but she was so innocent she didn’t know how to respond. At his touch her thoughts became frenzied. A yearning welled up within her. Looking into his eyes she saw the enticement there and suddenly became frightened. Naome had no knowledge of carnal love with past boyfriends, allowing only the occasional kiss and cuddle. No other man stirred such passion in her. Suddenly realizing the position he’d put her in, she was affronted by his forwardness. Shame and guilt were spurred on by anger and her hand stung as she slapped his face. Her fingers left a vivid scarlet mark on his jaw.

My, aren’t we a volatile creature. Standing back, he smiled.

My apologies; I don’t know why I behaved like that. What I mean is, I do, but I’ve never slapped a man before. I… She stopped, completely flustered.

Can I take you home? I’ll take the girl I came with home, then return for you.

Irritated by his presumptuous manner, Naome’s face became flushed. He needed putting in his place. No, I’m going home with the boy I came with.

Ignoring her protest he hurried to his parked red sports car. Even though the night air had become chilled and damp, the girl had been sitting in the open- topped car. He drove her home and returned to the party, assured that Naome would leave with him.

Naome soon learned that once Michael made up his mind he was determined to have his way. The days that followed seemed to melt into one. Michael would pick her up from college and take her swimming. Or she would miss college altogether and go horse racing with hm. He owned several horses, but apart from that Naome knew little about him except that she knew she was falling in love. They had not yet made love.

One Saturday Michael collected her early, not wanting to waste any of the day. Naome had prepared a picnic. They hadn’t driven many miles before he slowed and pulled off the road to park under the shade of some trees on the edge of a cornfield.

I want to lie with you, hold you in my arms, he coaxed. I want to feel you next to me. This isn’t the most romantic spot, but I want to make love to you. I can’t wait any longer. I’m burning for you. You’re driving me crazy. He reached for a rug from behind the seats, and taking Naome’s hand led her to the edge of the field. Putting the rug on the ground, he gently pulled her down beside him.

Oh, how she remembered those warm kisses, slow and confident, coaxing her lips apart searching her tongue. The kisses were sweet and urgent; her resistance melted when he pressed his body against hers, one leg across her thigh, as his hand searched between her legs, feeling the dampness within her. She was totally defenseless as he stroked her face and gazed into her eyes, his own filled with deep desire and genuine love.

Naome felt again the consuming passion and ecstasy of those kisses years ago. He undressed, revealing a tan masculine body with firm skin. She’d never seen a man totally naked before and wanted to look at him. Tentatively, she ran her fingers over his belly down toward his erection. She was too shy to look at his face, but not too shy to touch him. He rolled her over and helped her take off her clothes.

Their naked bodies became ecstatically entwined, so sexually aroused making her lose all inhibitions. Spasms of delight filled her body, accompanied by a desperate urge as he stimulated her into submission.

Darling, forgive me, I can’t hold back. I love you so.

Searing pain shot through her loins but subsided into a dull ache as he entered her. Each time he half withdrew she almost wanted him to stop, but he re-entered her deeper each time. As his strokes quickened her inside felt as if it were being stretched. Suddenly, it was all over in a few minutes! It was still painful, but the pain was mixed with something very sharp sticking into her backside. Ouch! was all she could say.

Why didn’t you tell me? Michael was concerned. Was it very painful? I was too shy to tell you I was still a virgin… she faltered, too embarrassed to continue.

Darling, I’m sorry. Was it such a terrible experience? His smile was enigmatic.

No, not exactly, she lied, but the pain of losing one’s virginity was not a subject the nuns taught or talked about. She forced a smile. I don’t think a stubble field was a good choice for the first time. She felt self-conscious and disappointed as she pulled on her clothes. Was that it? Why had some of her college friends said it was wonderful? I need a tissue to wipe myself, she said, and blushed.

At her dilemma, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and looked the other way while she used it. I’m sorry this spot was a bad choice. The stubble wasn’t meant to stick in you, only I was! he joked, to put her at ease.

The rest of the day was spent laughing, kissing, eating, and on the way home they talked. He told her that he had inherited a large estate, and mentioned that most of his money was tied up. It hadn’t crossed her mind to ask what he did; that side of him didn’t matter to Naome. She had already fallen in love with him.

Naturally, her parents wanted to get to know Michael better. He and her father had hit it off immediately. Her mother reserved her opinion. Michael took to India right from the start, clearly taken with her stunning good looks and dark hair. Unable to prevent a stab of jealousy, Naome was glad her sister was going back to University.

After that first time, their lovemaking became wonderful. When she experienced her first orgasm her entire body felt as if it floated on a cloud; she was totally oblivious to the world about her. Michael was her world.

The only thing that marred their glorious wedding was the fact that her parents thought she was too young. Michael’s parents were already dead. Two blissfully happy years followed. Then her world was shattered when she discovered that Michael was having casual relationships with stable girls. A place in her heart felt cold and empty, as if he’d taken his love away. It was her love and she wanted it back. She despised herself for begging and pleading for his love, and wouldn’t have blamed him for losing respect for her. Michael had assured her that he had been drinking. It was just sex for sex sake; the girls weren’t important.

Can you forgive me? he pleaded so eloquently. I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve done is inexcusable. Please, darling, say you’ll forgive me. I only love you. It will never happen again, I promise.

The winter wind blew through the creeper outside her window; its tentacle branches scratched at the windowpane like witches claws, and brought Naome back to the full bitterness of truth and the cold reality of present events. She leaned back on the pillow and gazed out at the lead-coloured sky. The pain of loving Michael was unbearable. The thought had never occurred to her that she could lose him to anyone except death. She had cried so much, and still the painful tears oozed between her lashes. She knew she couldn’t take his infidelities; she had to make plans for the future.

The telephone rang and she was surprised at the excitement in her mother’s voice. I can’t chat for long; I’ve got to get to the shop. How would you like the job of manageress of an antiques shop? It would be a wonderful new experience while you sort out things between yourself and Michael.

But mother, I don’t think I know enough…

Nonsense, of course you do. I can teach you the rest. Besides, I’ve arranged an interview on Thursday, she insisted. Naome hadn’t a chance to wriggle out. I’ll pick you up at ten. It’s in Uxbridge. Don’t worry, darling, it will be fine. I know you’re just what they are looking for. I’m sorry, I have to dash. I’m late. I love you. She was gone.

Naome stared at the telephone. Her mother had arranged everything, but the idea was exciting. It could be just what she needed and would take her mind off Michael.

When her mother parked her outside Uxbridge Antiques, Naome was excited but nervous. The shop window displayed a variety of beautiful antiques. On the journey her mother had chatted about inconsequential and avoided mentioning Michael. She was practical and encouraging. Peter Bodenham will interview you. It will only be short because there is an auction today. Don’t worry, darling, you’ll be fine. I’ll wait here.

From her mother’s description Naome recognized the tall balding, distinguished man in the shop as Peter Bodenham. He was very smart in a navy blazer with a bow tie, and he wore a red rose in his buttonhole.

Charming, isn’t it. I sometimes stay here if I’m working late. What date would you put on it? Peter asked casually.

She answered without hesitation and he asked several more questions to test her knowledge and nodded, satisfied with her answers. I must say, I never expected to find the right person so quickly. It was my good fortune that your mother heard from a mutual friend in the business that I was looking. If you want the job, it’s yours. You can start in a week.

Sunday came, Michael phoned. He was brief, saying he’d be home for lunch. Naome’s nerves were in shreds at the thought of seeing him, not knowing what her reaction would be. She prayed he wouldn’t lower her defenses like before, and tried to be enthusiastic about cooking lunch. She used to look forward to cooking for Michael and herself, but now she’d lost the enthusiasm. But she made an effort, thinking it may be the last she’d be doing for a long time. At least there was the job to look forward to; she knew she could leave. She no longer knew if having him was enough; she needed time to sort out her life.

The meat was overcooked, so what! she thought. She’d just put it on the side to cool when she heard Michael’s car arrive. Dashing to the cloakroom, she quickly combed her hair and adjusted her makeup. She didn’t want him to see her tear-stained face. Her heart pounded as he came toward her in the hall; his arms outstretched to greet her. Naome, darling, I missed you so…

Please, Michael, don’t tell me this, she stopped him, unable to bear any more.

At least let me tell you I love you; I always will.

She let him hold her, and as she looked at him, never before had she seen an expression of such fathomless sadness in his eyes. It tore her apart, as if his despair was her own. His gaze penetrated and gripped her heart; how would she endure being without him? Naome was saved from having to respond by the sound of the back doorbell.

She broke free from his embrace and called I won’t be a minute. When Naome opened the door, Brian Grey, Melinda’s husband, stood there, his face flushed.

I hope I haven’t disturbed you he said, coming in and taking off his cap. His eyes were red, and he looked dejected and forlorn. Michael and Melinda have been having an affair, and you knew, didn’t you, he blurted out. I must have been blind. Although I’ve suspected for a long time, but yesterday one of my workmen told me. I feel such a fool. Is it true?

Naome could hardly bring herself to look at the pain and hurt written on his face. Her heart went out to him. She knew exactly how he felt, betrayed.

You can ask Michael yourself, she evaded. I’ll call him."

When Michael came into the kitchen and saw Brian’s distraught appearance, his nonchalant air changed; his expression turned to one of apprehension.

Morning, Brian, how are you? Can I offer you a scotch to keep the cold out? His smile was restrained.

Brian looked Michael squarely in the face, and twisted his cap around in his hands. Perhaps you should pour yourself one, I think you’ll need it…

I beg your pardon, Brian, is something wrong? Michael looked quite stunned for a second, but quickly regained his composure.

You tell me. Brian’s tone was belligerent. Unless you consider committing adultery with another man’s wife not wrong!

Michael flushed, unable to face him. His hand shook as he took his time pouring the drinks.

Who are you talking about, Brian? I don’t understand you, he said casually, and calmly handed Brian his drink.

Naome fumed as Michael played with Brian’s emotions. Her husband would smooth-talk his way out of the situation. For God’s sake, Michael, stop this nonsense; tell the truth. Tell him you’ve been having an affair with Melinda for years! Her anger showed in her eyes as she spit out the words.

God in heaven! Brian rounded on him. I don’t believe it. You were my mate, my friend, or so I thought. I’m finished. How can I hold my head up when you, you bastard, have made a laughing stock of me? Brian’s face was purple with rage and he pushed his scotch to one side. Keep your scotch; it’ll poison me. I suppose because you own my farm that I’ve built up over the years, you think you own my wife? Well, you can blasted well have her. Do you think I want her now? His voice shook as he wrenched his cap around in his hands.

Michael’s temper rose. You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s not what you think. It was just a fling.

Naome did not dare speak; she poured herself a scotch to stop herself from shaking. It all seemed so sordid.

A fling? Is that what you call it? Brian slammed his cap on his head and tugged the peak down determinedly. I’ll get Melinda. Let’s see if she says it was a fling. Not giving Michael a chance to answer he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Michael stared out of the window in silence.

Why did you do it? Naome could no longer control her pain. I loved you so much. You promised me it had stopped. I thought we had been through our bad patch and that you loved me, loved me as you did before.

Michael refilled his glass without looking at her. It fueled her anger. The sexual side is hard enough to bear, but the insurmountable pain is the thought of what we had, or thought we had, obviously meant nothing to you. Uncontrollable tears slipped from her eyes. You’ve shared with her the wonderful things that should belong to me, to us. I feel my soul is bared for the entire world to see. She struggled to master her tears and started to carve the meat. She needed to do something to keep her composure.

I love only you, Michael declared. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve shared nothing of what we have with her. I never told her I loved her. That’s what makes her so mad. His eyes searched Naome’s for forgiveness. What can I say?

Please don’t say anything, she snapped.

The tension crackled between them. Neither of them spoke. Naome strived for normality and continued to carve the meat. The silence was broken by the sound of a car coming up the drive. Doors slammed, and the back door was flung open.

Let go of me! Melinda’s frightened voice carried to them.

No, get in there, Brian shouted. I want to see your face now. See you try and deny it. He pushed her into the kitchen so roughly that she fell against the Aga cooker. Melinda quickly composed herself, shrugged, then leaned back against it. Her grey jumper was covered with snowflakes and she brushed them off before turning to Naome. Her head was held high, her glare callous as her lips curled into a shameless smile. She ran her fingers through her short mousy hair, impervious to the shocked faces around her.

Dressed in blue denims and leather short boots, the grey sweater hung loosely over her jeans; her manner outraged Naome. Her husband’s mistress was clearly preparing herself for what she thought would be a walk over.

Brian’s hands shook as he unbuttoned his brown jacket. The poor man looked close to tears as he glared at Michael. "You’d better have the