The Yuletide Child, Charlotte Lamb [best novels to read .TXT] 📗

‘I love it,’ Dylan said, getting up with care. ‘And I would love to have a bath, thank you. It would make me feel more human.’

Ross had unpacked his overnight bag and hung his clean shirts in the wardrobe, set out his shaving kit, toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, all at his usual methodical pace. He liked a tidy space around him.

Looking at his watch, he saw he had fifteen minutes to kill before going down for a drink with his friends before lunch, so he sat down at the small table by the window to go over some notes he had made on subjects he wanted to raise during the discussions later. Therewas no time to waste. He must make sure his points were hammered home. But it was hard to concentrate, which was usual for him. His mind had always been very much under his control, as fit and disciplined as his body. Lately, though, he couldn’t be quite so certain of either.

The bitter row with Dylan was nagging away at him. It had been madness to marry her. They were too different. If only he hadn’t been so obsessed with her! He should have known she would never put up with his lifestyle. It was the opposite of everything she had known. She had always lived in a city. She didn’t understand country life. She liked crowds. They didn’t have any neighbours, and the few they did have had nothing in common with her.

He had hoped she would make friends with Suzy, but before long he had realised that was not on the cards. They were chalk and cheese, opposites of each other. It was a pity. He wished Dylan was more like Suzy in some ways—a little more down to earth, less volatile, less hypersensitive.

Desire had blinded him to everything in Dylan that made her the wrong wife for him. Her beautiful, supple body made his blood run hot, his hunger rise. He hadn’t cared in the beginning that she had never done any housework, knew nothing about gardening, was afraid of the forest he loved with a silent, intense passion. All he’d cared about at first was that he needed her, had to have her in his bed every night, the smooth-skinned warmth of her body moulded to his own.

Now he never touched her, slept in another bedroom as much as possible, tried never to look at her. Their marriage, in the physical sense, did not exist any more.

With a smothered groan he looked at his watch. Why wasn’t Suzy here yet? She was supposed to slip up tohis room in secret before lunch. Nobody must see her. Surely she wasn’t going to be late, today of all days?

Turning to stare out of the window, he saw a flurry of white flakes go past and stiffened. Snow! So the forecast had been wrong, and Dylan right. She would be frantic. He had better check that she was okay, reassure her.

Picking up the phone, he dialled hurriedly, but there was no reply. The phone rang and rang. Surely she couldn’t be outside in this weather? Remembering that he had left his mobile with her, he tried the number only to be told the phone was not in service.

For several minutes Ross sat staring out at the snowfall, which was clearly becoming a blizzard, his expression grim. Dylan was alone, with no phone.

She would be petrified, and with so short a time to go before the birth she might panic herself into starting labour. He couldn’t risk it. He would never forgive himself if she lost this baby. It would probably mean the end of their marriage.

He had to get back to her, make sure nothing was really wrong. Even though that meant letting Suzy down. It couldn’t be helped. What else could he do?

The phone next to him rang, making him start. It could be Dylan! He picked it up, said huskily, ‘Hello?’

‘Ross, darling!’ said a warm, sensual voice.

‘Suzy, where are you? Downstairs? Come on up. You know nobody must see you.’

‘No, no, I’m only just leaving. Alan hung around for ages before he went; I could have throttled him—but I’m on my way now, and I’ll see you at around three, okay? Leave the key of the room at the desk; it should be safe enough—everyone should be in this meeting of yours. Bye, love.’

‘Suzy, listen, I have a problem—’ Ross began, but the line had gone dead.

Damn! He replaced the phone with a growl of impatience. Oh, well, he would have to leave her a note, explaining why he wouldn’t be there tonight. He had to let her down. All he could do was hope she wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Lying back in the scented warmth of the bath, Dylan idly contemplated her naked pink toes at the far end and suddenly remembered Ross nibbling them one night when they’d shared a bath, each at opposite ends. While he softly licked and chewed her toes he had been caressing her intimately with his own, making her giggle and shiver with arousal.

‘I want you,’ Ross had said abruptly, in a voice deep with passion, and slithered like a snake up her body, pushing his hands under her weak, wet limbs to lift her, open her, so that he could slide inside, his face pillowed on her breasts as he made love to her.

They had made love everywhere in those early months of marriage. Now they never made love at all.

Was it Suzy? How long had this affair gone on? No, she wouldn’t think about it. It hurt too much.

Stifling a groan, Dylan climbed out, dripping, and put on the white towelling robe Ruth had given her, then sat down on the cork-topped bathroom stool to dry herself carefully. Her bruised ankle felt a little better, although the swelling was all the colours of the rainbow now.

Ruth had also lent her a Victorian-style white cotton nightdress, the bodice busy