The Innocent's Surrender. Sara Craven
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you did not think to tell me,’ he said. ‘Why not?’
‘Because you’d already made up your mind what I was,’ she said. ‘Thanks to that revolting letter. So you wouldn’t have believed me, whatever I’d said.’ She paused. ‘Besides, even if you had known, would it have made any difference to—to what you were planning for me?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Except that I would have made sure that your body was rather more receptive to such an initiation.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I hurt you, Natasha mou, but by the time I realised the truth, it was too late, and I regret that.’
He paused. ‘My only excuse is that I wanted you very badly.’
‘Well, please don’t let it weigh on what passes for your conscience,’ she said tautly. ‘In the broad scheme of things, it’s hardly the worst injury you’ll make me suffer, I’m sure.’
He said slowly, ‘It does not have to be like that.’
Her eyes flew to his. She said hoarsely, ‘Do you mean you’re willing to let me go after all?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I am not, so do not even hope.’
‘But why?’ She swallowed. ‘You’ve got what you wanted, so you don’t need to keep me around any longer. There’s no point.’
‘There is the pleasure of your company,’ he corrected silkily.
‘You can say that when you know I hate you?’ Natasha shook her head. ‘When you must realise that I wouldn’t voluntarily choose to spend five minutes with you?’
‘Perhaps, Natasha mou, you will discover that I improve on acquaintance.’ His voice was solemn, but, to her fury, amusement was dancing in the dark eyes. ‘And to prove that I too can be kind on occasion, we will take that shower you mentioned.’
We…? Alarm bells sounded in her head as Alex tossed away the covers and swung himself off the bed.
She clutched at the sheet. ‘I—I can wait…’ she said, trying, even at this juncture, not to look at him.
‘Why—when there is no need?’ He was laughing openly now. ‘Believe me, my lovely one, you have nothing to fear. You will never be safer from my attentions than you are now.’ He held out a hand. ‘Come with me.’
He waited, and when she still hesitated he sighed briefly and impatiently, twitched the sheet from her grasp and scooped her up from the bed, carrying her in his arms across the room to a door standing ajar, and shouldering it open.
Natasha received a fleeting impression of creamy tiles marbled in blue and gold, and mirrors everywhere, as Alex walked with her to a shower cabinet almost as large as the entire bathroom at her flat. He set her on her feet directly under the shower head and joined her, switching on the water to full power.
As the force of it hit her, she gasped, and Alex’s arm went round her, steadying her. After a moment, he adjusted the flow, and reached for the shower gel. He tipped some into his hand, turning her so that her back was towards him, and began to apply the scented lather to her skin, beginning with her shoulders and working downwards in small circular movements, his fingertips firm and very sure.
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