Read Online Act of Betrayal by Sara Craven - Free Book Online

being reunited with old friends, doesn't it
    sweetie?' Her tone dripped honey. Alan said rather disagreeably,
    'So this place belongs to friends of yours. She seems very young
    to be running her own business.' Laura said calmly, 'But I can
    promise she's had a training in catering second to none. Bethany
    did the whole course, not the year's diploma which I took.
    Anyway, why don't we have our meal before we start passing
    judgment?' Alan flushed slightly as he picked up his menu, and
    Laura sighed inwardly as she studied hers. It wasn't his fault
    that the evening wasn't going as he expected. She had no appetite
    at all, but for Bethany's sake she had to make an effort, so she
    chose melon, followed by a dish of chicken breasts cooked in
    cream and white wine. Jason chose beef in burgundy, and Celia
    opted for Sole Veronique after some pretty dithering, and appeals
    to everyone else to help her make up her mind. Alan, rather to
    Laura's amusement, chose all the most difficult dishes on the
    menu. Look, she wanted to say to him,"ybo're doing a piece for
    the local paper, not a test meal for the Good Food Guide. They
    drank the new restaurant's health in champagne, and then Alan
    agonised over the wine list to an extent which Laura found
    embarrassing. He was obviously out to establish himself as a
    connoisseur in Celia and Jason's eyes, she realised ruefully, and
    was failing miserably. She saw her cousin send Jason a covert
    glance of contemptuous amusement, and cringed inwardly. But the
    food, when it came, was perfectly cooked and expertly presented,
    and the wines Alan had so ponderously chosen complemented it
    well, she had to admit, wishing at the same time that he was
    drinking less of it himself. His comments on his food were
    appreciative but over-loud, and he was making ostentatious notes
    on the corner of his menu. She began to wonder uneasily just how
    much whisky he'd consumed at the cocktail party. Her uncle, she
    knew, tended to pour with a lavish hand, and had taught Celia to
    do the same. She hoped he would refuse the inevitable cognacs
    they were offered with their coffee, and was frankly dismayed
    when he accepted not just the first offer, but the, second,
    especially when she saw the swift glance Jason sent him, and the
    faint mordant twist of his mouth. All through the meal, she'd
    been aware of him sitting opposite to her—conscious that he was
    watching her, the grey eyes flicking restlessly from her face to
    her throat and shoulders, half-revealed by the low neckline of
    the smoky dress, then down to the glimpse it afforded of the
    shadowy cleft between her breasts. She was as physically aware of
    him, as if he'd been touching her with his hands instead of his
    eyes. She watched, as if hypnotised, the way the lean brown
    fingers cupped the brandy goblet, and knew, the breath thickening
    in her throat, that he was deliberately trying to evoke other
    more intimate memories. For Jason, lovemaking had been yet
    another art form to be explored, Laura thought with an
    uncomfortable twist of the heart. He'd been so unhurried with her
    at first, so patient with her initial shyness, knowing, she
    supposed bitterly, remembering his earlier taunt, that his
    patience would be rewarded. Eventually she'd learned to relax
    completely in his arms, to take as well as give, to trust him . .
    . She clattered her coffee cup back into its saucer with a
    shaking hand. It was the betrayal of that trust she had to
    remember, not the warmth, the laughter, and the fierce mutual
    passion which had preceded it. With something like panic, she
    touched Alan's arm. 'It's getting late. I think we should be
    going.' 'What's the hurry?' His words were slurred, she realised
    with irritation, aware of Celia's derisive smile. She found
    herself wondering again exactly how much he'd had to drink all
    evening. Jason said smoothly, ' I f you're tired, Laura, we can
    drive you home.' 'No need for that,' Alan said with a