Read Online Marriage Under Suspicion by Sara Craven - Free Book Online
Authors: Sara Craven
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satisfaction.
Only he didn't move. And his breath wasn't ragged with newly kindled desire, but smooth
and even.
My God, Kate thought, torn between anger and sheer physical frustration. I don't believe
it. I've sent him to sleep.
I was a damn sight kinder to him than I was to myself, she thought now, staring at the
screen of her computer. As it was she'd tossed and turned for most of the night, furiously
aware of Ryan's untroubled slumber beside her.
She'd slept eventually, only to be awoken by the sound of the shower, and Ryan's
cheerful whistling from the bathroom. As if, she thought vengefully, he didn't have a care
in the world.
In the past, a back massage had always been a big turn-on for him. He'd never before
failed to respond to her ministrations.
A pattern seemed to be emerging in their relationship that she did not even dare to
contemplate.
He'd emerged from the bathroom, towelling his hair dry, his only covering another towel
draped loosely round his hips.
'Morning, Katie.' His grin had been as casual as his greeting. 'Sleep well?'
'You clearly did.' She couldn't hide the note of acid in her voice, but Ryan had appeared
not to notice. 'I told you I was bushed.' He'd combed his damp hair into place, then
dropped the towel he was wearing to the floor as he reached for a pair of the brief black
underpants he favoured, 'And you have healing hands, my love.
Not sexy hands. Not arousing hands, but healing hands. Good old Nurse Katie, she
thought furiously. She sounded like some lovable character from a daytime soap.
She'd said coolly, 'Thank you—I think,' then had tossed back the covers and got out of
bed. She'd never been self-conscious about being naked in front of Ryan in the past, but
as she'd walked past him to the bathroom today every inch of her had seemed to be
burning up.
But that was what a man's indifference did to you, she thought wretchedly, re-living
every step. You felt you had to cover up, and tiptoe.
But how long could she go on like this? At midday, she telephoned the apartment, to sug-
gest that Ryan meet her somewhere for lunch, but the answering machine was on, and she
rang off without leaving a message.
He might be working, and not wish to be disturbed. Or he might be out somewhere
with—someone. And, somehow, she didn't want to know.
In spite of her heavy thoughts, she managed to get through her day's work, although she
knew that, for once, she hadn't given it her best shot.
She was just finishing a quote for a silver wedding, when Louie came breezing in. 'Know
any authentic Greek restaurants? Guy wants to take his wife out for an anniversary dinner
as near to their honeymoon on Corfu as he can get. All retsina, smashing plates and
lukewarm chips.'
‘Why doesn't he just take her back to Corfu?' Kate said dourly.
'That's not the attitude,' Louie reproved. 'We're Special Occasions, remember?'
Kate sighed. 'I know—and I'm sorry. I'll give it some thought tonight.'
Louie gave her a long look. 'Why not let tonight start now?' she suggested. 'You've been
really quiet all day. It might do you good to go home early. Devote some time to Ryan.
Hell, have your very own Special Occasion.'
'Perhaps,' Kate said slowly, 'that's not such a bad idea.'
She'd play it cool, she told herself on the way home. No more heavy-handed attempts at
seduction, which only ended in her own humiliation and frustration. Instead, she'd try and
re-open the lines of communication. Find out if there was anything left.
And if there wasn't? she asked herself, desperately. What then? What could she do—how
could she survive?
She shook her head in disbelief. Only forty-eight hours ago, she'd been totally in control.
I was the business, she thought. But now I'm running round like a headless chicken. And
it can't go on, whatever the consequences.
The apartment was quiet when she let herself in, but Ryan's office door was shut,
indicating that he was in there working.
Normally,
Only he didn't move. And his breath wasn't ragged with newly kindled desire, but smooth
and even.
My God, Kate thought, torn between anger and sheer physical frustration. I don't believe
it. I've sent him to sleep.
I was a damn sight kinder to him than I was to myself, she thought now, staring at the
screen of her computer. As it was she'd tossed and turned for most of the night, furiously
aware of Ryan's untroubled slumber beside her.
She'd slept eventually, only to be awoken by the sound of the shower, and Ryan's
cheerful whistling from the bathroom. As if, she thought vengefully, he didn't have a care
in the world.
In the past, a back massage had always been a big turn-on for him. He'd never before
failed to respond to her ministrations.
A pattern seemed to be emerging in their relationship that she did not even dare to
contemplate.
He'd emerged from the bathroom, towelling his hair dry, his only covering another towel
draped loosely round his hips.
'Morning, Katie.' His grin had been as casual as his greeting. 'Sleep well?'
'You clearly did.' She couldn't hide the note of acid in her voice, but Ryan had appeared
not to notice. 'I told you I was bushed.' He'd combed his damp hair into place, then
dropped the towel he was wearing to the floor as he reached for a pair of the brief black
underpants he favoured, 'And you have healing hands, my love.
Not sexy hands. Not arousing hands, but healing hands. Good old Nurse Katie, she
thought furiously. She sounded like some lovable character from a daytime soap.
She'd said coolly, 'Thank you—I think,' then had tossed back the covers and got out of
bed. She'd never been self-conscious about being naked in front of Ryan in the past, but
as she'd walked past him to the bathroom today every inch of her had seemed to be
burning up.
But that was what a man's indifference did to you, she thought wretchedly, re-living
every step. You felt you had to cover up, and tiptoe.
But how long could she go on like this? At midday, she telephoned the apartment, to sug-
gest that Ryan meet her somewhere for lunch, but the answering machine was on, and she
rang off without leaving a message.
He might be working, and not wish to be disturbed. Or he might be out somewhere
with—someone. And, somehow, she didn't want to know.
In spite of her heavy thoughts, she managed to get through her day's work, although she
knew that, for once, she hadn't given it her best shot.
She was just finishing a quote for a silver wedding, when Louie came breezing in. 'Know
any authentic Greek restaurants? Guy wants to take his wife out for an anniversary dinner
as near to their honeymoon on Corfu as he can get. All retsina, smashing plates and
lukewarm chips.'
‘Why doesn't he just take her back to Corfu?' Kate said dourly.
'That's not the attitude,' Louie reproved. 'We're Special Occasions, remember?'
Kate sighed. 'I know—and I'm sorry. I'll give it some thought tonight.'
Louie gave her a long look. 'Why not let tonight start now?' she suggested. 'You've been
really quiet all day. It might do you good to go home early. Devote some time to Ryan.
Hell, have your very own Special Occasion.'
'Perhaps,' Kate said slowly, 'that's not such a bad idea.'
She'd play it cool, she told herself on the way home. No more heavy-handed attempts at
seduction, which only ended in her own humiliation and frustration. Instead, she'd try and
re-open the lines of communication. Find out if there was anything left.
And if there wasn't? she asked herself, desperately. What then? What could she do—how
could she survive?
She shook her head in disbelief. Only forty-eight hours ago, she'd been totally in control.
I was the business, she thought. But now I'm running round like a headless chicken. And
it can't go on, whatever the consequences.
The apartment was quiet when she let herself in, but Ryan's office door was shut,
indicating that he was in there working.
Normally,
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