Read Online Night Watcher by Chris Longmuir - Free Book Online

that Nicole had become.
    ‘But why should I?’ she muttered, throwing open the kitchen door. Giving vent to her pent up anger, she slammed it shut behind her. It made her feel slightly better, although she knew Scott would complain later. ‘I don’t bloody well care,’ she screamed, knowing he could not hear her.
    She clattered the wok onto the hob of the cooker and splashed some oil into it, leaving it to get hot while she hurriedly selected a bottle of wine and rummaged in the fridge. Thank God for instant food. She threw the ingredients into the pan, shaking it, so they merged and mixed into an attractive concoction.
    The gas flame licked round the bottom of the pan until the oil began to smoke, making the mixture sizzle and spark. Nicole adjusted the flame, stirring, shaking the pan, and muttering over the brew, like a witch casting a spell that would make Scott a more understanding man. And it would, because after he had eaten he would mellow and be his usual charming self, and then maybe, just maybe, they would make love in the massive bed she’d had specially made for them. And the lovemaking would be all the better because of the fight they’d had. There was something about a good fight and a dominant man that made her as horny as hell, although she would never tell him that.
    She shook the wok for the last time, then lowered the gas beneath it even further so she could leave it long enough to rummage in the kitchen drawer for the silver cutlery. Grabbing a pair of linen napkins, she ran through to the dining room and started to set the table wishing, not for the first time, that Scott would at least share some of the chores. But the wish was a non-starter because he never would. It was not in his nature. She was out of breath by the time she had stopped rushing between the dining room and kitchen and had time to inspect the table, dim the lights and put a match to the candles. The wine glasses glinted in the candlelight, the crystal throwing facets of the glow upwards and outwards. Surely Scott would have nothing to complain about this time? Surely it was as near perfection as he could expect?
    Resentment flared, burning in her chest like the flame from the candle, as she thought of how critical he could be even when everything was perfect. Not for him a cold or reheated meal prepared by the daily maid and left in the fridge, a TV dinner on his knee in front of the television, or a casual meal at the kitchen table. It had to be something special prepared by his wife’s own hands and served on the dining room table with good wine, the best silver and candles flickering in the antique candelabra. But, Nicole had to admit, now the table was ready it had a certain feel of class and it helped her forget her more earthy roots.
    It was those roots which made her vulnerable to Scott’s criticism and exposed the lack of self-esteem she successfully hid from everyone else. Scott knew only too well how to undermine her tough exterior, and he delighted in seeing her revert to the insecurities of her childhood, but tonight she was damned if she was going to give him that pleasure.
    Scott was where she expected him to be, sprawled on the lounge sofa with his shoe-clad feet resting on a cream, silk cushion. ‘Dinner’s ready,’ she murmured, walking to him and leaning over to kiss his forehead.
    He reached up and grasped one of her wrists. Tightening his grip, he twisted until she was forced to her knees.
    ‘Not before time,’ he grunted. ‘One of these days I’ll come home and it’ll be on the table waiting.’ Releasing her arm he swung his feet to the ground and stretched to his full height, making her crane her neck to see his face. He smiled at her, the tenderness in his expression transforming him into the Scott she loved. ‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘what are you waiting for? Now it’s ready we’d better eat it.’
    Scott attacked the food on his plate with a ferociousness that reflected his attitude to