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life. It was as if there was a fire and an anger burning within him that needed to be stoked. She watched him, surreptitiously, but it would not have mattered if she had laid down her fork and stared. He would not have noticed.
    Sometimes she wondered about her feelings for him, and although she was sure she loved him when they were writhing in each other’s arms at night, she was not so sure afterwards, when he turned away from her. She wanted him now with a desire that warmed her, making her glow with the depth of her need for him, and reminding her of earlier times when her passion was for him alone. Times when she did not need other men to fill the emptiness that crept over her more frequently now. An emptiness she never seemed able to fill.
    She remembered him as he had been sixteen years ago, when first they met. She had loved him then with an unquenchable passion and could not quite believe it when he had wanted to marry her. He had been older and more experienced than the other boy friends she had known, while she had been a sexually-naïve, fifteen-year old child who thought herself grown up. She remembered thinking he had seemed so sophisticated and mature and she could not understand why he had wanted her, an awkward, skinny girl who was too frightened to speak, and could not believe he was real. Even now he was still handsome, although he had passed his forty-first birthday. His features were strong and well-defined, with a straight nose overshadowing lips which were on the full side, and a chin that jutted outwards a little too far. And she knew, without him raising his eyelids to look at her, that his eyes were dark brown with a sensual, magnetic quality that seemed to hypnotize and fascinate. They could sparkle with anger, smoulder with lust or penetrate with a glare, but above all they could paralyse with a stare rather like a snake hypnotising its prey. His eyes were what made his face so attractive and alive, and she often felt they were what held her to him.
    Forcing herself to look away she glanced at the window, although it was too dark to see outside. A slight movement made her put her fork down with a clatter. She half rose from her chair.
    ‘Something wrong?’ Scott looked up from his plate.
    ‘No . . . well I’m not sure . . . I thought for a moment someone was outside.’
    Scott pushed his chair back and strode to the window. ‘Who’d be out there? We’re not expecting anyone, are we?’
    Nicole did not want to provoke him, so she said, ‘I probably imagined it, but I could swear I saw the shadows move.’
    ‘How can you see shadows move? That’s impossible. Anyway it’s too dark out there for you to have seen anything, but I suppose I’ll have to go out and check.’ He threw his napkin on the table and strode out of the room.
    ‘It’s not really necessary,’ she murmured, but he was gone.
    A few minutes later he tapped on the window and she could see the outline of his face as he pressed it to the glass. His lips moved and she could just make out the words, ‘There’s nothing out here.’ She nodded in response and hoped his foray outside had not made him angry.
    He vanished from sight, reappearing in the dining room with a wide smile on his face. ‘Silly little woman,’ he said in a disparaging tone, and she knew he was all right.
    However, she was not.
    The resentment rose in her like a tide of bile because he had assumed the role he enjoyed most, that of protector and master of the house. She wished he had just stayed angry. She could cope with that, but not this, never this, the patronising, belittling attitude he adopted towards her, which made her feel he was laughing at her.
    She fought against her anger. If she allowed it to take over it would spoil their evening together and he would stomp off, in the sulks, to one of the spare bedrooms. After all, it was not as if she didn’t know why he had to act the way he did. She knew only too well. It was his way of suppressing