Read Online The Seduction Game by Sara Craven - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sara Craven
Ads: Link
me,’ he added.
‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘My sympathies are with Brazil. The rainforest has enough problems already.’
‘A kitten showing her claws?’ he asked unpleasantly. ‘Don’t try and play rough with me, darling, or you’ll get hurt.’
She was hurt already. She was disintegrating, bleeding to death. How-could he not see that?
‘I’ll ask Julie to wait in the bathroom while you clear out,’ he went on. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d hurry. She’s forgotten more about sex than you’ll ever know, and I’m keen to jog her memory again.’
She tried not to look at the rumpled bed as she emptied drawers into her cases, piling the clothes and possessions on top of each other without regard. The scent of Opium hung heavy in the air, and she knew she would hate its fragrance until her dying day. She left her keys on the coffee table and went out, closing the door quietly behind her.
She hailed a passing taxi, and told it to take her to her parents’ house in Chelsea.
The driver glanced at her in his mirror. ‘You all right, gal?’
‘Yes,’ she said, tears chasing themselves down her white face. ‘Never better.’
Tara sat bolt upright in bed. She was shaking and her cotton shirt was clinging to her damp body, as if she’d been startled into wakefulness from some dreadful nightmare.
She pushed back the covers, and, stumbling slightly, went over to the window, drawing back the curtains. The sky was silver with daylight, and there was a faint mist rising from the river. Riding silently at anchor, Caroline looked like a ghost ship, but she was there, and only too real, Tara thought broodingly.
She sat down, resting her folded arms on the window-sill.
She knew exactly why the past had come back to haunt her. The reason was sleeping in his cabin, a stone’s throw away, out on the water.
Adam Barnard had imposed himself on her life—impinged upon her consciousness in a way that no man had been permitted to do since Jack.
Never again. That was what she’d kept telling herself in the stunned, heartbroken weeks that had followed their break-up. No man is ever getting that close to me again.
Every ugly word he’d spoken had seemed to crawl like acid over her skin. She had hardly been able to bear to look at herself in the mirror. Drab, she’d thought, boring, undesirable. She would carry them, stamped on her, like the brand of Cain her whole life through.
She had not simply fallen for Jack. She had trusted him, believed in him, so his betrayal had been total.
When he had gone, the truth slowly began to emerge. People who had kept silent in view of her obvious happiness had come shamefacedly forward, Anna among them.
‘Babe, I did warn you—at my father’s birthday party. Dad said he was a bad lot from the first. All flash and no substance.’
Tara hadn’t argued with her. After all, she’d thought wearily, even if Anna had completed her warning, would she have believed her?
Julie had not been Jack’s first act of infidelity by any means, and he’d jeered openly at Tara’s gullibility for believing him when he’d said he was working late, or attending weekend seminars.
‘You know I hate to leave you, sweet, but it’s for our future,’ he’d used to whisper to her ardently, and the memory left her shaking and nauseated.
Her parents had been wonderful, her mother openly distressed when Tara had insisted on going back to work the day after she’d arrived at the Chelsea house in a state near collapse.
‘I need to work,’ Tara had told her bluntly. ‘That way I don’t have to think.’
Coldly, single-mindedly, she’d thrown herself into her career. Within a year she’d gained promotion, and an appropriate pay rise. She’d found her flat, decorated it, and furnished it slowly and with care. Finally she’d acquired Melusine.
A career—a life—a companion. Who could ask for anything more?
She’d believed she was totally self-sufficient—‘fireproof’ even—and
‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘My sympathies are with Brazil. The rainforest has enough problems already.’
‘A kitten showing her claws?’ he asked unpleasantly. ‘Don’t try and play rough with me, darling, or you’ll get hurt.’
She was hurt already. She was disintegrating, bleeding to death. How-could he not see that?
‘I’ll ask Julie to wait in the bathroom while you clear out,’ he went on. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d hurry. She’s forgotten more about sex than you’ll ever know, and I’m keen to jog her memory again.’
She tried not to look at the rumpled bed as she emptied drawers into her cases, piling the clothes and possessions on top of each other without regard. The scent of Opium hung heavy in the air, and she knew she would hate its fragrance until her dying day. She left her keys on the coffee table and went out, closing the door quietly behind her.
She hailed a passing taxi, and told it to take her to her parents’ house in Chelsea.
The driver glanced at her in his mirror. ‘You all right, gal?’
‘Yes,’ she said, tears chasing themselves down her white face. ‘Never better.’
Tara sat bolt upright in bed. She was shaking and her cotton shirt was clinging to her damp body, as if she’d been startled into wakefulness from some dreadful nightmare.
She pushed back the covers, and, stumbling slightly, went over to the window, drawing back the curtains. The sky was silver with daylight, and there was a faint mist rising from the river. Riding silently at anchor, Caroline looked like a ghost ship, but she was there, and only too real, Tara thought broodingly.
She sat down, resting her folded arms on the window-sill.
She knew exactly why the past had come back to haunt her. The reason was sleeping in his cabin, a stone’s throw away, out on the water.
Adam Barnard had imposed himself on her life—impinged upon her consciousness in a way that no man had been permitted to do since Jack.
Never again. That was what she’d kept telling herself in the stunned, heartbroken weeks that had followed their break-up. No man is ever getting that close to me again.
Every ugly word he’d spoken had seemed to crawl like acid over her skin. She had hardly been able to bear to look at herself in the mirror. Drab, she’d thought, boring, undesirable. She would carry them, stamped on her, like the brand of Cain her whole life through.
She had not simply fallen for Jack. She had trusted him, believed in him, so his betrayal had been total.
When he had gone, the truth slowly began to emerge. People who had kept silent in view of her obvious happiness had come shamefacedly forward, Anna among them.
‘Babe, I did warn you—at my father’s birthday party. Dad said he was a bad lot from the first. All flash and no substance.’
Tara hadn’t argued with her. After all, she’d thought wearily, even if Anna had completed her warning, would she have believed her?
Julie had not been Jack’s first act of infidelity by any means, and he’d jeered openly at Tara’s gullibility for believing him when he’d said he was working late, or attending weekend seminars.
‘You know I hate to leave you, sweet, but it’s for our future,’ he’d used to whisper to her ardently, and the memory left her shaking and nauseated.
Her parents had been wonderful, her mother openly distressed when Tara had insisted on going back to work the day after she’d arrived at the Chelsea house in a state near collapse.
‘I need to work,’ Tara had told her bluntly. ‘That way I don’t have to think.’
Coldly, single-mindedly, she’d thrown herself into her career. Within a year she’d gained promotion, and an appropriate pay rise. She’d found her flat, decorated it, and furnished it slowly and with care. Finally she’d acquired Melusine.
A career—a life—a companion. Who could ask for anything more?
She’d believed she was totally self-sufficient—‘fireproof’ even—and
Similar Books
