Read Online The Young Wife by Stephanie Calvin - Free Book Online

in silence all the rest of the short drive to the house. The crunching of the gravel driveway, normally a comforting sound, started a little knot of tension under my ribcage that would not go away, even when I drew in several deep breaths. I hate confrontation, and the sound of raised, argumentative voices.
    The front door opened as we swung up in front of the house. I turned to Anne as I switched the engine off and could tell, by the wide-eyed look on her face, that she was impressed by the handsome Georgian facade, and the sheer size of the place.
    There wasn’t a lot of time to admire the scenery, as Leo’s sister wasted no time before swinging into the attack. She strode towards me with short, aggressive strides, and stood directly in my path, with her hips cocked and her arms folded. Perhaps it was my experience with Anne that made the difference, but I didn’t find her physical presence quite so intimidating as I had on our last encounter. I found myself thinking that she was quite short, really, and soft, underneath the fiery Latin surface. I became aware, even as she started speaking, that I was assessing her in a totally different way to the last time we had faced each other. I noticed the plump and shapely thighs which her faded jeans only served to emphasise. I noticed the heavy swell of her breasts above the folded arms, and the slight imprint of her nipples through the light yellow cotton of her shirt. She was wearing a bra, but there was the faintest chill in the afternoon breeze, which caused the little peaks of her breast-buds to show hard through the thin material. I stared at the seam of her zip, where it slipped away into the dark blue denim at her groin, and wondered if her sex was as plump as it looked. It was impossible to be afraid of her, now that I wanted to hold her down and kiss her. Kiss her purple lipstick until it was smeared over her chin. Kiss the thin, fine skin around her wet, brown eyes.
    I snapped back into the real world as the sense of her words struck me. My temper flared, and I concentrated hard on what she was saying. She had started by observing that I was back, and asked me if I was coming to pick up my things. My lack of a response and the odd look I was giving her seemed to make her nervous, and she stuttered a little as she continued.
    â€˜W-well,’ she snapped, ‘are you going to stand there all d-day? What do you want?’
    I snorted a bitter laugh of contempt, and walked past her, making sure that I gave her a swipe of my hip as I did so. I was six inches taller, and at least a stone heavier, so she was knocked off balance by me as I passed. It enraged her.
    â€˜Hey, you,’ she squawked, ‘where the fuck do you think you are going?’
    I turned on her and, planting a hand on her ample chest, I leaned into her so that our eyes were on a level and four inches apart.
    â€˜I am going into my house, to my rooms, and I am bringing my friend with me,’ I said, spitting the words out through clenched teeth. ‘Now get this through your silly little head, Vivian. I expect that Leo is glad to have you here, even though he is unable to say so: and, out of respect for his feelings, I am willing to tolerate you, and that other one, Antonia. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I won’t change my mind if you don’t treat me properly, and don’t think I won’t have you thrown out on your arse if you upset me. I have had about as much as I can stand of you, and I will not put up with it any more. Do you understand?’
    She looked stunned, yet she clearly had enough sense to nod her agreement. I think she sensed that my blood had risen, and that I was close to violence. Without another word to Vivian, or a backwards glance, I strode towards the house, pausing only to call Anne after me with a peremptory, ‘Miss Simpson, follow me and I will show you to your room.’
    I strode firmly up the stairs, knowing Anne would