Her mind flashed her a disconcerting image of herself a couple of minutes ago and her face burned. It was hard to believe that had been her, going crazy on this bed, out of all control.
Was that what Ritchie was thinking about? Was he remembering, too? Oh, God, how can I ever look him in the face again?
When he started talking she jumped in shock.
"I'll have to be out of here in ten minutes. Ted's flying down to pick me up and take me to London. I'm having dinner with someone important, I have to go. Ted was going to meet me at a local airfield but on the way out here I managed to get in touch with him on my car phone and get him to re-route. He'll put down on the nearest field which looks suitable." The curt, businesslike tones were like a slap in the face. She couldn't believe he was talking to her like that.
While she was still stunned with the shock of that, Ritchie swung himself off the bed and walked away across the room.
Her hot colour draining away, she opened her eyes to stare after him in disbelief. How could he talk to her in a brusque off-hand voice after they had made love like that? She still hadn't stopped shaking after it, yet he seemed to have forgotten already. Hadn't it mean anything to him? The wild intensity, the clamouring need, the long-drawn-out ecstasy, all forgotten?
Or was he talking that way deliberately? Trying to hurt her? She remembered the darkness she had seen in his eyes in the garden, the ice edging his voice, and shivered.
What did I know about him now, anyway? Three years was a long time. Ritchie had visibly changed. What invisible changes had there been? What went on inside his head?
She watched him walking across her bedroom totally naked, she couldn't take her eyes off the broad shoulders, long, smooth back, the muscled legs with their rough, dark hair along the calves. He moved with such an impatient, unselfconscious, masculine grace, and Linzi felt very weird, having him there, in her bedroom. He acted as if he belonged there, as if he was absolutely at home, but Linzi couldn't adjust to the intimacy of the situation.
Without a backward glance he walked into the bathroom, closed the door. A second later she heard the shower start.
She scrambled off the bed and pulled a cotton dressing gown out of her wardrobe, put it on with shaky hands, tied the frilled belt with a large bow just as Ritchie came back into the bedroom with a bath-towel tied around his waist, his bare, damp shoulders gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight.
Her throat closed up. No man should be that sexy, it wasn't fair. She had to look away, swallowing. If only she knew why he was acting this way. What had their lovemaking really meant to him? He had talked about needing her, wanting her...., she tried to remember him using the word love, and couldn't. Why had he been so determined to find her? To make her admit she was in love with him? To get her into bed?
Megan had warned her that Ritchie was bitter, might come looking for her to get some sort of angry revenge. Was that it?
Linzi's stomach clenched in sick shame. Had he set out to seduce her just to get revenge?
He was carrying his clothes, she watched him drop them on the end of the bed while he put on his wristwatch and turned to her dressing-table to run a comb through his wet hair.
In the mirror his reflected eyes skated to Linzi, absorbed the fact that she was now wearing a full-length, long-sleeved dressing-gown with a high Ruff neck, a sash belt tied tightly around her waist.
His brow arched in mockery. "Very Victorian, I preferred you the way you were."
Pink flowered in her face, she looked away, her hands clenched at her sides, wanting to hit him.
Ritchie laughed, then began to dress with quick, economical movements.
Linzi summoned up her last remnant of pride and walked out of the room without a word. He was making it insultingly clear that the way they'd made love had meant nothing to him, it had all been a game to him. Ok, two could play at that game. She wasn't bursting into tears, pleading with him, allowing him the satisfaction of seeing her on her knees.
She went downstairs, into the kitchen, and filled the kettle, put it on the hob. As she got a cup and saucer down she heard the whir of the helicopter and looked out of the window in time to see it descending into the field just in front of the cottage, whipping the tall grass into a whirlpool of green ears and bending stems. Ted could put down on a sixpence, he often said, but she was always impressed by his skill.
Thinking of Ted made her blush suddenly. He wouldn't come to the cottage, would he? If he saw her in her dressing-gown, guessed she had been to bed with Ritchie, she would want to die of embarrassment. He would go back and tell Megan. Linzi put her hands against her hot face, stifling a groan. Behind her, she heard a firm step and tensed, not daring to turn round or face him.
"I'll walk over and meet Ted," Ritchie said brusquely. "I won't bring him back here. We'll take off right away."
She nodded, not risking her voice in case she broke into tears. Was he really leaving like this? He must hate me to want to hurt me this much.
She heard him stride out of the room, through the hall, slamming the front door behind him a moment later. From the window she watched as he ran across the lane into the field. A few moments later the helicopter took off again, the blades rotating, the grass bending and blowing in that circular motion. Linzi watched them fly into the blue haze of the late spring day, their black shadow following them across the fields below.
The kettle boiled. The kitchen filled with steam and the sound of whistling. Linzi was crying so much that she couldn't move for a minute, then she made herself go over to switch off the heat under the kettle. Like an automaton she made herself instant black coffee and sat down with the mug in her shaking hands.
How could I have let this happen to me?! If Ritchie had come here for revenge, he had certainly got it.
Humiliation welled up inside her, she bit her lip until she tasted blood. Would he be back? He hadn't said and I refused to humiliate myself more by asking. But one thing was certain. I won't be staying here, waiting for Ritchie!
As soon as she could pull herself together she was leaving, packing everything back into her car and clearing out. But where should she go? That was the question.
If she went back to Aunt Ella and the antiques shop, Ritchie would know where to find her any time he chose. She had money saved, she could find a new home, a new job, and start again. Somewhere else.
Yet why should she? Why should she let Ritchie drive her away from a place she liked, a job she had learnt to love? From the only family she had left in the world? She had grown very fond of Aunt Ella and Gareth and little Paul, she didn't want to lose touch with them again, and she knew they would be just as sad at such a prospect.
Maybe she should talk it over with them? If Ritchie was going to London to dinner he wouldn't be back tonight, if he ever did come back! She had time to discuss her future with Aunt Ella and Gareth, take their advice as to what she should do next.
She finished her coffee and went upstairs to start packing. It didn't take long, as she had very little with her's and she could get it all into a couple of cases and a few cardboard boxes.
YOU ARE READING
Guilty Love (Completed)
Romansa"Everything I did was for you!" "For me? You killed my husband for me? Do you really think I wanted him dead? I loved him!" It was an obsessive passion. It had gone too far, and Linzi's husband had died as a result of it. Ritchie Calhoun was sexy an...
