click.
"Well?" he said, surveying her unsmilingly. "So you like rny house."
In this at least Charlotte did not have to dissemble, and she nodded, glad of the respite from other, more terrifying topics. "No one could do otherwise," she answered truthfully. "It's exactly the sort of place people dream of owning."
"Is it?"
Alex flexed his shoulder muscles rather wearily and then, to her dismay, sat down upon the side of the bed. He took off his jacket and tie, throwing them carelessly aside, and then stretched back on the silk coverlet, his arms above his head.
Then he became aware of how apprehensively Charlotte was watching him, and a certain cynicism invaded his ex pression; "Not yet, Charlotte!” he told her, with infuriating perception. "Not when Maria might come back at any moment. I shouldn't like to shock her."
Charlotte glared at him frustratedly . "Oh, you - you - I'm going to take a bath !"
"There's no lock on the bathroom door," he remarked lazily, closing his eyes. "But don't worry, I won't come in."
"See you don't." Charlotte snatched up her vanity case and marched towards the bathroom door. Then she hesitated, some of her assurance dwindling away. "You — you really won't come in, will you?"
Alex's eyes opened impatiently. "No, I really won't come in. This time!"
It was marvellous to strip off her clothes and get into cool water. The glass shelves above the vast circular bath were filled with crystal flagons of bath essence and body lotions, boxes of talc and dusting powders, all manner of fragrances intended to make bathing a more delightful experience. Charlotte sprinkled the bath essence sparingly. She wanted no tempting perfume clinging to her skin, inviting Alex to sample that silent inducement. Nevertheless, she did linger in the scented water, hardly daring to look beyond the evening ahead.
She heard sounds from the bedroom, and presently there was a tap at the bathroom door. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she snatched up the sponge to hold against her breast. "What - what do you want?"
Alex's voice was cool and flat. "The coffee's arrived. I just thought I'd let you know."
"Oh! Oh, well, thank you." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I - I shan't be long."
"Be as long as you like," replied Alex, without interest. "I'm going to get something rather more stimulating."
Charlotte frowned. What did he mean? Where was he going? She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of the bedrooom door slamming behind him warned her that she would be wasting her time.
By the time she emerged from the bath and had dried herself on one of the thick towels, and then dressed in the clothes she had just taken off, the coffee had cooled considerably. But it was still very refreshing. It was the Turkish variety, very strong and very black, and it was exactly what she needed after the enervating relaxation of the bath. Maria had also provided sweetmeats, tiny sticky confections, made of sugar and marzipan, to have with the coffee, but Charlotte couldn't face them.
By the time she had drunk two cups of coffee, and unpacked the contents of her vanity case, setting out her few cosmetics rather incongruously, she felt, on the dressing table, the light was beginning to fade. Walking to the long windows, she looked out on the shadowy garden, smelling the perfume from some night-scented blossom, and hearing the murmur of the sea from the cove. Dozens of insects were visible in the light that streamed from windows back along the villa, and when one particularly large moth with soft velvety wings flew close to her window, Charlotte stepped quickly backward and closed the panes.
Immediately the room felt airless, and she looked round anxiously. Near the door, a switch intimated the presence of electric lighting and she walked towards it with relief and turned it on. But no light ensued, only a curious humming sound, and after a moment's panic she realized she had turned on the air-conditioning. Breathing deeply, she
"Well?" he said, surveying her unsmilingly. "So you like rny house."
In this at least Charlotte did not have to dissemble, and she nodded, glad of the respite from other, more terrifying topics. "No one could do otherwise," she answered truthfully. "It's exactly the sort of place people dream of owning."
"Is it?"
Alex flexed his shoulder muscles rather wearily and then, to her dismay, sat down upon the side of the bed. He took off his jacket and tie, throwing them carelessly aside, and then stretched back on the silk coverlet, his arms above his head.
Then he became aware of how apprehensively Charlotte was watching him, and a certain cynicism invaded his ex pression; "Not yet, Charlotte!” he told her, with infuriating perception. "Not when Maria might come back at any moment. I shouldn't like to shock her."
Charlotte glared at him frustratedly . "Oh, you - you - I'm going to take a bath !"
"There's no lock on the bathroom door," he remarked lazily, closing his eyes. "But don't worry, I won't come in."
"See you don't." Charlotte snatched up her vanity case and marched towards the bathroom door. Then she hesitated, some of her assurance dwindling away. "You — you really won't come in, will you?"
Alex's eyes opened impatiently. "No, I really won't come in. This time!"
It was marvellous to strip off her clothes and get into cool water. The glass shelves above the vast circular bath were filled with crystal flagons of bath essence and body lotions, boxes of talc and dusting powders, all manner of fragrances intended to make bathing a more delightful experience. Charlotte sprinkled the bath essence sparingly. She wanted no tempting perfume clinging to her skin, inviting Alex to sample that silent inducement. Nevertheless, she did linger in the scented water, hardly daring to look beyond the evening ahead.
She heard sounds from the bedroom, and presently there was a tap at the bathroom door. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she snatched up the sponge to hold against her breast. "What - what do you want?"
Alex's voice was cool and flat. "The coffee's arrived. I just thought I'd let you know."
"Oh! Oh, well, thank you." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I - I shan't be long."
"Be as long as you like," replied Alex, without interest. "I'm going to get something rather more stimulating."
Charlotte frowned. What did he mean? Where was he going? She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of the bedrooom door slamming behind him warned her that she would be wasting her time.
By the time she emerged from the bath and had dried herself on one of the thick towels, and then dressed in the clothes she had just taken off, the coffee had cooled considerably. But it was still very refreshing. It was the Turkish variety, very strong and very black, and it was exactly what she needed after the enervating relaxation of the bath. Maria had also provided sweetmeats, tiny sticky confections, made of sugar and marzipan, to have with the coffee, but Charlotte couldn't face them.
By the time she had drunk two cups of coffee, and unpacked the contents of her vanity case, setting out her few cosmetics rather incongruously, she felt, on the dressing table, the light was beginning to fade. Walking to the long windows, she looked out on the shadowy garden, smelling the perfume from some night-scented blossom, and hearing the murmur of the sea from the cove. Dozens of insects were visible in the light that streamed from windows back along the villa, and when one particularly large moth with soft velvety wings flew close to her window, Charlotte stepped quickly backward and closed the panes.
Immediately the room felt airless, and she looked round anxiously. Near the door, a switch intimated the presence of electric lighting and she walked towards it with relief and turned it on. But no light ensued, only a curious humming sound, and after a moment's panic she realized she had turned on the air-conditioning. Breathing deeply, she
Similar Books
