make the best of it. Well, damned if she would!
Her biggest weapon, sex, had proven to be ineffective against him, and she wanted to scream at the injustice of it. He treated her as if she were a disobedient child rather than an adult, and his wife. He was nicer to that brat, Roanna, than he was to her. She was sick and tired of being left at home every day while he roamed all over the nation, for Godâs sake. He said it was business, but she was certain that at least half of his âurgentâ trips were conceived at the last moment just to prevent her from doing something fun. Just last month heâd had to fly to Chicago the morning before they were supposed to go on vacation in the Bahamas. And then there was the trip to New York last week. Heâd been gone for three days. Sheâd begged to go with him, dying withexcitement at the thought of the shops and theaters and restaurants, but heâd said he wouldnât have time for her and left without her. Just like that. The arrogant bastard; he was probably screwing some silly little secretary and didnât want his wife around to mess up his plans.
But she had her revenge. A smile broke across her face as she reined in the horse and spotted the man who was already lying stretched out on the blanket beneath the big tree, almost hidden in the secluded little cove. It was the most delicious revenge she could have imagined, made all the sweeter by her own uncontrolled response. It frightened her sometimes that she desired him so savagely. He was an animal, totally amoral, as ruthless in his way as Webb was, though without the cool, precise intellect.
She remembered the first time sheâd met him. It hadnât been long after Mamaâs funeral, after she had moved into Davencourt and wheedled Grandmother into letting her redecorate the bedroom sheâd chosen. She and Grandmother had been in town to choose fabrics, but Grandmother had run into one of her cronies in the fabric shop and Jessie had quickly gotten bored. She had already chosen the fabric she liked, so there was no reason to hang around listening to two old biddies gossip. She had told Grandmother she was going to the restaurant next door to get a Coke and made her escape.
She
had
gone there; she had learned early that she could get away with a lot more if she simply did what she really wanted to do after sheâd done what sheâd said she was going to do. That way she couldnât be accused of
lying,
for heavenâs sake. And people knew how impulsive teenagers were. So, icy Coke in hand, Jessie had then whisked herself down to the newsstand where dirty magazines were sold.
It wasnât really a newsstand, but a grimy little store that sold hobby kits, a smattering of makeup and toiletries, some âhygienicâ items such as rubbers, as well as newspapers, paperbacks, and a wide selection of magazines. The
Newsweeks
and
Good Housekeepings
were prominently displayed up front with all the other acceptable magazines, butthe forbidden ones were kept on a rack behind a counter in back, and kids werenât supposed to go back there. But old man McElroy had arthritis real bad, and he spent most of his time sitting on a stool behind the checkout counter. He couldnât really see who was in the back area unless he stood up, and he didnât stand up very often.
Jessie gave old man McElroy a sweet smile and wandered over to the cosmetic section, where she leisurely inspected a few lipsticks and selected a sheer pink lip gloss, her reason for being there should she get caught. When a customer claimed his attention, she whisked herself out of sight and slipped into the back area.
Naked women cavorted on various covers, but Jessie spared them only a brief disdainful glance. If she wanted to see a naked woman, all she had to do was strip off her clothes. What she liked were the nudist magazines, where she could see naked men. Most of the time their peckers were small
Her biggest weapon, sex, had proven to be ineffective against him, and she wanted to scream at the injustice of it. He treated her as if she were a disobedient child rather than an adult, and his wife. He was nicer to that brat, Roanna, than he was to her. She was sick and tired of being left at home every day while he roamed all over the nation, for Godâs sake. He said it was business, but she was certain that at least half of his âurgentâ trips were conceived at the last moment just to prevent her from doing something fun. Just last month heâd had to fly to Chicago the morning before they were supposed to go on vacation in the Bahamas. And then there was the trip to New York last week. Heâd been gone for three days. Sheâd begged to go with him, dying withexcitement at the thought of the shops and theaters and restaurants, but heâd said he wouldnât have time for her and left without her. Just like that. The arrogant bastard; he was probably screwing some silly little secretary and didnât want his wife around to mess up his plans.
But she had her revenge. A smile broke across her face as she reined in the horse and spotted the man who was already lying stretched out on the blanket beneath the big tree, almost hidden in the secluded little cove. It was the most delicious revenge she could have imagined, made all the sweeter by her own uncontrolled response. It frightened her sometimes that she desired him so savagely. He was an animal, totally amoral, as ruthless in his way as Webb was, though without the cool, precise intellect.
She remembered the first time sheâd met him. It hadnât been long after Mamaâs funeral, after she had moved into Davencourt and wheedled Grandmother into letting her redecorate the bedroom sheâd chosen. She and Grandmother had been in town to choose fabrics, but Grandmother had run into one of her cronies in the fabric shop and Jessie had quickly gotten bored. She had already chosen the fabric she liked, so there was no reason to hang around listening to two old biddies gossip. She had told Grandmother she was going to the restaurant next door to get a Coke and made her escape.
She
had
gone there; she had learned early that she could get away with a lot more if she simply did what she really wanted to do after sheâd done what sheâd said she was going to do. That way she couldnât be accused of
lying,
for heavenâs sake. And people knew how impulsive teenagers were. So, icy Coke in hand, Jessie had then whisked herself down to the newsstand where dirty magazines were sold.
It wasnât really a newsstand, but a grimy little store that sold hobby kits, a smattering of makeup and toiletries, some âhygienicâ items such as rubbers, as well as newspapers, paperbacks, and a wide selection of magazines. The
Newsweeks
and
Good Housekeepings
were prominently displayed up front with all the other acceptable magazines, butthe forbidden ones were kept on a rack behind a counter in back, and kids werenât supposed to go back there. But old man McElroy had arthritis real bad, and he spent most of his time sitting on a stool behind the checkout counter. He couldnât really see who was in the back area unless he stood up, and he didnât stand up very often.
Jessie gave old man McElroy a sweet smile and wandered over to the cosmetic section, where she leisurely inspected a few lipsticks and selected a sheer pink lip gloss, her reason for being there should she get caught. When a customer claimed his attention, she whisked herself out of sight and slipped into the back area.
Naked women cavorted on various covers, but Jessie spared them only a brief disdainful glance. If she wanted to see a naked woman, all she had to do was strip off her clothes. What she liked were the nudist magazines, where she could see naked men. Most of the time their peckers were small
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