Marriage Under Suspicion Read Online Free PDF

different.
    With a silent sigh, Kate wandered back into the living area, and stood for a moment,
    staring at the closed door to Ryan's office. There was nothing in the world to stop her
    crossing the space that divided them, of course.
    She could open that door, go into that room, and ask how much longer he was going to
    be. She'd done it before, after all. And on more than one occasion she'd left her clothes on
    the floor first.
    But even as her mouth curved in a reminiscent smile she knew she would not be doing so
    this evening.
    When she'd gone to Ryan earlier, put her arm around him, he'd held her in return. But
    there'd been no passion in his response. No kindling intimacy in his touch. Once, he
    would have drawn her close against his body, found her mouth with his, his hands
    rediscovering all the sweet, sensuous routes to their mutual desire.
    She had never before offered herself, and been rejected.
    Although it hadn't been a real rejection, she assured herself quickly. After all, he'd said
    'Later', hadn't he?
    But, although this was later, she knew she wasn't going to risk it. She would let him set
    the parameters tonight.
    She went up to the bedroom. In her lingerie drawer, she found the nightgown she'd
    bought the previous month on an impulse, but not yet worn. She unwrapped the layers of
    tissue and looked at it with satisfaction.
    It was ivory satin, and classically simple, the bodice deeply slashed beneath shoestring
    straps, the skirt cut cleverly to cling.
    Seductive, she thought, without being obvious. And there would never be a better time to
    try its effect.
    She changed into it, brushed her hair loose over her shoulders, and added a breath of
    Patou's Joy to her throat, wrists and breasts.
    Then, leaving one shaded lamp burning, she lay down on top of the bed to wait for him.
    And we'll just see if he makes that early start for Whitmead, she thought, smiling to
    herself. Or if he'll have to ring his parents, and tell them he can't be there after all. Such a
    shame.
    It was the kind of situation that usually she'd revel in, but somehow she found it
    impossible to relax—to think herself into the appropriate frame of mind.
    She was planning to ravish her own husband. She wanted him to find her warm and
    willing, not nerve-racked and clammy-skinned. She needed to feel anticipation, not
    uncertainty.
    She found she kept turning her head restively towards the stairs, every sense alert for a
    sound, or sign of movement. But there was nothing. Ryan had said he wouldn't be long,
    but the time seemed endless.
    She remembered the deep breathing learned at her Yoga classes at college, and its
    calming effect. She let herself sink into the mattress, counting silently to herself as she
    inhaled, held the drawn breath then slowly released it.
    Gradually, she felt her inner tension ease, but at the same time her eyelids began to grow
    heavy.
    Sleep, she thought drowsily. I mustn't go to sleep. I have to wait—wait for Ryan...
    It was the cold that woke her eventually. She sat up with a shiver, one glance at the bed
    beside her telling her that she was still alone. The numbers on the clock radio informed
    her it was the early hours of the morning.
    She slid off the bed, put on her robe and went downstairs.
    Ryan was lying, fast asleep, on one of the sofas. Nearby the television still hummed
    gently, its screen blank.
    Kate turned off the power, before bending over her husband, shaking his shoulder gently.
    'Ryan,' she whispered. 'Darling, you can't stay here. Come to bed—please.'
    He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but he didn't stir, not even when
    she shook him again, harder.
    She waited for a moment, then trailed slowly and defeatedly back to the gallery.
    Even under the covers, the king-size bed felt frigid and unwelcoming.
    She thought, So, he fell asleep in front of the television. It happens. It's no big deal.
    And suddenly found that she wanted, very badly, to cry. Because it was a very big