Free Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) by Suzy Duffy

hair salon in a few days, but she was happy to blow dry it herself today. The long, shaggy look was a bit too casual for every day, but it would be perfect for a Sunday lunch with family. The up-style of the previous night had been for Peter’s benefit. He once told her that the back of her neck was one of the sexiest parts of her body, so she used it often as a weapon of seduction.
    Last night, just like most others, it worked like a charm. Within minutes Peter’s mind was very much off business and on Popsy. She found she could seduce him as easily today as she could thirty years ago.
    “Watch your back indeed,” she fumed, thinking about Jack Hoffman as she rinsed out the shampoo and lashed in an extra load of conditioner for good measure. Popsy could still attract her husband’s eye with just the slightest manipulation, but she usually made it seem like it was his idea. He sometimes liked it when she took the lead, but he was a “Type A” man. He liked to think he was in control at all times, so she let him believe it, even when it wasn’t the case. The previous evening was no exception.
    Gently stroking his leg and most importantly, pretending to not even notice what she was doing, was sufficient to haul her husband’s brain back from his business empire. Pretty soon he was a lot more focused on his assets in hand, so to speak. He’d started with her hair but made it clear that he had other places in mind. Peter didn’t play games. As soon as he wanted sex, he wanted it instantly. He was aroused fast and had to be satisfied just as fast.
    Popsy had read romance novels that talked of men who spent hours pleasuring their women. That wasn’t Peter. But what he lacked in technique, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. He was so passionate and hungry for her that it turned her on, too.
    It had been every bit her intention to seduce him after what Jack said. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she planned to find out. The first objective was to reassure herself that she still had all of her husband’s undivided love and attention. The Renoir story had shocked her more than a little.
    Lying on the plush Afghan carpet of her drawing room floor the night before, it seemed pretty clear from her perspective that she still had his affection.
    “God, you’re so gorgeous,” he’d mumbled into her disheveled hair as he made love to her.
    “So are you, Peter. I love you and only you,” she’d whispered, lying under him, welcoming him into her body.
    “Me, too,” he agreed, sounding even more muffled. “Only you. God, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, doll.” 
    Thinking back on their romantic interlude now, Popsy was certain there was nothing to worry about in the romance department, so what in the heck was Jack talking about? Why did she need to watch her back if her husband was still so happy pinning it into the ground?

 
    Chapter 7 
    Sandra’s Surprise
     
    Sandra Hoffman’s life was similar to her best friend Popsy’s in so many ways. Both women had charmed lives. Their days consisted of shopping for new clothes and accessories, maintaining their highly polished style, and running the oh-so-smooth lives of their husbands.
        Of course Popsy had the children who—although grown up, and in theory, on their own at this stage—still took up quite a bit of her time. Of this, perhaps Sandra was a little jealous. She tried not to be, but it was so darn difficult.
    Popsy and Sandra sometimes met in the gym and after that they might go for lunch together or to a charity do. They often went into town to see what was new in the shops, but all too often, Popsy was rushing off to meet a daughter or spend time with her exquisite granddaughter.
    Sandra longed for a little of that family life. A long time ago she’d tried to forge links with Jack’s children from his first marriage. He had three beautiful daughters, but the girls had a strong loyalty to their mother. Their home was