Free Man Without a Heart by Anne Hampson Page B

because of the friction that was growing between Adam and herself. If only his anger had stemmed from jealousy....
    Tears sprang to her eyes and she knuckled them away, then went to the bathroom to bathe her face. She decided to shower; it was all automatic, for her whole mind was occupied with her husband and his anger. What was he doing now? What was he thinking? Perhaps he regretted his marriage-but no, Jill was very sure that his mother's happiness was still of paramount importance to him, and undoubtedly his marriage had brought both happiness and contentment to what could prove to be the last months of her life.
    After the shower, she slipped between the cool white sheets, but within minutes she got up again. All was quiet, so she did not bother to put anything over her nightdress as she went down to find the book she had been reading earlier in the week. On her return to the bedroom she stopped abruptly just inside the door, her heart doing a somersault as she saw Adam standing there in a dressing gown, an expression on his face that set every nerve in her body alert with apprehension. Instinctively she pulled at the ribbon which circled the neckline of her nightdress, gathering it over the graceful curves of her breasts.
    She saw the sardonic twist of his lips at the action. He said in a very soft voice, 'Close the door, Jill, and come here.' She stood where she was, holding the book with a hand that trembled.
    'I told you to close that door.' His steely eyes narrowed, but still she made no move to obey. She stood framed in the open doorway, a slender figure in gossamer nylon and lace, nervous tension building up as she noticed the burning desire in his eyes.
    His intention was all too plain. He had previously asked her to consider a natural relationship for the period of their marriage; now he was determined to take the matter out of her hands, having his way whether she liked it or not. He was all Greek at this moment, a Greek with pagan instincts. 
    'Wh-what d-do you want?...' The question was phrased even while she was telling herself the answer, but she had to ask it nevertheless. She tried to add something to it in the nature of a protest, but her mouth was suddenly too dry for speech and she could only stare, his hypnotic gaze holding hers as his long, lean body came slowly and menacingly toward her.
    'You know what I want, Jill.' Soft the voice, but anger vibrated deep within it. He was not only ready to take her for his pleasure, he was ready to take her in anger.
    'Get out!' she managed, in choked accents, at last. 'This is my private bedroom and you've no right in it — ' she got no further; the book dropped from her nerveless fingers as his hand closed on her wrist.
    'Private!' he snarled, jerking her body and holding it close so that she felt the compelling pressure of his thighs against her, while at the same time he slammed the door closed with his foot. 'Private, did you say? We'll see about that!'
    'Leave me alone!' Jill began to st ruggle, forcing her small fists against the rock-hard wall of his chest. 'Have you no sense of honour?'
    'You're my wife,' he gritted, 'and I shall take what I'm entitled to!' Inexorable the tone; he seemed to have no compunction, no recall of the pact they had made when their marri age was first being discussed.
    'You're not entitled to anything!' She struggled in earnest, all her efforts concentrated on thwarting his intentions. But the powerful hands held her with infuriating ease, crushing her to him again in ruthless domination, and when his moist lips began their sensual travels along the petal-smooth curve of her throat, she quivered involuntarily and became aware of the first hints of desire spreading through her veins.
    'Let me go,' she pleaded with a little sob. 'Remember your promise.' His roving hands were like warm shock waves, quickening her own desires, and under their impact she was becoming more and more alive to the masculine attractiveness of him, the