Free Deception and Desire by Janet Tanner Page A

thought. Maggie … listen to me. I like women, yes. I like Melina. But you are my wife. One day we will be the ones to carry on the traditions. We will be the family to our children and our children’s children.’
    The change in his tone, the sudden realisation that yes, she did believe him, and most of all, the reference to the children he was still hoping she would give him in spite of all the disappointments and the slowly growing despair, made Maggie suddenly weak. Tears sprang to her eyes and she turned away.
    â€˜It upsets you?’ he said more gently. ‘You hate the idea of the family so much?’
    She shook her head. ‘No, of course not. Ari … are you honestly not having an affair with Melina?’
    â€˜I told you. How many times must I say it?’
    â€˜I don’t know … I really thought …’
    He came up behind her, putting his arms around her. She thought she caught a whiff of that perfume she had come to associate with Melina, strong and sexy, smelling of musk, and tried to ignore it.
    She loved Ari. She wanted to believe him. She had to believe him. Particularly if she was going away.
    â€˜Come to bed,’ Ari said in her ear, and her stomach twisted. It was always like this, in spite of all the frustration and despair, in spite of the rows that flared and died as suddenly as a summer storm; in the end he still had this animal magnetism for her. She would cross the world for him – she had! – and she would do so again. Her legs felt weak, her body, sensitised by all the emotional upheaval, responded urgently, almost treacherously quickly, to his touch.
    She turned to him, feeling the cool cotton of his shirt against her bare skin as he eased the silk wrap from her shoulders, letting him part her lips with his mouth, arching her body so that her hips and thighs moulded to his. For a little while, as she let him guide her into the bedroom, peeling off her swimsuit and easing her back on to the big old bed, the anxieties and despair of the last hours became unimportant. She gave herself up to his lovemaking with a fervour heightened by the recent trauma of their differences. But afterwards, when it was over, the first thing she saw was her suitcase, half packed, on the old fashioned carved wood chest at the foot of the bed, and her dresses hanging on the outside of the wardrobe waiting to be folded, and reality began to creep in once more.
    â€˜Ari – I do still want to go to England,’ she said, half afraid.
    She felt him stiffen slightly but he only said: ‘Yes, yes, I suppose it’s a long time since you went home.’
    â€˜It’s not just that. I wouldn’t go off at such short notice if it was just a holiday. You know that. I have to find out what has happened to Ros – make sure she is all right.’
    â€˜Surely it is up to your English police force to do that?’
    â€˜But I’m her sister. We can almost get inside one another’s minds. Please try to understand, Ari.’
    He did not answer and she went on: ‘And when I come back, let’s try to make a fresh start. Remember how wonderful it used to be? It could be like that again, I know it could, if we both really tried.’
    They had fallen asleep in one another’s arms and Maggie had woken in the night from a good dream to nestle against him again, her body warmed through with twin senses of relief and purpose.
    But in the morning he had already risen when she came drifting out of the layers of sweet refreshing sleep, and when she joined him on the patio where he was eating his usual breakfast of muesli, fruit and thick creamy yoghurt, she knew immediately that he had gone away from her again.
    â€˜There’s nothing I can say, I suppose, to stop you going to England?’ he’ said, stirring sugar into his thick, aromatic black coffee.
    You could say you love me and want me here, she thought. You could promise me that you