Part 18 (1/2)
”About what?”
Sam backed Angela gently against a wall just inside the door, then moved back a step to rea.s.sure her. Keeping his distance for the moment. ”We never talk.”
”That would be because you divorced me.”
Sam shook his head. ”My father did that to us. You know that.”
”Yes, just the way he made you get into bed with that other woman.”
”That was terrible, Angie,” Sam admitted, sliding his forefinger beneath her chin and tilting her head back. ”I'm guilty as charged there. I was very immature back then. I wish I could take it all back.”
Angela looked away. ”I met Caroline.”
”Oh?”
”She greeted me at the front door.”
”You mean she actually opened the front door?” Sam asked sarcastically. ”She actually lifted a finger?”
”Yes. Why?”
He laughed. ”She must have been going past the door just as you rang the bell.”
”That's right. That's what she said.”
”Figures. Caroline certainly wouldn't go out of her way to do that-or anything else around here, for that matter.” Sam put a hand to his head. ”No, wait. I take that back. She might move quickly if it were toward the limousine and an afternoon of shopping.”
”She said she was going upstairs to get ready to go out with you tonight.”
Sam groaned. ”Don't remind me. We've got to go to some d.a.m.n museum opening to cut a ribbon. Then there will be the requisite party afterward and a night of all the same people and all the same conversations.”
”Don't sound so enthusiastic.”
”It'll be awful.” Sam sighed. ”But Caroline will be happy. And that's what's important,” he said nodding gravely, then breaking into a smile.
”Poor baby.” Angela patted his chest then made a move back toward the pool. ”I feel so bad for you. You lead such a difficult life.”
”Hey, why are you leaving?” he asked, snagging her wrist again.
”Because you need to start getting ready for your museum party.”
”I bet I could think of a more exciting way to spend the evening.”
Angela had seen that look on Sam's face many times. His eyes were aflame with l.u.s.t. ”I'm sure you could,” she said, surprising herself.
s.e.x with Sam had been incredible from the first time they'd been together. No initial period of awkwardness as they'd gotten to know each other, as there had been with her only other lover, a boy in college. No having to show Sam her special wants. He'd found them himself so effectively and efficiently she'd bitten his shoulder to keep from screaming. She'd left deep and purple marks, and he'd pointed at them proudly the next morning as proof that she'd experienced intense pleasure.
And it wasn't just the physical part of the act that had brought about such incredible pleasure. As Sam had slowly and tantalizingly investigated her body that first night, he had whispered to her, too, gently probing her mind as well. The college boy had been too inexperienced to understand the psychological component of her need, and turned selfish when satisfying her became too much of a ch.o.r.e. She'd accepted it by making him believe he was satisfying her when he wasn't. That had never been an issue with Sam. Not once had she ever had to fake anything with him.
Sam had made her feel as she was convinced she never could, even during their initial encounter. And it had only become better over time. He explored her fantasies and desires, coaxing her into telling him her most private thoughts. She'd become physically addicted to him, in so absolute a way that her body had actually ached for months after the divorce. Now she simply tried to ignore those urges. She hadn't been with anyone since the divorce, hadn't even been tempted because she was certain the experience would be so disappointing.
”What did you think of Caroline?” Sam asked, moving close.
”She seemed nice.”
”She isn't. She was being her usual plastic self, I can a.s.sure you. But that's not what I was talking about.”
”Oh?” Sam ran his finger up her forearm and the feeling raced through her body, the fire spreading even as she tried desperately to throw water on the flames. ”Whatwere you talking about?”
”What did you think of her physically?”
”She's attractive.”
”She's plain,” Sam said. ”Not like you.”
”Well, I-”
”You are so beautiful.” He bent down so they were on the same level, searching her expression. ”Those eyes of yours,” he said softly. ”They're like magnets to men.”
Angela looked down.
”Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.
”No.”
He put his finger back beneath her chin and lifted it again, forcing her to look at him this time. ”Are you telling me the truth?”
”Yes.”
”No woman has ever come close to you, Angie.”
She ought to hate him for what he had done, and on a rational level she did. But on a deeper plane she couldn't. ”Which is, of course, why you felt you needed to cheat on me.”
”I said I was sorry for that.”
”I don't care about sorry. Sorry doesn't help me.”
”You have your skeletons too.”
Angela's eyes flashed to his. ”You know none of that was true,” she said, tight-lipped. ”You know your father was responsible for all of that. I was never with either of those men.”
There was a long silence. ”Let's start seeing each other again,” Sam finally suggested.
”No. Not in a million years.”
”Why not?”
”For starters, let's try the fact that you're married. I don't do-”
”I don't mean in that way,” he interrupted.