Intimate Page 10

  In this suspended moment, every fibre of her was tensed with pent-up wanting. Flares of ticklish passion throbbed under her clothes, clamouring for a release which would not be long in coming.

  And that was the secret of the pleasure that taunted and excited her as she stood barefoot on the soft carpet. She felt as though there was a subtle nudity in the room itself, a mysterious nakedness to all the surfaces, the soft sounds, the quiet corners surrounding her. She could feel the taut, vibrant expanse of her own skin, breathing this charged air, and each current that touched the downy flesh of her arms, her legs, her cheek, was itself a knowing caress.

  He was coming closer now. With a sort of wild attention she stood with her eyes closed, contemplating this last split second before he would touch her. An inner tremor told her she could not bear it longer.

  As though he had read her thoughts, Marsh stood silent before her. His lips were the first part of him to touch her, and for a long moment they stood that way, an intimate, warm kiss their only contact. Although the very soul within her strained so urgently outward that she could barely keep from throwing herself at him with shameless abandon, Anna managed to remain somehow in that throbbing immobility.

  Time seemed to hesitate, to wait upon itself and speed up with little jarring thrusts. Now, at last, the surface of his strong, unclothed body grazed her gently, and his hands slid over the fabrics that covered her. For a moment he caressed her hips, her arms, as though his touch were amused, titillated by the clothes that separated him from her. But already his fingertips had reached recesses, slender curves, that quickened so tempestuously under their passage that he knew he must free her now from her coverings.

  With subtle expertise the gentle touch of his hands loosened her jeans, her blouse, passed languidly over her back and left her bra hanging undone on her shoulders. Bit by bit, curve by curve, her flesh opened itself to the air under his caress, her increasing nudity seeming a mobile, musical thing which drove them both to a tumult of silent wanting in the darkness.

  As hard as she tried to concentrate on this teasing rhythm that stripped her slowly, the haze of desire in which she bathed was too bewitching to penetrate, and she came to herself already naked, her soft skin feeling the hardness of his body against her. The mystery of his man's flesh, so muscular, so incisive, and yet all softened into a sweet gentleness that moulded itself to her own soft curves, hypnotised her. And as waves of response flicked across her breasts, her thighs, her shoulders, at each contact with his warm, magnetic flesh, she felt herself go to him, press against him with a thousand little shudders. In its wild independence, her body moved with him and spoke to him in a language all its own.

  As he bore her easily to the bed, placing her on the soft comforter so gently that she felt almost weightless in his arms, it seemed there was no limit to the terrible intimacy with which he overwhelmed her senses. The profound inner tingle that quickened at the very sight of him, and erupted into waves of passion as his lips and hands drove her to ecstatic heights, was at the heart of her woman's body.

  She knew she could keep no secret from the man behind the body that covered her now, in this dark room charged with pleasure. Underneath her visible personality, he knew how to make her talk, through her sighs, the responses of her limbs, in the language that he understood. Such was the penetrating power of her intimacy with him, this sensual delight that fed itself on her love for him. He was already rooted so deeply inside her that he must immediately sense every corner of doubt, of fear, of pain that might separate her from him.

  And now, as a greater urgency came over their movements, melding them in an enormous, heated embrace, Anna forgot her cautious thoughts and gave herself to him utterly. Last night she had tasted the heady joy of making love to Marsh for the first time; today she knew the full meaning of belonging to him.

  At last she lay quietly in his embrace, calmed and soothed by the weight of the hand resting on her breast, her little gasping breaths giving way to a slow, regular respiration as she rested her head on his shoulder. It was no wonder, she thought, that sensual intimacy was called a knowing of a person. Marsh knew her now, for he had stolen into her very heart, had felt her love fill up her whole personality in response to him. And she could trust him never to abuse the power that knowledge gave him.

  Recalling his tactful questions about her misfortune at N.T.E.L., she looked forward to the day when she would tell him the whole truth. It would be wonderful to unburden herself with total trust in this sharply introspective man. But all that mattered now was the wonderful security of being with him, knowing that she was no longer alone, that she would never be alone again.

  'Penny for your thoughts,' he whispered.

  A great exultation suddenly took possession of her, and she squirmed to her knees beside him, her lips close to his own.

  'I love you,' she smiled. 'Now give me my penny.'

  His kiss was her reward.

  In his own way, Marsh must have sensed the mysterious message of utter trust and commitment carried by the deep passion of their lovemaking, for in the days that followed his demeanour reflected a quiet joy in Anna's company. Few words were spoken between them. Somehow the touch of their hands and the glances they exchanged seemed to say all that was required. The meaning of their relationship was clear to both, and their every gesture was a promise to depend on each other and to make whatever sacrifices might become necessary to insure the success of their marriage. Over and over again, they plighted their troth through the affection in their words, their smiles, and the utter closeness of their lovemaking.

  The four days at Crystal Lake passed as though in a sunlit dream. Like a steadfast partner in their happiness, the Indian summer warmth persisted throughout their stay. Everywhere they walked, trees aflame with colour stood stately against the clear blue sky, their leaves fluttering gently, as though conversing with the breeze that caressed them. The lake's limpid water was like a magic mirror reflecting not only the rocks of its bottom, but also the brilliant hues of the foliage on its shores. Everywhere their walks took them, a deep autumnal pungency greeted them, serving as a poetic backdrop to their own feelings. It was a change of season, a natural ferment of the woods' life which seemed to celebrate the change that had brought them together.

  The long drive back to Chicago was not filled with excited conversation, as had been the trip to Crystal Lake. Instead, as the north woods gave way to rolling farmland, and finally to the flat vistas of Illinois, a silence made of pure fulfilment and understanding lay between them, punctuated now and then by a happy remark, a laugh, a caress.

  Marsh's apartment, located in a skyscraper that towered above the Loop, was all that Anna might have expected. Its tasteful decor, highlighted by functional modern furniture, glass surfaces, and clear white walls, reflected his solid masculinity and his impatience with frills of any kind. He threw open the curtains to reveal a dazzling vista which included the river, the Marina Towers, the Wrigley Building.

  'Marsh, it's wonderful!' Anna exclaimed.

  'Think you can stand it here?'

  'I'd go anywhere with you,' she smiled.

  With a look of amused concentration, he showed her all the rooms, pausing at the large closet in the bedroom.

  'Think you can get all your clothes in there?' he asked with a critical frown.

  'Certainly,' she said. 'I don't have that many. My salary has never allowed a lot of buying.'

  'That will change now,' he smiled. 'I want you to have a wardrobe that suits your every mood. As long,' he added, hugging her, 'as you don't mind taking those clothes off once in a while.'

  It was agreed that Anna would take a cab to her apartment tomorrow to pick up her clothes and a few personal effects. Marsh would have a full day of work, but promised to be home early. In the days to come Anna would see to clearing out her apartment and finding room for everything in her new home. After a good long rest, she would decide whether to look for work.

  'The honeymo
on isn't over yet,' smiled Marsh. 'We're going to enjoy ourselves. And there's no time,' he added, trapping her suddenly in his powerful arms, 'like the present.'

  'Well, how's the newlywed?' asked Marsh's secretary as he entered the office the next morning.

  'Never better, Mary. Did you all manage to survive without me?'

  'In a manner of speaking,' she sighed.

  'Where's John?'

  'He's with Harold and a couple of lawyers. They want you to meet them for lunch. It's about a murder.'

  'Murder?' Marsh feigned surprise. 'In this town? I don't believe it.'

  'Your mail is waiting,' she added as he pushed open the door of his office.

  After opening the window to let in some fresh air, Marsh stood over his desk, sorting through envelopes and manila folders and doing his best to recall the state of his case load before he left for Wisconsin. There was work to be done, and he would have to have a talk with his partners about pending cases.

  'What's this?' he wondered absently, opening a letter bearing the N.T.E.L. logo. 'Oh, yes,' he smiled. In his concern about Anna's difficulties in finding a job, he had had Mary write N.T.E.L. for her personnel file, on the pretext that she was applying for work with his firm. In the excitement of his marriage and honeymoon he had forgotten all about the request. Now he recalled his curiosity as to whether the company had somehow mistreated Anna, and he felt the furtive thrill of the eavesdropper as he prepared to see what her bosses thought of her.

  His face became serious as he tossed the secretary's covering letter aside and began to read the computer's file. After a moment he sat down at his desk, reading and then re-reading the words before him.

  'I don't believe it,' he murmured, glancing about the room before perusing the file for a third time. Finally he put the letter down and stood up to pace the office.

  It was simply too much to take in all at once. Anna, a thief ? A security risk… And the other part, the part about offering herself sexually in exchange for leniency. It couldn't be! That couldn't be Anna Halpern, Anna Hamilton they were talking about. It was unbelievable.

  God knows, he thought, she did seem terribly upset last week and the week before. It was obvious there was some kind of trouble. And no wonder she wasn't getting anywhere in the job market, with this thing in her personnel file. But an accusation of such enormity! What in hell had she done to deserve this? There must be some sort of mistake. They must have mixed her up with somebody else.

  Quickly he turned back to the desk and read the damning document once more. No, there was no mistake. It was Anna, all right. They had all her numbers, her job record.

  Marsh stared out the window in perplexity. 'Well,' he thought, 'I can understand why she didn't want to talk about this.' In retrospect, it was clear she must have had some inkling of what was going on. Otherwise, why the air of desperation, of depression, of pained reticence about her termination? But why hadn't she told him about it? What was she hiding? If she was innocent, there must be some explanation for this unbelievable smear. If she was innocent…

  Remembering his lawyer's instincts, he tried to imagine the circumstances that could have led to such a thing. But nothing made sense. If it were all some kind of crazy frame-up, then why hadn't they prosecuted her? So much malice breathed through the lines of that text that it seemed inconceivable they wouldn't have had her arrested. Unless they had their doubts…

  But the accusation was so unequivocal, so overwhelming. Who would make up a thing like that? Suppose she was guilty, even if the idea strained credulity. Why would she do it? Fear? Blackmail? What about the people who put her up to it? Perhaps they weren't satisfied, when she failed. Perhaps that was who was on the phone that night, when Anna suddenly became so upset.

  What had she said? 'That's out of the question.' And then: 'Where?' Such secretive talk. She couldn't have been so upset about the simple difficulty of finding another job. She had to know what was going on.

  So she was desperate, for whatever reason. She had nowhere to turn. Knew she wouldn't find another job, knew that that thing was in her file. Or feared that it was. And she had her sister to worry about…

  'So what did she do?' he thought, sitting down heavily to blunt the realisation. 'She married me.

  'That's why she agreed so abruptly. It was the day after that enigmatic phone call. I didn't seriously expect her to agree without a lot of thought, a long delay. I concluded it was love that was motivating her. Perhaps it was desperation.'

  He struggled confusedly to adjust his own mental image of Anna to the picture painted by the personnel file. Anna was the essence of honesty, self-respect, pride. The file described someone who undertook illegal behaviour for the benefit of an unidentified conspirator. For money? Or political reasons? Or both… And the offer of sexual favours seemed to indicate either an utterly loathesome personality or, perhaps, some sort of blind commitment to a cause. But none of this made sense when ascribed to Anna.

  With a sinking feeling he suddenly imagined her using him, marrying him through some ulterior motive. It was too fantastic to believe, but it hurt.

  'Well, I'll just have to get it out of her,' he thought. It had been one thing to respect her privacy when all he knew was that she was having trouble finding a job. It was quite another to keep silent about so outrageous a discovery.

  She would probably have an explanation. There was no sense in getting angry until he had heard her out. But in spite of his resolution to be reasonable, he felt a dark anger in his heart. Whatever the explanation, she had presumed to marry him without ever having confided in him about so grave a matter. She had simply assumed that he was not worthy of her trust.

  But surely, if she was innocent, she would have spoken up! As he stood alone in his office, Marsh found it more and more difficult to believe Anna could be blameless, even though the deeds ascribed to her seemed out of character. She must have done something, something blameworthy, to get herself into this mess.

  Her image was receding from his mind's eye, becoming less and less familiar, more alien and disconcerting, as he thought over the revelations in the file. He found himself wondering in consternation at his own haste in marrying this woman he knew so little. Perhaps she was motivated by things she had kept from him. Who knew? Perhaps there were parts of her life, her character, that he knew nothing about.

  'I want you and need you,' he had insisted in his innocence as he proposed to her. 'I don't need to know any more.' How hollow those words rang now!

  He recalled his unspoken speculations about the men in Anna's life. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, clearly not the type to lead a life without involvements with the opposite sex. There must be a man in this plot somewhere. A contact, a boss— something.

  Now he remembered his visceral impression that the person on the phone that night, whose words had elicited such terse replies from Anna, was a man. 'Where?' she had asked, turning her back to Marsh as she spoke into the phone.

  The torments of jealousy began to add themselves to his already painful thoughts. He imagined Anna engaged in behaviour he had never dreamed possible. He imagined her attempt to seduce the boss who had confronted her with the evidence against her. The idea of her offer, her proposition, the expression she must have had on her face, as seductive as possible… It was intolerable.

  'No,' he said aloud, shaking off his suspicions. 'She'll have an explanation. There's no sense in jumping to conclusions. But, by God, she'll tell me what the hell is going on, or I'll…'

  Suddenly the most disturbing thought of all struck him. There was Sally. Suppose, for the sake of argument, that Anna did what she did for money. God knew she needed it for Sally's education, since their parents' deaths had left them without a nickel. Suppose she failed to accomplish her mission and was not paid by whoever put her up to it. Then, having lost her job, she would have been desperate. She would not have known where to turn for money.

  He recalled his own cajoling efforts to persuade her to mar
ry him. 'We'll help Sally finish college,' he had said. 'Money will be no problem.' Obviously Anna had taken him at his word.

  And only last night he had insisted on taking care of Sally's pending tuition payments immediately, so that his new wife's lingering financial worries could be dissipated without further ado. He had laughed off Anna's protesting complaints about her own insolvency, belittling the very idea of money and its attendant woes.

  'If you want to pay me back,' he had grinned, 'just step right over here.' The delightful, soft kiss she had placed on his lips had seemed an almost disproportionate payment for so insubstantial an amount.

  But it could not have seem insubstantial to her, in her desperate need.

  'What a sucker I've been,' he thought. 'No Surprises Hamilton! Well, I've had the surprise of my life this time.' As a successful lawyer who was more than vulnerable to Anna's charms, he had appeared on the scene just in time to serve as her escape from the predicament she found herself in. How fortunate for her that he was walking down that N.T.E.L. corridor at the propitious moment! And within two weeks she had become his wife…

  The two images of Anna began to cease contradicting each other. Now he could picture an Anna who stooped to illegal and perhaps despicable actions out of desperate loyalty to her sister. Including marrying a man she had just met—a man who was obviously hellbent on marrying her as soon as possible.

  'Come on,' he upbraided himself, 'take it easy. Get control of yourself. There's an answer to all this, and you'll find it.'

  But the tormenting thoughts that assailed him would not cease their cacophony inside his mind. Angry with himself, with Anna, and with this whole mess which had suddenly thrown his life into chaos, he slammed the desk drawer on the file and left the office.

  CHAPTER SEVEN