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took Helen longer to get back to sleep, but he fell back into it without a
second's pause.
She woke up in the morning to see pale light trickling like water over the
walls. Paul stirred as if she had inadvertently woken him. She felt him move,
his breathing altering. His lips suddenly brushed her arm and then her
shoulder. She stiffened and he turned her to face him. His skin was still
flushed, but the overwhelming heat had lessened during the night. The
bright blue eyes smiled at her. 'I feel better,' he said.
'Good,' said Helen, poised to go. 'I'll get you some breakfast.'
'I don't want breakfast,' he said, and stared at her. His hand stroked down her
naked arm, trembling. 'Helen.'
She was poised on a knife edge, her flesh cringing from him, her mind
knowing she had to do it. Paul stared, waiting. 'Helen, please,' he muttered.
She took a painful breath and let her body relax against him. Her arms
slowly went round his neck and Paul gave a satisfied sigh, bending to kiss
her. His hands began to touch her, shaping her body, fondling it with the
sensual enjoyment he had always shown. He burrowed his face between her
breasts, groaning, 'You're so lovely. Don't be cold to me, Helen.'
Had it after all been mainly her fault? Had her rejection of his desire after he
strayed for the second time been what had turned their marriage into a
desert? If she had deliberately invited him, kept him too interested in her to
look at anyone else, would things have gone differently? Helen did not
know any more. She did not know anything. Sad, bewildered, she yielded
herself to his hands and felt his excitement growing as he knew she was not
going to reject him this time.
Helen fought down the instincts which struggled to stop him. She clamped
an iron hand over her own feelings and hid from him the physical resistance
she could not help. Holding his golden head between her hands, she kissed
his mouth with an affection she disguised as passion, and Paul moaned
softly with his eyes shut.
His trembling hands stroked her thighs. 'Love me, Helen,' he whispered
thickly, and she allowed him to part them, the sickness inside her forced
down.
A moment later Paul swore hoarsely and she looked at him in shock. 'I can't,'
he muttered, his teeth tight.
Helen's lips shook, as realisation hit her. She closed her eyes and Paul
thought the expression passing over her face was frustration. He kissed her
neck, holding her close. 'I'm sorry I'm sorry, Helen. Oh, hell, don't look
like that. Tomorrow, darling, when I'm better.'
She had control of her voice now. 'You're still ill,' she said huskily. 'We
should have had more sense. Of course you can't when you're running a
temperature like this don't worry, Paul.' She laughed with an effort. 'It's
only temporary.'
'God, I hope so,' he said sulkily.
She smiled teasingly at him, almost lightheaded now with relief. 'I'm sure
you do.'
His sullen face lightened. 'It would happen when you were saying yes for the
first time in years,' he said, grinning. 'Just my luck 1'
'Just mine,' Helen said with an irony he must not guess.
He laughed out loud, looking delighted. 'Did you want it badly? Poor darling
1' He kissed her neck again, whispering, 'Tomorrow, Helen.'
'Yes,' she said, stroking his smooth hair. After a moment she spoke brightly.
'I'll get you some breakfast. What would you like?'
He had a boiled egg and some tea and then the need for sleep came over him
again. Helen left him in the quiet room and went to ring Mark. 'Paul's ill.'
'What's wrong with him?' Mark sounded curt.
She told him and Mark said drily, 'Drunk, was he?'
She didn't answer that. 'I'm afraid neither of us will be coming in for a few
days.' She paused. 'I can't leave him alone.'
There was an odd silence as though Mark heard the unspoken rider, the grim
fact that she could never leave Paul, now or later. After a long moment Mark
said brusquely, 'Very well. Let me know when you can start again. I'll get a
temp.'
She went back to Paul later and he was awake again, irritable once more. As
the days went by his improving health often made him cross and difficult.
Helen bore with his moods as best as she could, grateful for the fact that Paul
seemed to have forgotten any desire to make love to her. He did not ask her
to sleep with him at night again, nor did he show any return of sensual
interest by kissing her or caressing her. It surprised her until she thought
about it and decided that Paul's male pride had been scarred by the fact that
he had been unable to follow through with his earlier attempt to make love to
her. He was, she suspected, waiting until he was sure he was physically back
on form before he tried again. Paul would not be able to stand failing twice.
He was well enough to get up and sit watching television within a week.
Helen decided she should go back to work now that he did not need constant
attention, but when she announced this to Paul he scowled at her and was
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