It was the one thing he kept harking back to on the rare occasions they exchanged cross words. Or rather she voiced her concerns about how hard he drove himself – working all day and then spending hours in the attic doing Lord knew what.
Like a broken record, stuck in the same groove, he would apologise for neglecting her and promise to try harder. She couldn’t remember quite when he’d gone from being confident of her love, to questioning his worthiness. But she’d never done anything to give him reason to suspect her fidelity. Until today.
The question wasn’t whether she would go through with it, rather what would happen if she didn’t. It was doubly evil that the monster had picked her wedding anniversary for this secret liaison, and she couldn’t imagine it was anything but deliberate – making the stakes that much higher
Meeting him in a Travelodge was deliberately designed to make her feel grubby, but until she had secured certain assurances, she had no choice but to play along with his sleazy fantasy. As she knocked on the door, the wind tore at her headscarf, whipping it away.
Drat! It was her favourite, the very first Christmas present from Eric, and she’d worn it to feel his presence nearby.
She declined to make excuses. He should be grateful she turned up at all instead of doing what a smart person would have done and gone to the police. It had better be worth it.
“You’re here now, so let’s get started. Take off the coat.”
As she’d imagined, he thought he could bully her into submitting to his intimidation tactics. He’d learn. “No.”
A frown. “Sorry. I should re-phrase. You’ll want to take off your coat because it’s ridiculously warm and it’ll dry better. If I'd known you were going to walk, I’d have sent a car.”
What the heck? Not what she expected at all. And it was stifling. As he walked over to the desk, she took advantage of his turned back to remove her coat, hanging it on a hook.
“Red or white? I wasn’t sure so I have both.” He pulled a bottle of wine from an ice bucket and spun around, a polite smile hiding his reaction to her get up.
She’d gone for a long-sleeved, buttoned-up flannelette shirtwaister – what her mum called a proper passion killer.
“If you don’t want wine, I have water, juice or a nice cup of tea.”
If he wanted to surprise her, he was doing fine.
When she tried to reply, her voice cracked. “Red, please.”
“And perhaps a glass of water to clear your throat.”
Revising her opinion about the niceties, she accepted the water and sat in the chair he gestured, realising he’d paid for one of the executive rooms with more than just a bed.
The drinks sorted, he sat in the other chair, sipping his wine, his gaze appraising. “I suspect you have quite a different idea of how this meeting will run, however I wanted somewhere discreet in neutral territory.”
She sipped the wine, pleasantly surprised at the full-bodied, spicy tang.
His scrutiny suggested a need for her approval of his choice, and she nodded, setting the glass down and clasping her hands in her lap to stop them from fidgeting.
“I've been thinking about you a lot since that first meeting two decades ago. Despite my sister’s histrionics, I’m well aware that you and Eric did a far better job of bringing Lily up than she could ever hope to, and for that I thank you.”
‘You’re welcome’ didn’t seem appropriate, so she said nothing, wondering exactly what he wanted.
“I’m going to come to the point. I'm aware of Eric's talent as an inventor, and I want him to work for me. You must persuade him it would be in his best interests.”
Or what? Naomi knew she’d been right about the not-so-veiled threat in his invitation to meet. More fool her for thinking it was her body he wanted.
“Make no mistake, I will get what I want one way or another. Your instincts were spot on. It does include you.”
The strong wine made its presence felt, and she couldn’t prevent the small gasp from escaping.
To be continued ...
