Love's Prisoner

‘But after so much celibacy, to have a curvy young woman spreadeagled on top of me is most...invigorating,’ he drawled, and shifted his body against hers.

As she felt the thrust of him, a wave of heat engulfed her.

‘Let me go!’ she demanded, in a mixture of panic and fury.

A lazy smile tilted the corners of his mouth. ‘You aren’t inclined to indulge me?’

‘No, I am not!’

‘Spoilsport,’ said Piers, and released her.

Back on her feet, Suzy hastily fastened the buttons and tucked her shirt back into her skirt. Today her hair was worn loose, and she attempted to smooth down the tousled wheat-gold strands.

‘Aren’t you being a touch paranoid about my profile?’ she demanded, when her composure had been reassembled—well, some of it.

Piers rose from the sofa. ‘Paranoid?’ he repeated, his eyes glittering dangerously.

‘Suzy’s right,’ said Hugo, breezing back into the room with a handful of photographs. ‘You’re taking this business of being written up far too seriously. Even if you did possess some murky secret—’ he chuckled ‘—I’ve had enough experience of being interviewed to know when to be discreet.’

Piers frowned. ‘Yes, you’re good at discretion,’ he remarked. ‘For example, you’ve said nothing to me about the welcome-home party which you and Barbara are so busily arranging.’

His father’s jaw dropped. ‘You know about that?’

‘It’s the reason I’m here,’ said Piers. ‘While I’ve no wish to appear ungracious, I’ve come to suggest you cancel it, because I shan’t be present on the night.’

‘But Babs and I thought you’d enjoy hobnobbing with some of your chums again,’ Hugo protested, sounding so disappointed that Suzy’s heart shrivelled.

She eyed the two men. Granted, her presence had annoyed Piers, but, that apart, his manner towards his father was a little removed and very proper. And Hugo appeared...wary. He had said they had not met since Piers had left the clinic. Maybe it was only a couple of days, but in the circumstances... Suzy sighed. It seemed that the burying of differences which Hugo longed for, and which she had hoped for, had not come to pass.

All of a sudden, Piers noticed her inspection. He shot her a probing glance, then took a step towards his father.

‘Dad, I’m sorry,’ he said, his tone gentler and more apologetic, ‘but right now the prospect of spending an evening in a room full of people doesn’t turn me on.’

Hugo looked bewildered. ‘Why ever not?’

‘Because after being isolated for so long with just one person, I think I’d find it claustrophobic. And I wouldn’t want to put a dampener on everything by breaking out in a cold sweat and having to make a hurried exit midway.’

His father smiled. ‘I understand,’ he said.

Suzy frowned. If any other ex-hostage had made such a claim she would have believed them, but was Piers telling the truth? And if not, had he said what he did because he had felt ill at ease with Hugo’s dismay and needed to comfort him, or was it more a matter of making an excuse for her benefit? While she had told him about her family in what now seemed embarrassing detail, throughout their three-month affair Piers had rarely mentioned his father; yet when he did there had been no hint of bad feeling. He too obviously preferred to keep it hidden.