“I don’t suppose he is, but I’m not taking any chances. Now please go downstairs.”
He got up and went over to her, putting his arms round her.
“Kiss me, Janey.”
She hesitated, then lifted her face to his. He crushed his mouth down on hers, and for a long moment he held her like that, his body hard against hers, his arms tight in the small of her back.
She tried to resist him, but he held her easily, and slowly he felt the resistance go out of her.
“Oh, Louis…” she sighed, leaning against him.
He manoeuvred her over to the bed, and she shook her head, but the resistance had gone completely out of her. She lay flat on her back, looking up at him, her eyes cloudy, her face flushed. “We shouldn’t…”
“Where is he, Janey?” he asked, bending over her.
“Where is who?” she asked, frowning.
“Your husband. Where is he?”