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The Wrong Mirror(22)
Author: Emma Darcy

How could she have made the highly abandoned response she had made? It was so wanton, with a man who had forced his will on her. Resentment curdled the pleasure he had given her. Her soul cried out for some revenge for the ravaging of her sensibilities.

'If you're quite satisfied, I'd like to get up and go to David,' she said coldly.

His eyes opened and shot her a look of incredulity before anger wiped it out. He let her go, his body moving so abruptly from hers that Karen felt strangely bereft. He stood up, tall, masculine and menacing as he towered over her. Rage suffused his face and she could see the effort he had to make not to attack her physically. His hands clenched and unclenched as he fought for control. His eyes were like diamond needles, cutting into her flesh. Fear clutched at Karen's heart. She regretted the rejection she had just slapped in his face. They were married, she had to live with him. She should have accepted the fact that she could respond to him with relief.

Hal's hand reached out and lightly fanned her breast, making her nipple tingle to an erect excitement. His fingers feathered over her stomach and down one thigh. Her sensitised skin shivered with pleasure, but she shrank from his touch, still
ashamed that he could so easily arouse a response from her.

'Don't think you can deny either yourself or me, Karen. It won't work--not until you're pregnant, anyway. Then I might be satisfied.'

He turned his back on her and strode into the dressing room, re-emerging a few minutes later in dark blue corduroy slacks and a red. sweater. He walked straight through the bedroom without even glancing at her and closed the door after him with a decisive click.

Karen had pulled the quilt around her, but Hal's words had chilled her to the bone and she felt too frozen to move. Was that his revenge? To get her pregnant so that he would have the full experience of fathering a child? Had he only taken her for that reason?

She shuddered and hugged the quilt more closely around her. It couldn't be just that, she reasoned unhappily. He had kissed her with passion, taken her with passion. He had wanted her--whether because she looked like Kirsty or not, she didn't know, but he had wanted her. And she had wanted him, she admitted to herself in sick misery. There was something about Hal which answered some deep need in her. Against all reason it was there, and she could not deny it.

She wished she had held her tongue and waited for him to say something. She remembered the look in his eyes just before he had taken her. Maybe it had been a need for love too. Had he felt the same strange fulfilment in their union? Had she ruined any chance they migpt have had of reaching out to each'other in any but a physical sense?

It was getting dark. She had to move; David would be wondering where she was. Or would he? David had Hal now. A wave of lonely desolation drove Karen from the bed. She found an ensuite bathroom off the dressing room and had a quick shower, feeling too self-conscious of her body to stay under the hot spray for very long. She dressed in her comfortable stretch jeans and a brightly patterned sloppy joe, then unpacked her suitcases, moving quickly to put everything away before facing up to Hal again. Somehow it made her feel more positive. This was her home now.

She found David and Hal in the kitchen, which was superbly designed with every modern aid to cooking. Hal was beating eggs and David gleefully informed her that Daddy was making an omelette for his tea. On the surface the next hour and a half passed very pleasantly, with David unaware of the underlying tension between his parnts. He went to bed in a mood of happy contentment which Karen privately envied.

Hal was good with his son, indulgent until firm authority was needed and then making that authority felt without even raising his voice. Karen wondered if he could be as good a husband as he was a father. As he was a lover, a traitorous little voice added.

There were steaks in the refrigerator, and Karen cooked them for dinner while Hal mixed a salad. Neither of them spoke except to ask about preferences in the food they were preparing. Hal opened a bottle of wine, and they sat at the table in the breakfast room, both automatically shunning the more romantic setting of the formal dining room.

Hating the prickly silence which had grown between them, Karen asked Hal what work he would be doing from now on. He replied at length, prompted by more questions from her. She could almost pretend it was a normal conversation, but not quite. The gentle mockery in the grey eyes kept reminding her of all that was being left unsaid. The final silencer was the memory that Kirsty had shared Hal's work, in a way that Karen never could.

Tears stung Karen's eyes. It was hopeless to even think she could forge a successful relationship with Hal; Kirsty would always stand between them in one way or another. Karen quickly downed the last of her wine and stood up, stacking the plates in quick order. She carried them out to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher.

'It's been a long day. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to bed,' she threw at Hal, who had followed her.

'Go ahead,' he answered carelessly.

She virtually bolted up the stairs in her need to escape from him before she broke down entirely. She could feel herself snapping under all the tensions of the day, and she only just managed to get the bedroom door closed before the floodgates opened. She wept copious, bitter tears as she blindly undressed, pulled on a nightdress and crawled into bed. She curled herself into a self-protective ball and buried her face in a pillow, but she could not stifle the sobs that kept welling from the ache in her heart.

She did not see or hear Hal come in. The first she knew of his presence was the gentle, smoothing caress on her tangled hair. She jerked away and twisted around to fend him off, unable to bear his touch.

'I'm not Kirsty!' she cried, her emotions too tom to keep silent.

'No, you're not,' came the soft reply. He was sitting on the bed, but it was too dark for her to discern his expression. He stood up and pulled off his sweater.

'Can't you leave me alone?' she begged.

He stepped out of his trousers, and as he climbed into bed with her, Karen turned her back to him, frightened by the chaotic pumping of her heart. He did not attempt to pull her into an embrace. He stroked her hair and her back with a gentleness which utterly confused her. She lay very still, wanting to believe the tenderness in his soothing caresses and all too aware of the warmth emanating from his body, although it was only his hand which was touching her. Hal heaved a sigh and slowly curved his body around hers. His hand slid around her waist, while his mouth brushed over her hair.

'I can't say I'm sorry, Karen--I'm not. But don't think I'm comparing you to Kirsty in any way. There's no comparison.'

Tears flooded into her eyes again. 'You mean I could never match up to my sister.'

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