Unfaithful (35 page)

Chapter 4

"Darlings, it's so good to see you," Mark gathered his wife and son to him in a warm embrace and kissed them both on the cheek.

"Hi," Rebecca smiled weakly at her husband and quickly disentangled herself from his arms. He'd been a great support to her since Ethan was born and although he would always be the father of her children, she doubted she would ever be able to completely forgive him for how he had betrayed her. She loved escaping to their apartment in France. It was the only place where she felt she could be herself and that nobody else knew or cared about the sordid details of her husband's pathetic affairs. When she'd revealed his indiscretions the media had jumped on the story and their faces had been splashed all over the newspapers for days. It had been extremely embarrassing and humiliating but contrary to what she had imagined, their business had increased exponentially. Apparently, it was true; even bad publicity was good publicity!

Baby Ethan was born in January and was a happy, healthy
, bonny boy. She loved him dearly but she’d been crippled with post-natal depression since shortly after his birth. Brianna Moynihan, her psychologist, had advised her that her depression was probably a mixture of her pregnancy hormones returning to normal and a culmination of the horrendous stress and upset of her husband's affairs. Sometimes she wished she never had to see him again but she wanted to maintain a fairly amicable relationship for the sake of their children. He was a good father and she knew it was important for her sons to have him in their lives.

There were occasions when
it was difficult for her to maintain her distance emotionally from him, in spite of her best efforts. It wasn't easy to wipe out the strong feelings and heartfelt emotions that she'd had for him for more than twenty years of their marriage. He’d shown her amazing kindness, patience and compassion since Ethan's birth even though she’d completely turned his world upside down; deservedly, yes, but she didn't know how she would have survived the last few months without him by her side. It was difficult to reconcile the man who stood in front of her now with the cheating, lying man who had betrayed her so terribly.

"Hello, little man," Mark smiled at the bundle who was sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms. His shock of thick black hair was standing up in tufts on his perfectly formed head and his face was scrunched up in concentration as he slept. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered gently on his chubby
, rosy cheeks and his tiny hands clutched the ends of his blanket. Mark softly kissed his son's head and dropped his coat and bag on the sofa.

"How was your flight?" Rebecca asked politely.

"Madness, as usual," Mark sighed, loosening the tie which was tightly knotted at his strong neck. "Flying is a major pain these days, even short-haul flights. Bring back the days when only the privileged few could afford it."

"Don't be such a snob!
" Rebecca scolded him, but she couldn't help smiling at the same time.

"Oh, come on!" M
ark protested. "You’d agree with me if you'd been stuck behind the three French guys who'd clearly been on a bender all weekend. They absolutely stunk of alcohol and I swear they hadn't had a shower in days."

"Gross," Rebecca shuddered at the image. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yeah, I'd love a whiskey on ice, darling," Mark replied.

Rebecca winced. "Mark, please, I've asked you not to call me that."

"Sorry," he apologised quickly and Rebecca immediately wished she could retract her harsh words when she saw the crestfallen expression on his face.

"Actually, I'll fix my own drink, thanks anyway." He brushed
past her and went to the drinks’ cabinet where he poured some whiskey on ice and quickly downed it in one long gulp. "I needed that," he sighed, fixing himself another before walking out onto the balcony to survey the view below. Miles and miles of beautiful, golden, sandy beaches stretched out in front of him. Huge, expensive yachts bobbed up and down on the twinkling water and the promenade was a hive of activity. Tourists and tradespeople haggled over their wares and the atmosphere crackled with holiday excitement. Mark glanced over his shoulder and could see that Rebecca was busy with the baby, before furtively checking his mobile phone for any messages from Savannah. "
I'm here. I'll meet you at your hotel in two hours
." He quickly texted her and settled himself on a sun-lounger on the balcony to await her response. "
Room 238
." The response arrived within minutes and Mark began to tingle with excitement.

Chapter 5

"I'm going for a walk," Mark whispered, pulling the blanket gently over his wife who’d been napping on the couch. "Do you need anything from the shops?"

"I'm fine," Rebecca mumbled, struggling to sit up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I should get up. Ethan will be awake soon and he'll be hungry."

"I'll be back in a few hours. Call me if you need me."

"Okay," Rebecca smiled. She watched him as he walked out the door and waited for him to turn around to say goodbye, as he usually did, but this time he kept going. It seemed as if he couldn
't get out of there fast enough. "He's changed his tune," Rebecca muttered. He'd been ignoring her since her rebuttal earlier and now all of a sudden he was sweetness and light again. She didn't really know or particularly care what to think of him. He'd been very supportive since Ethan was born and while she was still recovering it was good to have him around but things would have to change as soon as she was back on her feet. She didn't trust him and it would be difficult to move on with her life until she'd put some distance between them, but for now she simply didn't have the strength. If it hadn't been for Mr. Middleton-Sinclair of the Renaissance Hotel Group insisting that he wanted more of Mark's work she would have cut her ties with him months ago, but the deal was much too lucrative to decline so she'd hired him on a freelance basis.

Of course, Mark
, being his typical sneaky, conniving self, had managed to weasel himself slowly but surely back into her life but not into her affections. She tolerated him only because she needed him. Mark had made it obvious that he would like them to get back together but Rebecca wasn't interested. She simply didn't have the will to fight him at the moment and she knew that it would be a bitter fight where Mark was concerned. The very thought of filing for divorce and the legalities which that would entail exhausted her and she dreaded a custody battle for baby Ethan. Mark wouldn't hesitate at fighting dirty to gain custody of his son and Rebecca knew he'd play on her depression. She glanced at her baby who was finally beginning to stir from his deep slumber and her heart filled with love for him. There was no way that she was going to lose her son to Mark. She had to focus on getting her energy and strength back so that she was ready to fight him all the way.

Mark walked briskly through the crowds of people who were strolling slowly along t
he promenade. It was a glorious, blue-sky day and he felt his spirits soar. He was glad to have left the incessant rain and cold of Ireland behind him for a while and was looking forward to spending a few days on the yacht.

"Bonjour, Monsie
ur McNamara," the street vendors waved cheerily to him as he passed them by. They knew him well as he was a frequent visitor to their shores. "Bonjour," Mark smiled pleasantly at them in return.

He couldn't wait to meet the mysterious Savannah and had to restrain himself from running all the way to her hotel. Hotel St. Jacques was a tall, looming building which was located at the end of the promenade. The vibrant restaurant at the front was already packed with tourists enjoying an
early evening drink. There wasn't an available spot outside at the tables and chairs which lined the boardwalk.

He swung into the hotel and strolled quickly past reception. The place was a hive of activity so it was unlikely that anyone would remember him. He climbed the stairs to the second floor, deciding to skip the elevator and its surveillance cameras. The corridor of the second floor was deserted as he made his way towards Room 238. He tapped lightly on the door and waited impatiently.

"Who is it?" a tentative voice asked from the other side of the closed door.

"Mark."

Slowly, the door opened and he followed Savannah into the room. She was a most unlikely looking assassin. He'd fantasised about her, expecting her to be tall and controlling, maybe a dominatrix type but his fantasy was the complete opposite of the delicate, petite woman who stood in front of him now. Her long, blonde hair tumbled luxuriously down her narrow back. Thick dark lashes and perfectly arched brows gently framed her luminous grey eyes. Her mouth quivered with emotion; every thought played out across her fragile face. Mark could see she was nervous and he longed to kiss her full lips in reassurance.

"We meet at last," he smiled, taking a seat on the co
uch in the corner. A large king-sized bed was the focal feature of the small room and stood invitingly between them.

"Indeed," Savannah returned his smile shyly. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, a whiskey with ice," Mark replied promptly.
No need to break the habit of the day
, he thought wryly.

He watched her closely as she moved around the room and fixed their drinks. She moved her hips provocatively as she walked which tantalised him even more. He tried to memorise every detail of her, knowing that this would be their one and only night together. It was a huge risk meeting like this and not one that he was prepared to take again, but tonight he would allow himself the indulgence. She was absolutely gorgeous, there was no doubt about it. The plain simplicity of her white linen dress accentuated the lush golden tan of her skin. Her full breasts strained slightly at the bodice and the shadow of the setting sun emphasised her legs, her slender waist and round buttocks. He could feel wanton lust overwhelming him and he wanted her badly. It had been months since he'd been with a woman and every nerve in his virile body was heightened just by looking at her.

"Cheers," she said, handing him a glass.

"Cheers." He clinked his glass against her champagne flute and savoured the coldness of the whiskey as it hit the back of his throat.

"My team is in place in Ireland," she said, slowly sipping her drink which moistened her full lips. "I think it's best that you don't know the details."

"I suppose I’ll have to trust you," Mark smiled
, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You can trust me
implicitly." She finished her drink and stood up. The air crackled with the sexual electricity between them. He wanted her and he wanted her now!

Slowly, she undressed for him, pulling her dress provocatively over her head and dropping it to the floor by her feet. She was naked beneath. He went to her then and lightly kissed her mouth; probing her with his tongue. She returned his kisses and he was surprised by the urgency of her response. It seemed she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He closed his eyes and lost himself in her embrace. He kissed her desperately, savouring the sweet taste of her. His lips traced the delicious journey from her inviting mouth to her elega
nt neck and hard, erect nipples. She moaned under his expert touch. He stroked her skin and kissed every part of her beautiful body while his hands caressed her full breasts and firm buttocks.

Tentatively, his tongue explored the recesses of her hot, wet centre. He sucked and licked and tasted her very essence, makin
g her moan in sheer ecstasy.

"Ple
ase," she whimpered. Her body writhed at his touch but he was enjoying teasing her and wanted to prolong her agony. He pulled her down on top of him and held her close, savouring the tantalising sensation of her body and skin on his. "Please," she begged. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulled her hands over her head and locked his fingers in hers, pinning her to the bed. Then he pushed himself between her inviting legs and slowly entered her soft warm centre. She moaned in pleasure at each sensual stroke. He kissed her forcefully as his rhythmic strokes became harder and more punishing. He drove himself harder and deeper inside her and she cried out in blissful agony. His kisses silenced her cries as she bucked beneath him. He loved
the way she tried to fight back, her sharp nails scratched his back and dug into his buttocks, driving him deeper and deeper into her. "I can't take it anymore!" she gasped, but he continued moving on top of her, wanting her to explode her hot juices all over him. He increased his rhythm, knowing that this would drive her to the brink.

"Yes!" she cried out.

He bit her neck and sucked her pink, erect nipples, riding her harder and faster, losing himself in his own building ecstasy. Finally, she exploded her hot wet juices all over him and he allowed himself to release his own pleasure.

They lay naked together on the bed, tangled in each other's arms. "Wow," Savannah breathed deeply, her heart pounding in her chest. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone. He wanted her again already but knew that he couldn't indulge himself.