A Suitable Vengeance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,2

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Right to mama, Tina thought with an inward smile. Some things in life are absolutely meant to be.

By the time her companion nosed the Triumph into a parking space in Soho Square, Sidney St. James could see for herself how finely strung his nerves had become. His whole body was taut. Even his hands gripped the steering wheel with a telling control which was inches short of snapping altogether.

He was trying to hide it from her, however. Admitting need would be a step towards admitting addiction. And he wasn't addicted. Not Justin Brooke, scientist, bon vivant, director of projects, writer of proposals, recipient of awards.

"You've left the lights on," Sidney said to him stonily.

He didn't respond. "I said the lights, Justin."

He switched them off. Sidney sensed - rather than saw - him turn in her direction, and a moment later she felt his fingers on her cheek. She wanted to move away as they slid down her neck to trace the small swell of her breasts. But instead she felt her body's quick response to his touch, readying itself for him as if it were a creature beyond her control.

Then a slight tremor in his hand, child of anxiety, told her that his caress was spurious, an instant's placation of her feelings prior to making his nasty little purchase. She pushed him away.

"Sid." Justin managed a respectable degree of sensual provocation, but Sidney knew that his mind and body were taken up with the ill-lit alleyway at the south end of the squa He would want to be careful to hide that from her. Even nc he leaned towards her as if to demonstrate that foremost his life at the moment was not his need for the drug but b desire to have her. She steeled herself to his touch.

His lips, then his tongue moved on her neck and shou ders. His hand cupped her breast.

His thumb brushed her nif pie in deliberate strokes. His voice murmured her name. He turned her to him. And as always, it was like fire, like loss like a searing abdication of all common sense. Sidney wantec his kiss. Her mouth opened to receive it.

He groaned and pressed closer to her, touching her, kissing her. She snaked her hand up his thigh to caress him in turn. And then she knew.

It was an abrupt descent to reality. She pushed herself away, glaring at him in the dim light from the streetlamps.

"That's wonderful, Justin. Or did you think I wouldn't notice?"

He looked away. Her wrath increased.

"Just go buy your bloody dope. That's why we've come, isn't it? Or was I supposed to think it was for something else?"

"You want me to go to this party, don't you?" Justin ' demanded.

It was an age-old attempt to shift blame and responsibility, but this time Sidney refused to play along. "Don't you hit me with that. I can go alone."

"Then why don't you? Why did you phone me, Sid? Or wasn't that you on the line this afternoon, honey-tongued and hot to get yourself laid at the evening's end?"

She let his words hang there, knowing they were true. \ Time after time, when she swore she'd had enough of him, she went back for more, hating him, despising herself, yet returning all the same. It was as if she had no will that was not tied to his.

And for God's sake, what was he? Not warm. Not handsome.

Not easy to know. Not anything she once dreamed she'd be taking into her bed. He was merely an interesting face on which every single feature seemed to argue with all the others dominate the bony skull beneath it. He was dark, olive skin. He was hooded eyes.

He was a thin scar running along ile line of his jaw. He was nothing, nothing . . . except a tiJay of looking at her, of touching her, of making her thin body sensual and beautiful and flaming with life. if She felt defeated. The air in the car seemed stiflingly hot.

"Sometimes I think of telling them," she said. "They say that's the only way to cure it, you know."

What the hell are you talking about?" She saw his fingers curl. "Important people in the user's life find out. His family, is employers. So he bottoms out. Then he - " Justin's hand flashed, caught her wrist, twisted her hand. Don't even think of telling anyone. Don't even think of it. swear if you do, Sid ... if you do . . ."

"Stop