‘Well, it’s because of that that I asked her! At least one person knowing is better than the whole country. The whole world. If only you’d given me more time, I’d have bought one by mail order. But you didn’t.’
‘Well, part of the fun of it for me was the thought of you having to put the thing on the counter and have it rung up at the till,’ said Jason. ‘You must have known that. I feel cheated now.’
‘Don’t. You had your fun, didn’t you, in the end?’
‘That’s not the point, Jen, and you know it. You lied to me.’
‘I didn’t. I just didn’t … tell the truth. A little tiny white lie of omission. You aren’t going to make a big deal out of it, surely?’
Jason stood up, slowly and deliberately, running a hand through paint-flecked hair.
‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘I understand why you did it, sure. But on the other hand, I don’t think I should let you get away with it.’
Jenna swallowed. Jason wasn’t angry – in fact, he seemed to be relishing this moral high ground. That could only mean one thing. And her bottom, tense at the thought, knew exactly what it was.
‘Jason …’
‘Should I?’ he pressed, with a dirty twinkle in his eye now. ‘Eh?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ she said, wondering how she always managed to sound like a sulky child when Jason started doing his dominant thing. It was as if he had a secret button he pushed that sent her straight back to her rebellious teenagerdom.
On the other hand, the inevitability of what was about to happen to her was exciting. It was exhilarating to have a boundary to push against, to see how far she could go before she was brought safely back into the shelter of her submission.
‘Why not, Jen?’ He held out a hand to pull her up.
She stood in his shadow and he placed a finger gently but firmly under her chin, keeping her face angled up to his.
She didn’t reply, waiting for his next words.
‘Because if I let you get away with this, what’s next? Sneaking about behind my back? Keeping secrets from me?’
‘No, I wouldn’t do that,’ she said, but a sudden recollection of what she had read in the Nottingham archive came back to stamp guilt all over her face.
‘Oh, wouldn’t you? So why didn’t you tell me this then?’
‘I just … didn’t think it mattered. Forgot.’
He held her eyes just long enough to let her know he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t hide her unease. She was a terrible liar.
‘OK, I thought you’d be disappointed,’ she admitted.
‘The truth at last,’ he said. ‘No point trying to be slippery with me, babe. I’ll always get your deepest secrets out of you. I can read your face like a painting.’
Damn his artistic literacy!
‘So you are then?’ she said. ‘Disappointed in me, I mean.’
He ran a thumb along her jawline, stroking it reflectively.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I suppose I am. You weren’t honest with me, and I don’t like that.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He bent his lips to her ear.
‘You’re going to be,’ he whispered.
When he straightened up, his broad and wicked smile filled the attic room.