Lacybourne Manor(184)

“Is Mags cooking?”

She knew exactly to what he was referring and her body started to shake with silent laugher.

“Yes, but I’ve made ones especially for you and they contain meat.”

His kiss of greeting was heavily weighted with relief.

They had a relatively peaceful weekend.

This was, of course, if one didn’t count Sibyl’s extraordinary tirade when he’d had the MG towed back to Brightrose and presented her with an Aston Martin. This she categorically refused to accept and a reluctant compromise was only reached when his mother suggested Colin take the Aston and Sibyl use the BMW. The Mercedes was offered on the Alter of Environmental Correctness and this last he agreed to but carefully made no promise as he had no intention of getting rid of his car mainly because he liked the Mercedes.

Tuesday night, Sibyl was tucked against his side while Colin was staring at the ceiling and contemplating the unacceptable lack of progress his investigation team was making in finding Tamara Adams.

She was a socialite, not a super sleuth. How she could be evading a ten-man team was beyond him and Colin wanted answers and results.

As the days went by, Sibyl seemed to be settling in quite contentedly at Lacybourne, almost as if she’d forgotten someone wanted to harm them. She went about her busy schedule, radiating happiness and warmth with unflagging energy.

Even though Colin was pleased that she obviously trusted him and was happily getting on with her life, especially as that life included him, he was becoming more and more impatient. He wanted this business complete so he and Sibyl could move on. He wanted to come home to her (and even her many and varied escapades) every night, his ring on her finger and her carrying his name and he wanted all of this without death threats hanging over their heads.

“Do you think we have too much sex?” Sibyl asked musingly, interrupting his unhappy reverie with her mystifying question.

“What?” he asked, thrown.

She came up on her elbow and leaned over him.

“We have a lot of sex. Of course, it’s normal to have a lot of sex when you start a relationship but we have a lot, a lot.”

He couldn’t answer her, his unhappy thoughts shifted to even unhappier thoughts, including the fact that she’d had lots of sex at the start of relationships with other men.

Furthermore, she was right. He had a very healthy sexual appetite but he’d never been as hungry for a woman, carrying a constant, overwhelming desire, as he was for her. He found himself wanting her more even when he was embedded inside her. She was an obsession, even an addiction.

Upon brief consideration, he found this didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“I think it’s the curse,” she continued, either ignoring or not noticing his lack of response. “Royce and Beatrice didn’t… um, get any and so we’re making up for it.”

“I don’t care why I want you, I just know I do, there’s no purpose in evaluating it,” Colin replied.

“Yes, but don’t you think it’s weird?” Sibyl pressed.

“I hardly think it’s ‘weird’ for any man to have an irrational craving for you, you’re quite simply the most desirable woman I’ve known.”

Her mouth dropped open then, to his surprise, she clamped it shut on a disbelieving, very unladylike, snort.

“Sibyl,” he remonstrated softly, “it doesn’t suit you to fish for compliments.”

“Fish for…!” She started then burst out laughing and he felt its beauty seep into his bones. When she was done, she laid her hand on his cheek and smiled at him. “Colin, you like me, we’re good together.” Her smile deepened. “Of course you think I’m desirable but that doesn’t mean every man does.” She carried on, as if he hadn’t even spoken, “Personally, I still think it’s the curse.”

He stared at her assessingly and realised she didn’t comprehend her incredible allure.

“You aren’t to be believed,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?” She tilted her head, the smile still tugging at her lips.

He pulled her weight on top of his body and his arms stole around her.

Then he studied her beautiful face for long moments.

Then he muttered, “Christ, you have no idea,” and something about that knowledge awed him.