HOT SET: Playing with Fidelity (A romantic suspense novel) (3 page)

Norm went
slightly pink, which made his cheeks turn green. Not an attractive man to begin with, he now looked like toothless walrus.

He
spluttered, “having children is a great honour for a woman and I consider there to be no higher calling…”

“
Interesting that you think it’s an honour. Does your wife agree?”

Norm
pulled himself together. “Of course she does,” he patronisingly spat.

“
I highly doubt that.” She tapped her fingernail on her champagne flute.

“
You know, Norm, there is something that I find
fascinating
about men who think like you.” She stopped to see if he’d take the bait and took a sip from her glass.

The misogynist in him couldn’t help
it. “What?”

“
That you’re entirely dependent on your wife. That it’s her who really holds the power. Without her, you’d be stuffed.”

“
Dependent?” His voice squeaks when he gets mad, Kate noted. He continued, “I pay for the food...”

“
Yes, and she puts it on the table.” Kate was really starting to warm up. She didn’t know where she’d got the gall; this was totally out of character. Norm had been irking her for years and she was relishing telling him some home truths.

“
The thing is Norm, she’d be fine without you.” Kate pointed at his broad chest. “She’s raising seven children and is resilient and smart. It’s you who’d be lost without your wife. Can you cook? Clean? I bet she even does your ironing. If she left you, you’d have to find another woman to take her place. That makes you dependent on a woman; a mere woman. And that means she’s more powerful than you.”

He
mocked her, “absolute bull shit.”

“
And, Norm, if she knew just how strong, resourceful and intelligent she was, she wouldn’t let you push her around, would she? Can’t have her knowing that.”

“
Listen you troll...”

“
Does that make you feel better, Norm? Calling me names? How typical.” She stretched. “Anyway, I have work tomorrow so I’d best find Mark and tell him it’s time to leave.” Kate shifted slightly then spoke to Norm again, “Oh, and Norm. If you ever look down my top again, I’m going to have a hissy fit that’d make your ears bleed. Goodnight,” she finished sweetly. Kate turned on her heel and keeping her back straight, strolled across the room to Mark.

What she didn’t see was standing behind the plant, listening
to the conversation, was Patrice. She stepped into Norm’s line of sight and held a plate of prawns towards him looking triumphant. He knew she’d heard it.

“
So, Norman, you looked down her top, did you?”

“
Of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

“Stupid?
I was just thinking how resilient and intelligent I am.”

Norm took a menacing step closer, grabb
ed her elbow firmly and squeezed it. He hissed at her quietly through clenched teeth, “Patrice, you’re only here tonight for show. Now shut up or...”

Patrice slapped his hand away from her elbow and stepped away
.

“
Don’t touch me, Norm. You’re disgusting. In fact, don’t you ever touch me again.”

Kate reached the far wall before rationality descended menacingly.

What had come over her
? She was never that rude and immediately felt contrite. If only that man didn’t bait her so! She slowed down and was just about to turn back to apologise when Mark took her arm and lead her to the man he’d been speaking to.

“
Marco Luccio, may I present my wife, Katelyn Johnson.”

Kate smiled
, “Please, call me Kate.”

Marco spoke with perfect English with just
enough of an accent to make him sound romantic and exotic. “Kate, how lovely to meet you. Your husband has just been telling me of some of his projects and I understand you help him out occasionally?”

She
inwardly sighed.

“
Yes Mr Luccio, I do help him occasionally. Although you’re bound to find me more often at the set of the television series I act in.”

“
Actor? Well, Mark, you didn’t mention that. I have a well-known weakness for actresses and married two of them to prove it.”

Mark
emitted a strained laugh.

“
So Mrs Johnson, how long have you been an actress?”

“
I’ve been working on Pacific Bay for just over two years now.”

“
Well that’s excellent! Now, tell me…”

Kate
easily chatted to Marco for ten minutes. She found herself grateful to have someone to talk to and she was so involved, she hadn’t noticed that Mark had grown bored of the conversation and was talking to someone else. Finally, she looked around.

“
Oh, I think we’ve lost Mark. I’d better find him. Thank you for keeping me entertained.”

“
Kate, you are more than welcome. Tell you what, could you ask Mark to call me this week? I have just purchased a block of old houses on a beach north of Manly and I’m looking at building apartments there.”

Kate nodded
and moved through the thinning crowd to Mark’s side. Remembering her previous run-in with Norm, she scanned the room, noticed he wasn’t around and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping she’d scared him off for good. Fortunately, it looked like Mark was winding up for the evening and it wasn’t long before they were in the car heading home.

“
I see you had a lot to talk about to Marco.”

“
Yeah, he’s a nice man.”

“
I’d watch him if I were you, he’s known for chasing tail.”

If only he’d seen what his good friend Norm
had been doing.

“
I thought him lovely. And before I forget, he’s asked if you can call his office this week. Apparently he’s just purchased beach-front land just north of Manly and is looking to put some apartments on it.”

“
At Manly? Funny he didn’t mention it to me. So, your job does come in handy.”

Kate
bristled at the jab but decided to say nothing and as usual, forgave quickly. She changed the subject and they chatted companionably on the drive back to the house.

As they walked into the dark house, Mark closed the door behind them and without warning, hauled Kate to him even before she’d put down her things. She let out a squeak and dropped her bags as he burrowed into her cleavage and grabbed her bottom. Within a moment he had her breast out of her dress and was sucking on it like a hungry child. Kate squirmed in discomfort and he came up and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue between her teeth and lapped at her while his hands roamed her body, grabbing forcibly at her thighs, breasts and shoulders. Kate didn’t know what had come over him and tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her move as he dropped back down to her chest again and started to bite the other breast.

“
Mark, stop it. You’re hurting me.”

Mark gave a groan at her breast and immediately stopped his assault, leaning his head just under her chin and wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug.
Kate lifted her hands to run over his cropped hair, grateful he’d calmed down and she kissed his forehead and massaged his neck while breathing in his scent. After a moment more, Mark lifted his head and kissed her gently, tipping her head back and backed her slowly towards the low-backed blue couch. His hand pushed into her undies and she sucked in a breath as he started to rub and kiss her at the same time. Now this was more Mark’s style. At the couch, he turned her around and leant her forwards while he took little nibbles of the back of her neck and shoulder, all the while his hand was playing with her. Kate started to get wet. Then, without further ado, he unzipped and entered her.

Not quite ready,
Kate groaned at the slight pain and she gritted her teeth.

“
Mark…”

“
Oh baby, you’re so tight.”

H
e pumped into her, his back straight and head lifted towards the ceiling, holding onto her hips. He was breathing quickly and moved faster, pushing himself in deeply and hurting her. She lifted her bottom higher to ease the discomfort which only encouraged him and a moment later, he stiffened and let out a grunt, flopping forward to lay his brow on her back, his sweat dripping on her skin and dress. As he shook against her, Kate dropped her face so her hair covered it and tried not to let him see she was disappointed.

Mark hugge
d her to him tightly, as though he were in pain.

“
I’m so sorry darling, I don’t know what came over me. I just… I don’t know.”

“
It’s okay Mark, you’ve been stressed lately.”

“
Yeah, I guess so.” He took a breath. “Bed?”

“
Definitely.”

Mark gently undressed her in the bedroom and this time made love to her in his usual patient way and
Kate forgave him his strange mood of before. She was happy with him; he was a good husband. It was only since their holiday he’d been behaving strangely.

She wondered why.

Katelyn Elizabeth was born to Michael and Penelope Tyler and raised on the North Island of New Zealand in a small town a couple of hours north of the capital, Wellington.

Michael’s father, Hemi, was a Maori and his mother,
Judith, was a dark-headed white woman from his home town. Michael was their third child and at seven-years of age, showed great potential as a future Rugby Union player. At 23, with the height and frame of a fullback (the last line of defence before the goal line and an expert kicker), he made it to Second-Grade; one level below professional. He took time off from his Civic Engineering degree and went with his team to the UK to play some friendly games. It was here he met Penelope.

Penelope was upper-class English and a Finishing School graduate
. She was raised in the upper levels of society of strict manners, impeccable poise and toffy-nosed habits. Penelope was six when her parents, George and Kathy, landed one of the biggest lottery wins in UK history and they tried to use their millions to escape their rough, lower-class background and be accepted into the ancient nobility. They purchased an old mansion in Chelsea, filled it with expensive antique furniture, took elocution lessons and had stylists groom them impeccably. They threw elaborate parties and attended as many gala events as possible. Still, despite their best attempts, they were snubbed by the society they coveted. This only encouraged them.

George and Kathy
wouldn’t hear of behaviour that demonstrated anything but class. In an attempt to secure plausibility, Penelope was sent to a top girls’ school with a built-in Finishing School, with discipline measures that bordered on abuse. She hated it and felt like an outcast amongst the old-moneyed families. However, after five years of crushing conditioning, her naturally gregarious personality was groomed into an aristocratic self-control, much to her parent’s pleasure. Penelope was an excellent product of her expensive education, but secretly, all she wanted was to be normal.

She was 20 and at
university when she snuck out of her mansion to attend an East End party with a few girlfriends. Michael was there, dancing very badly with a bunch of his team mates. A group of large rugby players would always be noticeable and Penelope and her friends jumped into the scrum. She danced three dances with Michael, who found her accent, pale colouring and poise fascinating. They went to get a drink.

He
was so exotic with his dark skin and Kiwi accent that she was immediately hooked. They danced together for the rest of the night, later swapped numbers and she snuck out to meet him as often as she could for the next three days.

Penelope
then caused mass scandal and shame to her parents by following Michael to New Zealand and later, marrying him when five months pregnant with Patricia. They disowned her and Penelope didn’t care.

Kate
lyn arrived two years later, but still, George and Kathy only sent the occasional card on birthdays as acknowledgement for their grandchildren’s existence. Penelope knew she’d made the right decision, but it still hurt.

Michael
spent a lot of time travelling with his Union team and working as a junior Engineer, so Penelope (now known as Penny) raised the girls in the same way she was; finishing school politeness, consideration and above all, non-confrontation.

Kate
’s biggest influence was the difference to her sister. Patricia was scholarly, accomplished, attractive and popular; Kate was an average student who excelled in the creative classes. Patricia inherited Michael’s height and her mother’s fair skin whereas Kate was small, curvy and dark. Patricia was charmingly stubborn, Kate was gentle and obedient. Penny loved her girls equally but unconsciously favoured Patty’s spark and Kate learnt at a very early age that she could never compete with her sister. So, in order to gain her mother’s favour, she’d model her behaviour on her mother’s most valued characteristics. Eager to please, compliant and adaptable to others’ wishes, Kate found her niche as the person to rely on, who wouldn’t say “no” and was constantly cheerful. It would dictate her relationships for the rest of her life.

In
her senior school years, Kate continued with her drama classes and regularly topped the grade with her accurate portrayals. She loved being able to release her self-imposed obedience, shut down her reserve and morph into someone else. She graduated from her final year with regular marks in all subjects but drama and home economics, which she received high grades for. For a while, Kate worked as a kitchen hand in a small café, enrolled in some local productions and at 21 was successful in attaining a place at Sydney’s coveted National Institute of Dramatic Arts (NIDA). It was a three-year degree and she eagerly moved to Sydney and attacked her studies, quickly becoming well-known for her realistic camera personas. The move to Sydney was a temporary choice as she intended on building her career in New Zealand after graduation.

NIDA
is located opposite the University of New South Wales, which was where Mark had been teaching Architecture for seven years. This was how, one day in a local coffee shop, he met Kate.

Mark Johnson was born and raised in Sydney. He had a straightforward childhood until the age of eight when his father, Jonathan, decided he couldn’t hack life as a responsible parent anymore and didn’t come home from work one night. Esther frantically called the hospitals and his known hangouts to no success. Then, at 11pm that night, when Esther was almost collapsing in fear, Jonathan called. Her relief palpable until he curtly informed her he was in Bali and wasn’t coming back. It was her fault for being a nagging shrew; she should have looked after him better.

Esther was
stunned into silence; he’d never once raised these issues with her and she assumed things were fine. But, the icing on the cake happened two days after when she found he’d cleared their joint account of every cent (that she also paid her part time wage into) and had spent most of it on a first class ticket to Bali.

The following years were hard on them both.
Mark grew up seeing his mother struggle and vowed to never do that to a woman; that he would be loyal, careful and supportive.

Esther’s parents stepped in to help and Mark
became very close to his Grandpa, a cheerful fellow who’d take Mark fishing in creeks and on long hikes through state forests. Garry Fischer was a strong man, young for his age of 61, and Mark adored him; they had a special bond.

When Mark was 13, Garry was diagnosed with a malignant, aggressive brain tumour that would take him in six weeks. On the last day of Garry’s life, he was propped up in bed, a shadow of the robust man he’d been only two months earlier. His eyes were sunken deep into large sockets, his mouth was slack and his skin as thin as paper. Mark and Esther were visi
ting Garry in hospital when Esther slipped out to get lunch, leaving Mark alone. Mark held Garry’s thin, fragile hand, fighting to stop the tears from blinding him and talked gibberish about their fishing adventures.

Garry suddenly squeezed Mark’s hand so tightly, he yelled
. Garry convulsed on the bed once, arching his back high before groaning a frightful deathly sound and he slumped back, his head falling to one side, eyes open and his hand going slack. Air hissed from his nose and while Mark was watching, black fluid spilled from Garry’s loose mouth.

Mark observed the trail of bile in
shock, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to believe he’d just witnessed his precious Grandpa’s death, when the scream burst from him. He screamed and screamed and screamed, the nurses on call running in, two of which had to physically remove him from the room. Esther arrived ten minutes later to a hysterical son and a dead father.

She managed to calm Mark all while trying to control her own distress, but that incident would affect Mark for the rest of his life.
From that point on, he was terrified of hospitals and would only see a doctor under extreme duress, afraid they’d diagnose him like they did his beloved Grandpa and he’d die in the same horrific way.

Years moved on and Mark recovered and adjusted. He was fine as long as he stayed away from hospitals.

Then, one unremarkable day, Jonathan reappeared.

Mark
hadn’t heard from his father for ten years, long enough for both he and Esther to forget he existed. Mark was in his first year of Uni studying architecture. They had no idea how Jonathan had tracked them down, but that day he was standing at the door to the little house they’d struggled to buy, looking very apologetic and sheepish. He explained that he’d spent years regretting his decision, was missing them, wanted to be a part of Mark’s life and wanted to have a second chance. Esther patiently listened to the diatribe and then when Jonathan had finished and looked at her hopefully, she slammed the door in his face and dusted her hands.

“
That felt fantastic,” she said to Mark.

Mark just grinned.

As Mark reached his mid-thirties, to acquaintances he gave the impression of sobriety; he liked order, straight lines, schedules and had his career and life mapped out. Yet to friends, he had a mischievous sense of humour and enjoyed movies, Wii tournaments and a few noisy beers during sports matches. He played competitive soccer on weekends and had a weekly routine of swimming and squash. His mates liked him, his colleagues respected him.

Only one thing was missing;
he wasn’t married yet.

He first saw Kate reading a textbook in a local café in her final year of study, seated in a corner lounge with her legs tucked up under her and her hair long, parted in the middle and curly around her face. She was wearing loose jeans, a black fitted t-shirt, a chunky green necklace and a look of concentration on her smooth, olive-skinned face that melted his heart. He knew he had to talk to her, somehow. The mass of marking tucked in his briefcase could wait.

Mark had always drawn female attention easily;
he had little problem approaching other university academics for extra-curricular activities. Today, however, he was at a loss.

The gorgeous
girl in the corner obviously didn’t frequent his usual circles. He dredged his mind for a way to introduce himself. He sat down at a nearby table, surreptitiously glancing at her while he drank his coffee. He ran all possible conversation starters through his mind and finally came up with one that sounded innocent enough. Plucking up the courage, he gathered his things, walked over to the table and tried his pick-up line:
“
Excuse me, but haven’t we met before? Bettina’s party, four weeks ago?”

Kate
quickly glanced up from her book, seemingly annoyed at the interruption.

“
Sorry?”

“
I was just thinking we’d met before?”

Kate
looked at him directly with a stern look on her lovely face and he knew immediately he’d made a big mistake. A thousand thoughts lurched through his head, the most prominent was that he’d made a fool of himself and Mark just didn’t do that. He was just about to order his legs to move when she laughed; an irresistible, sparkly laugh that despite his discomfiture, made his mouth lift and his heart tingle.

“
You’ve been sitting there watching me for 25-minutes and that’s what you came up with?”

The first thing he noticed was her
infectious smile, the second her accent and the third that, for once, he didn’t mind that she was laughing at him.

She spoke through her
laughter, “I’m sorry, I must be making you feel terrible. Please, sit.”

Mark sat down and
the long conversation flowed. He learnt she was an actor and within an hour, her sunny, witty personality had drawn him in. She seemed to be interested in everything he did and asked lots of questions to keep him talking. Later, Mark was amazed to find himself almost out of breath with laughter at her mimicking a fellow actor’s over-acted portrayal of Lady Chatterley. He was chuffed when she giggled (actually giggled) when he told her his first residential drawing assessment had been marked down because he’d forgotten the toilet.

Kate
was surprised at the comfort she felt with Mark. She liked his calm, mature demeanour, his experience and accomplishments. He was so grown up and serious until he laughed and reminded her of a little boy. He was intelligent, studious and really spunky.

Mark told her about his favourite painters while
Kate described the latest play she’d seen. He told her about water ski racing on the river and she told him she adored tramping.

“
Tramping?”

“
Yeah. You call it hiking.”

“
Strange.”

“
Yes, Australians usually are.”

“
Haahaa.”

He spoke of Karl Marx and she told him of Plutarch and The Colour Purple
. Kate missed her afternoon class and Mark didn’t assess a single paper. Neither cared.

They had Thai for dinner
. He drove her home. He kissed her as he was leaving and she agreed to see him the next day, and the next and the next.

Kate
graduated eight-months later and instead of moving back to New Zealand as planned, sent her apologies to her family and hunted for work in Sydney to be near Mark. She was overjoyed at landing a plumb job in a daily soap opera called
Pacific Beach
and spent most of her week on a set both near the city and out on the northern beaches.