Night Over Water - Ken Follett [151]
She never finished the sentence. The plane flew into the most severe turbulence yet, and bucked like a wild horse. Nancy dropped her glass and grabbed the edge of the dressing table with both hands. Mervyn tried to brace himself with his feet, but he could not, and when the plane tilted sideways he rolled onto the floor, knocking the coffee table aside.
The plane steadied. Nancy reached out a hand to help Mervyn up, saying: “Are you all right?” Then the plane tossed again. She slipped, lost her handhold and tumbled to the floor on top of him.
After a moment he started to laugh.
She had been afraid she might have hurt him, but she was light and he was a big man. She was lying across him, the two of them making the shape of an X on the terra-cotta carpet. The plane steadied, and she rolled off and sat up, looking at him. Was he hysterical, or just amused?
“We must look daft,” he said, and recommenced laughing.
His laughter was infectious. For a moment she forgot the accumulated tensions of the last twenty-four hours: the treachery of her brother, the near-crash in Mervyn’s small plane, her awkward situation in the honeymoon suite, the ghastly row about Jews in the dining room, the embarrassment of Mervyn’s wife’s anger, and her fear of the storm. She suddenly realized there was also something highly comical about sitting on the floor in her nightclothes with a strange man in a wildly bucking aircraft. She, too, started to giggle.
The next lurch of the plane threw them against one another. She found herself wrapped in Mervyn’s arms, still laughing. They looked at one another.
Suddenly she kissed him.
She surprised herself totally. The thought of kissing him had never even crossed her mind. She was not even sure how much she liked him. It seemed like an impulse that came from nowhere.
He was clearly shocked, but he got over it quickly enough, and kissed her back enthusiastically. There was nothing tentative about his kiss, no slow burn: he was instantly aflame.
After a minute she pulled away from him, gasping. “What happened?” she said foolishly.
“You kissed me,” he said, looking pleased.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m glad you did, though,” he said, and he kissed her again.
She wanted to break away, but his grip was strong and her will was weak. She felt his hand steal inside her robe, and she stiffened: her breasts were so small that she was embarrassed, and afraid he would be disappointed. His large hand closed over her small round breast, and he groaned deep in his throat. His fingertips found her nipple, and she felt embarrassed all over again: she had had enormous nipples since nursing the boys. Small breasts and big nipples—she felt peculiar, almost deformed; but Mervyn showed no distaste, quite the contrary. He caressed her with surprising gentleness, and she gave herself up to the delicious sensation. It was a long time since she had felt this way.
What am I doing? she thought suddenly. I’m a respectable widow, and here I am rolling on the floor of an airplane with a man I met yesterday! What’s come over me? “Stop!” she said decisively. She pulled away and sat upright. Her negligee had ridden up over her knees. Mervyn stroked her bare thigh. “Stop,” she said again, pushing his hand away.
“Whatever you say,” he said with obvious reluctance. “But if you change your mind, I’ll be ready.”
She glanced at his lap and saw the bulge in his nightshirt made by his erection. She looked away quickly. “It was my fault,” she said, still panting from the kiss. “But it was a mistake. I’m acting like a tease, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “It’s the nicest thing that’s happened to me for years.”
“But you love your wife, don’t you?” she said bluntly.
He winced. “I thought I did. Now I’m a bit confused, to tell you the truth.”
That was