Afterwards, as they lay languidly in each other’s arms, she gave in to the urge to touch him, to caress every centimetre of him, to discover his physical being. And she was eager for him to do the same to her.

Although she tried not to, as Laurent dozed next to her later, Bel could not help thinking of the contrast to the couplings she’d endured with Gustavo. How could the same act elicit such a startlingly different response from her mind and her body?

She understood then with sudden clarity that Laurent had been right when he’d said she shouldn’t marry Gustavo. For nothing could ever change the fact that she didn’t, and wouldn’t ever, love her husband the way he loved her.

The revulsion she felt towards him physically was not his fault – he was not a bad man, a tyrant who didn’t care for her. If anything, he cared too much and wanted to show her in the only way available to him.

‘What is it?’

Laurent had woken, and was gazing intently at her.

‘I was thinking about Gustavo.’

‘Try not to, Bel. No good can come of it.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ she sighed, and rolled away from him onto her side. She felt his hand caress the soft contour of her hip, then slide into the valley of her waist. He pulled her towards him, so that they lay curved into each other’s bodies as one.

‘I know, ma chérie, I know. It’s a terrible, terrible mess. And we must both do all we can to shield your husband from it.’

As his hand moved upwards to cup her breast, she sighed with pleasure and wriggled luxuriantly against him. All thoughts of Gustavo were forgotten as Laurent made love to her again, and she was transported to realms of pleasure that she’d never visited before.

Afterwards, Bel too dozed contentedly until she jumped awake and saw the time.

‘Meu Deus! I must leave. My driver will be waiting for me at Madame Duchaine’s,’ she gasped in panic, scrambling out of the bed. She collected her clothes, which were either twisted in the sheets or strewn on the floor, and dressed as fast as she could. All the time, Laurent watched her quietly from the mattress.

‘When will I see you again?’ he asked.

‘Not tomorrow, for I must make an appearance at the church where I’m helping with the making of the mosaic for the Cristo’s outer-self. But maybe on Monday?’ she said as she hurriedly tidied her hair, then pinned on her hat and moved towards the door.

Laurent was immediately by her side, encircling her in his arms.

‘I shall miss you, every second.’

Bel shivered as she felt his nakedness press against her. ‘And I you.’

‘Until then, ma chérie. I love you.’

Bel glanced at him one last time before walking out of the door.

38

Over the next few months, Bel floated through the days on a wave of heightened emotion. It was as if her life before that afternoon in February at Laurent’s apartment had been no more than a dull, grey existence without meaning. Now, when she woke up in the morning and lay thinking of Laurent, every part of her body tingled with adrenaline. The blue of the sky beyond her bedroom window seemed almost dazzling in its brightness and the flowers in the garden exploded before her eyes in an exotic kaleidoscope of colour.