"Skin summer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Griffin Ann)

CHAPTER TEN

They drank some, and talked as they sat on the floor of Sam's cabin, and eventually he told his own story. He could see, now, that he had been sick, just as Susan had said. Sick because he did not understand that sex is a display of love. When you love someone, there is no more wonderfully complete method of letting them know, of reassuring them than by giving them your body for pleasure. Sex should never be a tool to extract something from another person. That is subverting what Nature has provided and what your body was originally intended for. He could see where his hang-up had originated, back in his broken home, back with the first girls he had been with. Now, perhaps, he could shake it. For the first time, with Susan Calderwood-Logan, there had been love involved. He had fallen for her that first day and had not understood the emotions raging within him. He had stumbled on, working his con the same way as always. But not only had he met someone he loved, but someone who was too self-controlled to fall for his standard routine.

He had gotten drunk and gone to Jenny. The only way he could explain that was that he felt sorry for her, for her inability to lead a normal life, for her hostility that would not allow her to get all the joy out of her world that she could if she faced it more cheerfully. He must have had some idea of curing her, of showing her she could enjoy herself with a man. It was an absurd idea. Nine times out of ten, it would have failed. In Jenny's case, it worked. And he had enjoyed himself as much as he had with Susan – because, again, love was involved and not just the profit motive.

He understood all this now.

But he still had a bad problem.

Which was Susan Calderwood-Logan…

He knew now that he loved her very much, that he respected her. She was the kind of girl-woman he had unconsciously been searching for all these years. She was a match for him, both physically and mentally. To lose her would be the worst event of his life. But he had surely lost her. She had told him he was mentally ill, had told him she did not ever wish to see him again.

"But it can't end here," he said, finishing his confidences with Linda and Jenny.

Linda puckered her lips, preparatory to saying something. She looked prettier than ever now. He thought that is was because he no longer viewed her as an object or a mark for his con, but as a vibrant, complex human being. "Don't let it end," she said.

"What can I do."

"It looks hopeless to me," Jenny said. "But then, if she's as open-minded and free a girl as you say, she should be able to forgive you and to accept the fact that you are trying to change."

"Maybe," he said, unconvinced.

"Tell her you're sorry," Linda said. She crossed one long leg over the other and leaned against the base of the sofa. "Go to her now and tell her you have re-thought the whole thing."

"Sounds too shallow," Sam says. "She'd not even listen to the first two sentences before slamming the door in my face."

"I agree," Jenny said.

"Well," Linda said, "what could you do to prove you've changed? What evidence could you offer?"

"None," he said dismally. "No matter how convincing I was, she'd always wonder when I was going to ask for money. She would never be certain the change was a reality."

"You could start," Linda said, as if she had not been listening to his answer, "by giving Brenda Markwell back the money you've gotten from her. That would be proof. Then, if Susan is still not convinced, send her to Jenny and me. We'll talk to her."

He looked at both of them, grinned. "There's no chance of it working, but it's the only thing left to try." He stood up. "I'll take the money back to Brenda now, I'll see Susan supper."