The Mill House (9 page)

'Football,' he corrected. 'Any news from Phyllis Long at Bowden's?'

'A fax is coming through now. Ed Granger just called from New York, he wants .. .'

'So that's who you were busy yabbering with as I left,' he teased. 'I'm jealous.'

'You'll get over it.'

He chuckled, and felt himself relax into her humour for a moment. How easy she always made life seem. Nothing ever managed to faze her - she was even mordantly witty about the husband who,

ten years ago, had taken off to recapture his youth with a backpacking Scandinavian who boasted a bust size of double her age and an IQ around about half. Of all the dumb decisions the bloke had ever made, leaving a woman like Marina had to rate as one of the worst.

'Ed's coming over next week and wants to take you and Julia to dinner,' she was telling him. 'He's bringing a new author he wants you to meet, apparently the typescript's being couriered even as we speak. I said you might not have time to read it all before he gets here, but you'd probably manage the first three chapters. I'll precis them for you, and let you know if you think they're any good.'

Wondering how he'd ever cope without her, Josh said, 'I hope you'll be joining us for the dinner.'

'That's what I said about you, when he invited me,' she responded. 'I don't go anywhere without you while Ed Granger's loose in the town without a wife.'

'Did you tell him that?'

'Of course. He's keener than ever now. Hang on, another call coming in.'

As she went off the line, Josh checked where he was, and quickly instructed the driver to make a detour to Kensington Church Street.

'That was Shannon,' Marina informed him. 'She'll call on your mobile. So what's this about with Falcon Hotels?'

'A photographic history. Not sure how interested I am, but it's worth taking a look. That'll be Shannon trying to get through. Anything else?'

'If there is, I'll call you back.'

Clicking over the line, he said, 'Hi gorgeous, how are you?'

'What if it hadn't been me?' Shannon demanded.

'Sorry. Who's that?'

'Yeah, very funny, but only you would think so.'

'What can I do for you?'

'I've just spoken to Mum and she says I have to ask you if I can stay out late for Gilly's birthday on Saturday night. Mum's totally cool with it, but because you're like in the Dark Ages ...'

'So how late is late?' he interrupted. 'And where are you going?'

'To this kind of club, but before you go off on one, it's specially for teenagers, which is what I am.'

'Does it serve alcohol?'

'Duh. Gilly's mum said I could stay over ...'

'Out of the question. Home by ten.'

'Dad!'

'OK, ten thirty.'

'That is so not going to happen. There's no point me going if it is.'

'Let's have this conversation when I get home,' he said, as the driver pulled up outside the address he'd given him. 'I have to go now. Are you still at school?'

'Just finished.'

'Then straight home, no loitering about with boys.'

'You always say that, and it always winds me up.'

'I know. Love you.'

Silence.

'Love you,' he repeated, as he got out of the cab. More silence.

'I'll let you have a ride in my Porsche.'

'I thought it was Mum's Porsche.' He grinned. 'She gave it back. Right, I'm really going now. See you after Dan's football,' and ringing off, he pushed open the door of a lingerie shop where he and Julia had spent a small fortune over the years.

After selecting a transparent white negligee that would just cover the bottom, and a pair of hold-up stockings with lacy tops, he paid an unfamiliar assistant with cash, then gave a friendly wave to the shop's owner who was busy with someone else, before hurrying back out to the cab.

Minutes later he was talking to another client on his mobile, while mentally urging the traffic to do a Red Sea number to let him through to his four o'clock - or better still, just snarl up completely to stop him getting there at all.

When the cab finally arrived at Sydney Street it came to a stop outside one of the elegant town- houses that could easily have been mistaken for a private dwelling, but was actually a hotel.

'You must be Mr Thayne,' the receptionist said, finding his name on the computer screen as he came in through the door, 'you're not the first to arrive. Third floor, room 307.'

As the lift rose silently upwards, a dark mirror was showing him the reflection of a man who despised himself for being here, even though he could already feel the anticipation building. He thought back to the times when Julia had waited

for him in hotel rooms, or restaurants, even taxi ranks, or cinemas, for they'd often pretended to be strangers meeting by chance as part of an erotic game that would end up driving them nuts with desire. In all their married life he'd never been unfaithful, had never even wanted to, though he'd never been short of offers. In spite of the rumours that he put it about all over town, no-one could ever point to someone he'd slept with, because until a few months ago there had never been anyone, except Julia.

The first time it had happened, it had been as much for the physical release as to punish her for the way she was rejecting him, though of course she knew nothing about it. And God forbid she ever would, because it hadn't stopped where it should have, and though he promised himself every time it happened that this would be the last, it still hadn't quite worked out that way.

Using the memory of last night's disaster to still his conscience, he tapped on the door of room 307, then pressed down on the handle and walked into the room. It was spacious, and bordering on the baroque with its ornately carved bedhead and old- fashioned furnishings - not the kind of place he'd normally associate with the woman he was meeting, for her style was much more minimalist and twenty-first century.

She was standing with her back to him looking out of the window, her blonde hair twisted into an elegant roll at the nape of her neck, her arms folded in front of her. She wore a cream silk suit, matching high-heeled sandals and a perfume he knew well. As he closed the door and put his parcel

down he could already feel the erotic charge in the air, but knowing how she liked to play it her way he said nothing, merely waited for her to turn round.

Several more seconds ticked by until she drawled softly, 'Punctuality has its rewards,' and as she turned to face him she slipped off her jacket, leaving herself naked to the waist.

Desire cut through him like a whip, but he only watched as Sylvia reached behind her to draw the clip from her silky blonde hair. As it tumbled around her shoulders she started towards him, her pale blue eyes moving over him like the burn of ice.

'Is this a business meeting?' she said as she reached him.

'If that's what you want,' he responded, and placed his hands over the small, perfect mounds of her breasts.

She looked down to watch his fingers as they began toying with her nipples, pulling and squeezing, and rubbing them with his thumbs.

'I could make you my agent,' she murmured, looking up at him, 'but it will depend on how you perform today.'

'You know I'll do whatever it takes,' he answered gruffly.

Her eyes narrowed with pleasure. 'That's what I like to hear.'

He slipped a hand around her throat and tilted her head back to look at her. 'I've brought something for you,' he told her.

She glanced at the parcel and recognising the name she said, 'I don't want to put anything on today. I just want to take everything off.'

'Then don't let me stop you,' he murmured.

As she unfastened her skirt she started to smile. 'I have a surprise for you,' she told him, and letting the silk slide down over her thighs she stepped out of it and back a few paces so he could see all of her.

'Oh Christ,' he groaned, when he saw that the lips of her sex were as naked as the day she'd been born.

She watched his eyes drinking it in, then lifting one foot onto a chair she said, 'Don't you want to touch it?'

Going to her, he pushed his fingers between her legs, to find her already wet and ready for him to do whatever pleased her the most.

For a while she just enjoyed the sensation of his fingers inside her, then moving away she walked over to the desk and dipped a strawberry into a pot of cream, before turning back to him and putting it in her mouth.

As he watched her eat he began removing his clothes. Her eyes never left him as he opened his shirt to reveal the muscles of his chest, and strength of his arms, then she murmured approval of how hard he was, as he lowered his trousers over legs that were firm and powerful and still tanned from the summer in France. By the time he was naked she'd smothered her breasts in cream and was waiting for him to lick it off. He wasted no time before drawing first one, then the other nipple deep into his mouth, and as he sucked he took the cream from her and began smearing it between her legs.

Her eyes were catlike and sensuous as she

watched him, then sitting back on the desk opened her legs wide, ready for him to feast himself there too. Instead he put strawberries there, pushing them inside her, then feeding some to her before devouring the rest himself.

Her hand was reaching for him now, pulling his erection, guiding it towards her. As it touched her she moaned softly and let her head fall back. 'Give it to me,' she murmured. 'Give it to me harder than I can take.'

Her words inflamed him and as she circled his waist with her legs, she dug the heels of her shoes into his buttocks, and forced him into her so hard it made her cry out. 'Yes, oh yes,' she gasped, as he began slamming into her. 'Fuck me, Joshua. Make me scream.'

His hands were gripping her hips as he rode her savagely, jerking her body with all his might, making her back arch and her hair swing over the desk behind her. He met her coldly calculating gaze and wanted to hurt her more and more.

'You've wanted to do this for years, haven't you?' she taunted. 'You've been dreaming about it, tearing yourself apart over it. Well you're in me now, Josh. You're fucking me so hard ...' She gasped as the first wave of an orgasm began to break. 'Do it harder,' she urged. 'Make me come like I've never come before.'

He could feel her shuddering and clamping him in a way that was bringing on his own climax. He threw himself at her in long, rapid strokes, then short brutal thrusts. She was sinking back on the desk, moaning with pleasure, and bucking her hips against his.

'Yes, oh yes she murmured, squeezing her own nipple and letting her head fall back. 'You're big I'm so full of you ... Oh God,' she cried as he grabbed her knees and spread her so wide it hurt.

He was almost spent now, and knew that she was too, for the clasp of her inner muscles was growing weaker around him. His heart was thudding as though it might burst from his chest, while sweat poured down his back and his breath came in loud, grunting pants. Then the last of his climax was spurting from him, and as he held her fast, he ground her hard, waiting for the final ecstasy of release to subside.

When it ended he wanted to lie over her, to let his breath steady and his heart calm down, but he knew he didn't have the time and his mobile was ringing.

Without thinking he reached for it, and seeing who it was he instantly withdrew and turned away, tensing as Sylvia gave a murmur of protest.

'Hi,' he said, moving away from her and wondering what madness had made him answer this call. 'Everything OK?'

'Everything's fine,' Julia assured him. 'Are you in a meeting?'

'No. What's up?' he said, starting for the bathroom.

'I just had a call from Katya Young at Hodders. She wants me to edit Hamish Kincaid's new book.'

'Wow!' he responded, coming to a stop. 'That's great. Are you pleased?'

'Of course. I just wondered if it had anything to do with you.' 'Me?'

'I thought you might have had a chat with Katya, pulled a few strings.'

Swallowing his annoyance he said, 'Actually, the credit's all yours, so don't do yourself down.'

There was a smile in her voice as she said, 'Thank you.'

He wanted to get her off the line, but couldn't think how.

'Are you going to make it for Dan?' she asked.

'It's looking that way. I have to go now, I'll call when I'm on my way home.'

As he rang off he let his head fall against the bathroom door. 'Shit!' he muttered. 'Shit! Shit!'

Sylvia was regarding him from the desk, where she was sitting with her long legs demurely crossed and her hands spread out either side of her. 'I take it that was Julia,' she said mildly.

He turned to look at her. 'She's been asked to edit Hamish Kincaid's next book,' he told her, not quite knowing why.

Sylvia looked impressed. 'That's good news,' she responded. 'She must be pleased.'

His eyes closed as a terrible wave of guilt swept over him.

'Go and shower,' she advised, and leaned forward to take off her shoes.