B004D4Y20I EBOK (61 page)

But he’s tried to put it right
, she thought, remembering the little package in her other hand.
And I do believe him, I really do. I know he loves me for myself
.

‘I did love you,’ she said at last. ‘But I don’t know if I can again.’

‘Can you … try?’ His soft brown eyes pleaded with
her.
He rubbed his thumb gently across the top of her hand. ‘Please, just give us another chance. Will you do that? I promise I’ll never lie to you again.’

It was almost too hard to resist the impulse to pull him to her. She closed her eyes.
Oh God, I hope I don’t regret this
. ‘I can’t make any promises,’ she said at last in a small voice. ‘If we do this, we have to start again.’

Pure joy beamed from his face. He wrapped his arms round her and lifted her off the ground, laughing. ‘That’s great, oh my God, that’s so great! I promise I won’t let you down again.’

‘I’ve enjoyed some corporate hospitality in my time,’ Tara said with a smile. ‘But this really is something special.’

They were sitting in Ferrera’s private jet. They had taken off half an hour earlier and were now flying through the night sky, the cabin windows revealing a velvet dark blue horizon sparkling with distant stars. The crew were preparing dinner in the galley while Richard and Tara sat in white leather chairs at a walnut table. An unobtrusive screen at the window end of the table showed the progress of the plane as it soared over the Atlantic.

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ said Ferrera. ‘It’s pretty boring on my own.’

‘Really?’ Tara looked out at the starry sky. ‘That’s hard to imagine.’

He lifted his glass of champagne. ‘I want to toast our new partnership.’

Tara smiled and lifted her glass to his. ‘To our new partnership,’ she echoed.

‘I’m sure it will be very successful for both of us.’

‘That is the idea.’

Ferrera grinned. ‘Do you think your sisters will accept the new arrangement?’

‘I’m sure they will.’

‘Good.’

The dinner came, laid before them by discreet staff who vanished back to the galley as soon as they had finished. Cold Scottish salmon, brown bread, lemon juice and black pepper was followed by a
poulet des Landes
roasted with a stuffing of foie gras and served with thyme-scented roast vegetables. Pudding was the lightest, freshest lemon sorbet Tara had ever tasted.

‘You know, I really liked your ex-wife,’ Tara said, as they ate.

‘Yeah, she’s a good woman. It didn’t work out for us but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.’ Richard smiled at her. They’d left Mia’s flat together after that short visit, but he didn’t ask her what the women had discussed. Instead, as they walked back, he told her everything she needed to know about his relationship with Jecca, and why he thought that Trevellyan and FFB were perfect business partners. All the way to his apartment, she’d listened, trying to absorb what he was telling her, while not being distracted by his dark brown eyes, expressive hands and strong shoulders.

‘There was something I wanted to ask you today in the park,’ Tara said, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. ‘About Erin de Cristo. It’s the last little niggle. My source – OK, not the most reliable source, it turns out – told me that you were planning to strip control
from
Erin as soon as the ink was dry on your contract, and impose your own vision for her company.’

Ferrera frowned. ‘Where exactly did this rumour come from?’

‘I really can’t say. I’m sure you understand that.’

‘OK. Whoever said it had their reasons for wanting to undermine me, but I can assure you that none of it is true. I’m not so stupid as to want to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. Erin’s artistic vision and creative ability have made her millions. Now I want them to make me millions too.’ He shrugged. ‘If it ain’t broke …’

She smiled back at him. ‘And I’m sure that any minute now, you’ll have Erin on the line to tell me so herself.’

He laughed. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

When the meal was over, she leaned back, happy. The fine wine they’d been drinking had relaxed and warmed her, so that she was deliciously fuzzy at the edges. It was so peaceful up here, so far from all the troubles and difficulties down on the ground. ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely to just stay up for ever, sailing through the sky?’ she sighed.

‘I think you’d soon grow tired of it,’ remarked Ferrera. ‘You like to be kept busy, I can see that.’

‘I’d miss my babies.’ As she thought of Edward and Imogen, she was seized with longing to see them, to hold them and smell them. She imagined them asleep in their little beds at home, their fair heads on the pillows, tiny bodies curled up as they slumbered. How desperately she loved and missed them. ‘Do you want to see a picture?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’

She pulled her purse out of her bag and reached for the snapshots she always carried with her. ‘Here.’ She passed them over, beaming proudly. ‘I’ve got some video of them on my laptop but luckily for you, it’s packed in the locker.’

‘Oh, they’re gorgeous,’ Ferrera said admiringly. ‘They look like you.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Yes – see, your daughter has pretty blue eyes, just like yours.’ He glanced up at her, smiling. ‘I mean it. You have stunning eyes. You are a truly beautiful woman.’

She was suddenly self-conscious and felt herself pink slightly, just as she had in the park earlier that day.

‘I’ve embarrassed you again,’ he said, looking uncomfortable. ‘I always forget that British women aren’t very good at accepting compliments. But I can’t help speaking my mind. I’d like to do business with you because I respect everything you’ve achieved. But more than that, I enjoy your company. You make me laugh and you also make me want to reach out and look after you, even though I know you are a strong, capable and independent woman. You’ve been through so much. Most ordinary people would have buckled under the strain long before now.’ He smiled at her.

Tara felt breathless. This evening was so bizarre already – like something out of a movie … it was all too perfect, too luxurious. She hadn’t expected it. She ought to be wearing a fabulous evening gown and
jewels
but instead she was in a business suit. She wished she looked beautiful and seductive.
I want to be as passionate as Jecca
, she realised.
But he’s seen me at my worst – hysterical, crying, almost comatose. And then this morning when I came out of the guest bedroom in that robe – my hair everywhere, my face a mess …

But why should she care? What did it matter?

Oh God, I fancy him
, she realised with horror.
No. No. I can’t! He’s probably slept with Jemima. She hinted as much when she said they’d met in Paris. He’s definitely slept with Jecca. I just can’t even think about it, it’s too distasteful
. She looked back at him as he sat across the table from her. Could he possibly want to seduce her? She thought back over everything that had happened between them, from her tipsy harangue to their quiet, intimate dinner and the sweet, friendly walk they’d shared today in Central Park.
He took me to meet his ex-wife. He cares what I think
. Mia had thought they were an item. Could they be?

Three days ago I hated him! I thought he planned to destroy me. Now he wants to save my business, he thinks I’m beautiful, capable, funny … Can everything really change so quickly?

Ferrera seemed aware of some discomfort between them. He looked concerned. ‘Are you tired? Would you like to rest?’

She blinked at him. She’d been lost in thought and hadn’t realised she was staring at him. ‘I … I … I suppose I should try and sleep. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’ She didn’t feel in the least tired but the atmosphere was becoming distinctly strange: she
had
the feeling that anything might happen up here in their little capsule, locked away from the world. A surge of power rushed through her.
If I want it, I can make it happen
, she told herself.
I just have to be sure that I want it
.

‘Let me show you where you can rest.’ He got up and led the way down through the cabin to a door. He stepped aside, allowing her to see what lay beyond. It was a bedroom, like that of a luxurious hotel, with a large double bed swathed in pearl-grey satin, black polished tables on either side, and chrome lamps with pale grey shades. A smaller door led to a tiny shower room and lavatory.

‘Is this for me?’ she said, stepping inside. ‘But where will you sleep?’

‘I’m happy enough out in the cabin,’ he replied. ‘I’ll do some work. Perhaps watch a movie to help me unwind. There’s a stretch-out divan if I need it.’

‘Oh,’ she said. She glanced back at the bedroom. She knew that Ferrera meant what he said – he was perfectly willing to sleep in the cabin. He expected nothing more. She felt the pivotal strength of the moment. In another instant, she could accept his generosity and he would leave her alone. Or … Turning back to look him full in the eye, she said huskily, ‘I don’t like to deprive you of your bed.’

Ferrera showed a tiny start of surprise but he quickly mastered it. He smiled at her a little quizzically.

‘You’re very welcome to my bed,’ he said in a low voice.

She took a step towards him so that they were
standing
very close together. ‘It looks lonely there, for just one person,’ she breathed, her eyes full of meaning.

‘Tara,’ he said, and reached for her hand. His grasp was smooth and warm. ‘You’ve been under a lot of strain. I don’t want to take advantage of that.’

‘No, of course not,’ she said, only able to think of the heat coming from his hand and the overwhelming desire she had to kiss his full lips and run her hand along his jaw, where a dark shadow of evening stubble was just appearing. ‘That’s OK.’

There was a pause. ‘You’re not supposed to agree with me,’ he said softly.

‘What?’

‘You’re supposed to protest that you’re fine, that you can’t think of anything nicer than allowing me to take advantage of you.’ He laughed lightly. ‘That’s what I was hoping, anyway.’

‘Oh, oh. Oh, yes, you’re right, you’re completely right!’ She felt flummoxed, like a gauche schoolgirl in the presence of a worldly wise
roué
. ‘I mean, I do want you to take advantage of me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Um …’ She wished she could concentrate on what they were saying but his nearness was too intoxicating. He was the first man she’d been this close to since she’d married Gerald, and the effect was overwhelming her. All she could think was how it would feel to kiss him.

‘We can’t stand here talking all day,’ he murmured, putting his mouth close to her ear and almost making
her
shiver with pleasure. ‘But I’m beginning to suspect that you’re not able to finish a sentence.’

‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘You’d better start without me.’

He moved his mouth slowly to her lips. With infinite patience, he kissed her, putting one hand behind her head and wrapping his fingers gently in her hair. She clutched his other arm. Her legs felt weak and his strength immediately held her as everything became focused on their mouths meeting, and the kiss that was growing in sweetness. He was an excellent kisser, and it felt utterly natural. All her fears that she wouldn’t know how to kiss a man who wasn’t Gerald vanished. In fact, she’d never had a kiss like this, so soft and floating at the same time as firm and confident. He was embracing her now, running his hand up her back and round her waist, relishing the feel of her body beneath the soft cool material of her silk shirt.

‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked breathlessly, breaking their kiss for a moment.

‘I want to make love with you,’ she murmured.

He kissed her again, pushing them both into the small bedroom and kicking the door shut behind them.

Should I stop this now?
she wondered.
Is it wise?
It crossed her mind for an instant to say ‘we’d better not’ – but then she tried to imagine making this delightful feeling stop. That was impossible. She was on the ride now. She wouldn’t get off until it was finished.

He returned to her mouth, pressing his tongue inside it, exploring her, while one hand began stroking
her
leg, pushing her skirt upwards until he reached the top of her thigh. She slipped her jacket off, letting it fall to the floor and revealing the gossamer soft silk shirt. His hand left her thigh and moved to her breasts, undoing the buttons on her shirt to display her bra and the small mounds of flesh inside. For a moment she hoped he wasn’t disappointed – she was so flatchested compared to other women – but she didn’t have long to dwell on that as he ran his hand over her tits, murmuring appreciatively. She pulled away from him long enough to slip off her shirt and deftly unhook her bra, before he couldn’t bear it any longer and pulled her to him. He dropped his mouth to her nipples, sucking deeply on each one until they sprang out, pink and stiff.

She breathed in hard as the tingles of pleasure rippled outwards. She surrendered to the waves of arousal that were engulfing her. When had she last felt like this? With Gerald, towards the end, she had had to use every ounce of imagination to become excited. With this man, the touch of his thumb on her collarbone was burningly arousing. She could already feel an ache growing in her groin, and the hot swell that told her she was ready to receive him.

He pushed her back on to the smooth grey satin bedcover until she was lying on her back, her chest bare, her skirt rumpled round her middle. He undressed himself swiftly, dropping his clothes to the floor until he was wearing only his boxer shorts, then he eased her skirt downwards so that she was wearing only her lace briefs.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he breathed, looking at her, his gaze raking her body.

‘Can we turn down the lights?’ she asked shyly, trying not to catch his eager eyes. His face was impossibly handsome and his body was the same: a golden honey-brown, with dark hair covering his chest. She couldn’t help but look at his long, thick penis that was pressing outwards from his boxer shorts, embarrassed despite her arousal and the lust coursing through her. She had not yet lost all her inhibitions.