Beyond Temptation (7 page)

Amelia studied the artist as he listened to the phone. He held his jacket between careless fingers. Every muscle in his body had been rigid with mounting anger. As she watched, she saw his posture soften.

For an instant, his frown returned.

‘This is a joke, right?’

Then he relaxed again.

‘This is better than good, Dominic.’ Yale’s voice was rising with delight. ‘This is tremendous. I owe you, man, and I owe you big time.’

He paused for a second.

‘Maybe not that much.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll get onto it tonight. When things are sorted, I’ll call you and let you know what’s happened, Dominic.’ He snapped the phone off and dropped it back into his jacket pocket. Smiling at Amelia he said, ‘That was Dominic.’

‘I’d guessed.’

Yale shook his head, still grinning in spite of her curt response. ‘He met the senior critic from
Art
last night. He’s just tried to get in touch with her again.’

Amelia continued to regard him with a speculative gaze. He was so excited and triumphant his body trembled. Intrigued, she urged him to continue.

‘She’s away from the office at the moment, but he suggested I go and introduce myself to her anyway.’

‘How can you do that if she’s away from the office?’ Amelia asked. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

Yale laughed. ‘That’s the best part,’ he told her happily. He shook his head, causing waves of long dark hair to fly around his face. ‘She’s spending a week at Holbert Manor. Dominic thinks I should go up there and show her some of my canvases.’

‘Holbert Manor? Seriously?’

Amelia drew a startled breath. This was beyond coincidence. There were so many questions, she didn’t know which to ask first.

Yale treated Holbert Manor as his own personal Mecca. The likelihood of the art critic sloping off to that particular location was so incredible Amelia thought it was more like a sign from the gods than a mere coincidence. She tried to find the words to express the sentiment but could only smile with dizzied delight.

Yale nodded, unable to suppress the idiotic grin that twisted his lips. His excitement was immense and she saw he was resisting the urge to dance with glee.

‘Get back to work,’ he instructed sharply. ‘I want this piece finished before we leave, and we leave as soon as the last brushstroke is in place.’

Without hesitating, Amelia resumed her position. She raised her cat-o’-nine-tails high and struck Bernice smartly across the rear.

* * *

Robyn watched the silhouette of the Highlands etched against the dark-blue velvet of a star-speckled sky. The peaks and troughs on the horizon shifted and fell away as she drove further north. The unlit countryside outside the car sped past her in an unseen blur as each long mile passed. Her CD player ploughed through
Les Misérables
for the third time and she sang along with those lyrics that she knew whenever the mood touched her. The sombre meaning behind the words wasn’t helping her introspective misery but it did distract her from the chore of driving.

The morning had begun badly with another row.

She had wanted to talk to Harold and try to resolve whatever problem was troubling their marriage. Harold hadn’t wanted to talk. He had reiterated his ultimatum from the night before and then stormed out of the house.

Climb into bed with another man, and that’s it. Our marriage will be over. I’ll cut you off without a single penny.

His words had still rung in her ears long after the last echo of the slammed front door subsided.

It seemed incredible that he could say such a thing. They had been enjoying an open marriage since the night their honeymoon ended. Harold had sloped off with a pair of waitresses that evening and she’d ended up in bed with the hotel manager. They had laughed about it and shared the dirty talk of the experience with one another as they made love together later the following day.

The honeymoon had set a delicious precedent for the relationship.

And Robyn had thought the situation would go on for ever in a catalogue of swinging, swapping and sharing experiences. Miserably, she realised she was wrong. Their honeymoon was now well and truly over.

She had seen Harold again in the office that morning but he had ignored her. His cool rejection of her conciliatory smile was more than Robyn could bear. Hurt by the impassive assessment of his dark eyes, she had been left with only one possible course of action: she had to go away and get her thoughts in order. With that decision made, she hurled a sheaf of papers into her briefcase, spoke to Gayle and then jumped into the car.

Ten hours later, with her backside weary from driving and her arms aching from holding the steering wheel, she wondered if she had made the right decision. Regardless of whether it was right or wrong, she knew she had to get away from the city. Being there only made things worse.

On the way into the office that morning a young man with long hair had caught her attention. He stood at reception, talking animatedly with a group of colleagues. His gaze had met hers and he had offered her a crooked smile.

Instinctively, Robyn had smiled back.

She knew her expression was too alluring for the morning. She knew her eyes were appraising him too lewdly but she couldn’t help herself. The familiar pulse of longing tickled between her legs and she had found herself swept up with a need for him.

Ardently fighting the desire, she had stepped into the lift and taken herself away from the temptation. At least if she were out of the city there wouldn’t be any more distractions like that. She needed the remoteness and the isolation of Holbert Manor.

From the tape-player, Madame Thénardier began singing her chorus of ‘Master of the House’. Robyn joined in cheerfully with a raucous rendition, emphasising every line and mentally directing the scathing lyrics towards Harold. When her mobile rang, she jumped in her seat, startled by the shrill, intrusive ring.

‘Robyn?’ Gayle’s familiar voice came from the speaker of the hands-free set. ‘Christ. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Is your mobile playing up again?’

Robyn glanced at the dull green glow of the dashboard clock and saw the figures 21.47. ‘Gayle?’ she said incredulously. ‘Tell me you’re not in the office. Even if it’s a lie, tell me you do occasionally go home and try to have some sort of social life.’

‘I am at home,’ Gayle said shrewishly. ‘And I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?’

‘Out of range, I guess,’ Robyn said, not giving the matter a great deal of thought. ‘What’s so important you’re still trying to reach me at this time of night? Honest to God, Gayle, this is above and beyond the call of –’

‘First of all,’ Gayle began, ‘did you give my office number to that arsehole Wayne from sales?’

Robyn smiled sourly to herself. ‘Of course I did. You need a man in your life, Gayle. You’re turning into spinster material. I was looking after your interests.’

‘I’ll take issue with each of those comments when we’re face to face and I can claw your eyes out of their sockets. But, for the moment, that news doesn’t make me feel so bad. It actually makes me feel as though I was justified for what I’ve done.’

A crackle of static punctuated her sentence.

‘What have you done?’ Robyn asked. There was a long pause and she repeated the question, a querulous note rising in her voice. ‘What have you done, Gayle?’

‘Sorry,’ Gayle began. ‘You were breaking up then. I’m calling to tell you that a guy called Dominic was looking for you. He said he met you at the party. I told him where you’d gone.’

Robyn struck her fist against the steering wheel. ‘Shit, Gayle. That was stupid. Why the hell did you tell him that?’

There was another long, unsettling pause and Robyn prayed that the mobile’s tenuous connection would hold out long enough for her to finish this conversation. From previous experience she knew that coverage in the Highlands was notoriously unpredictable.

‘Gayle?’ she barked.

‘… you’re out in the middle of nowhere.’ Gayle sounded as though she was halfway through her sentence when the connection resumed. ‘I figured it would be far enough away from the city so he didn’t trouble you.’

Robyn sighed. ‘He’s an agent. That sort will go to the ends of the earth. There are only two places where an agent won’t go and that’s heaven and hell. They won’t go to heaven because they can’t get in there, and they won’t go to hell because that means they’re working from home.’

The mobile was silent.

It remained so and Robyn cursed, aware that the connection had been broken. She cursed again and struck the steering wheel harder than before. The vacuum of silence from the severed connection reminded her just how alone she was.

From out of the dark, a convoy of wagons rushed towards her. The high-sided vehicles were emblazoned with gaudy colours and brightly painted words, most of which she wasn’t able to discern in the dull glow of her dipped headlights. The wagons were the only vehicles she had seen in the last hour and that realisation reminded her just how isolated she now was. With her mood as dark as the moonlit sky above, she fought against the threat of tears and bravely drove on.

* * *

Amelia lay in her bunk and prepared to sleep. The sound of the motor home’s engine droned idly in the background and the rock and sway of the road beneath them threatened to lull her into a world of dreams as soon as she closed her eyes. The only distraction was the passing flash of overhead lights as they sped along the motorway. Amelia pulled the quilt over her head, buried her face in the pillow and drew a tired breath.

After making love to her, Yale had returned to the passenger seat of the motor home, riding shotgun whilst Christian drove. The warm trickle of his spent seed slipped wetly from between her pussy lips. Every muscle in her body still pulsed with the dull scorch of her last climax. It was, she reflected, a delightful way to drift off to sleep.

‘Where are we going?’

The quilt was pulled from her face and Amelia saw Bernice blinking at her. The delightful aftermath of Yale’s lovemaking softened her usual feeling of annoyance. Amelia smiled at the pretty young blonde, in spite of her weariness.

‘We’re going to Holbert Manor.’ She didn’t bother to add the word ‘again’. That would have been unkind and, although she doubted Yale was listening to them, there was always the possibility he might overhear.

‘Is that meant to explain something? What is Holbert Manor?’

‘It’s a building that’s special to Yale,’ Amelia told her.

‘Why?’

Amelia considered the question for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Ask Yale.’

Bernice cast a glance in the direction of the driver’s cabin. Her pale-blue eyes were caught in a flash from one of the passing overhead lights and Amelia could see the reluctance shining there.

‘Perhaps I’ll ask him tomorrow,’ Bernice decided.

Amelia nodded, as though the conversation was finished. ‘Go to sleep now, Bernice. We have a lot of travelling to do and we’ll all be taking turns behind the wheel before we get there.’ She pulled the quilt back over her face, closing her eyes firmly shut.

‘Where is it?’

Amelia chewed on her lower lip, resisting the urge to be rude. ‘Scotland.’ She didn’t bother to open her eyes.

There was a moment’s silence and Amelia wondered if the woman had returned to her bunk.

‘Whereabouts in Scotland?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not a fucking a road map and I’ve not got a satnav under here. What do you want, an Ordnance Survey reference number?’ Amelia kept her voice low as she hissed the irritable rebuke. With less venom in her voice, she asked, ‘Why don’t you go to bed and go to sleep?’

‘I’m not tired.’

With her teeth gritted, Amelia said, ‘I am.’ She wished she could have taken back the words as soon as she said them. She had opened her eyes in time to see the flash of hurt catch in Bernice’s eyes but by then it was too late. The knowledge that she had upset her rekindled the embers of Amelia’s sexual excitement. She had wanted to simply go to sleep but now there were other courses of action open to her. Bernice was young and vulnerable and easily hurt. All of those things aroused a sadistic passion in Amelia’s heart.

Bernice had turned her back. Her shoulders were slumped in a posture of defeat. Thinking back to their modelling sessions, Amelia realised it was the way the woman looked after she had been properly whipped. With that thought, the glowing heat of her arousal began to burn.

‘Is something troubling you, Bernice?’ she asked.

The question came out as though Amelia was now sympathetic and understanding. It was a difficult façade for her to maintain but Amelia didn’t plan on keeping up the deception for too long.

Bernice returned to the side of her bunk with a weak smile. Her eyes were wide and innocent, shining with the threat of tears that she quickly blinked away. She stared hopefully at Amelia. ‘You’ll think I’m stupid,’ Bernice began.

Amelia shrugged and sat up in her bunk. ‘Then I won’t have to change my opinion of you.’ She watched as Bernice worked out the insult, and then gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Just joking.’ In the poor light of the travelling motor home, Amelia knew the malicious glint of her hazel eyes would be hidden.

‘I don’t like to sleep alone,’ Bernice explained quietly. ‘I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know I sound like a stupid, foolish kid but …’

Amelia placed a finger against the woman’s lips, silencing her. She wore a wicked smile that was concealed by the shadows. Even if she hadn’t been wet with the remainder of Yale’s seed, she knew her pussy lips would now be dripping with arousal as she listened to Bernice’s frightened voice. Keeping the malevolence from her words she asked, ‘Would you like to join me for a while?’ She raised the quilt invitingly, allowing Bernice to catch a glimpse of her naked body.

‘I won’t disturb you,’ Bernice assured her, putting a hand on the side of the bunk as she prepared to climb in. ‘I don’t kick or wriggle or make a lot of noise.’

‘Perhaps you might if I do the right things,’ Amelia replied.