One Stolen Kiss (23 page)

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Authors: Lauren Boutain

BOOK: One Stolen Kiss
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“I suppose I’d better go find my latest protégée,” Derek admitted, and drained his drink. “Good Lord knows what she’s found to distract her in this menagerie.”


Maybe she’s trying on hats,” Adrik suggested. “According to Eileen she was hoping to rope in some willing models in order to show them all off to the guests.”


That would be a possibility. I’ll look upstairs. Maybe give her a ring first.” He took out his cell phone, and frowned at it. “Maybe find somewhere with a better signal for my network too. Damn. I have to check the London news sites before bedtime. Never miss a headline.”


Fascinating,” Adrik remarked. “Where was it you said you lived, in New York?”


What?” Derek glanced up from his phone, waving it around and trying to make a signal appear. “Rhode Island. East Hampton. You’d probably like it. You can have good privacy there – at a price.”


I would bet on it.”


Nice talking to you. And sorry again for the misunderstanding earlier.” Derek put his phone away to shake hands.


I’d already forgotten.” It was true. Adrik was too busy recalling other details about him. Which were now connecting up, like the joins on a gigantic spider’s web.


And do get in touch if you need anything.” Derek passed over his card. “Getting married is stressful. It will turn into a feeding frenzy if you don’t take charge early on.”


I’m already in charge,” Adrik reminded him.

Derek could only smile in return, as he walked away through the crowd.

* * * *


I think you should take my number,” Christie told Olga. “In case you need someone to talk to. As a friend. For if anything he’s telling you is making you paranoid.”


Of course, he says not to trust anyone…” Olga groaned, copying Christie’s number into her tiny cell phone and ringing it to send her own in exchange, before stashing it back into the other side of her bra. “But I think technically that should start with him.”

Christie was wishing she’d been able to open up to someone already, as Olga had done – when there was a sharp knock at the door.

“Olga,” said a voice outside.

The two women exchanged a horrified glance.

‘Derek,’
Olga mouthed silently.


I heard voices… who are you with?”


Just on the phone to my agent!” Olga shouted back.


Can I come in? I’d like to chat with her too. I think I could fix you up at a gig where you might bump into Harry again. Not literally, this time…”


One second!” The model put her hand on the flush, making desperate eyes at Christie. “Not decent yet!”

Christie looked around the bathroom – and her gaze was drawn to the narrow window and tiny Juliet balcony.

Okay – so it wouldn’t be the first occasion she had done this…

She turned back to Olga and waved her intention towards the impromptu exit, stepping out of her shoes, and tucking the skirt of her little black dress into the elastic of her panties to hold it in place.

Olga shook her head frantically.


I’ll be out in a minute, Derek!” she yelled. “I’ll see you downstairs!”


Are you sure you’re alone in there?” he answered, his tone disbelieving. “You recall what I said about loose tongues? Let me in.”


And have those tongues start wagging about me and you? No fear!”

Christie hurried around the tub to the balcony, peeked out of the window to check the route was clear to the lawn, and threw out her shoes first.

* * * *

Adrik stepped onto the terrace to ring Christie and track her down, but there was no reply. Other guests were being ushered indoors to Eileen’s ‘grand hall’ as she called her modest ballroom, which had been laid out for silver service dinner, and afterwards where the evening party and dancing was due to commence.

So it was only Adrik that heard the faint whistle as it echoed across the water. He glanced up from where he had begun to compose a text message, to where the yacht
Flint
was anchored, with its badly-behaved owner and his non-feathered companion for the day.

A fishing boat was alongside, and Consuèla had evidently been having company of her own. But both the housekeeper and the fisherman were currently standing on the upper deck of the yacht, waving their arms at Adrik on the terrace, flagging for his attention.

Frowning, he waved back – and they pointed above and behind him, towards the end of the house.

Adrik turned to look, and his heart dropped like a stone.

* * * *

Christie hopped onto the railing, stepped over to the far side, and lowered herself gradually to hang by her hands, trying not to let Derek’s aggravated banging on the door of the en suite hurry her along. Olga was swearing at him, yelling that she was now going to have to wash twice after flushing as she was so upset.

It was only one floor. Easy drop.

She looked down – and Adrik was looking up at her.

“Looks like I get to catch you this time,” he said.

Christie let go, and he did.

There was definitely no getting away.


Oh, God…” she said. “I know what this looks like… there’s a couple up there arguing. You can hear them. He thought she was with someone. Well, she was – me – but not in that way… you can search me. I haven’t stolen anything. I wasn’t running away. Except maybe from them…”


Searching you sounds like a good start.” Adrik deposited her on the ground, turned her to face the wall and placed her hands flat against it. “Feet apart. You know the drill.”

Christie submitted, wondering what else there was to say to explain herself, as he ran his hands over the dress.

“Interesting what you’ve done here,” he remarked, running a finger into the elastic of her panties, where her skirt was neatly caught up. “Could hide a few things in a makeshift pocket like that.”


I haven’t, okay? Not even my phone tucked in there. I threw it out of the window inside my shoe.”


That probably explains why you didn’t answer it when I rang.” He turned her around and looked into her eyes, while he finished exploring the creases and potential places of concealment in the silky material. She was glad, as it meant she could see that he was listening to the ongoing shouting match through the open window above them, between Olga and the bathroom door. “I’m worried that this is a habit of yours. Climbing out of windows to escape people.”


Believe me – you would have too.” Christie sighed. “I’m sorry if I scared you, Adrik.”

His hands slowed down.

“When?” he asked quietly. “Just now?”

Christie gulped.

“Ever,” she replied.

His search stopped, and instead became an embrace. It only ended when there was the sound of what Christie guessed was most likely a Louboutin being thrown in stubbornness at an obstinately closed door.

“Are you keeping this dress on for dinner?” he enquired, and helped her tug the skirt free again. “I think I’ve brushed most of the dust off it, anyway.”


I don’t see why not. It’s done me well so far – unless you’ve found a hole in it.”


No holes,” he confirmed, and kissed her brow gently before taking her hand. “Let’s find your shoes and your phone.”


Thanks. And I’m sorry, again.” Christie’s heart was wrenching, wondering if Adrik would ever be able to trust her now.


Forget it,” he said. “I’ve met some creepy people myself today too. And there wasn’t a window near enough to jump out of.”

* * * *

They found they managed to enjoy themselves up to the point, quite late, when the party became a spontaneous parade of hats amongst the ladies and a drunken dance-off between Doug’s crew, the Sicilians and the Russians. Amicable and friendly though it was, Christie still felt as though you could cut the air with a knife, and Adrik seemed too preoccupied in his own thoughts to join in with any macho displays. Roksana and Paolo had left, both announcing exhaustion, and others had also departed by now, including Christie’s parents, a little overwhelmed by it all and to whom staying out late was mildly offensive to the rules of good social etiquette ingrained in them. To Christie’s relief, Olga and Derek had vanished directly after dinner.


Plan B’ was put into action, and they snuck off down to the jetty and untied one of the more innocuous wooden dinghies, rowing out a little way for some peace and quiet.


Just in time,” Adrik remarked, as a much larger motor-launch crept up upon the pier. “Looks like the nudist tourists are going to try and gatecrash.”


I don’t think they’ll get past Doug’s security,” Christie replied, and giggled. “Unless they’ve got a really good hiding-place for their bribes…”

They drew alongside the
Flint
, where Xaviér was peacefully dozing, and Consuèla presumably asleep inside. Adrik stood up, carefully balancing, and slid a bottle of Cristal onto the bows. They had both signed it, agreeing that the poor girl deserved thanks for a whole day of uninterrupted
‘Puta’.

The oars were put aside and they lay back together in the bottom of the dinghy, drifting somewhere midway between the
Flint
and dry land, gazing up at the stars.


I thought we’d go for a drive in the morning,” Adrik suggested. “A bit of exploring.”


Sounds good.” Christie covered a yawn, and he surprised her by leaning over and kissing the back of her hand as she did so.


Don’t worry,” he grinned, and he snuggled up closer. “I won’t do anything to risk upsetting the boat.”


Doesn’t leave us with much,” she replied, with a rueful smile. He took out his phone and selected his Contacts list. “Don’t tell me you’ve got Lucas on speed-dial to give you advice in emergencies.”


Better,” he said, and tapped on a name before putting the phone to his ear. “Hello – Mario? It’s Adrik. Christie and I are out on the lake… would you? Excellent. Thank you.”


Who was that?” Christie queried, racking her brains to put a face to the name.


Wait,” was all he said.

There was a faint pop from somewhere behind the main house, and the sky suddenly lit up green, immediately followed by a shower of gold and then an explosion of blue. Almost as wondrous was the immediate chorus of ‘Oooohhh’ from the naked tourists’ motor-launch, anchored at a short distance.

“Sounds like it’s good enough compensation for them getting turned away from the party,” Adrik chuckled. “But I didn’t do it for them. This is for you.”


I love it,” Christie breathed, as spheres of red and pink shot outwards overhead, silver fountains of glitter at their centres. “Thank you, Adrik.”


I love it too.” He nuzzled against her, and kissed her temple. “And you’re welcome.”

Vaguely aware that they had both just said something similar to each other, but the unfamiliarity of the situation not allowing her to pin it down, Christie felt a fragile warmth settle in her heart area as she cuddled up against him. Adrik stroked her back, and kept to his promise about not upsetting the boat, while they watched the fireworks.

The noise of the bangers and screamers must have reached the revellers in the ballroom, because Christie heard a cheer go up, and the main house began to leak partygoers onto its many terraces, and out into the gardens.

She knew she had a journey ahead to prove to Adrik that he could trust her, and had no idea what damage she had done earlier, when he caught her – literally – climbing out of that upstairs window. Never mind what might have emerged when he was speaking to  Derek. She hadn’t dared to ask.

For the moment, though, hypnotised by a magical display, it was all forgotten.

* * * *

They slept well back in the annexe, following the exertions and stress of the day and the previous sleepless night, but chemistry and proximity ensured that they awoke very early. Each teased the other at first with a sweet intensity, until Adrik’s appetite was unbearable and he had to have her, sending her over the edge before claiming her with both his need and his kiss, finding a spot within that made the fireworks sparkle again for both of them. And this time they went to the shower together, and the coffee had to wait afterwards while he did what he had wanted to before, taking her back to bed until he knew every inch of her body, what set her on fire and what would make her beg and plead for him to take her completely.

They lay entwined together in the aftermath, unable to tear themselves apart, every soft kiss or caress of a fingertip the touch-paper that would start things afresh.

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