Tall Poppies (33 page)

Nina dropped her head so he wouldn’t see the look on her face. He was grinning, teasing her, but she didn’t feel like laughing. A big wave of loneliness and loss rolled right over her. It dawned on her like a flash of lightning, what a lifeline Harry had been out here, how she was already relying on him, how fucking miserable it was going to be without him. Yesterday she’d wanted him gone, and’now he was going, so why wasn’t she thrilled?

Namath walked up to her and cupped her chin in his hands, gently tipping her face up to his. She looked so beautiful, trying to be polished but rushed instead. Her hair was damp. He breathed in the faint scent of her shower gel. Desire and frustration clamoured inside him, he felt himself stiffen just from getting close to her. He wanted Nina so much. When she’d pushed him away the other night he’d fouid it hard to sleep. Yesterday evening he’d picked up a tourist in a bar, gone back to her hotel and banged her mercilessly, but it hadn’t helped. A one night stand wouldn’t do it any more.

‘Like I’ll miss a migraine,’ Nina smiled weakly. She knew she should prise his hands off her face, but she didn’t move.

‘I guess I’ll see you in a month.’ Harry was still looking

right into her eyes. ‘Do I get a goodbye kiss?’

‘Do you want one?’ Nina whispered.

Harry looked at her for a second. Then he bent his’

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head, very slowly, touched his lips on hers, just brushing them, lightly, drily, an echo of a kiss.

‘Is that it?’ Nina whispered. Harry was hovering there, his mouth close to hers, she could feel the heat of him, hear his breathing. Lust crashed over her like a wave, and she couldn’t stand it, she lifted herself up to him, pressing her lips against his. Harry pulled her to him, kissing her over and over, biting, licking the inside of her lip, kissing her neck wildly, his hands movingup to her hair, tousling it, not giving her time to think.

‘God, you’re so lovely,’ he murmured.

Nina felt her knees give. She was arching against him, totally, helplessly responsive. His fingers flickered at her waist and then his hand was on her, pulling her shirt out,

, his palm moving upwards to the wire and lace of her bra,

brushing over her nipples.

God … Nina gasped. She felt a sharper tug of lust shoot right down her body.

‘Baby.’ He was cupping her breasts now, groaning softly with pleasure, his thumbs stroking, just the right pressure. Nina forgot about telling him to stop. She couldn’t say a word. A spasm of pleasure exploded across her groin, she felt herself moisten, he was almost too slow, she wanted this, needed it now, and there was none of that squirmy, ugly undertone she felt with Tony, it was real straightforward.

Harry’s other hand slipped down from her waist, past the tweed and gilt buttons and up her skirt. He was tugging the silken waistband of her hose, twitching off her panties. Tony’s due at ten, what if he’s early? flashed through Nina’s mind but then right out again. She felt herself part her legs slightly, involuntarily, and then his hand was on her, covering her, two fingers tracing the slickness, unbearably softly, Harry’s breathing rough and unsteady, and then he pressed his whole hand on her and she shook, a light, sweet orgasm rippling through her.

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Nina’s cry was muffled by his kiss, her legs gave, she was dizzy from the pleasure of it but still hungry, still tight with desire. They collapsed backwards on to something, the sofa, Harry pulling her up almost harshly, climbing on top of her, lying against her still dressed, kissing her,

his fingers darting over gilt and silk.

‘You flight …’

‘Screw my flight. I’ll get the next one.’

‘We can’t,’ Nina managed.

Harry bent his dark head to her ear and shoved himself against her. He was hard, really hard and thick. Nina felt herself move against him, beneath him, she couldn’t think straight, she felt an animal longing to have that in her, filling her, plugging her.

‘How wrong you are,’ Harry said, and then his hands tightened round her again, circling her waist, lifting her up as easily as a rag doll, flipping her on to her stomach. Nina turned her head around, sooty hair tumbling in a thick curtain over her face, to see him unstrapping his belt, dragging the shirt over his head, tearing at his jeans. His chest was paler than his face, smattered with wiry curls, the muscles wonderful, tight but not huge, natural and perfect. His powerful thighs pinned her legs down, she felt denim brush the back of her thighs as he threw off his jeans. Nina’s stomach clenched with longing. Harry grabbed the hem of her thousand-dollar skirt and shoved it unceremoniously up round her waist, exposing her butt, the lean, tapering line at the back of her thighs, Nina’s rounded softness. She inhaled sharply and pushed up on her elbows. Harry wanted to shout out loud from the glory of it, how perfect she was, he could almost see the blood rushing to his cock, he was so hard for her now it hurt. His fingers trembled a little as he unsnapped her bra. In the gilt mirror opposite he saw her, totally disarrayed, her face flushed with heat, her incredible breasts lifting out from the unbuttoned shirt, the nipples

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dark and tight like black cherries in cream, tiny waist and round ass lifted towards him. So many girls these days didn’t eat. Harry had taken a few home, gotten them undressed and found an ironing-board backside, sexless and boring. But Nina, his Nina, she was all girl, the way her ass flared out from that tiny waist, goddamn …

He had to get inside her or he was gonna come. As gently as he could he made to open her thighs, but Nina thrust back, impatient, she wanted it too, and Harry pushed in and took her, first time, right there, feeling her tight and hot around him, moving with him, urgently …

‘You like that?’ Harry whispered. Nina’s breath came

in sobs, she could feel every thrust, she could see herself in the mirror, Harry moving behind her, taking her, his hands gentle on her tits but still teasing, moving over them so that the intensity of the thrill spread right across her body, a neon web, lighting up wherever he touched her now, even her legs where his thighs were pinning them down, her back when his chest rubbed against it, wiry hair brushing her spine and making that wall of

lleasure bigger and closer.

‘Yeah …’

‘You know, this is how we used to make love. Humans.’ Harry was talking low and fast because he found it hard to breathe. His arousal poured over Nina’s skin like a caress, like downy kisses. Every atom of her

felt suffused. ‘It’s the best way.’

‘Why?’ Nina choked.

Harry thrust again, picking up the pace, going harder

and faster. Perfect rhythm. Slamming into her.

‘Because it goes in deeper.’ His breath was hot on her

ear, he felt hot blood surging into her belly, she was pressing back into him, writhing under his touch, abandoned, God, she was passionate, she was so beautiful. He pushed again. ‘Like that.’

‘Harry!’ Nina said, and there was a note under the

heat, something strange, almost sad, but she wanted it because she was moving with him, Harry felt sex overwhelming him, Nina grabbed his hand and grabbed it to her mouth, kissing it, he felt her tighten and stiffen, saw her eyes close and her lips part …

Nina couldn’t think or move, the pleasure, the wanting was so huge now and she felt the sweet pressure filling her and blocking her, like a tidal wave rearing up, building, and then Harry’s arms were hooking under her armpits and pulling her closer and he was taking her stronger and harder and the wall exploded, white light behind her eyes, and she came, sobbing out his name.

Harry’s orgasm burst from him like Nina had ripped it out of his heart. Which maybe she had. He collapsed against her, relaxed and perfectly happy. He wanted to stay there for ever.

‘You’ve got to leave,’ Nina panted.

Harry rached over and kissed the side of her neck. She was warm, soaked with sweat.

‘Really,’ Nina insisted. She pulled her clothes away from him, got unsteadily to her feet. Namath stared at

her; black hair was falling over her pretty face.

‘Is that all I get?’

‘It was great,’ Nina said softly. She padded over to him with her shoes in her arms and kissed the top of his head, but reticently. She’s holding something back, Harry thought uneasily. ‘But really, I have a meeting, and I can’t wear this.’

‘We’ll do this again; When you get to London.’ ‘Sure.’ Nina dashed round, picking up her stuff, as Harry pulled his clothes back on. ‘Look, you can still make your flight … call me when you find a place.’

She pecked him on the cheek as he left. Taken aback, Harry found he was standing in her hallway, his sneakers unlaced.

‘Gee, thanks for stopping by,’ he muttered.

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Nina waited until she heard Harry’s footsteps on the stairs. Then she sat down weakly on the floor and started to cry.

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Tony stepped into Nina’s apartment with a smile. He enjoyed travel. Flights in first-class were never too dreadful; Mrs Perkins organised his drivers, hotels and suites with military efficiency, he was always checked in automatically, and grovelling staff greeted him wherever he went. That hardly registered; the earl barely thought of them as people at all, they were part of the wallpaper. What he enjoyed was the barometer his travels gave him. How he was doing. What the rumours were this week. Each flight involved some waiting in a VIP area, some mingling with other first-class travellers when one boarded, usually last, and the common or garden businessmen filed past. Tony pretended supreme indifference to the whispers, the recurrent glances and nudges, the occasional obvious stare. But he loved it. They reacted to him like schoolboys to a football striker, drama-group actors in front of Robert de Niro. He’d noticed it gradually, years ago, as his empire started to build and his strings quietly startedto jerk. It got more pronounced as Dragon took off, building to a crescendo as he became England’s foremost takeover shark. When Jay DeFries was ruined and dragged off to jail, perversely, the whispering stopped for a short while. They were too scared to say anything at all. He sometimes thought he’d enjoyed that period most of all.

Today, of course, he was famous. The Helmers buyout had been concluded last week, a perfect hostile raid that left the stock in Tony’s hands and the chairman in tears,.

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or so the City whispers had it. On this morning’s low-key flight they had chattered like starlings. Lowered voices, naturally, and pretend-casual looks in his direction, but it was wonderful, the sense of jealousy and curiosity all those losers were giving off. Satisfaction had lined his stomach as pleasantly as the warm croissants and coffee he’d breakfasted on. If they thought he had it good now, Tony wondered, what on earth would they say once the latest newsletter went to the number-crunchers?

Nina’s find was looking exceptionally promising. He’d called Lilly Hall in for a meeting; frightful harridan, but she knew what she was about. The photographs of slim mice and svelte monkeys were exquisitely dramatic. Human trials would take a long time. It was hard to get permission to experiment on human beings in the West, which was nonsense, of course, how could science ever improve that way? Tony reflected calmly on his methods of avoiding that problem. Quiet little research centres in Africa and South America, where indigent adults would fight each other for the chance to earn twenty US bucks a day. And to think, they’d all get slim as well. Whilst the real beauty of the thing was that Nina’s reorganisation of his research divisions would prop up the share price all by itself. Delicious rumours of his new bombshell would leak out, and then, by God, it was open season. Dragon Inc. would be on automatic pilot to the stars, and he, Tony Savage, would be lifted along with it into orbit.

Tony was tired of being a big fish in a small pond. He was an hereditary peer, and since the Queen had legendarily proclaimed there were to be no more dukedoms created - apparently she was very relieved when Churchill turned down the chance to be Duke of London - he wasn’t likely to get bumped up, a gong could have no meaning. He had a perfect social life, the respect, or better, the fear of his fellows. Charles and Richard were shaping up nicely, Monica was an as’set. There was no

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further to go in the UK, he needed to set his sights a little higher. In the States he’d still be a minor figure, not like those slick bastards Hanson and White, or the half-Frog Sir James Goldsmith. And that was what Tony desperately wanted. Success on a global scale. He wanted to hear that muttering at other airports besides Heathrow. Hanson, White and Goldsmith were up there with the oil owners and the finance boys like George Soros. There were only a couple of hundred men like that, it was the world’s most powerful and exclusive club. Tony hungered for admittance. And he felt he was just about on the brink of it.

Nina’s grace-and-favour company flat. White and gold, modern and automated. He’d been here before years ago but forgotten all about it. She was probably overwhelmed by the luxury of it, Tony thought. She has no idea ˘hat she’s doing for Dragon. Not the first clue what she really deserves.

‘My dear girl, you look wonderful,’ he said warmly. She did. His dick was stirring pleasantly right off the bat; Nina Roth wearing a fluid suit in creamy pink, the colour picking out the lush blackness of her hair and the purity of her pale skin. Tony’s experienced eye identified the cut, that was a Ralph Lauren, one of her more demure numbers. It hovered just below the knee and buttoned up past her magnificent cleavage. He. grinned. So unlike Nina to be prudish. Her make-up was minimal, a little blusher on the sharp cheekbones and a clover lip-gloss. Tony breathed in but scented nb per.fume. How amusing, she was being so businesslike. It was almost as if he hadn’t fucked her.

‘Thank you. I hope you had a good flight?’

‘Quite acceptable, darling, thank you.’

‘Great …’ Nina pushed a stray lock of hair out of her dark eyes. ‘Shall we get right to it?’