The Maestro's Mistress (13 page)

A terrible silence filled the
room.

Wife. Saul’s wife. Tara felt a
physical breath-crushing shock. Her brain began to race like a fleeing
panic-stricken animal which senses danger on all sides. She stared up at him.
‘You’ve just committed adultery. And so have I!’

Her body became chilled and icy.
She began feverishly burrowing amongst the heap of clothes beside the bed,
tugging out what was hers and pulling them on with trembling fingers.

Making love with another woman’s
husband. How tawdry. How cheap. How
despicable.
Oh God!

Unable to bear being in the same
room with him for another instant, she flew across the hall and into the
bathroom, trying to blot out the terrible reality of what had happened. The
room dipped and swam before her eyes and her stomach lurched. She ran to the
sink and vomited violently into the basin, her whole body shaking.

As she hung over the bowl she
heard him come up behind her, saw his hand reaching in front of her to turn on
the tap and swirl the nastiness away. His firm strong arms brushed hers and
against the depth of her will Tara felt a fresh shaft of desire darting through
her with white heat.

She heard his voice. ‘Tara—‘

‘Don’t!’ she moaned. ‘Don’t say
anything. Don’t do anything.’ She wanted him to cease to be a presence in her
house.  She wanted him to cease existing in her brain, for the memory of him to
be erased and expunged forever.

He grasped her, his fingers
digging deep into the soft flesh of her upper arms. ‘Listen to me – I am no
womanizer. No adulterer either. If only you knew the truth of it, Tara,’ he
said bitterly.

She stayed silent, her whole body
stiff and unyielding.

‘My marriage is dead,’ he told
her. ‘I shall deal with whatever needs to be done and then we can be together.’

His cold and ruthless
decisiveness appalled her. ‘Get rid of your wife you mean?’ she said with icy
derision. ‘You must have a heart of granite and an ego the size of the Albert
Hall. What makes you think I would even give a second’s thought to being a
party to all that?’

‘Because now that I’ve tasted the
first delights of making love to you, I shall make sure that you do.  And I’ve
no intention of letting you slip through my fingers.’ Those fingers now
tightened on her, the pressure remorseless. ‘And you won’t be able to help
yourself.’

She looked up and saw his face
reflected in the mirror above the basin. She shivered, seeing the hard
relentless purpose in his eyes.  She knew that he meant what he said. And that
he was used to getting his way in all things. She would need the strength of
Hercules to resist, on that score alone.

His eyes held hers in the glass
and she winced as the pressure of his fingers slowly increased, digging deep.
She bit her lip and tasted blood. ‘Get out!’ she said slowly and deliberately.
‘Get out now!’

He released her.

She tensed, wondering if he would
sweep aside her resistance and take her by force. A part of her urgently wanted
that and she felt a wave of sickening disgust. There was a breathless moment of
stillness and then he stepped back from her. She heard his footsteps on the
stairs, heard the front door open and then close firmly.

Flying back into the bedroom she
watched the tall figure walk down the road to the low sleek car.

He did not turn to look back.

CHAPTER
10

Georgiana paced up and down her
bedroom like a caged tiger. On the floor were several items of designer
luggage, partly packed.

Alicia, armed with a large gin
and tonic and a long slender cigar, rifled through the contents of Georgiana’s
wardrobe, eyeing them speculatively whilst at the same time keeping watch on
her friend about whom she was more than a little concerned.

Georgiana kept insisting that
nothing was wrong, that she was merely restless and excited at the prospect of
flying off for a marvellous holiday on the Caribbean island of St Lucia. Lithe
and elegant in a turquoise silk shirt and white designer jeans, she paused by
her dressing table and fingered a long rope of pearls whilst exclaiming that it
would so gorgeously warm and sunny at this time of year. She would get a fabulous
pale golden tan. Xavier always said she was at her most beautiful with just a
touch of extra gold about her.

The more she protested the more
certain Alicia was that something extremely serious was wrong.

‘What about your therapy
sessions?’ she asked Georgiana. ‘Won’t you miss them – and that sexy doctor?’ Alicia
sometimes picked Georgiana up in her car at the close of her sessions with Dr
Denton. She had spotted the doctor briefly on one or two occasions, noting his
clean cut good looks and his knowing eyes, and had wondered how long a female
patient would be able to resist him. Although thinking it over she had then
wondered about her friend’s capacity for falling in love.

‘Yes, I shall miss the sessions,’
Georgiana admitted. ‘I’ve got used to them.’

‘Well, a break might be no bad
thing,’ Alicia remarked. ‘In fact I’m surprised you’ve stuck to it so long.’

‘Xavier wanted me to,’ Georgiana
said simply.

Alicia laughed. ‘Since when did
you do things because Xavier decreed it?’

‘I take notice of what he says.
I’ve always valued his advice. You know that.’

‘Has it really made things any
better? All that stream of consciousness stuff?’ Alicia screwed her eyes up
against the smoke from her cigar as she watched Georgiana’s reaction carefully.

She shrugged. ‘On balance – I
think so.’

Alicia was pretty sure that
whatever else the therapy had done it hadn’t got Georgiana back in the sack
with Xavier. She was frequently dying to ask directly but something in
Georgiana’s manner when the subject was touched on always restrained her.

‘So you’ll go back for more when
you’re in London again?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Shall I keep an eye on Xavier
whilst you’re away?’ Alicia enquired. ‘I’ve got one or two little dinners
coming up.’

‘You can invite him by all means.
But he’s frightfully busy. Since he took over at the Tudor Phil he’s hardly a
spare minute.’ Georgiana’s lovely features were temporarily distorted with a
touch of peevishness.

The phone pealed out. Georgiana
gave a little start. It rang twice and then stopped. A few moments later it
rang again. Georgiana stared at the instrument, making no move to pick it up.

Alicia watched her with
curiosity. She looked at the phone. She looked back at Georgiana. She was
intrigued.

‘You answer it,’ Georgiana said.
‘I’m in no mood for chatting.’

Alicia picked up the phone. ‘Hello,’
she said in her lazy ripe voice.

‘Could I have Mr Saul  Xavier
please?’ It was a woman’s voice. A young woman – assertive but unmistakably
anxious. Alicia glanced towards Georgiana who had turned away and was now
fiddling about with the bottles on her dressing table.

‘Could you
have
Mr Xavier?
I shall have to ask his wife. I rather think he belongs to her,’ Alicia drawled
tantalizingly, enjoying herself. ‘Shall I ask her now - she’s right here?’

‘No! Could you tell me where I
can reach him, please – give me a number to contact him?’

Alicia was impressed. Such
persistence. She looked at Georgiana making an appeal with her eyes to indicate
Georgiana should take the call. Georgiana shook her head impatiently, turning
away.

‘I’m sure you’ll appreciate I
can’t give out his private number to all and sundry,’ Alicia said sweetly. ‘If
this is a business matter you could contact his agent.’

A pause. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ll do
that.’

‘I presume you have the number?’

‘No – I haven’t.’

Of course not, Alicia thought.
Business matter my foot! ‘Maestro Xavier’s agent is Roland Grant. You’ll find
his details in the phone directory.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re very welcome!’ Alicia
replaced the receiver and drew deeply on the remains of her cigar.

‘Well?’ Georgiana asked.

‘I suspect that was one of the
delightful escorts you hired for Xavier. Obviously wanting more of the same –
of whatever he did to her,’ she added wickedly.

Georgian sank down on the bed,
her face chalky white.

‘Darling, I warned it was
dangerous,’ Alicia said gently. ‘It’s got to stop. You could lose him.’

‘No. NO! That will never happen.’
The agitation in Georgiana’s face was in direct opposition to the confidence
suggested in her words.

‘She’s phoned before, hasn’t she,
that young woman? You were expecting her?’

Georgiana flinched.

‘Come on sweetheart. Confide in
me. Use me. I’m your friend.’

‘No one has phoned. I just have
this feeling.’

‘About Xavier?’ Alicia demanded.

‘He’s never at home, always
working.’

‘Sounds like he’s behaving
normally.’

Georgiana’s wary blue eyes
sharpened with a curious mixture of bewilderment and calculation. ‘He’s
abstracted. He forgets things when you talk to him.’

Alicia took a sip of her drink.
That was definitely not like Xavier. He was always in total command. ‘You think
he’s fallen for one of these women? It’s hardly surprising. But don’t worry
he’ll soon come through it. After all they’re no more than high-class call
girls. Hardly Xavier’s style.’

Georgiana couldn’t help but
agree. But then Alicia did not know of Xavier’s cool cancelling of Georgiana’s
“gifts”. Alicia did not know that Xavier wanted nothing more to do with those
delightful girls she had hired for him. Only Dr Denton knew about that.

But not even Dr Denton knew that
Xavier had suggested to Georgiana that they had a trial separation, that maybe
in the circumstances it would be better to review their marriage from a
position of distance.
In the circumstances
he had said. She knew exactly
what he meant. His voice had been laced with deeply sexual meaning when he said
it. But he had made no move to take her in his arms this time.

A sudden terrible panic seized
her. Could he really just toss her aside? Surely not. No, she would never let
it happen. Never. She was only thirty-six and more beautiful than she had ever
been. He would never be able to let her go. It simply would not happen.

‘Have you any evidence that he’s
got another woman?’ Alicia enquired.

‘No,’ Georgiana replied
truthfully. But he must have, mustn’t he? There would be no other possible
reason for his wanting to change things between them. One of those girls must
have got her hooks into him. That must be why he wanted no further new gifts.

‘Look darling – it’s more than
likely that he hasn’t,’ Alicia reassured her. ‘He’s a workaholic and he’s
choosy, which narrows down both the opportunities and the field. Neither is he
a fool. This girl on the phone is almost certainly a one-night stand from the
agency, and she simply won’t be an issue as long as you play your cards right.’

Georgiana pressed her lips
together.

‘Things have to change,’ Alicia
told her. ‘Before it’s too late. And you can make them change sweetheart, you
really can.’

Georgiana stopped pacing. She
looked steadily at her friend, her eyes wide with a sense of foreboding.

‘You’ve got to start sleeping
with him again,’ Alicia said bluntly. ‘And if the idea still makes you wince,
knock back a few vodkas before he comes home.’

‘He doesn’t look at me any more,’
Georgiana complained. ‘Not…properly.’

‘He will, darling, if you’re on
that bed with your knickers off and your legs spread,’ Alicia said brutally.
‘There are very few men who wouldn’t.’

Alicia’s comment on male desire
was generalized to all available females but Georgiana interpreted it very
personally, knowing that no man would be able to resist her.

Revulsion passed over her perfect
features as she thought through the possible scenario with Xavier. She would
need more than a few vodkas. She would need to be anaesthetized.

She could not bear to lose him.
But could she bear to do
that
again, even to keep him?

CHAPTER
11

Tara felt like a new woman:
scarred, tainted and shabby.

Also bereft. The image of Saul Xavier’s
face was still lodged in her head for almost every waking minute. Constantly
she heard his voice and relived the sensation of his touch.

Listening to and playing music –
always a refuge before – now seemed like torture. She was always wondering how
he would have reacted to a certain piece, how they might have shared it
together.

Her appetite deserted her and her
firm ample flesh began to melt away. Bones appeared which she had never seen
before, little spikes at her hips and ribs like plate racks. But her breasts,
which she had always considered rather absurd and clearly designed for a bigger
girl altogether, stubbornly refused to change. If anything Tara thought they
were fuller than before, tender and slightly swollen, the nipples enlarged and
deep rosy pink.