To Be the Best (32 page)

At thirty-five, Jonathan bore a strong resemblance to his grandfather, Arthur Ainsley, who had been Emma’s second husband. He had inherited Arthur’s blond hair and colouring, his light eyes, his polished, rather refined good looks, and like Arthur he was tall, slender, extremely English in his appearance. If anything, he looked better than he ever had. He had aged well and knew it.

But fair and handsome though he was, Jonathan’s character had changed little in the decade that had passed. He was as devious and as manipulative as ever, and despite his unquestioned success he was profoundly bitter about his ousting from Harte Enterprises. Nevertheless, he was able to camouflage his innermost feelings behind a façade that was a combination of his own natural blandness, an inscrutability learned from his Chinese friends, and a manner that was insouciant and charming.

He glanced at the paper-thin Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. It was not quite seven. He had to leave in a few minutes. But within half an hour he would be arriving at Susan’s house in Recluse Bay. And, finally, meeting the mysterious lady she had found for him.

As he hurried out of the bedroom and ran down the stairs
he grinned. He hoped she lived up to Susan’s description, hoped she was indeed perfect. But if she was not, no matter. He would date her a couple of times anyway, and see what happened. Besides, she was obviously a newcomer to Hong Kong.
A stranger.
And strangers were always fascinating, weren’t they?

He spotted her at once.

She stood at the far end of the living room, just near the French doors leading out to the terrace, talking to Elwin Sorrell, Susan’s American banker husband.

He hesitated on the threshold for a moment before going in, scrutinizing her intently. Her face was in profile and in the shadows, and it was difficult to ascertain whether she was beautiful or not.

And then suddenly Susan saw him and glided over to greet him, and he thought again, as he had so often in the past, how beautiful
she
was. Her red hair was like an aureole of bright amber light around her lovely tranquil face, and her eyes were vividly blue tonight, full of her irrepressible laughter.

‘Jonny darling,’ she exclaimed as she closed in on him, ‘I was just beginning to wonder where you were.’

She lifted her face to be kissed. He pecked her cheek quickly, perfunctorily, but squeezed her arm in a more intimate fashion. ‘I’m only a few minutes late,’ he said. Dropping his voice, he whispered, ‘Can’t you find a way to meet me one afternoon at the flat? Or at my office? We can be just as private there. I’ve missed you.’

She shook her head rapidly, looked around the room, smiling brightly. ‘I daren’t,’ she muttered as she brought her gaze back to him. Tucking her arm through his, she laughed gaily, said in her normal voice, ‘By the way, Jonathan, I forgot to mention that Elwin and I are going to San Francisco the day after tomorrow. For a couple of months. That’s the real reason for tonight’s dinner party. A sort of farewell get together with a few of our favourite people.’

‘We’ll all miss you,’ Jonathan said, following her cue,
aware that several of the other guests were looking across at them.

One of the Chinese houseboys came up to him with a tray of champagne, and he took a glass, murmured his thanks, turned to Susan. ‘Cheers,’ he said as he took a sip. ‘Now, tell me about the mystery lady. That’s her, isn’t it, talking to Elwin in the doorway?’

‘Yes, but I can’t tell you much, because I don’t know her well. I’ve only met her once, at Betsy Androtti’s house last week. I was instantly struck by her. She’s extremely attractive, charming, well turned out, and intelligent. Naturally I thought of you immediately.’

‘You used the word
perfect
on the phone.’

‘I think she
is
perfect. For you at any rate. There’s something about her that will appeal to you tremendously.’ Susan paused, gave him an appraising stare. ‘I
do
know you very well, you know, Jonny.’

His mouth twitched with sudden hidden laughter, and he asked, ‘Didn’t Betsy give you
any
information about her?’

‘Betsy doesn’t know her either. She came to the dinner with some visiting banker. German, I think. And seemingly
he
met her last summer in the south of France. Or was it Sardinia? Oh dear, I’m not sure.’

‘So she’s truly the mystery lady, eh?’

Susan laughed. ‘I suppose she is. On the other hand, that makes it more fun, doesn’t it? And anyway, a stranger in our tight little group is always rather fascinating, elicits a great deal of curiosity, wouldn’t you say?’ She eyed him knowingly, and not giving him a chance to respond, rushed on, ‘Some of the single men are bound to be interested in her. That’s why I wanted to nab her at once for this dinner. And for my darling Jonny.’

‘How very thoughtful of you.’ He stared at her speculatively for a split second, then murmured sotto voce, ‘I’d much rather have you though.’

‘But I’m married, Jonny,’ she shot back softly, her tone as low as his had been. ‘To Elwin. And I always shall be married to him.’

‘I wasn’t proposing to you. Merely propositioning you, my love.’

Looking highly amused at his retort, she shook her head, but did not comment.

Jonathan went on, ‘Anyway, what’s the mystery lady doing in Hong Kong? Seeing the sights? Or what?’

‘She’s living here now. She told me she’s opened a small antique shop and gallery on Hollywood Road.’

‘Oh really!’ he exclaimed, pricking up his ears, looking at Susan alertly. ‘What kind of antiques?’

‘Jade, I think. I got the impression she’s an expert. That’s another reason I thought the two of you would hit it off. So come along, my darling, don’t let’s loiter here in the doorway. Let me take you over to meet her. After all, that’s why I invited her to this dinner in the first place. For you. Before any of the other young blades could scoop her up and carry her off.’

‘Lead the way,’ he said, following his hostess – and former lover – across the room.

Elwin Sorrell’s face lit up at the sight of Jonathan. They were good friends and Jonathan was convinced the American had never ever once suspected him of a dalliance with his wife.

The two men greeted each other warmly, and then Susan said, ‘Arabella, I’d like to introduce Jonathan Ainsley. Jonathan, this is Arabella Sutton.’

‘Hello,’ she said, stretching out her hand. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you.’

He took her hand, shook it, half smiled. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, too, Arabella.’ He paused, then added, ‘You’re English.’

‘Yes.’

They stared at each other, weighing each other up.

She had silver-gilt hair, parted in the centre, that was absolutely straight and fell in smooth fluid folds around her face and down her back to the top of her shoulder blades. Her face was extremely pale, without a spot of colour in the cheeks. It looked carved from alabaster, the features cleanly defined. She had a narrow nose, high cheekbones, a rounded chin with a cleft, and her mouth, wide, sensual, was painted brilliant red. At first glance this was startling in the very white face, yet somehow it was right on her. A young woman of medium height, and slender, she was dressed in an elegant white silk dress that screamed Paris and haute couture to his discerning eye.

Thirty, thirty-two, or thereabouts, Jonathan thought, and decided her looks were more interesting than beautiful. It was her eyes that held him. They were large, curiously elongated, almost, but not quite, almond shaped. Dark as pitch, they seemed bottomless.

Arabella was studying Jonathan as intently as he was her.

She had heard a lot about him, knew he was from a famous family, the grandson of the legendary Emma Harte. She had not expected him to be so prepossessing though. His blond good looks were arresting. He was well groomed, expensively dressed, and he had an air about him – something special yet indefinable. And then she realized that it
was
definable. He had the air of a man who was accustomed to authority and power and money, and the things money bought.

She liked what she saw.

So did Jonathan.

Susan said, ‘Why don’t you two get better acquainted? Come along, Elwin, let’s mingle with our other guests.’

Suddenly Arabella and Jonathan found themselves standing alone. He put one hand under her elbow and guided her out to the empty terrace. He said, ‘That’s the most extraordinary piece you’re wearing, Arabella.’

She looked down at the large carved jade pendant hanging on a string of carved jade beads. ‘It’s of the Daoguang period,’ she told him. ‘Very, very old.’

‘I realize that. Susan told me you have an antique shop, that you’re a dealer in jade.’

‘Yes, jadite jewellery and nefrite carved pieces.’

He smiled inwardly, immediately noting the way she had made the distinction between the two types of jade, something only a real expert would do. He said, ‘Where do you find your jade? Do you buy it here in Hong Kong from other dealers? Or on the mainland?’

‘Both. I’ve been finding some wonderful things in Shanghai, especially jade jewellery like this piece – ‘ She paused briefly, fingered the pendant. ‘ – And snuff bottles and vases. I came across some old nefrite belt buckles from the Qing period last week, and I’ve started to collect the multi-coloured Beijing glass. Mostly the deep yellow.’

‘Very clever of you, buying the glass, I mean. It’s become highly prized because it’s so difficult to craft. I’m interested in those nefrite belt buckles, by the way. I’d like to come over to your shop to look at them. Tomorrow perhaps?’

‘Oh, but I haven’t actually opened yet! I’ve been busy buying, collecting stock. My official opening is a week from this coming Monday.’ Noticing the disappointment registering on his face, she added, ‘Do come tomorrow. It’s still a bit of a mess, but I’d love to show you some of the truly rare objects of art I’ve managed to find in the last couple of months.’

‘I’d enjoy that, Arabella. Would you care to dine with me afterwards?’

There was only the merest hesitation on her part before she said, ‘Why yes, Jonathan. Thank you very much.’

He nodded. ‘Give me the address later, and I’ll be there about six.’ He shifted slightly on his feet, looked down at her. ‘I understand from Susan that you’re an expert in Chinese jades and antiques. Where did you actually study?’

‘Oh, I didn’t – I mean everything I know I sort of taught myself, and I’ve read a great deal. I also took several courses at Sotheby’s in London, at different times during the past three years.’ She shook her head, laughing. ‘But I’m hardly an expert. Just knowledgeable. And I hope I learn more here in Hong Kong.’

‘Oh you will. Indeed you will,’ he murmured, and averted his face.

‘Susan told me you have quite a collection of Chinese antiques yourself, Jonathan, including some marvellous bronzes.’

‘Yes, I do. Would you like to see them? We could go to my flat for drinks before dinner tomorrow. Would you enjoy that?’

‘It would be nice. Thanks.’

‘Where do you come from, Arabella?’ he asked suddenly, changing the subject.

‘Hampshire. My father’s a doctor. And you’re from Yorkshire, aren’t you?’

‘Among other places.’ Jonathan smiled thinly, put his hand under her elbow and ushered her into the living room. ‘I think we’d better join the others now, don’t you? I’ve not said hello to any of my friends yet. Besides, I mustn’t monopolize you.’

Arabella smiled up at him, thinking how easy this had been, much easier than she had anticipated. She felt a rush of success, allowed her eyes to linger on him for a brief moment. And then she drifted off to talk to Vance and Marion Campbell, whom she vaguely knew, and who had given her a lift to the dinner party. She was determined to leave with them at the end of the evening.

Susan had placed Arabella opposite Jonathan at the table, and he was able to study her surreptitiously throughout the dinner.

He was seated between Susan, who was at the head of the table to his left, and Marion Campbell, on his right. He paid enough attention to them both so as not to appear rude.

Mostly, though, he watched Arabella Sutton, and listened to her, and he was impressed in a variety of ways. He was captivated by her voice. It was husky, very beguiling. And her presence was hypnotic. Elwin seemed entranced, and so did Andy Jones, seated on her other side.

Jonathan noted how poised she was, and she was articulate, well informed on many subjects, not just Chinese art. He liked her intelligence, her sophistication. She had obviously travelled extensively, had done a good bit of living, and this pleased him. He did not care for women who were gauche or inexperienced whether in bed or out of it. He preferred women to be his equals. To match him.

The more Jonathan studied her the more he realized that she
was
beautiful. It was an unusual kind of beauty, different, intriguing. In the candlelight her face had become oddly mysterious, and highly sexual.

It was the perfect curve of the rounded cheek, the depth of the sloe eyes, the lusciousness of the full mouth, the silken sheen of the silver gold hair that made her such a sensual-looking woman. To him there was something exceedingly erotic about her, and the sexuality was not only visible in her face, and in the seemingly perfect body under the white gown, but was even apparent in her hands.

Jonathan had never seen hands like hers before. They were extraordinary. Slender, very white, with tapering fingers, and the long, perfect nails were painted brilliant red to match her inviting mouth.

He wanted those hands on him, wanted her. But thinking about seducing her was too tantalizing, anticipation too dangerous a game. And then, before he could switch gears in his head, he was aroused. Getting an erection at a dinner table had not happened to him since he had been a
schoolboy. How remarkable, he thought, feeling hot under the collar.

Shifting his gaze from the fascinating – and potent – Arabella, he brought his attention to Andy Jones, and began to talk to him about sport.

‘Why do you do it?’ Jonathan whispered in Susan’s ear as they strolled across the living room after dinner. They came to a stop near the fireplace, stood waiting for the Filipino butler to serve the coffee.