SYNOPSIS A pair of black kid evening gloves that breathe new fire into as illicit romance; a daring date to a different kind of peep show; a music lesson with an inspirational teacher ...CHAPTER 1STACEY PLUMPED UP the pillows and leaned against the headboard. She could hear Ross moving around downstairs and guessed that he was preparing a special breakfast tray. She sighed. He tried, poor darling. But whatever he did she knew it would make no difference. They were in a rut. She still loved him, but the spark had gone. They were ... comfortable together. Cosy. Still, what could you expect after seven years of marriage? When the door opened and Ross came in, she pasted a smile on her face. After all, you were supposed to be happy on your birthday. He had placed a single scarlet rose next to the freshly Squeezed orange juice. There was a fresh peach, yoghurt with honey and toasted nuts, her favourite morning paper. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room. Ross tossed a b
‘THIS WAY, THE fire’s through here. Oh, do hurry.’ Julia clutched her long satin robe close, conscious that she wore only a few scraps of silk and lace beneath it. ‘Stand back, madam,’ the burly fireman said, putting out his arm to prevent her going back into the bedroom. ‘I'll soon deal with this.’ She stood on the threshold, watching him as he crossed the room. In an instant he had quenched the fire. He turned and looked at her, a grin creasing his boyish face. Julia’s pulses quickened. What a combination. That clean-cut face coupled with a big, obviously well-toned body was devastating. ‘All done. Not much damage at all. Good thing you contacted us so quickly. Looks like an electrical fault. I'd advise you to have all the wiring checked.’ ‘Yes. Thanks. I will,’ Julia said. ‘’m so grateful that you arrived promptly.’ ‘We were on our way back to the station. It’s the end of my night shift.' He glanced at his wrist-watch. ‘Actually I’m into free time now. My shift ended ten minut
‘WHERE'D YOU WANT it, love?’ Looking at the mirror again Josie wondered what had possessed her to buy it. Still, it had been a bargain for fifty quid. With that ornate gilt frame, all garlands, swags and cherubs, it had to be at least a hundred years old. It was so imposing, so ugly, that no one else had wanted it. Josie had found herself bidding when the price dropped. Somehow she had known that it was meant for her. ‘Well?’ the delivery man said, losing patience. ‘I haven't got all day. Which room? Up or down?’ For a moment Josie was nonplussed. She had not thought that far ahead. What was wrong with her? She was not given to making impulsive purchases. In fact, she was not impulsive at all - usually. It seemed to her then that she heard Sam’s voice - his tone of bored annoyance, one she remembered only too well. 'Where the hell did you get that monstrosity? Are you mad?’ That decided it. She felt a surge of mild rebellion. I'll do as I damn well like, she thought. ‘It can go
ROSE GAVE EMMA a lingering kiss, then fitted the key into the ornate front door. ‘See you in the morning then?’ she said, hoping that Emma would change her mind and stay in the house with her. Emma shuddered and pulled up the collar of her black leather jacket. She looked up at the pointed-arch windows that seemed to stare down atthe twowomen. - ‘It’s a bloody mausoleum. I’ve always hated this house.’ Her voice softened, became wheedling. She reached up to stroke Rose’s cheek. 'You don’t have to do this, you know. Come back to the flat with me.’ Rose grinned, enlivening her elfin face. ‘I never go back on a dare. You should know that by now.’ ‘I won't hold you to it. We were both drunk. What is it with you and this house, anyway?’ Rose shrugged, the mass ‘of striking red dreadlocks dancing around her shoulders. She opened the front door. “You keeping me company or what?’ Emma’s straight brows dipped in a frown. ‘Sod you then, if you won’t listen to sense. I’m off.’ She turned
‘SO, WHAT DO you do to combat executive stress? I love to go shopping myself. Nothing like anew outfit to give me a lift.’ The nasal voice of Linda the fashion editor floated into Anna’s office as she sat staring at the screen of her Apple Mac battling with a feature which would not come right. She pushed back her chair in frustration and began paying attention to the conversation outside. ‘I play squash. Sometimes treat myself to a facial or a leg wax.’ That was Corrina, deputy fashion editor. Both women in the corridor had recently joined the editing team of ‘Pzazz’ magazine, gaining the coveted jobs by calling in favours from high-ups in the trade. Squash? A leg wax? Shopping? God help us! Anna thought. Is that the best. they can come up with to fill their spare time? She had an impulse, quickly squashed, to go and tell them what she had planned for relaxation later in the day. How their perfectly made-up faces would go blank with disbelief. Cheered by the thought, Anna opened
AS I MOUNT the stairs the feeling begins, low in the pit of my stomach, a mixture of dread and anticipation. The porter carries my cello case into the room and places it by the window. I tell him to collect me in one hour. The room is empty — more than empty: bereft without you in it. I walk across it, my buttoned boots clicking on the bleached oak boards, and sit on the window seat, waiting. The afternoon light streams in through billowing muslin curtains. Outside in the street a breeze rustles the leaves of the plane trees. I stare at the buildings opposite, their wrought-iron balconies crowded with tubs of flowers - lilies, mimosa, roses. The white stucco is dazzling in the summer light. When the door to the studio opens, I do not look around immediately, wanting to suspend the moment until I see your face. When I turn, I see that you are not very remarkable. I know how you must seem to others, but you are large in my thoughts. Hair of mid-brown, a longish serious face, your fin
AS THE SMALL chartered plane began losing altitude, curving around in a graceful arc, Ruth Shepard leaned forward in her executive-class seat. Through breaks in the clouds she could see the ocean far below, a vast gleaming expanse of aquamarine. Ruth smoothed the skirt of her designer suit then glanced at the woman who sat next to her, an eye-mask covering the upper part of her face. Nancy Brogan, a high-up in a prestigious American design company, was snoring softly. She had been asleep since their conversation at the start of the journey. Ruth wished she was calm enough to doze, but her mind kept dwelling on what Nancy had said. When Ruth asked her if she had received a letter, Nancy had replied, ‘Sure. Mine came in the mail at my company office. I expect this is going to be another of those hare-brained schemes to hone my management skills. You would not believe the seminars and courses I’ve attended.’ She rolled her eyes and shrugged. ‘I just do as I’m told. He-who-must-beobeyed
‘But I’m supposed to find you! You made no mention of taking some kind of forfeit if you should find one of us first.’ ‘Didn’t I? I must have forgotten to mention it. But you didn’t seem exactly unwilling just now.’ Ruth prickled with mortification. Despite his arrogance she could not deny that she wanted him. She could feel the wetness on her inner thighs. An insistent throbbing was spreading from her clitoris up into her lower belly. How was it possible to desire a man so much when you disliked him intensely? “Oh, I get it now,’ she said. ‘This whole set-up is just for you. You get to seduce all of us in turn. We’re the quarry! The rite you mentioned is a load of rubbish!’ ‘Oh, the rite existed as I explained and I intend to honour my promise — if one of you runs me to ground. But you see, I just don’t think any of you are capable of doing so. The primal female energy no longer exists in the modern woman.’ ‘Don’t be too sure of that,’ Ruth said, drawing back as he bent over her
‘I'm off to bed,’ Harriet told Rowena. ‘It was a lovely evening.’ Rowena peered at her through the smoke of one of her rare cigarettes. ‘Did you enjoy it? You don’t look very happy.’ ‘I’m just tired. I’m not used to such late hours!’ ‘Have you seen my brother?’ ‘Chris went into the garden,’ Harriet told her. Rowena smiled. ‘He's drunk too much. I'll say goodnight to Lewis for you; he’s busy right now.’ The woman with her laughed. ‘He certainly is. Marita keeps most men busy. She nearly killed my husband last year!’ Rowena’s laughter joined her friend’s and Harriet fled upstairs, certain that they were secretly mocking her. She lay awake until six in the morning but Lewis didn’t join her, and she guessed then that the story must have been true and Marita had kept him busy. At first she wept, but then she told herself that crying was useless. A man like that was bound to be used to casual affairs — what she had to do was make herself indispensable to him, no matter what was nece
FOR THE NEXT two nights Lewis spent hours in either Harriet’s or his own room, bringing her time and again to the heights of ecstasy she had come to expect from him, and every time she climaxed, every time he taught her something new, she was bound more closely to him. The fact that he was slowly being bound more closely to her was something Lewis chose to ignore. Then, on the Saturday, everything changed. Harriet had been surprised to be invited to the dinner party, and had cancelled her planned evening with Ella because she didn’t want to miss the chance of a genuine film star’s party. Ella green with envy, had understood but demanded a full report in exchange for being let down. ‘I want to hear all about what Rowena wore, ate, drank and how she behaved,’ she told Harriet. ‘Of course. I'll tell you about Lewis too.’ ‘I’m sure you will,’ said Ella, who already had her suspicions about Harriet and the star's husband. When they finally sat down to dinner, Harriet found that she wa
Lewis’s own erection had now subsided but at the sight of Harriet being aroused to new and only dimly understood heights, he felt himself start to stir again. As the startling feelings continued to grow, Harriet’s breasts began to ache and after only a slight hesitation she reached up, drawing Lewis’s head down towards her. ‘Tell me what you want,’ he murmured. ‘My breasts,’ she moaned, thrusting them up towards his mouth. “They ache.’ ‘And what do you want me to do about it?’ he teased. Harriet didn’t know if she could tell him, but the insistent clamouring of her needy flesh won over her deeply ingrained reticence at vocalising her desires. ‘Suck them for me, Lewis, please.’ ‘Hard or soft?’ he asked, his hand still continuing its pressing movements and his finger drawing up the clitoral hood as he worked so that he could brush lightly across the top of the exposed nub. ‘Hard!’ she begged, her body now nothing but a pressurised aching need for the final stimuation that would a
THAT EVENING CHRIS and Rowena went to the opera. Lewis hated opera. ‘Good music spoilt by bad acting,’ was his opinion and nothing he saw ever made him change his mind. After they'd gone he went in search of Harriet and found her reading a book in the comfort of the drawingroom. ‘We've got the house to ourselves,’ he said with a smile. ‘How would you like a nice bath? We can use the tub in Rowena’s bathroom - it’s meant for two.’ Harriet lifted her eyes from the page. ‘I had a shower this morning, thanks.’ For a moment Lewis couldn’t believe he’d heard her correctly. “You don’t have to be dirty,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s meant to be a sensual pleasure.’ Harriet smiled in an absent-minded way. ‘I’m sure it would be, but I’m a bit tired tonight.’ Since nothing in his imaginary script had prepared Lewis for this he was totally at a loss. ‘I'd like it,’ he said slowly. ‘Doesn’t that matter to you?’ With a soft sigh Harriet put the book to one side. ‘Of course it does, Lewis, but
Harriet felt that she was going to explode. Her body was being racked by liquid fire and then the incessant drumming of the pulse between her legs changed to a startlingly intense tingling that felt hot and rushed upwards through her with terrifying speed. She shouted out loud, knowing that she could no longer keep her body still even to please this man who meant so much to her. At the sound Lewis moved his fingers to the side of her clitoris and rubbed the slippery tissue with tiny circular motions as he moved in and out of her, his own body straining for relief from the continuous sexual tension as much as Harriet’s. It was Harriet who came first and as her body went taut with the first fierce contractions of her orgasm her vaginal walls contracted tightly around Lewis so that she felt as though she was milking him. She heard him groan and then he was thrusting without thought for her, thrusting solely to give himself the satisfaction that he knew Harriet was about to get. Harri
LEWIS STARED AT Harriet, hiding his anger behind a mask of indifference. Inwardly he was raging, not only at the fact that she had come into the room uninvited but also at his own stupidity in allowing Rowena to persuade him to make love to her at a time when he should have been concentrating solely on Harriet. ‘Rowena will be with you in a moment,’ he said smoothly, his arousal dissipating at great speed. Harriet’s eyes were wide and she stared at her employer as Rowena, ignoring the younger woman's presence, continued to move herself up and down on Lewis until with a cry of pleasure her body gave itself over to the warm flooding joy of orgasm. Harriet knew that she should leave the room but her legs seemed unable to move. She stayed rooted to the spot watching Rowena’s total abandonment to her sexuality. She felt almost consumed by envy, having spent most of her waking hours imagining what her next sexual encounter with Lewis would be like. Now she was forced to face the fact tha
Harriet was shocked by his casual acceptance of what they’d seen. Rowena was his wife, and even an open marriage didn’t usually include letting your wife have sex with her half-brother. She decided he was simply good at hiding his emotions, and that this was the only way he could cope with the situation. She was wrong. Lewis was drawn to Rowena sexually; like most men he admired her body and found her sexual magnetism alluring, but emotionally he was untouched by her. Their marriage had suited him as much as it suited her. The joining together of his analytical, muchadmired director's brain and her renowned sexuality and beauty had attracted almost as much attention in Hollywood as Marilyn Monroe’s marriage to Arthur Miller. Looking into the bedroom again, Harriet realised that Rowena’s first priority didn’t seem to be freedom from her bonds so much as freedom from her frustration, for once she failed to loosen her wrists she got to her feet and stood in front of one of the bed-post
WHEN LEWIS LED Harriet into a tiny room two doors down the landing from his bedroom she thought first that she was in a cupboard, but as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness she realised that it had originally been intended as a dressing room, although the adjoining door had now been filled in. There was little furniture there, only a high backed chair and a two-seater settee in front of a square window, which let in no light at all. She turned to Lewis in bewilderment. ‘What is this room?’ ‘Sit here next to me on the sofa and look carefully at the window,’ he said softly. Puzzled, she stared at the glass, and after a few seconds realised that she was looking into a distinctly feminine bedroom lavishly decorated in various shades of lilac. As she watched, a figure crossed her line of vision, and she saw Rowena walking totally naked from her adjoining bathroom back to her bed. Harriet ducked down and Lewis laughed. ‘She can’t see you, it’s a two-way mirror.’ ‘You mean, anyone
Every nerve in Harriet’s body seemed to be alive now. She was trembling with excitement and frantic for more intimate touches but when she reached for his hand to try and move it where she wanted he shook his head. ‘It’s better to wait,’ he assured her. In the adjoining room Chris felt his own breathing quicken. Lewis was playing her with consummate skill, and her restlessly moving legs and upthrusting young breasts were testimony to her arousal. He himself was hard, and longed to be allowed to join in, to take the girl in the ways that he liked, the ways that kept Rowena enthralled. He was surprised by his reaction. Normally he would simply have wanted Rowena more than ever, but he knew that he was going to have to have Harriet before too long. At last Lewis took pity on Harriet and lightly kneaded some of the lotion into each of her breasts in turn. He heard her breath catch in her throat and her eyes were grateful. Then, to Harriet’s surprise, he moved himself up the bed so that