He stares at me, obviously stringing out the agony. Then, at last, he speaks. ‘Beth – much as I would have liked something to happen between us that night, I’m afraid that nothing did. I found you passed out and I’m not into unresponsive partners. I brought you up to the surface to revive you. What did you think happened?’
‘Nothing. I just had to be sure.’ A great surge of relief washes through me. My conscience is clear. I did nothing to jeopardise my relationship with Dominic. Thank goodness for that. Then I’m instantly filled with an awful sadness. If only I’d been able to say that to him when he begged me for the truth! Why hadn’t I asked Andrei sooner? It hadn’t been so bad after all. Oh my God, I’ve really messed up. How the hell am I going to make it right now?
I feel a wild impulse to call Dominic immediately and make him listen while I tell him the truth: that I’ve always been loyal to him in my heart, and now I know for sure that I’ve been utterly faithful in my body too. Of course it’s impossible to do it with Andrei here, listening and watching. I have to conceal my desperation and my eagerness to be home.
Just a few more hours and I’ll be free.
I look up and Andrei’s staring at me, those hooded eyes glittering darkly, almost hungrily, and a half smile on his lips. When he speaks, his voice is low, its harshness now velvety.
‘Something could happen now, if you want it to, Beth.’ He looks towards the back of the cabin. ‘Through that door there is a bedroom, equipped with a delightfully comfortable bed with silk sheets. We could go there now and I could show you that the reality is far beyond anything you can imagine.’
My eyes widen and my hands tighten in my lap. How did we get here?
He leans towards me and I catch the musky scent of his cologne. I feel suddenly like a defenceless creature being approached by a stealthy, slinking tiger, keeping me hypnotised by its rippling grace while it gets close enough to pounce.
‘I promise you, you would not regret it,’ he murmurs. At any moment, he’ll reach out and touch me. ‘Anything you’ve dreamed, anything you’ve enjoyed in your fantasy . . . you can have it now, if you want it.’
The treacherous image is in my mind immediately: it is Andrei’s broad naked back, my arms around it, my head thrown back as he makes love to me . . .
Oh my God, Beth, stop it! No, no, no. He’s trying to seduce me, I mustn’t listen to him. I know what I want, who I desire most in the world, and it isn’t Andrei.
‘Well?’
‘I . . .’ I shake my head. ‘No. I can’t.’ I return his gaze but it’s hard to meet his eye. I can’t conceal that I’m uncomfortable, frightened even.
There’s a pause and then he sighs. The electric charge in the air vanishes.
‘I can see from your expression that you’re nervous.’ He looks almost sad as he says it. ‘Don’t worry, whatever you might think of me, I’m not a rapist. I don’t get any kicks from unwilling women, believe me.’ His voice takes on a low intensity. ‘Beth, I want you to come to me full of desire, ripe and willing. And I’ll wait for that. All I ask is a chance.’
I stay silent, hoping that he won’t press me to say anything.
He sits back in the soft leather of his seat and regards me intently. ‘You want me to protect Mark. Very well. I will protect you both. Mark is an old friend, I value him and wish him only the best. Anything I can do to help him in his present trouble, I will. And from you, Beth . . . like I say, all I ask for is a chance. Will you give me that?’
A chance to make love to me? I can never do that. My heart is Dominic’s, my body is his too. Or does he mean a chance to spend time with me? I feel as though so much rides on my answer. He’s practically telling me that Mark is safe as long as I comply.
Just then the cabin door opens and a stewardess comes through. ‘Dinner is ready to be served, sir,’ she says cheerfully. ‘Please allow me to prepare your table.’
‘Of course.’ Andrei has not taken his eyes off me. Then he mouths, ‘A chance?’
I hesitate and then I nod once. What else can I do?
It’s very late by the time the car drops me off at my flat and the place is in darkness. Laura must have given up on seeing me hours ago and gone to bed. I let myself in, carrying my suitcase to keep its wheels from rolling on the floor and waking her up, and get myself off to bed, worrying about the pact I’ve somehow agreed with Andrei. He didn’t mention it again, and talked of other things as we ate our delicious meal. At the end of the journey, before we went our separate ways, he fixed me with one of those intense looks of his and said, ‘I’ll be in touch, Beth. I have a job for you.’
What the hell did that mean?
I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep. Thoughts are racing around my head. I need to find Dominic and tell him what I now know for sure: that nothing happened in the catacombs between Andrei and me. That means that it was definitely Dominic, a thought that fills me with warm relief. But first, I need to see Mark. He has to know what happened in St Petersburg.
At some point, my fervid mind must have relaxed and let me sleep because I wake up groggy when my alarm goes off at eight o’clock.
‘Morning!’ cries Laura from the kitchen as she hears me emerge from my room. ‘How was the trip?’
‘Great,’ I say, heading for the shower. ‘But I’m glad to be back.’
‘What was St Petersburg like?’
‘Amazing – I’d love to go back and visit properly. I only really saw it from the back of a car.’
‘I’m going to work now.’ Laura comes out of the kitchen, still munching a last mouthful of cereal. She’s smartly dressed and ready for her day. ‘We’ll catch up tonight, okay?’
‘Lovely. Have a great day.’ I watch her go enviously. Laura’s life sometimes seems very straightforward compared to mine: a normal job in a normal office. I know her work is hard and demanding but at least there aren’t the kinds of nasty surprises I’ve been having lately.
Once I’m dressed I wonder whether to go straight to the hospital and see Mark but I don’t want to disturb him too early, so I go first to his Belgravia home from where I’m going to be helping to run the business in his absence. His maid Gianna answers the door to let me in, and then Caroline comes stomping down the stairs.
‘Ah, Beth!’ she calls out. Her voice is so incredibly posh that my name comes out sounding more like ‘bath’ which makes me want to laugh. ‘How lovely to see you. How was the trip? Successful?’
‘Hello, Caroline. The trip was . . . interesting. I need to fill Mark in on the details.’
Her big pink face looks solemn. ‘I’m not sure whether that’s going to be possible, my dear.’
Anxiety rises up in me. ‘Is he all right? How was the operation?’
‘They’ve taken out the tumour, and they think it’s the primary, although they’re not absolutely sure. The trouble is that they’ve had to take out a chunk of his tongue too, and although they grafted on some flesh to patch it up, it’s left him in a great deal of pain and not able to speak – at least, not for a while.’
‘Oh, poor Mark!’
‘He’s very ill.’ Caroline looks quite grief-stricken for a moment then quickly covers it with a stoical expression. ‘But I’m sure he’ll pull through. He’s a tough one, you know. They want to treat him with radiation once he’s recovered from the op, to give him the best chance of recovery.’
‘I’d like to visit him.’
‘Not right now,’ Caroline says, shaking her head. ‘I don’t think it’s the right time. I know you’re keen to see him but he needs complete rest for a couple of days until he’s over the worst of this pain. And I don’t want him upset at all so try not to worry him, won’t you?’
I nod. ‘Of course. I want whatever’s best for Mark.’
‘Thank you, dear. We all do.’
Sitting in Mark’s beautiful circular office, I feel very low. He should be here at his impressive desk, laughing and joking as we go through the morning’s post together. It doesn’t feel right that I’m
the one in the walnut chair, slitting open envelopes with Mark’s engraved silver letter opener. There’s no way I can tell him that the painting is a fake, not now. He would be distraught, and I can’t risk that while he’s so ill.
I suddenly realise that I’m caught in Andrei’s trap after all. I can’t afford for him to decide to throw Mark to the wolves and he must have guessed that when he asked for that chance.
So much for the friend of orphans and giver of gifts. He’s out for what he can get after all, no matter what it takes.
CHAPTER FOUR
Now that I know there’s no hope of seeing Mark, one thing dominates my thoughts.
I have to see Dominic, find him somehow, and tell him that I can now swear to him after all. Andrei might be trying to manipulate me into opening my mind to being with him, but he’s given the most precious gift he can without even knowing it: the gift of knowing that I have stayed true to the man I love.
When I’ve finished the morning’s work, I write an email to Dominic.
Dominic, darling,
I’m so sorry about what happened between us the other night. It was stupid and pointless and I can’t believe I hurt you like that. I haven’t had anything to do with Andrei, I promise on my life, and I never will. I’m yours, no one else’s, you must know that. There’s a reason why I couldn’t swear to you – I’ll tell you all when I see you, I promise. Please, please, meet me. I have to see you. I want you to know everything. We could meet at the boudoir?
All my love,
Beth
Before I send it, I also copy it as a text message. Then I press send to dispatch it through the ether to Dominic’s email and phone. Surely it has to reach him one way or another.
I try to concentrate on doing odds and ends and catching up on Mark’s filing, but I’m hardly able to do anything but stare at my inbox and my phone, waiting for a message to pop up.
There’s nothing.
Dominic! Please answer, please give us a chance. Don’t throw everything we have away for nothing. I can’t stand it . . .
My thought messages are no more successful that the others. Nothing comes back to me and I get increasingly frantic. What am I going to do? I can’t just sit here and let him walk out of my life like this. I won’t let that happen. I promised myself I would fight for him so fight I will.
‘Caroline!’ I call as I grab my coat, ‘I’m going out. I’m heading up to Bond Street.’
‘Yes, dear, see you later,’ comes her answer from the drawing room.
‘Give my love to Mark when you see him.’
‘I will.’
Outside, it’s very cold. The temperature is not exactly as bad as St Petersburg but it’s definitely frosty. I catch a bus up to Hyde Park Corner and then walk up through the back streets of Mayfair to Randolph Gardens. I don’t know what I intend to do, exactly, except that I can’t help going to where I last saw Dominic and the only firm thing I really know about him, which is where he lives.
I march past the porter and take the lift to Dominic’s floor. I almost run along the corridor to his apartment door and knock hard.
‘Dominic!’ I rap hard on the wood. ‘Are you in there? Dominic?’
I hold my breath and hear footsteps inside approaching the door. I’m filled with wild happiness. He’s here, I can speak to him, tell him everything, make him listen to me . . .
The door opens.
‘Dominic, thank God— oh.’ I’m not looking at the face I long to see so much but into a pair of dark brown eyes that belong to a lady in domestic overalls holding a polishing rag.
‘Yes?’ she says.
‘Is Mr Stone in?’ I ask weakly but I can already guess the answer.
She shakes her head and says in a strong foreign accent, ‘No one here. I’m cleaning but no one here.’
‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’
‘Uh uh,’ she says, still shaking her head.
‘Can I come in for a moment?’
She lets me in reluctantly and I walk into the apartment, not sure what I think I’ll find here. I just want to feel close to Dominic, but as I go into the elegant sitting room I feel further away from him than ever. This place is full of his absence. It doesn’t feel as though he’s just popped out but as though he’s packed up and left, not intending to be back for a while.
I walk around the room, looking at familiar objects and remembering the time I’ve spent here with Dominic. The spanking chair is gone, the one where I saw Vanessa paddling a man I thought was Dominic. I wonder where he’s put it.
I notice that on the table is a brochure, a glossy piece of corporate cardboard. I pick it up. It reads Finlay Venture Capital and under some stock photographs of smiling businessmen in a smart boardroom, there’s some blurb about how this company likes to invest in the future and discover amazing new ways to make money. The contact details are printed at the bottom, somewhere in the City where most big-money business is based.
‘Can I help you?’ asks the cleaning lady. She’s come in and is watching me, obviously uncomfortable that she’s let me in.
I put the brochure down. ‘No . . . no. Thank you. I’m leaving now. Thanks for your help.’
This is crazy. What the hell am I doing?
I hailed a taxi on South Audley Street that’s now threading its way through Mayfair and heading east. As we roar along, I realise that London has become very Christmassy. Lights are up everywhere, and all the shop windows are decorated with snowflakes and themed displays. Christmas is only a few weeks away now. I haven’t decided what I’m doing, but I can’t imagine anything other than going home to be with my family. I yearn for them as soon as I think of them all. I can’t wait to be there, waking up in my old room, with a stocking stiff and knobbly at the end of my bedpost. Mum still makes sure we all get a stocking when we’re home even though we’re grown up.
I stare out of the window as the taxi takes short cuts and back ways and gets us up to New Oxford Street, and onto the main road heading east. We pass Holborn and then suddenly we’re in the skyscraper part of town, where big business is conducted in steel-and-glass penthouses hundreds of floors up, where gambles are made on trading floors, and huge law firms rake in money by supervising and tying together the thousands of deals made every week.
We don’t stop in front of any of the great modern edifices, or the venerable old stone buildings. Instead the taxi driver guides the cab down incredibly narrow streets and into a small cobbled square where some red-brick Victorian buildings have been converted into funky-looking offices.
The driver looks over his shoulder at me. ‘Here you are, miss! Tanner Square.’
‘Thank you.’
I pay him and get out. I’m wondering now more than ever what the hell I’m doing here. But what have I got to lose? I shake out my shoulders and walk purposefully towards the offices at number 11.
Inside there is a glossy white reception desk with bright blue lettering on the front of it that reads ‘Finlay Venture Capital’. A receptionist looks up at me. ‘Yes, can I help you?’
I stare at her, not knowing what to say. I should have planned this before I came in but it’s a bit late now.
The receptionist frowns. ‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘I . . . I . . . Not exactly.’
‘I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave if you don’t have an appointment to see someone.’ Her voice is turning frosty.
‘No, please, I really need to see someone – anyone, really, someone in charge . . .’
‘What seems to be the trouble?’ It’s a deep male voice coming from my left. I turn to see a young man with glasses and a dark brown beard standing there. He’s casual in jeans and an open-necked shirt with a jumper. ‘Can I help you with anything?’
His eyes are friendly enough and I make the sudden decision to trust him. ‘Yes – I hope so. I’m looking for Dominic Stone and I wondered if he might be here.’
The man looks surprised. ‘Dominic? That’s str
ange. He was just here. He left about twenty minutes ago.’
‘Oh no!’ I can’t help crying out in frustration. ‘Do you know where he’s gone?’
He gives me a puzzled look. ‘What’s this about? I can’t just give you his whereabouts. I’ve no idea who you are.’
I stare at him pleadingly. I can’t begin to explain out here in public and, to my relief, he seems to grasp this, as he suddenly beckons me into his office.
‘Look, come in here.’
I follow him into a small office full of modern gadgetry and sit down in the chair the man gestures to while he takes a seat behind the desk.
He says, ‘I’m Tom Finlay, by the way. Who are you?’
‘I’m Beth Villiers and I’m Dominic’s friend.’
‘Hmm.’ He gives me an amused look over the top of his glasses. ‘His special friend?’
I flush. ‘Well . . . it’s complicated. But yes, we’re involved. I really need to see him, to explain something. I made a mistake, and I have to put it right.’
‘Well, well.’ Tom Finlay smiles at me. ‘I’m glad to hear it’s romance and not some business disaster, considering I’ve just agreed to invest a sizeable sum in Dominic’s company.’
‘His company is up and running already?’ I say, surprised.
Tom nods. ‘It sounds like it was all up and ready to go. He was just waiting for release from his old employment and the cash injection he needed to get started. He’s hitting the ground at a sprint.’
I smile. That sounds like Dominic. I’m seized with a longing to be with him. Perhaps it shows on my face because Tom says, ‘Look, I wouldn’t normally give out any information about a client or business partner, but you look pretty desperate.’
‘I am!’ I say quickly. ‘He’s not returning my calls or emails.’
‘Oh?’ He frowns. ‘Have you thought about the possibility that maybe he’s not interested?’
I see with a touch of panic that I’ve given him the idea that maybe Dominic doesn’t want anything to do with me and that I’m a troublesome stalker. ‘No, no, he doesn’t know what I have to tell him. He’ll want to know, I promise! I’m not crazy. Please tell me what you know about where he is.’
Promises After Dark (After Dark Book 3) Page 4
