by Susan Lewis
She turned back to the display stand and felt her heart tighten as a gap opened in the crowd. She could see Galina now, her snow-blonde hair, her delicate olive skin and gently slanting blue eyes. She was wearing the Conspiracy colours, a lilac short-jacketed suit with a white silk top, and her tall, slender figure was moving with the grace of a woman who had been born to elegance and style. She was laughing and chatting so naturally and informally with the public that Rhiannon could only admire the ease with which she charmed them. She was so very beautiful and so radiantly happy that it would be impossible not to be enchanted by her, and the confidence she exuded was so recognizable that Rhiannon felt her heart contract. Galina was a woman who loved and knew she was loved in return.
Rhiannon bowed her head, then forcing herself to smile, looked up again. This was hurting a great deal more than she’d have imagined, for seeing Galina was telling her more clearly than anything how very far she was from getting over Max and putting what had happened behind her. She still wanted him so badly that it turned her weak just to think of it. She felt so bound by her feelings that she feared they were never going to let her go.
She started to turn away, then for no particular reason turned back for one last look. Later she would ask herself, if she had carried on walking away would things have turned out differently? Could all that followed have been avoided? Would she be living now with a guilt so terrible it was threatening to destroy the rest of her life? But that was later. Now, as she and Max looked at each other through the crowd, their eyes drawn instinctively to each other’s, all she knew was that the emotions pulling through her with such incisive purity – the need, the love, the want, the incredible power of everything he was evoking inside her – were all there for him too.
Galina stood on tiptoe and kissed him while his eyes remained on Rhiannon. He had obviously just arrived and the unexpected bonus of his appearance was causing a ripple of interest to spread through the crowd. The press had all gone, so there were no flashlights or shouted enquiries, there was only the intrigue of the shoppers and Galina’s obvious pleasure at seeing him.
No gesture was made, no glimmer of recognition, not even of surprise. He merely looked at Rhiannon, holding her eyes in wordless affinity. In those seconds Rhiannon’s heart stopped beating, her mind ceased to function and the world around her blurred into obscurity. Then he looked away and she was released.
She turned and walked out of the store. She went to her meeting with Morgan and Sally, agreed to consider their offer of a consultancy, then took a taxi to her lunch with a prospective sponsor, before descending into the Underground station at Piccadilly and waiting for the train to take her home.
Hour after hour passed with her barely noticing. She scanned the recent issues of Newsweek and Time magazines; replayed a couple of videotaped programmes that had interested her; made notes for her next meeting with Lucy and dealt with the the several telephone calls she needed to make. Late in the afternoon she changed into a short-waisted cream sweater and an over-the-knee rust-coloured skirt. Then, after lighting the fire, she went to put on some music.
She was utterly calm, yet the moment the doorbell sounded her heart rose to her throat and she felt so nervous she was almost afraid to answer.
Her stockinged feet made no sound as she walked along the hall to open the door and when she saw him her heart folded so painfully around the emotion that she could find no words.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her silently, burying his face in her hair and closing his eyes at the onslaught of need that claimed him.
‘Are you OK?’ he whispered, pressing her closer.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
He lifted his head and gazed long into her eyes, then very slowly he started to smile. ‘You knew I’d come?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘When I saw you today, yes, I knew.’
His eyes darkened. ‘Do I get to pass the door?’ he asked.
Laughing, she stepped back inside and closed the door behind him. Then taking his hand, she led him through to the sitting-room. He seemed so big in the cramped, cosy surroundings, but not out of place. Turning back into his arms, she linked her hands behind his neck and looked up at him again.
‘How long can you stay?’ she asked.
‘Three days,’ he answered.
Her eyes widened with surprise, then laughing she said, ‘I can’t believe this. I had no idea you’d be there today. Galina said you weren’t coming until the end of her tour.’
‘Originally I wasn’t, but our plans changed. Galina’s flying to Paris tonight,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow she’ll be in Edinburgh, Thursday she’ll be in Manchester.’
‘Will you stay here?’
He nodded. ‘God, you look so good,’ he breathed, sweeping her face with his eyes.
‘So do you,’ she said, feeling herself brinking on tears again. ‘I forgot what you looked like. I couldn’t remember your face. I tried calling you, but I could never summon up the courage to speak.’ She laughed. ‘I felt such a fool. Did you guess it was me?’
He nodded.
‘Oh God, what am I crying for?’ she said. ‘I had myself so together just now. Can I get you something? A drink? I have Scotch . . .’
‘No, don’t go,’ he whispered and lowering his mouth to hers he kissed her with a depth and a tenderness that seemed to unravel her entire soul. His lips and his tongue were hungry, but not demanding, his hands held her close and his body told her the strength of his need. When he looked at her again she was breathless and flushed with the heat of her own longing.
‘Are you going to take off your coat?’ she asked shakily.
He laughed. ‘I guess it would make this easier,’ he said, shrugging it off. Then putting his fingers under her chin he tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly and lingeringly on the mouth. ‘Are you sure this is OK?’ he whispered.
‘I’m sure.’
Bringing her mouth back to his, he kissed her again as she slipped her hands between them and felt his hardness. She lowered his fly and he helped her release him, then groaned into her open mouth as she circled his erection with her hand and squeezed it hard. Then jerking her in tighter to him, he kissed her harder and more intimately than ever.
Keeping him encircled in one hand, she reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt. She’d left off her underwear, knowing that once she was in his arms she would be unable to wait. All she wore were cream self-gartered stockings.
‘Oh Christ,’ he murmured, smoothing his hands over her buttocks.
As they sank to the floor she pulled her sweater over her head to reveal her naked breasts. He took each one in his mouth, sucking hard on her nipples as she opened her legs wide and lifted her knees. As their bodies came slowly together they gazed long into each other’s eyes, knowing and understanding that this was the way it was meant to be. He smiled, then his eyes fluttered closed as she contracted her muscles around him. Then laughing softly he drew back and pushed deeply into her again.
‘I love you,’ she said, touching his face with her fingers.
‘I love you too,’ he said, turning his mouth to her fingers and kissing them. ‘I want you to tell me how it’s been for you,’ he said, ‘whether you think about me and want me the way I think about and want you. I want to make love to you and look at you and wonder why I feel the way I do about you and why, when it causes me so much pain, I don’t want it ever to change.’
‘It won’t ever change,’ she told him softly.
He kissed her again and began moving his body against hers, filling her full of himself as his tongue entered her mouth and his hands clasped her tightly to him.
‘I want to feel your skin on mine,’ she whispered.
Lifting himself up he eased himself gently out of her and began stripping off his clothes. She wriggled out of her skirt, tossed it aside, then lay watching him, her eyes reflecting the humour in his as he laughed at her abandon.
His body was firm and solid, pow
erfully erect and commanding. He knelt beween her thighs and watched her watching him. Using his fingers, he traced the freckles on her skin, moving them over her breasts and nipples, down over her tummy and into the golden hair between her legs. Her breath caught as he touched her, then raising her hips with his hands, he lowered his mouth and began to tease her with his tongue.
Her head moved from side to side as the sensations turned her weak with desire. Her fingers moved into his hair and a cry of release burst from her throat as within seconds she came. Lowering her hips back to the floor, he lay over her and rolling her on top of him he bunched her hair in his hands and brought her mouth harshly to his. They kissed for a long and deeply sensuous time until the need of her body was soaring to a pitch again and raising herself on her arms she gazed down into his face. She started to smile, but feeling the power of him pressing against her and the seriousness starting to cloud his eyes, her smile was swallowed into a sudden and overpowering love.
‘Put me inside you. Put me in now!’ he said urgently.
Obediently she opened her legs and took him deep inside her. He rolled her on to her back and as her feet locked behind him he began to jerk himself into her with short, rapid strokes.
‘I love you,’ he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion. ‘Rhiannon. Oh, Christ, Rhiannon!’ he gasped as she reached beneath their bodies and gently pressed his balls against her. His mouth came crushing down on hers and his rhythm suddenly changed as the seed began erupting from him in long exquisite bursts. He slid his hands beneath her and brought her even closer, continuing the motion of his hips. The base of his penis was rubbing her clitoris and already he could feel her climax starting to break. Her fingers dug into his back, her legs gripped him hard as her entire body turned rigid.
‘Max,’ she cried. ‘Oh God, Max.’
‘Let go,’ he whispered. ‘Just let it go.’
He could feel her closing around him, so tightly that every pulse of her orgasm shuddered through him as it exploded inside her. Her heart was thudding hard into his, her breath was shredded by moans of continuing release. He kissed her again and again, then looked down at her, waiting for her eyes to open. Their bodies were still joined, their skin clung damply to each other’s.
When finally her eyelids flickered open she gazed up at him and watched him as looked down at her. Neither of them smiled and neither spoke. They simply looked at each other until he put his open mouth over hers and kissed her again.
‘Are we going to stay like this for the next three days?’ she asked a long time later. They were lying side by side on the floor now, her head resting on his shoulder, their legs comfortably entwined. The only light came from the sleepily flaming logs in the hearth, which cast a warm, flickering glow over their naked bodies and seemed to seal them from the wintry night outside.
Smiling, he raised the arm that was covering his eyes and used it to pull her closer. ‘Do you want to stay like this for three days?’ he said.
She thought about that for a moment. ‘It’s tempting,’ she said.
Laughing, he kissed the tip of her nose, then getting to his feet he began hunting around for his clothes. ‘I’ve got a bag in the car,’ he said, pulling on his undershorts. ‘I’ll go get it.’ He stopped then and looked down at her lying there in the firelight. ‘You look so beautiful,’ he murmured.
Smiling, she lifted a hand and linked her fingers through his. Then drawing herself up to her knees, she lowered his shorts and took him deep into her mouth.
‘Are you just planning on leaving it like that?’ he said, when letting it go she looked up at him.
‘I thought I would,’ she replied. ‘That way there’s more chance of you coming back.’
Taking her by the elbows, he raised her to her feet and linked his hands behind her. ‘Do you think there’s a chance I wouldn’t?’ he said seriously.
Putting her head to one side, she said, ‘No.’
‘Then tell me what you do think.’
‘I think’, she said, ‘that I’m going to love having you here for three days.’
His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and back again. ‘I never knew it could feel like this,’ he whispered.
She smiled and let her eyes linger on his lips before lifting them back to his. ‘What about Galina?’ she said softly.
He sighed and dropped his forehead against hers. ‘I’ll go get that bag,’ he said.
‘So that’s how it stands,’ he said a couple of hours later. ‘We don’t make love often, but it does happen and when it does it’s OK. Nothing like the way it is for us, but it stops the marriage from being a total sham and as a family it’s brought us closer together. That’s not to say we don’t have our problems, every family does, but on the whole we’re working things through.’
‘And the violence?’ Rhiannon said. ‘The self-abuse and all the other things she used to do?’
‘So far so good,’ he said. ‘There’s only been one what you might call relapse . . .’ He stopped and as his eyes met Rhiannon’s she could see how much he disliked putting Galina’s problems into words. ‘It affected her pretty badly,’ he said. ‘I guess it frightened her to think that even though she had what she always wanted she still had a way to go before she was cured.’
‘What brought it on?’ Rhiannon asked. ‘Do you know?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. She’s worried about Marina, I think it might have had something to do with that. If she can’t figure something out, or if she can’t make something work, she feels she’s got to punish herself.’
‘Why does she worry about Marina?’
He sighed deeply and looked down at their joined hands. ‘Marina’s had her problems ever since Carolyn died,’ he said. ‘She’s in counselling, but it’s taking some time and lately she’s been finding it hard. Galina worries about that. She thinks it’s her fault, that she’s not trying hard enough. The trouble is, the harder she tries the further she seems to be pushing Marina away. And that’s a tough call for Galina when she’s always been the centre of Marina’s world.’
‘And what about Maurice?’ Rhiannon said. ‘Have you managed to sort that yet?’
‘I don’t know if that one will ever be sorted,’ he answered. ‘He still tries making moves on Galina, but so far she’s resisting.’
‘Why on earth don’t you confront him?’ Rhiannon said.
‘Because I can’t. No, you know why I can’t, so don’t let’s go down that road.’
Leaning her head against the back of the sofa, Rhiannon looked at his dark, handsome face and though she could see the strength, she could see the terrible strain and anxiety too. ‘Where is all this going to go?’ she whispered.
His eyes opened in surprise. ‘Do you mean you and me?’ he said.
‘You and me, yes. But Maurice and Galina. These things don’t just go away, Max. If he’s got something on you and you don’t deal with it, it’s going to stay that way for ever.’
‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,’ he sighed.
‘Then do something about it.’
‘I told you, I can’t,’ he responded and put his fingers on her lips as she started to protest again. ‘Just leave it,’ he said softly. ‘I promise it won’t be an issue for ever, but there’s nothing I can do right now.’
Holding his fingers to her mouth she kissed them, then leaning forward, she kissed him on the lips. ‘I care about you,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘That’s good to hear.’
They kissed again, their lips gently exploring each other’s as their fingers entwined. When at last she pulled away she saw a teasing light dancing in his eyes. ‘Do you care enough to feed me?’ he said.
Laughing, she kissed him again and got up from the sofa. ‘There’s a choice of pasta or Chinese take-away,’ she offered.
‘Pasta,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder as the telephone started to ring. ‘Shall I make a start while you get that?’
Rhian
non grinned her surprise. ‘Yes, why not?’ she said and picking up the receiver she watched him walk barefoot into the kitchen, tightening the belt of his black towelling robe as he went. When he’d come back from the car they’d made love once more, then after taking a shower had decided not to bother dressing again that night.
‘Hi, Rhiannon Edwardes,’ she said into the phone.
‘Hi. How are you doing sweetie?’ Jolene sang.
‘I’m doing just fine,’ Rhiannon replied, mimicking his tone. ‘How are you?’
‘Pretty good. And have I got news for you?’
Carrying the phone to the kitchen, Rhiannon leaned against the doorjamb to watch Max rummaging around in the cupboards. ‘Give it to me in three straight sentences,’ she said, nestling the receiver on her shoulder.
Jolene chuckled. ‘Guess who’s in town?’ he said.
Rhiannon’s stomach tightened even as she started to smile. ‘Who?’ she said, knowing already what his answer would be.
‘A certain US publisher,’ he answered. ‘He flew in this morning.’
‘Is that right?’ Rhiannon smiled as Max turned to look at her.
‘Are we going for a tomato or a cheese sauce?’ he asked, filling a saucepan with water.
‘Tomato and tuna,’ she answered. ‘You’ll find the tomatoes in the bottom of the fridge.’
‘What?’ Jolene said. ‘Who are you talking to?’
‘Not you,’ Rhiannon answered. ‘So, go on with your news.’
‘That’s it,’ Jolene said. ‘He flew in this morning.’
‘That’s not news,’ Rhiannon told him, ‘that’s history.’
She waited, then started to laugh as Jolene said, ‘Oh-mi-God, he’s there now.’
“Bye, Jolene,’ she said, ‘nice talking to you,’ and pressing down the aerial she clicked off the line. ‘Where does Galina think you are now?’ she said to Max, taking a packet of dried pasta shells from the cupboard and tearing it open.
‘At the apartment in Belgravia,’ he answered.
Rhiannon looked at him with eyebrows raised. ‘I didn’t know you had an apartment in London,’ she said.
