Ha, all very fine. Easy to make resolutions; harder to follow them. But she’d do it. She had to. There were no other options.
Leaving her hiding place, she headed silently away, back towards the bedroom. The urge to draw was overpowering, a therapy for her hands. She couldn’t turn off her heart, but at least she could do something that made her feel less powerless in the face of emotion she couldn’t control.
No, she wasn’t going to give up on having a life. Ellis might impose on himself a strict set of emotional parameters, but she wasn’t going to. It would hurt like hell not to be with the man she loved, but she couldn’t take ten steps back now that she’d made so many forward.
But it was a horrid irony. Ellis McKenna was the man who’d helped her move forward after marking time for so many, many years.
But he couldn’t do the same thing for himself.
A couple of glasses of champagne didn’t seem to have interfered with Jess’s ability to draw. Quite the reverse. She worked and worked, tearing through several fast sketches of Ellis in a raw and angular style. The pencil strokes were jagged, in a break from her usual preference for realism, but the results were good.
No wonder the great artists loved their booze and bad living and their torrid, tricky relationships. It obviously all helps with the creativity!
She sketched on and on, tossing sheets of paper aside, knowing exactly when each drawing was done, even if it looked half finished.
What was Ellis doing out there? Working on his computer? Still talking to his aunt?
Brooding?
Thinking about his temporary ‘thing’ and how to end it kindly?
Jess was pretty sure that Ellis was as aware as she was that they’d become too close for comfort. Getting up at last, she crossed the room to top up her champagne glass, never more sober in her life, despite the alcohol.
As she turned from the sideboard, Ellis entered the room, clutching the lapels of his robe together with one hand, and with the second champagne flute dangling from the fingers of his other. He looked chilled, as if the temperature outside had plunged.
Or maybe it was an inner coolness. Without speaking, he crossed to the bed, and his eyebrows shot up as he glanced at the drawings. Not sure how to find words, Jess brought the bottle across, took his glass from him and topped it up.
‘Thanks …’ He took a deep drink, then set the glass on the bedside table and resumed his perusal of her work. Jess joined him on the bed, at the other side, abandoning her own wine. Suddenly, it didn’t taste quite so good.
Ellis set down the drawings and stared at her, frowning. She could see in his eyes that her wild new drawing style had told him all he needed to know.
‘These are very, very good,’ he said, touching the surface of the paper. ‘Some of them look a bit turbulent though …’ He frowned. Jess could read his face, and the struggle. He didn’t want to hurt her, but it was coming … ‘You’re not in pain, are you? I didn’t hit you too hard? I tried not to …’
Shadowboxing with a different kind of pain?
‘No, you barely hurt me at all. I can’t feel a thing now … You’re very clever.’ She smiled. Or tried to.
But there was no fooling Ellis. ‘You heard what I said out there, didn’t you? Me talking to Augusta on the computer.’ His glorious face looked stricken again. ‘I … I’m sorry, Jess. I really am. But … well … I am what I am. I wish things could be different.’
Ellis was usually so lithe, so loose, but now his body screamed tension in every nerve. Jess could feel it herself, singing in the air.
‘Yes, I did hear,’ she said quietly. Her fingers itched to reach out for his, and maybe a couple of hours ago, she might have done it, but now there seemed to be too great a gulf. ‘But it’s okay, Ellis. Really it is. I know the score. I always have. You’ve never deceived me …’ She did reach out then. She couldn’t help herself. His fingers were very cold, but at least he didn’t flinch away. ‘You’re a good man, and we’ve had a wonderful time together. I wouldn’t change a thing … but I know you’re not mine.’
Ellis heaved a sigh, yet he smiled at her, his eyes filled with respect. He might not love her, but what he did feel for her was real and had a value.
‘And you’re a good woman, Jess. More than good. Miraculous.’ He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. ‘And you deserve a marvellous man who can give you all the love that’s owing to you. Not an emotional cripple like me …’ Small muscles in his face twitched and moved as if he was fighting for control. Was he sad? Was he angry with himself? It was hard to tell.
‘I wish I could turn back time,’ Jess found herself saying. The words came from somewhere un-thought out, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘I wish I could turn back time and change things for you, so Julie was still alive, and your daughters too, so you could be really happy again. I really do.’ A lump in her throat balked her, and she wasn’t sure who it was for … ‘I know it means you and I would never have met, but it’s maybe better that way. I’d never have missed what I hadn’t had … and I know my life would have sorted itself out eventually.’
‘Oh Jess …’ He kissed her fingers again. Because he dare not kiss her lips? Because he didn’t want to taunt her with a closeness that couldn’t go anywhere?
When he looked back up again, his eyes were agonised. He wore the face of a man fighting to change, but locked in place. She wanted to throw her arms around him and comfort him and love him, but that would only hurt him more. And hurt her too.
Still holding her hand, he said, ‘You do want more, don’t you?’ His voice was low and steady.
Time for truth.
‘Yes. I do. I want what I know I can’t have. Not with you. But I accepted the terms of the original deal, and now I must abide by them. It’s me that’s gone back on the agreement, not you. My bad.’
‘You’re not bad. You’re wonderful. Any other man would be grabbing you with both hands, to hold you and keep you.’
‘Maybe … maybe not.’ She drew in a deep breath, fighting herself as much as the situation. ‘But I … I think I need to set out and see if I can find that “grab, hold, keep” man. I can’t stay in a holding pattern all my life.’ She looked at him very intently, hoping he could understand things that she wasn’t expressing well. ‘You’ve done me a very great service, Ellis. It would probably have taken me a long, long time to break out without you.’
He didn’t speak, but his face was a mask again, hiding a turmoil beneath.
‘I think I need to get out and kiss a few frogs, to find a prince. Well, another prince … know what I mean?’
‘I’m not a prince.’ That brought a wry smile.
‘Oh you are … Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?’ She straightened up, steeling her spine. ‘And meeting you has helped me find my inner princess.’
‘You were a princess already, Jess. A queen. A goddess.’
‘But not your goddess. Not your princess.’
For a moment his mouth worked. He was fighting not to break down. ‘No … I lost mine. But you’ll be somebody else’s princess … some lucky, unscrewed-up guy. And the sooner you find him, the better.’
He was right. She’d fallen for him and she loved him. But, there was no future with Ellis, and the longer she moped for what she couldn’t have, the more likely she was to slip back into her half-life. It would be hard. Perhaps the greatest fight of her life, but she had to ride forth and into battle as soon as she could.
‘I think you’re right. Better to pull the sticking plaster off now …’
‘So the wound can heal.’
They both laughed, suddenly, at the piled-on melodrama. The pain was still there, but they were both adults, and they could both hack it.
With a last squeeze of Ellis’s hand, she slipped off the bed, and went to the sideboard, retrieving the champagne bottle. She brought it back with her, and topped up both their glasses.
‘Here’s to a night of outrageously muddl
ed metaphors … and to moving forward.’
They clinked their glasses and finished the wine.
‘I think I ought to go,’ she said, feeling a strange layer of calm settle over the ferment inside her. ‘I know there won’t be a train at this hour, but maybe I could get a hotel room and then the first train north in the morning.’
Ellis shook his head. ‘Don’t be absurd.’
Jess could feel herself wavering. Wanting to stretch things out longer. Have more closeness. More sex. More Ellis. But that wasn’t the answer, because there wasn’t an answer where she and he were concerned. Hanging around, dragging out a one-sided love, was good for nobody.
‘I don’t mind … and I know you could get me a room. Pull some strings. Maybe get me a suite at The Ritz?’
With a wry shrug, Ellis returned her smile, and took her hand again. ‘I could do that. And I totally respect and understand that you’d like to leave as soon as possible.’ He pulled in a great breath. ‘But if you leave now, there’ll be no schlepping around to hotels and catching trains. I’ll arrange for a company jet from the City airport … and you’ll probably be home in not much more than a couple of hours.’
‘But …’
‘No buts. If you’ll feel better leaving now, that’s how you’re leaving. Understand?’ He was so decisive, suddenly Ellis the mover and shaker, who could make anything happen.
She nodded. Yes, why prolong the pointlessness? A clean, sharp, almost instant break now was best. This way she could put half the country between herself and temptation in a matter of hours.
‘I’ll make the arrangements for you now.’ He squeezed her fingers, then kissed them again. ‘Do you need any help with packing your things? Anything else I can do? Maybe arrange for some food before you go? You haven’t eaten anything since the Palm Court. You must be starving.’
Still so thoughtful. He was a prince. An unavailable prince, but kind and courtly all the same.
‘I’m okay, thanks Ellis. I’ve nothing much to pack, and I’m not really hungry …’ This was hard, so hard, but it had to be done. ‘Think I might just finish off that last inch or two of bubbly though … Seems a shame to waste it.’
Ellis gave her a strange little smile, then filled her glass. ‘Cheers, Jess,’ he said softly, clinking his empty glass to hers. ‘Right, I’ll get things sorted. Be back in a few minutes.’
Then he rose from the bed and left the room, not looking back.
Jess clenched her fingers, digging nails into her palm.
Now was not the time to fall to pieces.
25
‘What the hell are you doing back here? I thought you weren’t coming back until Monday … what happened to the luxurious sex weekend with your billionaire?’
Jess switched on the kettle, and then reached for a mug for Cathy. Small, mundane tasks kept her focused. Made everything normal. Kept a lid on things.
‘He’s not my billionaire and it wasn’t a fixed thing, staying until Monday,’ she said, forcing her voice to sound normal, with a lid on that too.
Cathy strode across the room, and put her hand on Jess’s arm, forcing her to turn. ‘If he’s dumped you, I’ll bloody well hunt him down and kill him, millions notwithstanding. The shit! The absolute shit!’
Jess let out a tight little laugh. It was funny, really. She’d been the one to finish it herself, not Ellis. His style would probably have been to complete the weekend and make it as lavish and hedonistic for her as possible. A parting gift laden with gorgeous food, more champagne and orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. He would have taken her wherever she wanted to go by day, and held her in his arms at night. Which would only have made it harder to part. A clean break was far better for both of them.
Keep telling yourself that …
‘No! He hasn’t dumped me. Not in the slightest. He’s been perfect and wonderful and kind … and the ideal lover …’ She gave Cathy a very firm look. ‘But that’s just the problem. He’s too fabulous. So I’m going cold turkey now, rather than carry on enjoying all the fabulousness and then find that I’ve gone and got addicted to him.’
Cathy pursed her lips and shrugged. ‘If you say so. I guess that makes good sense, really. It’s just that I was hoping this was Cinderella and you and he would stay together. Like a movie, you know?’
The kettle whistled and Jess brewed the tea before speaking.
‘Nope, not a movie. Just a wonderful, magical interlude type thing. A lot of people don’t even get that.’ She fussed with the milk bottle and sugar bowl. ‘He can’t get over his wife, and in a way, I sort of admire that, even though he’d be a much happier person if he could move on.’ She turned and rested her hip against the counter top. ‘And it’s much better for me to just have these three … um … encounters with him … so I can move on.’
‘But who to?’
‘I don’t know. But I’ve got to try …’ Jess looked at the sugar bowl, and somehow couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’ve had a taste of sweetness now, and I’m not going to give it up again, even if the finest and rarest honey to end all honey is unavailable.’
‘Bloody good for you!’ Cathy said, taking charge of the teapot, giving it a stir, then pouring the tea.
‘But don’t worry, I’m not going to turn into some kind of slag, sleeping with every man who crosses my path. I’ll be very selective. Only ones that have clear potential to be something more.’
Cathy nodded. ‘Very wise … and I think you should probably start with Josh Redding. He sounds as if he has potential. He’s an artist like you, and he sounds really nice from what you’ve said about him.’
‘He’s a prospect, certainly.’ Jess took her mug of tea.
‘Well, if you really do want to move on, you should go out with him. Didn’t you say he’d asked you to go and see some arty movie with him?’
Was it too soon? Was all her bravado about sugar and moving on a façade? ‘I’m thinking about it, Cathy. Really thinking … But what I do really need to do now is get some sleep. I think I’ll take this up. Sorry to have disturbed you … and don’t worry about me, will you?’ Cathy’s forehead crimped in a frown. ‘I don’t have any regrets, Cath, really I don’t. Ellis McKenna is something I wouldn’t have missed for all the world, even if he wasn’t Mr Right, you know?’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Now, let’s get some sleep, eh? I think I might have a day out tomorrow. Go to the City Art Gallery, and have a snoop round the shops. Get some Starbucks … Are you available?’
Yes, much better to get out, get fresh and act normal. Anything other than mooching about home, letting yourself get maudlin, and pining for the perfect love that could never be.
The week that followed passed in an odd sort of cotton wool state. Jess got on with life during the day, living in the moment, not allowing herself to think too much about anything.
It was only at night, lying in bed alone, that she allowed herself to think about Ellis, and replay all the precious memories of being with him. Not just the sex. In fact, memorable as it had been, she didn’t revisit it all that much. It was the other things that were so drilled in that she just couldn’t quit them.
Talking. Laughing. Swimming in his pool. Sharing views on art. Eating that enormous and fabulous tea at The Ritz. The Courtauld. Little moments of pure, perfect gold.
It’s going to take a long time is this getting over him, she told herself in the darkness. So, I’m really going to have to try hard, and try soon.
Ellis had asked her if she’d mind if he called her, or whether she’d prefer him not to. Jess had said that not was probably best, at least until they’d put some distance between each other.
‘But if you need anything. Anything at all. Contact me immediately. Promise me that,’ he’d said as she was about to board the jet. He’d also asked if she wanted him to accompany her back home, but she’d declined, and he’d acceded to her wishes.
The only thing I really want from you is what I can’t have.
>
So it was best to get on with life.
At life class, she was glad that Josh came to chat at break-time and didn’t ask any probing questions about her weekend. She almost wondered if he sensed something, especially when he repeated his invitation to the Munch film.
‘Yes, I’d love to,’ she’d answered, feeling vaguely mean when his face lit up.
I hope I don’t turn into his ‘Ellis’.
But still she knew she had to give him a chance.
This is crazy. I need to get a grip. I can’t go on like this.
Again and again in the week after Jess’s London visit, Ellis found his spirits lifting, and experienced an almost boyish sense of anticipation that made him smile.
But then he’d remember …
He and Jess had parted. He would not be seeing her at the weekend. There was nothing to look forward to.
What was wrong with him? He’d never felt like this before. With his previous girlfriends and lovers, he’d always enjoyed the sex, and also the temporary companionship. But no matter how much he’d liked them, he’d never missed them when he’d not been with them.
The only person he’d ever missed was Julie. And his daughters.
Now it was Saturday night, and he was at Windermere Hall. Alone and missing … someone.
Julie? Yes, insomuch as he would always remember her. Always love her. But she was gone, and somehow now, that simple fact didn’t produce the sharp lance of pain that it always had done. He could accept it now. Live with it.
What’s the matter with me? Julie, what’s the matter with me?
He prowled the house. In the sitting room, he paused in front of each of his new Hunter pictures, pleased with the way they looked, but unsettled. In the bedroom, he admired the vibrant Cadell. In the pool room, he trailed his fingers in the water, wondering whether to swim, but too restless.
Julie had never been here, nor had the girls, but he was still looking for someone, missing someone who had been here. Someone who’d talked and laughed and swum with him, who’d helped him choose the pictures. Someone who’d given her beautiful body to him, shared pleasure and experimentation, always smiling. Someone who’d created amazing art here, especially the two drawings she’d left in his London flat as a gift, to stir not only his libido but other deeper, finer emotions that left him shaking.
How to Seduce a Billionaire Page 29
