Breaking the Rules (36 page)

‘You’ve come to tell me we have more trouble, haven’t you, Jack?’ Paula announced as she walked across the sitting room to welcome him.

‘I’m afraid so,’ he replied. Coming to a standstill next to each
other, they embraced; Jack kissed her on the cheek, held her away, his eyes searching her face. ‘No matter what’s happening, you always look wonderful, and you’re positively blooming today.’

‘Thanks, darling. I’m feeling very well, although Linnet fusses over me far too much. Well, never mind, she means well, and I must say I’m proud of the way she runs the store, takes everything in her stride.’ Sitting down on the sofa, giving him a questioning glance, Paula said, ‘So give me the bad news.’

Blowing out air, shaking his head, Jack took the chair opposite her. ‘Steel yourself for this…Jonathan Ainsley is not dead and buried as we believed. He’s alive.’

Jack was watching her carefully, worried about her as usual, and he saw her flinch, but otherwise there was no other visible reaction. Then a deep sigh escaped her and she gave him her full attention.

Leaning back against the cushions, Paula said, ‘I know you must be certain of the truth of this, but naturally I’m curious. How did you find out?’

‘Through your old friend and mine, Zhèng Wen Li. He contacted me, said he had something important to tell me, something
vital,
but that it must be face to face. That’s why I went to Hong Kong last week.’

‘I see. And how does Wen Li know about Ainsley coming back to life, so to speak?’

Jack told her everything, missing out nothing, and finally explained Wen Li’s idea of putting his grandson inside Belvedere, Ainsley’s holding company in Hong Kong. ‘The bait is the vast amount of money he’s going to invest with Ainsley,’ Jack finished. ‘A hundred million.’

‘I understand everything, Jack, and if Wen Li’s plan works we’ll have somebody on the inside, a spy in the house of Ainsley. Then at least we’ll have an idea of what’s going on.’

‘Correct, Paula, although Ainsley might not necessarily be in
Hong Kong at the moment. Nevertheless, Richie Zhèng will have access to a great deal, and I just pray that Ainsley does take the bait.’

‘So do I. It’s good of Wen Li to do this for us.’

‘And also for himself, Paula. You know he hates Ainsley as much as we do, and he does stand to make a lot of money on his hundred million. But yes, he has proved to be very loyal, a good friend.’

‘When is all of this going to happen? When will Wen Li hear from Ainsley? Does he know?’

‘Imminently, I think. In the meantime, there’s not much we can do. Obviously, I’ve got to put a lot of security around you and Shane, M and Larry and Linnet, and Tessa and her brood in France. He’s a dangerous man. Also
elusive.
’ Jack frowned. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea where his base is.’

‘So it’s not Hong Kong?’ Paula raised a brow.

‘No. However, he still has an apartment there, and a business office, but that’s the same as before. It’s just a new name, that’s all.’

‘He could be living in Switzerland, you know, especially since you said he was treated at a clinic in Zurich.’

‘That’s true, he was, but somehow I doubt that he lives in Zurich. Geneva maybe.’

‘You mentioned security guards for my girls, Jack, but what about my sons? Shouldn’t Lorne and Desmond be protected?’

‘Absolutely, and I will talk to them both. Lorne has fought it in the past, but this time he’ll have to listen. How’s Desmond going to take it?’

‘Not too well, I’m afraid, but I’m sure you can persuade him…’ She gave him a small smile. ‘You’re very persuasive, you know.’ Leaning forward, she now asked, ‘Once Richie Zhèng is inside Belvedere, and gets information about Ainsley for his grandfather and you, what then?’

‘I am hoping we will be able to pinpoint Ainsley’s permanent
location and keep track of him at all times. However, even as we speak, I have many of my European operatives hunting for him, trying to track him down. I’m leaving nothing to chance. I want to find him quickly and deal with him.’

‘But how will you deal with him? You can’t just take a gun and go out and shoot him.’

‘If I could I would, and I would have done it years ago, you know that. What will I do?’ Leaning forward, drawing closer, taking her hand in his, he said, ‘Wen Li and I must render him harmless to us, Paula. And we will. I promise you that. But I can’t tell you what it is we’re going to do because we haven’t finalized everything. Anyway, the less you know the better.’

‘I trust you, Jack.’

He half smiled, then went on, ‘I’m going to insist some other members of the family—some of your cousins—have security, and I think that should do it for the moment. You see, he’s mostly out to get you and your daughters—’

‘But
why
is he still persisting after all these years?’ she exclaimed, her voice rising an octave.

‘When a terrible illness is not treated it does not get better, nor does it simply go away. Actually, it gets much worse. Jonathan Ainsley is a very sick man…he’s mentally ill. And I believe he is a psychopath. Even his own father said that just before he died. Ainsley must be stopped.’

‘As soon as you can, Jack, please.’ Her voice sounded suddenly tense.

‘It will be done as fast as possible, I can guarantee that, and I
will
keep my promise to you,’ Jack responded in a reassuring tone.

‘Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’

‘About Tessa, Paula? Do you think her husband will object to having security guards?’ Jack now asked, his concern echoing.

‘I doubt it. Jean-Claude is rather brilliant, as you well know. Furthermore, he’s considered one of the foremost experts on
terrorism. So he understands about bodyguards. Anyway, you can ask Tessa about it herself in a very short while. She’s here in London, just for the day, with Jean-Claude. She’s coming to have tea.’

A huge smile crossed Jack’s face, and he exclaimed, ‘I can’t wait to see her, it’s been ages.’

Paula cleared her throat, and threw Jack a knowing look. ‘You’re usually a few steps ahead of us all, so I’m assuming you’ve already thought about what I’m now going to say…that Ainsley might have had something to do with the bombing of Harte’s?’

‘I was just about to bring that up, Paula, and yes, I had thought of it, and I feel certain he arranged for it to be done. I also consider Larry’s poisoning on location very suspect, not really an accident. And then there’s the collapsing runway at the hotel in Paris. I can’t help thinking that this was another one of Ainsley’s attempts to kill or maim a Harte. This time, M.’

At this moment the door opened and Vesta, the housekeeper, came in, wheeling the tea trolley. ‘Here I am, Mrs O’Neill, and Miss Tessa just arrived a few minutes ago. She went up to her old room to freshen up. And she said she’ll be down very shortly.’

To Jack, Tessa Fairley Deléon was beautiful in a classical sense. She was tall, slender, willowy, with long silver-gilt hair, silvery eyes, and a perfect skin without blemish. Her chiselled features in an oval-shaped face were perfect, and she had an aura about her, perhaps because of her extraordinary taste and elegance, the way she held herself, and moved with such grace.

Now, as she walked in to the sitting room of her mother’s Belgravia house, he caught his breath in surprise. If anything, she was more beautiful than ever, ethereal, and it struck him suddenly that she didn’t walk, she floated. Or so it seemed to him.

She was wearing an outfit made of a fabric in different shades of greys and pale blues, and it drifted around her gorgeous legs like some sort of hazy mist. She wasn’t movie-star beautiful; in fact that would be a ridiculous analogy because she was beyond that: Tessa was like a being from another world. Almost unreal. And to think he had once detested her.

Jack had not been the only one to dislike Tessa. Her entire family, even though they loved her, had found her to be impossible at times. Because she was a Fairley, through her father Jim Fairley, her mother’s first husband, she was a monumental snob. The Fairleys had been the great aristocratic Yorkshire family in their heyday at the turn of the nineteenth century, and Tessa couldn’t stop boasting about that, them, and her remarkable heritage.

What annoyed everyone was the way she looked down on the Hartes, and was forever flinging the Fairley name in their faces. She constantly annoyed her mother and Linnet because she called herself the Dauphine, alluding to the fact that she was the eldest child, and therefore Paula’s heir to the Harte stores.

Tessa
was
the first-born of Paula’s children, that was true, since she was delivered a few minutes before her twin brother, Lorne. Fortunately, they got on well together, and he never stood in her way, because he had no interest in the family business. His aim was to become a great actor, and he had done that.

Jack suppressed a smile now as he thought of the way Linnet and M had mocked her behind her back by calling her by that awful nickname, the Dorf, short for Dauphine.

But they had also become her defenders and allies, once they discovered that she was an abused wife. Tessa’s first husband, Mark Longden, had beaten her up on a regular basis, and treated her so badly she had finally left him. None of them had ever known the true situation, because Tessa had managed to put on such a good face for years.

Jack realized what a bastard Mark was when Tessa’s daughter
by Mark disappeared several years ago. Little Adele went missing from Pennistone Royal and was nowhere to be found, until Jack tracked down her father and discovered that Mark himself was the kidnapper of his own child.

Throughout this horrendous abduction, a genuine ordeal for Tessa, he had come to know her well, and had become her friend and admirer. She had displayed true grit, been tremendously brave, and had confided at one moment that she was glad she was a Harte woman with her great-grandmother’s indomitable spirit.

She had inevitably changed, and had eventually become the lovely woman she was today after meeting and falling in love with Jean-Claude Deléon. The renowned French writer and philosopher was twenty years older than she was, but they had quickly married and had had three children. Tessa lived in France. She had flourished, grown into her own skin.

After greeting her mother, and then Jack, Tessa exclaimed, ‘Shall I play Mum and pour the tea?’ and Paula laughed and said, ‘Please do, darling.’

Once Tessa had served her mother and Jack, and handed around the small tea sandwiches, she took a cup of tea for herself, and settled next to Jack on the sofa.

‘Why is it we never see you in Paris, old friend? I do wish you’d come and visit us.’

‘I will, I promise,’ Jack answered, and looked across at Paula, who nodded, smiled at him.

Jack continued, ‘As a matter of fact, I was thinking of popping over to see you tomorrow, but now that you’re here, there’s no reason…at least not at the moment.’

‘Why were you coming to see me?’ Tessa asked, looking suddenly intrigued.

‘I wanted to talk to you about a rather important matter, Tessa; something very serious. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but at this moment, you, Jean-Claude and your children are at great risk.’

Tessa drew back, staring at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then exclaimed, ‘What on earth do you mean?’

Jack told her. He went on to give her all of the details he had just enumerated to Paula, and she listened attentively.

Once he had finished, Tessa said, ‘Just tell me what you want us to do, and we’ll do it, Jack. I’ll do anything on this earth to protect my husband and my children.’

At this moment, the door swung open, and, as Paula turned around, her face lit up. She rose, exclaiming, ‘M! How wonderful to see you.’ She hurried across the room, embraced her youngest daughter.

‘Oh Mummy, you look absolutely fabulous,’ M said, and then when she spotted Tessa near the fireplace, she cried, ‘Beautiful One, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Paris.’

Laughing, tossing back her long, silver-gilt hair, Tessa hurried to M and the two of them hugged.

‘Have you grown taller, or am I shrinking?’ Tessa asked, frowning, and then grinned. ‘So you’re twenty inches taller because you’re wearing your Jimmy Choo shoes. That’s it!’

‘No it isn’t, because I’m not. See, I’m in flats.’ M showed her foot clad in a classic Chanel ballet-slipper-style shoe. ‘And, I’m only an inch taller than you.’

The two of them laughed, and M went on, ‘I just want you to know that I’ve talked Lorne into coming to stay with you. He’s a bit down in the dumps.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I think he’s really lonely, if you really want to know. No woman around.’ She moved across to the sofa, and gave Jack a big hug, whispered against his ear, ‘How did Mum take it—the news I mean?’

‘With resignation,’ Jack answered. ‘In her usual elegant manner.’

Paula joined them near the fireplace and asked M, ‘Do you want a cup of tea, darling? It’s still hot.’

‘I’d love it, and I’m so glad I came over…to see you, Mummy, but how nice that Tessa’s here and Jack. You’ve heard the bad news from Jack?’

‘Yes, indeed we have,’ Paula answered.

‘I’m all for having him demolished by a hit man,’ M announced. ‘And I’d be willing to foot the bill. Ainsley’s a menace.’

Paula and Tessa both stared at her in astonishment, and then Paula suddenly laughed. ‘Really, darling, we can’t go around killing people, or having them killed.’

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t be silly, M.’ Paula shook her head. ‘We’re not murderers, criminals—’

‘Ainsley is,’ M cut in, and said to Tessa, ‘You’d better agree to have bodyguards.’

‘I’ve agreed,’ Tessa answered. ‘I’ve always listened to Jack, you know.’

‘How long are you staying?’ M stared at her eldest sister.

‘I came in with Jean-Claude just for the day, darling. He was coming in on a private plane, so I just hitched a ride to see Mummy.’

‘I’m glad you thought about that, Tessa,’ Paula said and looked at M. ‘What were you saying about Lorne?’ She sounded anxious.

L
innet left the store in Knightsbridge earlier than usual, feeling impatient, nervous and even agitated. As usual, she walked home to her small but charming house a few streets behind Harte’s, where she had lived since her husband’s death.

Once she had let herself in and dumped her holdall in the entrance hall, she hurried into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looked inside. She had been right: there was lots of food including smoked salmon, country pâté, and the makings for a tasty salad. She noticed a cottage pie that Carla, the housekeeper, had apparently made that morning. Enough for dinner…to satisfy a hungry man.

Whirling around, Linnet crossed the hall, went into the living room to check that everything was in place, and then strode into the bedroom. She quickly changed out of her black, tailored suit, her uniform for work, put on a pair of beige trousers and a matching light cashmere sweater, and hung up her suit.

Turning, her eyes caught the bedside table. The telephone sat there along with a message pad in a leather holder, and that was all. Until recently, a photograph of her late husband in a silver
frame had stood there—a photograph she had owned for many years and kept next to her bed.

Several months ago, her sister Tessa had removed it, saying to her, ‘I think this has to find another home, Linny darling. Such as the living room, or your den.’

She had frowned at her sister, had started to protest, but Tessa had held up her hand, shaking her head vehemently. ‘Listen to me, darling, Julian has been dead for two years and you’ve got to move on. Put that photograph somewhere else; don’t have it in your bedroom, for heaven’s sake. One day, sooner rather than later, hopefully, there’ll be another man in this bed, and believe me, there’s nothing more off-putting than a photograph of a woman’s late husband staring at both of you when you’re making love.’

Linnet remembered now how she had given Tessa a reproachful look, and muttered something about there being a shortage of eligible men, and Tessa had picked up the photograph, put it in her hands, and led her out of the room.

‘You’re wrong, there are plenty of men around, but how would you know? You’re always at work. So tell me how you’re going to meet any? I’ll have to start procuring for you. How about that?’

Tessa had suddenly started to laugh, and so had she and, taking her sister’s advice, she had put Julian’s photograph in her den that day. And as she had done so, she had thought about Simon Baron and the crush she had on him, and had sighed to herself, believing him to be far beyond her reach.

How wrong she had been. Suddenly she thought about the cab ride through the park at lunchtime today, and blessed that cabbie for taking such a big swerve and throwing her into Simon’s arms in the process. She also marvelled at herself for having had the nerve to kiss him. She smiled to herself. She had known he wanted to kiss her the moment she had stared up into his eyes, seen the desire in them, the yearning.

Leaving the bedroom, she went downstairs to the garden floor, and the cosy dining room that opened onto the garden. She had phoned Carla earlier to ask her to set the small circular table for supper for two, and the housekeeper had done so before going home.

Linnet nodded to herself as she glanced around, pleased with the blue and white colour scheme, and her favourite antique pieces that fitted so well in here. Buying the house and decorating it had kept her busy after Julian’s sudden death, and had helped her to cope.

And the house had been a new beginning…as tonight was going to be a new beginning…

Linnet looked at the carriage clock on the living-room mantelpiece. It said five forty. Twenty minutes to wait before Simon arrived. She had come home from the store far too early, and now she didn’t know quite where to put herself.

She rose, walked across the room, straightened a silk cushion on the dark rose-coloured sofa, wandered out into the foyer, saw her holdall, took it upstairs to her den on the next floor.

Seating herself at the desk, she looked at yesterday’s mail, dismissed it as not important, stood again, and walked over to the window. After looking down into the street, she went back downstairs, feeling nervous, expectant and just a little afraid.

Her mind entirely focused on Simon, she suddenly wondered what he would prefer to drink tonight and flew into the kitchen to look in the refrigerator. There was a bottle of white wine chilling as usual, and now she added pink champagne and some bottles of water, and noticed to her surprise that her hands were shaking.

God, what’s wrong with me? she wondered, realizing that her heart had started to pound and that she was on tenterhooks.
And all because of Simon Baron. Whom she had known for donkey’s years and saw every day at work. But it was different now. Because she had kissed him in the cab and he had kissed her back, and they had confessed they were keen on each other, more than keen. And on the way back to the store, after lunch with Jack, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. Nor had she. She wanted to touch him, kiss him, hold him…possess him…and be possessed by him.

The doorbell shrilled, and she jumped, startled. Linnet glanced at her watch, and saw that it was ten minutes to six.
He was early.
Trying to keep herself as calm as possible, she walked to the front door, looked through the spy-hole and saw that it
was
Simon.

Opening the door, smiling, she said, ‘Hi,’ and stopped because her mouth had gone totally dry.

‘Hi,’ he said back, and stepped into the hall.

Linnet closed the door and turned to face him, shaking so much inside she was convinced he would notice.

‘I’m sorry I’m early,’ Simon murmured. ‘But, well, er, er, well, I couldn’t wait to get here, to see you.’

Linnet stood leaning against the front door, staring at him, thinking how wonderful he looked. He had dispensed with the tie he always wore to work, and looked more casual and relaxed in his open-necked pale blue shirt. She wanted to make love to him. Her mouth was drier than ever.

He cleared his throat, appeared anxious.

She finally spoke. ‘I know, I was the same. I came home far too early…’ Her voice trailed off. She took a step forward, and then another, and so did he. Suddenly they were rushing into each other’s arms. His mouth was on hers, and he was kissing her with passion, pressing her close to his body. His tongue touched hers, and she clung to him, wondering how she was managing to stand; her legs felt weak and she was trembling.

Against her hair, he murmured softly, ‘It was unbearable this afternoon…I wanted you so much.’

‘It was mutual.’ Drawing away from him, she took his hand, led him into the living room, asking him what he wanted to drink, speaking in a mumble.

‘Nothing right now,’ he replied. ‘I just want to hold you in my arms and kiss you.’ As he spoke they half sat, half fell onto the sofa together, and she reached for him, drew closer to him, and their mouths met again. His hand was in her hair, on her cheek, touching her neck, and then he slipped it under her sweater, unhooked her bra, stroked and fondled her breast.

Linnet could hardly breathe. Every part of her ached for him, longed for him. She wanted his hands on her everywhere, touching, feeling, probing; she longed to touch him, needed the feel of his skin under her hands. Her face was growing hotter and hotter; she was flushed, excited, and the heat suddenly was spreading up through her legs into the pit of her stomach. Then, unexpectedly, he pushed her sweater up, and brought his mouth to her breast, lavishly kissing her until she let out a small moan of pleasure.

Simon stopped abruptly, and said, ‘Let’s find a bed…
please.
’

Pulling down her sweater, Linnet jumped up, took hold of his hand and drew him across the room to the front hall and into her bedroom.

Simon closed the door, leaned against it, took her face between his hands and stared into her eyes. But he remained silent and so did she.

Their clothes were swiftly discarded, and they lay together on the bed, still staring at each other, touching each other’s faces. But a moment later they were kissing again, and his passion for her soared. And soared. They found themselves clutching each other; their mutual yearning knew no bounds. When Simon finally entered her, and swiftly so, Linnet caught her breath, and
so did he. And as he moved against her, saying her name over and over again, she did the same, and she gave herself to him entirely.

Simon pulled her into his arms and brought the duvet up over them, and they did not speak for a while, lost as they were in their own meandering thoughts.

Eventually he murmured, ‘I could stay like this forever…I feel as if I have the whole world in my arms.’

‘That’s a lovely thing to say. And I have the man of my dreams in my bed.’

‘Can he stay?’

‘Tonight?’

‘Yes, tonight, and perhaps other nights,’ Simon replied.

‘Just try and leave!’ she exclaimed.

He laughed; she had always had the ability to bring a smile to his face. ‘What I meant was: can I stay the whole night, and have breakfast with you tomorrow?’

‘If you really, really want to, I’ll consider it.’

His answer was to wrap his arms around her tighter, and nuzzle the back of her neck. After a moment or two, he said, ‘Isn’t life amazing, Linnet? Just imagine, if that car hadn’t come too close to the cab, the cabbie wouldn’t have swerved—’

‘I was just thinking that earlier,’ she interrupted, laughing.

‘But it goes backwards, actually,’ Simon went on. ‘Because if you hadn’t asked Jack if you could join us for lunch, we’d never have been in that cab in the first place.’

‘I’ll confess something to you, Simon. I wanted to come to lunch because of
you,
because I wanted to be with you, sitting close to you…’

‘We’ve been a couple of fools, considering we’re grown-ups,’ he asserted.

‘Yes, we have. But sometimes timing is important, and the time is right for me, Simon. For you to be in my life.’

‘I’m so glad to hear that. And it is for me, too.’

‘Are you…
free
?’ she asked softly, and wanted to add,
to be mine,
but resisted the temptation.

He said, ‘I broke up with someone almost a year ago and there’s been nobody since…but I don’t know that I’m
free.
’

Linnet struggled in his arms, and turned around to face him. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked, her expression fierce.

‘Don’t look like that! What I meant is that I’m not free because I’m so involved with you, Linnet. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be free again.’

‘And neither will I,’ she said, touching his face lovingly.

Linnet stood staring at her wedding photograph, which was on a chest in the living room, her throat tight with emotion. What she saw was herself gazing into Julian’s face, he into hers. It was a marvellous picture of them both, taken at Pennistone Royal. For a moment she felt sad, but she had to let sadness go. She must.

There was a slight noise, and she straightened, swung around. Simon was standing in the doorway of the living room, hesitating, obviously not wanting to intrude. She forced a smile, and said swiftly, ‘Simon, don’t stand there, darling. I came in here to turn on some lamps, and noticed my wedding picture as I passed the chest. We weren’t married very long before he died so suddenly; but, as you know, we’d grown up together…’ She stopped, wondering why she was explaining. He knew about her life.

Simon nodded, walked into the room. He took hold of her arm and led her over to the sofa. As they sat down he said quietly, ‘You were childhood sweethearts. I understand how you feel, Linnet. At least I think I do…it’s hard to let go, in a way.’

‘How perceptive you are,’ she murmured, looking up into his face, noticing his grey-blue eyes now looked bluer, a reflection of his shirt, she decided.

‘You spent most of your life with him,’ Simon remarked, ‘and he’s part of you. He’s deep in your heart, and he always will be, I realize that. No one can, or should, completely erase the past, especially if it was a happy past, and memories are very important, Linnet. You loved Julian, you were married to him, and naturally it’s going to seem…well, perhaps a bit strange…being with me.’

‘I know what you mean,’ she answered. ‘But oddly enough, it doesn’t seem strange. I feel very at ease with you, natural, comfortable, and that’s because I’ve known you so long…and I trust you, Simon, feel safe with you.’

‘You can, and you are. I’ll always look after you,’ he answered, his sincerity apparent. ‘I just need to say this: I don’t think you should suppress your feelings about Julian because of me, or attempt to hide them from me. You have your memories and you should cherish them. Look, we’re both in our thirties, bringing lots of baggage to this relationship, i.e. our pasts, but we mustn’t let that stuff get in the way or cause us problems. Things happened to us before you and I were involved. I wasn’t married to anyone, but I did have a couple of relationships that were meaningful. However, they don’t have anything to do with…
us.
Nor does your marriage to Julian.’

Simon searched her face, his eyes full of concern, his expression serious. ‘I suppose what I’m trying to say is that what
we
have together has nothing to do with anyone else or whatever it was we had with them.’

‘I agree with you,’ Linnet was quick to say. ‘And I’d like us to be honest and truthful with each other.’ She leaned closer to him, her eyes focused intently on his. ‘I don’t want to pretend to other people either, pretend we’re not seeing each other. Anyway, it’s nobody else’s business, is it?’

He pulled her towards him, kissed her on the cheek. ‘We are of like minds, Linnet, and I just want to tell you that this is the happiest day of my life, knowing you feel the way I do, and that we’re going to be together.’

‘Oh, you mean this is not a one-night stand?’ she teased, an auburn brow lifting coquettishly.

‘No, it’s not, you little minx!’ he exclaimed, grinning at her. ‘It’s a rest-of-my-life stand, that’s what this is.’