Party Games (31 page)

She spent five minutes whistling fruitlessly, and was just starting to envisage an all-night search party when a black shape came rustling through the field.

‘There you are!’ she said in relief as Bess gambolled over. ‘Where have you been?’

There was something hanging round the dog’s neck. She bent down to get a proper look. Someone had tied a purple ribbon there. Even weirder, there was a little silver barrel hanging off her collar. Bess had to know whoever had put it on; she was funny about people going near her head.

She examined the barrel. There was a piece of white paper inside with a handwritten message.

Seeing as you don’t want to see me, I’ve gone through the dogs instead. We need to talk. Dinner at mine. Beau
.

Astonished, she looked round, but he was nowhere
to be seen. How the hell had he done this? She glanced down at the note again.

We need to talk
. It sounded ominous. No kiss at the end, either.

She was setting herself up for another fall, but the desire to see Beau, even just one last time, was overwhelming.

Racing back inside, she headed for the shower.

Ridings was lit up like a lighthouse when Fleur drove up thirty minutes later. An unfamiliar Golf was parked round the side. Her heart sank. She couldn’t handle any more of Beau’s stuck-up friends.

She rang the doorbell and stepped back. Her heartbeat was slow and painful. The dress she’d chosen to wear was an insane choice. She should have worn something smarter.

After what seemed like an age the door opened and Beau stood before her, taller and more handsome than ever. He was obviously fresh out of the shower, damp blond hair slicked back off the fine planes of his face. He was wearing a simple grey T-shirt and chino shorts, his elegant brown feet bare. Her stomach did a slow somersault.

‘Hello, you,’ he said.

‘Hi. I brought this.’ She held up the bottle of Blossom Hill.

‘Thank you, darling.’ He took it off her and kissed her on the cheek. She caught a waft of body heat and citrus aftershave and felt her stomach flip over again.

He gave her his lovely smile. ‘It’s good to see you, Fleur.’

He took her straight out to the pool, where the table had been laid for two. She sat down and watched as he went over to the bar to mix her a drink. A beautiful sunset glowed overhead.

‘Have we got company?’ she called.

He came back with two clear cocktails and handed her one. ‘No, why do you ask?’

‘I saw a Golf outside.’

‘Ah, that’s Sergio’s car. He’s my chef.’

‘We’ve got a chef cooking us dinner?’

He flopped down in the chair opposite. ‘Well, you are a very special guest.’

She was becoming more confused by the second. Was this meant to be a nice send-off? She took an overly large sip of her drink and started coughing.

‘Careful,’ Beau said. ‘I like my martinis strong.’

She surreptiously wiped her eyes. ‘How did you know I’d come?’

‘Of course you were going to come. I told Bess not to take no for an answer.’

‘She’s wary of strangers, I’m surprised you got near her.’

‘My methods are simple but effective. Fillet steak.’

Fleur gave an appalled giggle. ‘You fed my dog fillet steak?’

‘The very best. Be warned, she’s had a taste of the high life now.’

‘You can pay for it when she won’t eat anything else.’

Beau grinned. ‘Deal.’

A man in chef’s whites was walking up the side of the pool towards them. Beau sat up. ‘Ah, the first course is served.’

It was moules marinière, followed by the biggest, fattest langoustines she had ever seen, swimming in garlic butter. Beau produced a bottle of white wine that danced on her tongue, and slipped down her throat like a silken waterfall.

The food was sublime and the wine even better, but she was still on edge. Why was she here? He had made it clear he wasn’t interested in her, yet here she was being wined and dined.
He’s letting me down gently
, Fleur thought miserably. Was she really that much of a sympathy case?

He was telling her about his chef. ‘Sergio’s from the Amalfi Coast. He’s an absolute maestro. I stole him from some friends of mine. They weren’t very happy.’

‘Do all rich people have a chef?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, Fleur. You tell me.’

‘I’m not the one born with a silver spoon in my mouth.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Of course, Beau Rainford, the spoilt little prince. Never had to want for anything.’

His answer intrigued her. ‘Aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘You don’t exactly do much to dispel the rumours.’

He looked momentarily devilish again. ‘Oh, I’ve lived up to most of the others, don’t worry.’

Why didn’t Beau care if people thought badly of him? ‘Don’t you want people to know who you really are?’ she asked.

‘Not really.’ In the fading half-light his eyes were navy. ‘Who do you think I am?’

‘I don’t think you’re as bad as you make out,’ she said carefully.

The night seemed to hold its breath. Even the gentle
breeze had stopped blowing. She could hear the sloshing of her heart alongside the gentle
slap, slap
of water against the pool edge.

‘I’m sorry you got upset the other night,’ he told her. ‘I didn’t mean it to end like that.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I mean, I do know how I’d have liked it to have ended. You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I have too much respect for you.’

It was the answer she was least expecting. ‘But …’ She trailed off. ‘I thought you just felt sorry for me.’

‘God, Fleur,’ he said quietly. ‘Will you stop putting yourself down?’

He got up and came to sit right beside her. ‘Listen here, OK? I think you’re funny and adorable and brave and prickly.’ He smoothed a strand of hair off her face, holding it between his fingers. ‘And I love this. I love the way you stand up for yourself, yet you still blush a hundred times a minute.’

‘I do not!’ she protested, blushing violently.

‘Fleur, look at me.’ He tipped her chin up and made her look at him. ‘I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you. It’s a hell of a task to run that farm. I know how difficult your life is.’

‘I’m OK,’ she mumbled.

‘You keep saying that, sweetheart,’ he said gently. ‘But every time I look at you, I just want to gather you up in my arms and look after you.’

Unexpected tears sprang into her eyes.

‘Oh Christ, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said.

‘It’s fine.’ She blinked the tears away. ‘It’s not that often that people get where I’m coming from.’

‘I mean it,’ he told her. ‘You’re a hell of a girl.’

Her hands started to tremble. She put her glass down.

‘Oh, sweetheart, what are we going to do?’ he said soulfully. ‘All I know is that I want to tell you things I’ve never told anyone before. You have the most extraordinary effect on me. I feel like a schoolboy around you.’

‘Take me to bed,’ she whispered.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.’

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’

He leant in and planted the softest kiss on her lips. ‘We can take this as slow as you like. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.’

She found herself melting into him, insubstantial against Beau’s powerful body. Fleur knew then that he was capable of loving and hurting her in equal measure.

Beau’s bedroom was white, minimal, an entire wall taken up by one window. The moon had come out, bathing the room in luminous light.

She stood in the doorway clutching his hand. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he told her.

He led her over to the bed and laid her down with infinite care. As he lay down beside her and started kissing her, Fleur felt like her whole body had come alive. Their kissing got harder and frantic. He rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed. She could feel his erection pressing into her body.

A moment later he pulled away, panting slightly.

‘Have I done something wrong?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Quite the opposite.’ He blinked and shook his head. ‘Let’s try again, shall we?’

He started kissing her again more slowly. ‘Do you have these freckles everywhere?’ Beau murmured, planting a line of heavenly kisses along Fleur’s collarbone.

‘N-not everywhere.’ Her nipples had whipped up into hard peaks, the throbbing now a drumming between her legs.

When he tried to take her dress off Fleur froze. ‘It’s OK, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,’ he told her.

‘It’s not that.’ She looked away miserably.

Beau pushed himself up so his forearms were either side of her. ‘What is it, then?’

‘I’m s-shy.’ She stuttered horribly on the last word. ‘A-about my body.’

‘Sweetheart, you have nothing to be shy about. You have a fantastic body. In fact, I’m banning you from ever wearing another piece of shapeless clothing again.’

‘I hate my boobs,’ she said miserably.

‘What?’ He looked down at them. ‘Your boobs are amazing.’

‘No they’re not. They’re too big.’

‘Let me be the judge of that.’ He started to tug her dress gently over her head.

‘This matronly bra isn’t doing them any favours,’ he said, sliding a hand round her back to undo the clasp. He pulled the bra off and her boobs fell out, full and heavy. He pushed them up in his hands, the spare flesh pooling through his fingers. ‘You’re beautiful and they’re beautiful. You have nothing to worry about.’

He started fingering a rosy pink nipple between long tanned fingers. It grew even stiffer.

‘God, you’re gorgeous,’ he said.

As he sat back to pull off his T-shirt, Fleur had the weirdest sensation: as if she was a spectator looking in, watching it happen to somebody else. Was Beau really straddled above her, body hard and magnificent, beautiful face full of intent?

Tentatively she reached up and ran a hand across the corrugated-iron stomach. He moved deftly out of his chino shorts, revealing long, muscular thighs. There was a definite swell of penis in the tight white pants. She had a moment of panic. It looked
really
big.

He lay back next to her and put a warm hand on her quivering belly.

‘Relax, sweetheart.’

He started to kiss her again, tongue pushing into her mouth, teeth tugging on her lower lip. They kissed and kissed until Fleur wasn’t sure where she started and he ended. She desperately wanted him to touch her. Finally, just as she was about to spontaneously combust, his hand slid down her stomach into her knickers.

‘Christ, you’re soaking.’

‘Oh!’ she breathed as Beau’s fingers slid down on her clitoris and started to rub gently. It was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced.

Next her knickers were pulled off and thrown off into the darkness.

‘Don’t stop!’ she panted, when he eventually looked up from between her legs.

‘I have no intention of stopping.’ Reaching up to the bedside table, he opened the drawer. Fleur saw the
metallic flash of a condom packet. Her stomach rolled over.

He wriggled out of his pants and his cock sprang out. It was so big Fleur gave an involuntary giggle.

He raised an amused eyebrow. ‘Is something funny?’

‘I-I’m sorry. I always laugh when I’m nervous.’

He silenced her with his mouth, and she had the disturbingly erotic sensation of tasting herself for the first time. Sweet, yet musky. Like freshly cut hay, she randomly thought.

His energy had changed into something hungry and expectant. He nudged her legs apart with his knee. ‘Oh, Fleur,’ he said into her ear. ‘You’ve no idea how much I want this.’

She was pinned under his weight. She couldn’t move. The tip of his penis was pressing into her. Any moment now.

‘I’m a virgin,’ she whispered. It was so quiet she didn’t know if he’d heard.

He sat up like a shot. ‘What?’

‘T-this is my first time.’

‘Sweetheart, you should have said something.’ He looked stunned.

‘I-I didn’t want to put you off,’ she said miserably. ‘All the women you’ve slept with must have been amazing in bed.’

‘Don’t be so silly.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve never had a boyfriend?’

‘I did sort of, but I never went all the way with him.’ She wanted to cry; she’d ruined everything! ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What the hell are you sorry about?’

‘For being a virgin.’

‘Oh, Fleur.’ He half laughed. ‘I’m sorry for coming on too strong,’ he told her, stroking her cheek.

‘You didn’t!’ She clung on to him. ‘Please, I really want this.’

He gazed into her eyes for what seemed the longest time. ‘You sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘OK. I’ll take it nice and slow.’ Repositioning himself, very slowly, he pushed himself in her. As a sharp pain shot through her, she gave an involuntary gasp.

He looked worried. ‘Am I hurting you?’

‘Yes, but in a nice way.’

‘How about if I do this?’ He moved out and in again, super-gently.

‘That’s lovely.’ It was still painful, but in the most exquisite way. He started rocking back and forward, getting her used to him.

It took a few minutes to find their rhythm. He was a patient, tender instructor who took things at her speed. ‘How about that? Is that nice?’ he asked constantly. ‘Wrap your legs round my back, sweetheart, you’ll feel it deeper then. Is that too much? Wow, you feel amazing. This is incredible, angel.’

‘It is?’ She couldn’t believe she was having amazing sex!

‘You have no idea. Hold on, I want to see you on top.’

Next moment, she was sitting astride him. He smiled at her; taut and tanned against the white sheets. He took hold of her hips, rocking her back and forth. ‘Does this feel good?’

‘Amazing!’ The momentum started to build up
again. She started grinding against him, chasing the hot, tight, exciting feeling.

‘Don’t stop, sweetheart.’ He gripped her by the hips, driving her on him.

‘Oh God!’ Fleur cried, as the most amazing feeling burst through her body. Exhilarated, she flopped down on his chest. The world had changed.
She
had changed.

Beau looked delighted. ‘You were spectacular, sweetheart.’

‘But you haven’t had yours yet.’

He kissed her again. ‘Don’t worry, we’ve only just started.’