Richer Ground (8 page)

They were almost there, after a stop for lunch at a pub, where she'd had an extra large glass of wine and a very tasty lasagne. After that they'd had a long journey into the city on the dreaded A12. Everyone hated this road with a vengeance. It went from three down to one lane and was always backed up with traffic, night and day. Right now, at three thirty in the afternoon, they were winding their way through the West End at a slow slog.

But despite their slow progress through the traffic, she was having a great time. Chatting away merrily, wine fuelled, ten to the dozen, in her no holds barred Essex accent. He didn't bat an eyelid when she dropped her aitches and slurred her vowels. He just didn't seem to care about her common accent or manner of speech anymore, if he ever really did. And neither did she. Not when she was with him.

“What was your trip about anyway? You never said...”

“
Our technical team are developing a diamond grading device. It means we won't have to do it all by eye anymore.”

“
So you're out of a job?”

He shook his head. “Oh no... It’s just as heavy on the manpower as before, we have to set the parameters for each gem. But the Triax-box, as it's to be known, will provide a more scientifically accurate result. It's very easy to miss faults and inclusions. This should avoid it or cut that down substantially. A lot of time and money can be wasted on cutting bad diamonds.”

“So you'll be staring in a box all day, will you?”

She was quite jealous of the diamonds, sitting there staring up into his eyes... They really were quite beautiful.

“I guess so,” he laughed. “When I grade anyway. We do them in batches every so often. I'm away a week at a time for that, usually, plus other visits to Australia, South Africa, India, and just about everywhere for new seam and potential mine evaluation and merchant meetings. I'm not grading all the time, you know.”

“
What colour diamonds are there...?”

“
Every colour you can think of.”

“
Black, red, purple?”

He gave her a quick sideways look and smiled to himself.

“Yep... And purple's in the blue range. I've seen a few with a tint of lilac and a couple of fancy purples. A fancy is the strongest shade of colour.”

“
I like the idea of a purple diamond. It's a little different, isn't it?”

“
They're very rarely found. Pinks, blues, and yellows are the most common colours. Only one percent of all diamonds mined are any colour at all. And of that, only 10 percent are strong colours and fancy... They're extremely rare. We grade clear whites mostly, but the colours are always mine.”

She was very interested in the world of diamonds. Especially now that she had some of her own.

He parked the car and entered the Hilton, strolling up to the check in desk.

“What time are we eating?” she asked.

“
The table's booked for eight.”

“
So lots of free time then?” She smiled at him naughtily and he flashed his eyes back.

He filled in the guest registration form and the clerk called the porter over.

“I think we can manage,” she laughed. Her case was the size of a handbag.

“
The porter has to escort us upstairs. He may as well carry our bags on the trip,” Rick explained.

She passed her case to the porter, including the disguised Ann Summers bag secreted inside a large black Next bag.

“How posh, pointless, and decadent...” she said with a giggle, linking her arm through his as they entered the lift behind the porter.

He dropped a smoochy little kiss on her mouth as they ascended. Her hormones were getting going nicely.

They arrived at their level and followed the porter to their door. She looked at the silver number plate with widening eyes

Suite One?

The door opened and she walked inside gasping at the sight before her. Suite One was a very large suite. A massive vase of roses sat on the coffee table alongside a magnum of champagne, which was chilling on ice.

Rick paid the porter and he left, discreetly and quickly.

As he closed the door, she had to get it off her chest.

“
Rick... you are way too extravagant... for God's sake, it's not our bloody honeymoon! Where's that whip, I think you need a good flogging my boy.”

“
Much as I'd love a good flogging, a simple 'it's lovely' would have been nicer. Now then, let’s get sorted. Then we can drink up and go for a drunken walk for an hour or two.”

She walked around the suite with a rush of pleasure. The bedroom was luxury like she'd never known. The massive bed was covered in a pale grey silky patterned cover, matching the padded headboard, a silver grey deep pile carpet lay on the floor.. The bathroom made her sigh out loud with the desire to soak herself in it, somewhere. She hung up her dress and other clothes in the wardrobe and placed her cosmetics in the bathroom as he sorted out his stuff.

They sat together on the sofa as he pushed the cork out of the large bottle with a pop. A gush of the pale yellow nectar flowed into her tall fluke, the bubbles fizzing over her hand and the glass misting with its chill.

She took her first delicious sip.

“
Mmmm, I do like a drop of fizz, don't you?” she sighed.

“
I like a lot more than a drop.”

“
So I see... D'you think we'll be capable of walking after a whole magnum?”

“
Probably not.”

“
I don't want to be sick or incapable on my great night of wining, dining, and passion.”

“
Have as much as you feel comfortable with.”

“
And I don't want you to be sick or incapable either,” she added pointedly.

“
As if...”

“
Rick...”

“
Yes...?”

“
The roses are beautiful. All of it is. I'm completely overwhelmed and a little bit speechless again.”

“
Get drinking beauty, that'll loosen your tongue.”

“
That's not all it'll loosen.”

“
That's the whole idea.” He clinked his glass against hers and gave her a barely-there touch of a kiss which made her ache for more. “So... Here's to us...” He said quietly.

“
Yes... us...” She repeated. She prayed the us would work out because she was rather into him.

The London Eye was a trip a half. Sober she was sure it would have been been really good fun. But rather drunk, as she suddenly appeared to be, it was stomach churning-ly dreadful. Looking out from such a height made her feel even giddier than ever. She wasn't that good with heights anyway. And, it seemed, especially not good at experiencing them from inside a glass ball. Her head was spinning and she was terrified she'd puke in front of everyone. She sat down and concentrated hard on her feet. Thankfully she made it down and outside before the puking happened. Her head wasn't her own and she felt out of control. She couldn't even stand up properly.

What the hell have I done...?

After she fell over twice, he picked her up and carried her back to their hotel room. A good ten minute's walk away. She hung around his neck, as he tut-tutted and grumbled about how heavy she was
.

For fuck’s sake, I don't even weigh nine stone, for crying out loud...

“I'm so sorry,” she moaned. Lying prostrate on the bed.

“
It's my fault entirely. I never realised you'd be so badly affected by three glasses of fizz. I shouldn't have kept on topping you up. But it came on really suddenly, didn't it? You were only a little giggly when we left. Look, shall I cancel the meal?”

“
No I probably need to eat something. I'll be okay. Put it back an hour... Maybe two...”

He got on the phone to the restaurant.

“Nine thirty is the latest they can do. Let’s get you sobered up shall we...”

Ten minutes later he'd forced three double shots of espresso down her. Which made her gag like hell. But at least they stayed down.

Then a large bottle of sparkling water made it's way down her throat, glass after glass.

“
Oh please, no more...” she groaned. “I'm drowning in the damn stuff...” her head was still spinning and nausea was threatening again.

“
Now let’s get you in the shower. Strip off will you?”

“
NO!”

“
YES!”

“
This isn't my idea of a fun time Rick. Leave me be... I want to sleep, and then maybe die, if I can...”

He left the bedside and returned a moment later. She could hear the shower running.

“Get your clothes off,” he ordered.

The tone of his voice meant he was highly unimpressed at this stage and wouldn't accept another ‘no.’

She stood up and stripped, with her back to him.

He marched her towards the shower cubicle, smacked her bare backside, and shoved her underneath the cold water, slamming the door shut behind her.

“OH GOD!!! I'LL KILL YOU. IT'S FUCKING FREEZING...” she screamed, turning the temperature up to full blast.

She could hear him laughing, loudly behind her .. just outside the cubicle.

“Richer, I'll get you for this... YOU BASTARD... Jesus!”

But she got used to the cold water fast and turned it down to cool again when it started to warm up. It was pleasant and reviving. She stood there for an age letting it run over her head, as it picked her up and shook her out of her fogginess. She washed her hair and soaped herself in a cool dream. Her whole body tingled with pleasure as she finally turned it off, wringing out her hair and getting out to wrap herself in a huge fluffy white towel. She cleaned her teeth and then padded across the thick pile of the bedroom carpet where he was waiting, lounging on the bed.

She flopped down next to him with a long sigh.

“
That was nice.”

“
Was it now?”

They looked at each other and started to laugh. In fact they laughed so hard they were rolling around the bed in hysterics.

“You're such a little piss artist... honestly!” he groaned through his sobbing laughter.

“
Sorry about the puking. I didn't mean to get it all over your shoes...”

“
Not a problem. Shoes can be cleaned... I'll get your mum on it.  Highly expensive puke though,” he spluttered.

That set them off again.

After a minute she calmed down a little and sat up trying to pull herself together. Her eye caught sight of the coffee table and the cause of her fall from grace, still sitting there, on ice.

“
Oh look, there's half a bottle of Champers over there... fancy a glass or two..?”

“
Don't... I can't stand it!” he groaned clutching at his stomach.

She loved his laugh. The deep and sexy sound of it reverberated around her head like an aural orgasm.

She began to hiccup, wildly... probably as a result of the laughing and remnants of her inebriation.

“
You know...this is the funniest day of passion I've had in my entire life,” he said, watching her fast hiccupping fit and going into one again.

“
I … hic... don't... hic... think the passion's... hic...gonna happen... hic... do you?”

“
Oh well... the best laid plans are bound to be a disaster. And I am having fun. Just not the type I imagined.”

“
Perhaps you can just spank... hic...me all night instead. Hic.... For being a bad girl and ruining... hic... everything.”

His face took on a serious look and he pulled her jerking body close against him. He smoothed down her wet hair and his eyes wandered all over her face.

“Ali... you and I'll happen... As and when... I'm not spanking you instead of loving you. It can wait. You're worth waiting for.”

Her heart lurched with his words.

Finally, her hiccups began to subside, after a lot of holding her breath and false stops and starts. She snuggled up to him, and fell into a dreamy sleep.

He shook her awake. It was dark outside. She roused and stretched and gazed at him.

He was ready to go to dinner, sitting on the bed, and she was still wrapped in her damp towel, just about.

His dark blue suit and bright tie made him look so edible. Her mouth watered with want.

“What time is it?” she asked to distract herself.

“Nine... I've given you as long as I could.”

She sat up on the edge of the bed with a little yawn.