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He stubbed out his final cigarette. ‘So basically you want me to teach you how to be good in bed?’
‘Yes,’ Ella agreed.
‘Bloody hell.’
What did that mean, Ella wondered apprehensively. She had made a total fool of herself and for that she could blame too many Martinis. She was now stone-cold sober, though, and beginning to feel sick.
There was no way he was going to do what she wanted, Oliver decided. Hell, the women he took to bed wanted him, not someone else. He had a sudden surge of need to have the satisfaction of making her want him.
‘You’re sure?’ he checked.
Ella nodded. He was going to do it? That feeling invading her belly had to be relief, she decided, and not a sudden desire to change her mind.
‘OK then, let’s get started.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Rose opened her eyes cautiously, reluctant to wake up but not knowing why until she remembered the events of the previous evening. She was in Cadogan Square, in Emerald’s house and Emerald’s guest bedroom.
Emerald had quite obviously expected her to disappear, having driven her home, but Rose, mindful of what the doctor had said, had refused, pointing out that she had given him her word that she would stay.
‘Look, I am not going to have concussion,’ Emerald had told her.
‘You don’t know that,’ Rose had retorted, refusing to give in.
She looked at the bedside clock, groaning when she saw that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning. It was just as well she didn’t have any client appointments today, she admitted as she pushed back the bedclothes and pulled on the satin robe that Emerald had given her last night, along with what had looked like a brand-new set of expensive underwear–a satin half-cup bra ornamented with lace and a pair of matching French knickers–not her sort of thing at all.
Something in her expression must have given her away because Emerald had taunted her, saying, ‘They won’t corrupt you, or turn you into a sex maniac, you know. My God, that would be the day that anything or anyone could do that to Auntie Amber’s little darling.’
Emerald at her best–and her worse.
Rose sat down on the bed. Last night had, in its way, been almost as crazy as the night Pete had spiked her coffee. If anyone had told her that she would ever be in a situation with Emerald that would make her feel protective towards her, worried about her, she would have told them categorically that they were mad. And yet last night…Inside her head she still had an image of Emerald clutching her jacket, with tears in her eyes. Not acting or manipulating, but really crying because she felt afraid and alone.
Half an hour later, showered and dressed, Rose knocked on Emerald’s bedroom door. When there was no answer she turned the handle quietly and opened it anyway.
She had expected Emerald to be asleep, but instead she was awake, sitting up, looking fretful.
‘I’m going down to make myself a cup of tea,’ Rose told her. ‘Do you want one?’
‘No…yes…Rose, don’t go yet. There’s something I want to say.’
Was she going to thank her again, Rose wondered ruefully. That would make it another day to be highlighted in her diary.
‘I want you to promise me that you won’t ever say anything about last night to anyone, but especially to Mummy. I know you’re her favourite, Rose, and that that was why you did what you did last night.’
Rose frowned. She wasn’t going to argue with Emerald about who Amber’s favourite was or wasn’t–there wasn’t any point–but she was going to put her right on one thing.
‘I didn’t do it for Aunt Amber.’
‘Then who did you do it for? Not for me.’
‘I did it for myself,’ Rose told her, and as she said the words she knew suddenly that they were true. A wonderful sense of strength and power and rightness flowed through her. She had done what she believed to be right, not out of fear or to earn herself favour but because it had been right.
She turned back towards the door,
‘Rose,’ Emerald stopped her, ‘you haven’t promised yet.’
Rose looked at her, on the point of telling her that she had never had any intention of telling anyone, and then thought quickly.
