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Memories flicked through her mind—memories of how they had made love on his plane on the return journey from Venice. Memories of how, in the intervening weeks since that trip, she had been powerless to resist him. It seemed he just had to snap his fingers for her and she was there. She kept telling herself that she was going to finish things, but each time she spoke to him or saw him she put it off. She couldn’t do it.
Then he’d informed her that he had to go away to Switzerland on business and she had convinced herself that he probably wouldn’t return to London and that the affair was over. He’d been away for five days now, and as he hadn’t phoned once, that certainty had grown. She’d tried to tell herself that she didn’t care but just hearing his voice now made her realize what a lie that was.
‘Hello, Nicholas, where are you?’ Somehow she managed to make her voice sound coolly polite.
‘I’m in London, at the hotel.’
‘Was it a successful trip?’
‘So-so. My work schedule has been a bit hectic. How about you? Have you missed me?’
The arrogance of the man still had the power to incense her. ‘Well, like you, I’ve been a bit busy for that.’
‘Sounds like we are both in need of some relaxation. Why don’t I send the car over for you this evening and we’ll have dinner at the hotel?’
He really thought that he could just pick her up and drop her at whim! Admittedly, over the past weeks, she’d agreed to see him many times—and had very much enjoyed the time they’d spent together. But she couldn’t help thinking he’d had things far too much his own way for too long.
‘Actually, tonight isn’t good for me. I’ve got to work until seven; I have a few meetings and it’s going to be pretty intense. I’ll be fit for nothing except an early night when I get home.’ It was true; she really did have to work late. The only pretence was the fact that she really would have given anything to see him afterwards.
‘An early night sounds good to me,’ he replied huskily. ‘My driver can pick you up from your office.’
‘And how is that going to look?’ She lowered her tone and glanced around the open-plan office to make sure no one could hear what she was saying. ‘I thought we’d agreed to keep our private life secret?’
‘We did,’ he agreed nonchalantly.
‘Well, then, it’s hardly going to be a secret if there is a great big white stretch limo outside the front door of the office waiting for me, is it?’
He laughed at that. ‘Make something up. Tell anyone who asks that I wanted to see you to discuss the campaign.’
‘And then my boss will want to know exactly what was said—and if, for instance, you’ve made up your mind about the follow-up adverts.’
‘Tell her I’m thinking about it.’
‘And are you?’
There was a slight pause. ‘Not right now—no, I told you, I want to see how the first run of advertisements work out before going any further.’
‘Well, that’s fair enough, but I don’t feel like drawing attention to the fact that you are thinking about it so hard. Let’s just leave it tonight. I don’t feel a hundred per cent well, anyway.’
‘Why, what’s the matter with you?’
‘I’m just tired, I guess.’ Cat glanced up as one of her colleagues approached her desk. ‘Look, I’ve got to go; it’s very busy in here. Ring me next week if you get time.’
She put the phone down.
‘Cat, can you process these figures for me?’ Claire put a stack of papers down in front of her.
‘Yes—sure; when do you need them?’ Cat was only half interested; her mind was going back over her conversation with Nicholas. Perversely she wished she hadn’t put the phone down on him and that she had agreed to see him tonight. She really missed him. But that was pathetic—and she wasn’t going to be like that, she told herself. Anyway it was true; people at the office would get suspicious if they saw Nicholas’s car picking her up.
She had asked that they keep the affair secret because she had been concerned that it would reflect badly on her work—mixing business and pleasure wasn’t encouraged—plus it might undermine the accomplishment of bringing in such a good client.
Nicholas had agreed without hesitation; in fact, he had added a few provisos of his own and suggested they keep the affair secret not only from her office but from friends and family too. ‘It’s best that way,’ he had told her smoothly. ‘Once the news is out that I’m seeing someone, the gossip columnists start getting involved and, before you know it, they will be printing stories about us, delving into your family background. Any privacy you had will be lost and sometimes it’s not pleasant.’
It probably wasn’t pleasant and she had agreed readily. She was an intensely private person anyway, and she certainly didn’t want any scandal about her family and her inheritance circulating. But it was also very convenient for Nicholas. It meant he didn’t have to introduce her socially; it meant that she was officially just a mistress.
She looked down at
the papers in front of her and tried to concentrate. She felt a bit sick, but then that was nothing unusual—she’d been having bouts of nausea all week. There was obviously a bug going around the office. Claire had been off work all last week with it.
