His Girl Monday to Friday Read online

  Well, it hadn’t been a disappointment.

  They’d gone into Charles’s bedroom and she’d started taking her clothes off in a businesslike way and throwing them to the floor. Something about this matter-of-fact approach had made him laugh. Then he’d grinned at her, that old grin that she’d always tried to resist in the past—only now.she hadn’t had to resist. He’d started taking off his own clothes and throwing them to the floor, then suddenly he’d been beside her, naked, still grinning, and he’d laughed and thrown his arms around her.

  Her cheek had been pressed against his chest. She’d been able to hear his heart beating; the strong arms had held her close. She’d imagined this moment so many times, and yet the one thing she’d never imagined was that she could feel so absolutely safe. She’d locked her arms behind his back, closing her eyes.

  ‘You’re just doing that because you’re scared to look,’ he teased her, his breath warm in her hair.

  ‘You just want to show off because you’ve spent all those hours at the gym,’ she retorted, a breath of laughter in her voice. ‘I think we should just turn out the light. Speaking as someone who spent all those hours you spent at the gym in bed.’

  He laughed and began kissing her and she kissed him wildly back, and that was the way she remembered it afterwards—that strange mixture of laughter and passion, the way even when he had brought her to the peak of ecstasy it wasn’t the purely physical thing she had somehow imagined because even then he was somehow there with her.

  He lay on his side afterwards, facing her, head propped on his hand. ‘Well?’

  Barbara stared at him. The magazines were full of articles about sex, but she couldn’t remember one ever mentioning what everything looked like afterwards. She’d never seen anything as beautiful as Charles, lying beside her, looking into her face. His eyes were that glorious, glowing green under the black slash of brow, the close-cropped black hair was slightly damp, the planes of his face were shadowed by the light behind him. If she wasn’t careful she would blurt out ‘I love you’ before she knew it.

  ‘It was wonderful,’ she said.

  ‘You’re not supposed to say that,’ he said with a lurking smile. ‘You’re supposed to say “Is that it?” and cut me down to size.’

  Another thing she hadn’t expected was the way all the barriers between them seemed to just fall away. She felt as though she could tell him anything. If she wasn’t careful she probably would.

  ‘It wasn’t the way I expected,’ she said. Her dark blue eyes met his candidly. ‘I thought it would be more impersonal somehow because…well, because you’d done it so many times.’

  He hesitated, then gave her a wry smile. ‘Well, it can be. This must be some kind of first for me too. I don’t think I’ve ever slept with someone I knew so well.’

  She’d have liked to ask if he’d liked that better; she’d have liked him to say it was wonderful for him too, better than it had ever been before. In fact, what she’d really have liked him to say was that he’d suddenly realised that he was madly in love with her and wanted her to marry him.

  ‘Did it—does it make a difference?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s very erotic,’ he said. He stretched out a hand and ran it lightly down her side, his eyes holding hers. ‘Though that may partly be because you’ve usually got your defences in such good order.’

  ’M-my defences?‘ she stammered, wondering if he’d seen through them at last.

  ‘Attack is the best means of defence,’ he reminded her. ‘You’ve been attacking me ever since I can remember.’ He bent over and kissed her, his tongue slipping inside her mouth as if he were swiftly possessing her again.

  She raised one hand to the back of his head, burying her fingers in his hair, then slid it down the back of his neck, over the powerful shoulders, down the muscular back to the narrow waist. His body was so beautiful, and just for a little while it was hers. Tomorrow he’d get dressed and be back in his suit and all the barriers would be back up; she knew she’d never have another chance to lie beside him like this so she should make the most of it. She hooked a leg over his, pulling him closer; she could feel him hardening against her again, and he laughed deep in his throat.

  He made love to her again, with the same mixture of raw passion and tenderness which had overwhelmed her the first time. What would it be like to go through a whole life remembering it? Well, better than going through a whole life with nothing to remember, but… She closed her eyes involuntarily, then opened them to find his eyes on hers. He was lying beside her again, propped again on his elbow; she’d always heard that men fell asleep afterwards, but Charles just kept watching her with that funny, lurking smile.

  ‘You can go to sleep if you want to,’ she said.

  ‘I can what?’ said Charles.

  ‘Go to sleep,’ said Barbara. ‘Isn’t that what men like to do?’

  Charles grinned. ‘Not on your life,’ he said. ‘I want to savour this moment. I’d like to fix it in my mind to remember the next time you tell me what a selfish, arrogant swine I am.’

  Barbara smiled at him. ‘If I’d realised it was making such an impression I’d have said it more often,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ he said.

  ‘Anyway, the only reason it made an impression in the first place is because all the other women you meet are so uncritical,’ she said.

  He gave her a lazy smile. ‘Just interested in different things. They’re looking for someone rich and successful to take them to the right restaurants and take them back to the right kind of place afterwards. If they find that they’re not going to dig much deeper.’

  Barbara tried to imagine what it would be like making love to someone you thought was only there because you were rich and successful. It sounded rather depressing but, of course, she’d seen the women Charles went out with—they were all spectacularly beautiful, and Charles was probably sparing her feelings by not pointing out how wonderful it was on a purely physical level to sleep with someone spectacularly beautiful.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. She regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Do you ever feel lonely?’ she asked impulsively.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said.

  Of course, she’d known really that all the barriers weren’t down, but it was chilling to be put in her place. Her eyes fell from his face, wandering along the long, lean body stretched out beside her.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Charles. He put a hand under her chin and tilted it up so that her eyes met his. His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I didn’t mean to—You’ve got to be pretty selfsufficient in my line of work—it becomes second nature to repel intruders. I don’t think I’m ever lonely in the sense of wanting to pour my heart out to someone, but that’s not to say—’

  He broke off, frowning slightly, then raised a self-mocking eyebrow. ‘I’ve been bored sometimes. That’s probably not quite what you had in mind.’

  ‘Bored?’ said Barbara.

  ‘Something tells me I’m about to hear how selfish and arrogant I am. I’ve always played with women who knew the rules. I’d say it’s worked pretty well in the sense that you can have good sex with someone you don’t know all that well, but when it’s over the last thing you want is a lot of small talk. I don’t think I’d realised how much time I’d spent lying beside someone and wishing one of us was somewhere else.’

  Barbara stared at him. He seemed to be saying this was different somehow, but how different was different? Did it mean he’d actually be speaking to her tomorrow? Did it mean he might sleep with her again? Well, whatever it meant, one thing it didn’t mean was that she could ask all the questions she wanted to ask.

  A smile tugged at his mouth. ‘What, no lecture on my selfishness and arrogance?’ he teased her.

  She smiled. ‘I don’t have the energy,’ she said.

  ‘Another first,’ he said. The lurking smile was back in his eyes. He said, ‘It’s funny, you’ve been getting under my skin for years, but I always liked you—even when y
ou were just a kid you could make me laugh. Then, after the big exam blow-up-I don’t know, you seemed so angry. Sometimes you seemed to hate me. I thought I really must have ruined your life. Maybe that’s why this feels so different—it’s as if we were always meant to be friends.’

  Barbara forced herself to smile. She knew she should be glad. After all, he’d as good as said this was better than his thousands of nights with supermodels. At least he wasn’t bored. But the word ‘friends’ was so cold and distant compared to what she felt. It just came down to the same old thing—she’d have to keep pretending. If she let him know what she felt he’d suddenly remember how nice and uncomplicated it had been with all the supermodels.

  ‘Well, I don’t hate you,’ she said.

  ‘And you’re too lazy to tell me how selfish I am,’ he said, grinning. ‘This really is my lucky day. Looks like I’d better make the most of it.’

  They made love again, and again, and again—it was as if he couldn’t get enough of her. At last, when the sky was starting to lighten to the colour of grainy charcoal, he fell asleep beside her. Barbara couldn’t sleep. She lay watching his face, trying to remember the smile he’d had in his eyes. Probably, when he woke up he’d wish she was somewhere else and she’d never see that look again.

  The sky grew lighter. She’d once thought, she remembered, that if she slept with him it might get him out of her system. He’d said that once he slept with a woman he lost interest; she’d thought she might lose interest too. Something told her this was never going to happen. Now she had a whole night with him to remember—if it had been hard to be attracted to other men before, what was it going to be like now when she had a whole night of fireworks to look back on?

  Now it was day. She’d once woken him with a kiss—now she didn’t dare. What if he opened his eyes and she saw boredom there? What if he opened his eyes and it was obvious he wished he’d woken alone?

  Even as she thought it he shifted slightly, his leg brushing against hers. His eyes opened, and as they saw her they widened and he gave her a sleepy grin.

  ‘My God, so I didn’t dream it,’ he said. ‘It really happened.’

  ‘Yes,’ Barbara said edgily.

  ‘Any regrets?’

  ‘No,’ she said, even more edgily.

  ‘You seem rather distant,’ said Charles. ‘Come here and kiss me.’

  He put an arm round her and pulled her up against him until she was stretched full length against the magnificent body, his mouth on hers in a warm, sleepy kiss. ‘God, you’re lovely,’ he murmured.

  Barbara melted against him. Why couldn’t it always be like this? She knew she shouldn’t think about the future. She should just enjoy the here and now…

  He drew out the kiss, his mind gradually surfacing to wakefulness. There was something strange about the situation, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something was missing. Well, he would think about it later; he should just enjoy this now—

  It struck him suddenly. He shouldn’t be enjoying this now. That was, if it had been like all the other times he wouldn’t have been enjoying it. He would have woken up and his mind would have sprung instantly into action, reviewing strategy, throwing up the insane early morning ideas which might not stand up to the light of day or might, on the other hand, be worth millions. With physical satisfaction would have come boredom and impatience, infallible signs that he’d got her out of his system and could get on with his life.

  Except that when he’d woken up and remembered and realised it wasn’t a dream he hadn’t felt bored or impatient—he‘ d felt… He didn’t know what he’d felt. It had felt good at the time but it sure as hell wasn’t the way you felt when you’d got someone out of your system.

  It made him vaguely uneasy. Still, he thought, maybe he was worrying unnecessarily. On a purely physical level last night had been pretty explosive; if you had that kind of experience you wouldn’t necessarily want to move on immediately to something less exciting just for the sake of a change.

  Besides, he’d always liked Barbara; it hadn’t been reasonable to expect he would wake up beside her and feel the way he did when he woke beside someone he didn’t know well and didn’t want to know better. He should just accept what came and be grateful. It had been a marvellous night; why complain if the morning was just as good?

  ‘What a way to wake up,’ he said, raising his head at last. ‘What time is it, anyway?’

  ‘It’s about seven,’ said Barbara. ‘I should really go home and change.’

  ‘I suppose you should,’ he said. He smiled at her. She really was lovely, he thought. He was a fool to question his luck.

  Barbara would have liked to make it last as long as possible, but then he would have been the one to bring it to an end and it would have hurt more to see him try to get rid of her.

  ‘I’d better go,’ she said, trying to pull herself away.

  His arms tightened around her; his mouth took possession of hers. Oh, it was lovely. Why did she always have to be on her guard? She relaxed against him, meeting his mouth as hungrily as if they had never kissed before.

  Much, much later he raised his head; the lurking smile was back in his eyes. ‘So it really wasn’t a dream,’ he said.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Barbara irritably. If she wasn’t careful she might say something. She’d been careful so long—what if she let something slip at the last moment?

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ said Charles. A rueful smile tugged at his mouth. ‘If this goes on much longer I may have another first to mark up against your big night. A lot of things that looked rather urgent on the plane back suddenly don’t look quite so urgent.’ He flicked up an eyebrow. ‘What do you say—shall we take the day off? I can tell my secretary I’m spending the day in bed.’

  Barbara stared at him. She’d never heard of Charles putting anything ahead of work; she’d never heard of Charles even turning up on time for a dinner date if the date had to compete with work.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Charles. ‘Something tells me silence does not imply consent. Maybe I’d better see if I can be a bit more persuasive.’

  He bent his head and kissed her breast, his tongue setting off explosions of pleasure; somehow her body seemed to respond to him even more now that she knew the heights to which he could take her.

  He raised his head, the green eyes saturated with desire. ‘Barbara,’ he said softly. ‘Barbara. Barbara.’

  She closed her eyes for a moment. In a way she couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than just staying here with him, especially when it was his idea—and even more especially when it was something he’d never done before. But she felt so tired. It tore her apart, being so close to him and having to pretend it was just a physical thing. On the other hand, if she went away now she might never have the chance again. On the other hand…

  ‘What is it?’ The deep voice was right next to her ear.

  She opened her eyes. ‘It’s just…’ Maybe she could risk saying something that was a little bit true. Her blue eyes met his. ‘It’s a little overwhelming,’ she said. ‘Couldn’t we?’ She broke off. ‘I don’t want to take anything for granted,’ she said, ‘but couldn’t we…?’

  ‘What?’ He was still smiling at her.

  ‘Could we come back again tonight?’ she said in a rush. There, she’d said it. Now she’d have to watch him find an excuse.

  ‘If that’s the way you want it, sure.’

  ‘Then let’s do that,’ said Barbara. ‘And now I’d better get dressed.’

  She slid away from him before he could pull her back, and jumped off the bed to the floor. ‘You don’t mind if I use the shower, do you?’

  ‘Go right ahead.’

  She scooped up her clothes and left the room. Charles lay back in bed, his hands under his head. A faint frown creased his brow. Overwhelming, she’d said. Well, obviously, any man liked to hear that a girl’s first time had been overwhelming if it had been with him. But was that really what she’
d had in mind? What was it she didn’t want to be taking for granted?

  He began to remember various things he’d said the night before. It wasn’t that he’d said anything he hadn’t meant, but what if Barbara took it for more than it was? Or what if she took what she was feeling for more than it was? If her first time was overwhelming and she didn’t realise, because of her inexperience, that it would have been as good with anyone if you assumed the same level of physical attraction and reasonable technical competence…

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ he groaned.

  Well, he could nip things in the bud by explaining that he’d changed his mind and he didn’t think they should sleep together again. Then she’d see things in perspective. The problem was, he wanted to sleep with her again; in fact, if he didn’t he suspected he’d be thinking about it even more obsessively than he had before he’d known what it was like. He just didn’t want Barbara to take it too seriously.

  Why did everything have to be so complicated? If she came back that night he’d have to say something to make sure she didn’t take it too seriously—it wouldn’t be fair to her otherwise. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and besides, what was he going to say when the fact was that he’d never met a girl he liked so well—in bed or out of it? It could be so fantastic if it didn’t have to get complicated. Why should he have to spoil it?

  He remembered suddenly, with relief, that there was a way out. If it was going to be complicated it didn’t have to be that night, because he’d agreed to have dinner with Julia.

  Barbara came back into the room, fully dressed, her hair still damp from the shower. She was so beautiful, he thought He’d have liked to tear her. clothes off again and pull her back into bed, but he could see that was a bad idea. No, better try for a cooling-off period.

  ‘I’ve just thought of something,’ he said casually.

  ‘What?’ said Barbara. Now she’d hear the excuse.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I rescheduled dinner with Julia for tonight. I know you have strong views on my treatment of women generally and Julia in particular. Even I, accustomed as I am to thinking of no one but myself, think it would be a bit much to stand her up at short notice twice in a row. On the other hand, maybe it’s a bit much to take her out to dinner when I want to be in bed with you. What do you think?’