by F. C. Clark
‘Luke! Luke!’
As my foot reaches the last step, he appears from the office.
‘Kate!’
‘Thank God.’ I run to his arms. This is what I need: him, safe and alive. Within a couple of seconds my breathing is calming.
‘Shh, it’s OK.’ He pulls away and looks at my face. ‘Nightmare?’
‘Yeah… It took me by surprise.’
He lowers his lips and tenderly kisses me. ‘Yesterday probably triggered it. Being afraid can sometimes reignite old memories.’
‘Maybe. I don’t want to think about the Coopers or the explosion.’ I look at my watch – it’s four o’clock in the morning. ‘What time are we leaving?’
‘In half an hour. I was going to wake you.’
I yawn. I didn’t get to bed until one.
‘Did you actually sleep?’
Luke begins to return to his office. ‘A little.’
‘That means no. You worry me; you’ll burn yourself out.’ I walk towards his desk. ‘What are you working on?’
‘Contracts.’ A one-word response means he’s concealing information.
‘Contracts – what sort of contracts?’
He looks up to me. ‘Your contract with Bagrov and Cooper. I told you I don’t want you returning there. I need to research the clauses.’
‘Good. I never want to go back. I thought you said your lawyers are looking into it.’
‘They are, but I never go into a situation blind.’ He sits back in his chair, rubbing his jaw. ‘Before Max saved me from beating the crap out of Anderson, I had just sat my A levels, one of which was law. I was considering becoming a lawyer.’
‘Christ. Luke, is there anything you don’t bloody know?’
‘Many things – that’s why I need you.’ He catches my eyes.
I’ll never be able to compete with him. ‘Tea?’
‘Please.’
‘Would you like anything to eat?’
‘No, we can eat at Heathrow airport.’
‘Heathrow?’
‘Yes.’
‘No private jet?’
‘Virgin Airlines today.’
‘I bet it’s first class,’ I mutter under my breath as I walk away.
‘Yes, it is,’ Luke bellows.
Having slept for most of the flight to Dubai, I feel a little more awake when we land. The moment we step out of the airport the heat hits me. Wow – it’s intense. Luke guides us towards a waiting limousine, and our luggage follows. The minute I slide in the car I am grateful for the air con. All around us is a concrete landscape.
‘What do you think of Dubai?’ he asks.
‘Everywhere looks so new. Christ, Luke, did you just wake up one day and think, “Hey, I’m bored, I’ll build a hotel”?’
‘Why not? The world is too big to stick with one project.’
‘I know, but you were buying a shipping company yesterday and now we’re visiting your hotel.’
‘I still want a shipping company – just not them. Kate, how I look at business is simple. If I have a hotel, perhaps I will need to ship things here. I will also need the very best in advertising, security, etc.—’
‘SGI Security? You’re a shrewd operator, Mr Sutton.’
‘Essentially, they all belong to me, so one business can help sustain the others.’
‘I guess. So, the hotel we’re staying at belongs to who?’ Luke hasn’t mentioned any names, or perhaps I don’t remember.
‘A man called Tim Reynolds; he owns a chain of hotels around the world.’
‘So, is this Tim guy a friend of yours?’
‘Acquaintance.’ Luke looks ahead. ‘We’re here.’
The hotel, Aurora Sands, is stunning. To think that Luke is building a hotel not far from here… is madness. I have never given it much thought until now. My fiancé is building a bloody hotel!
Luke heads for reception, while I soak up the stunning entrance. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook beautiful botanical gardens and a tropical pool area, which has a waterfall. I am acclimatising to the heat, which feels wonderful: what a way to beat a cold dreary day in London!
I feel him behind me. ‘They’ve done a good job here.’
‘It looks amazing.’ I turn to face him. ‘But I think yours will impress me more. Come to think of it, what are you going to call it?’
‘What do you think we should call it?’
‘Hmm… Sutton Global or SGI.’
‘Maybe. Let’s go, the car is waiting to take us to our hotel.’
‘Our hotel? Your hotel.’
‘Ours very soon – which reminds me: I want to discuss our wedding.’
‘OK. Are we really going to book it?’
He takes my hand as we begin to walk towards the car.
‘You said Venice, I assume that’s what you want?’
‘As long as it’s doable. I want everyone there – family, friends, Stella, Jerry, even Fiona and Pete.’
‘Hotel Cipriani should be doable,’ he smiles. ‘Where it started.’
We arrive at the new Sutton venture, which is currently an expanse of waste ground surrounded by wire fencing. Two large gates open as we enter the site, and I can see that the main building is complete, and various large stone buildings on either side are half-built. It looks as though it will be huge.
I turn to watch Luke’s face as we drive towards one of his dreams. God, he just looks alive, I can almost hear his brain whirring, making notes and planning.
The car stops outside the largest building. Presumably it will be the entrance: it has huge stone pillars linked by intricate stonework. It looks like a Roman atrium, smart and simple.
Luke steps out of the car, holding out his hand for me. I join him.
‘What do you think?’ He turns to look at me.
‘I don’t know what to say. It’s going to be amazing. I’m lost for words.’
Then my thoughts freeze as I spot Bradley Taylor moving towards us carrying two yellow hard hats.
‘Welcome to Sutton Global Palace.’
I gaze at Luke. ‘Palace!’ I laugh.
‘I stole your word, baby.’
‘Kate, how are you?’ Bradley places a kiss on my cheek.
I look across to Luke; he seems unruffled. I guess it was a friendly ‘hello’, not ‘hello, here is the key to my room’.
‘I’m good, thanks. Are you settling in?’
‘It’s been a busy first week.’
‘I can imagine. It looks amazing – honestly, I’m so impressed.’
‘The stonework fits well, better than we thought.’ Luke examines the entrance more closely.
‘I won’t lie, it was a hell of a day…’ Bradley moves towards Luke, concentrating on talking business. ‘The extra steel has made a huge difference: now we’ve decided to go up, we had no choice.’
‘Good. I researched what we spoke about; you were right to act now.’
‘It’ll cost more, but the extra space you gain will be worth it. OK – you’ll both need one of these.’ He passes us hard hats. ‘Shall we get a cold drink before we start the tour? It’s definitely hotter than yesterday – at least forty degrees.’ Bradley removes his hat, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
We move from the intense heat and enter the building. My eyes soak up every detail; although no interior work has been carried out yet, I can picture what the end result may look like. Staircases and ceiling structures are in place, with numerous glaziers working on fixing huge glass panels. We stand in what will be the reception area, which is already taking shape. Scaffolding surrounds the domed roof, and men are working on a mosaic ceiling. The backdrop is purely glass, with what looks like platforms leading to other areas. I assume a garden and swimming area will be designed later. It’s my first view of
Sutton Global Palace and, from what I can see, the hotel will be worth the wait.
After two hours of touring the site, the heat is almost unbearable. I have blisters on my feet thanks to my bad choice of footwear. I’m rapidly wilting. Bradley leaves us alone.
‘I wanted to show you this area myself.’
‘OK.’ We stand at another entrance. Beyond this point is wasteland.
Luke points to a diagram stuck to the wall. ‘This is ours.’
‘What do you mean?’
He guides me closer to the drawing. ‘This will be our apartment.’
‘What?’
‘Look closely.’ He points to the blueprint. ‘Four bedrooms, a couple of living areas and a kitchen.’ Luke gives his captivating Sutton smile. ‘We can come and go as we please. It will be attached to the hotel, so we can use the facilities, but sealed off from the hotel guests.’
‘It looks incredible.’ I scan the drawing. ‘You’ve given this some serious thought.’ He looks at me. ‘As you do everything.’
He plants a kiss on my lips. ‘Bet your arse I do.’ He looks at his watch. ‘We need to leave.’
I lock my arms around his neck. ‘Luke Sutton, you bowl me over.’ I kiss the man of my dreams – who is standing inside his dream.
Out on the terrace I lie on a sunbed, a slice of pizza in one hand, a glass of bubbly in the other, looking at the best view in the world – my sex god. I close my eyes. Does life get much better than this?
‘What are you working on?’ I look across to Luke, seated at the table under a parasol.
‘Steel work for Bradley.’
‘Are you going back there?’
‘Tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh.’ I lick my fingers clean of tomato sauce. ‘What time do we need to head downstairs?’
‘Eight o’clock.’ Luke’s eyes remain on the drawings scattered across the table.
I gaze at my watch. Five o’clock – hmm, I need to be ready for eight. This gives me enough time to entertain myself – and Luke is my chosen toy.
I stand up from the sunbed, placing my empty plate and glass on the tray.
‘I think you’ve worked long enough.’
No response.
‘Luke!’
Blankly, he glances at me.
‘I think you’ve worked long enough.’
He tilts his head. ‘Is that right?’
‘Yes.’ Triangle bikini tops and tied bottoms are great for taking off quickly, and also a clear winner for attracting my sex god. As both items meet the ground, I move slowly towards him.
‘Are you bored?’ He smiles provocatively.
‘Have you finished working yet?’ I kiss him fiercely, allowing my tongue to invite him to join me in playtime.
He pulls away. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘What do you want? Of course, if you’re busy I can please myself.’
How to evoke the best Sutton smile in the world – just a few words, and he delivers.
‘You now have my undivided attention, baby.’
***
‘What?’ I ask, leaning against the wall of the lift.
Luke’s eyes continue to drink in my new Harper Jones dress.
‘You look beautiful. Jesus, Kate!’ He takes my hand to press against the bulge pushing against his zip. ‘This is what your dress has done to me.’
Thank God the lift is empty.
My hands slide down the lapels of his black jacket. ‘Good. I love that you want me.’ I move towards him and kiss his lips erotically slowly.
The lift doors open to a room that is filled to capacity. Luke takes my hand and begins to weave us through the crowds.
We make our way to the ballroom. After several glasses of champagne, I need to find the bathroom. I leave Luke chatting.
Drying my hands, I move towards the full-length mirror to check my dress is holding up to this prestigious occasion: it’s our first invite to a hotel opening, and I assume it will be the first of many. Originally I designed the dress in black, but changed my mind and went for white. It’s a stunning white silk full-length gown with a floor-to-thigh split at each leg. The dress rests straight across the tops of my breasts and is held up with spaghetti straps that cross over and sit neatly at the base of my spine.
I return to the ballroom, which is full of businesspeople. I scan around for Luke. He’s nowhere to be seen. Oh well, the bar looks lonely! I lean against the counter and sip champagne.
‘I was hoping to find you here.’ I hear a familiar voice and turn around. ‘And you’re alone – that’s a bonus.’
‘How are you, Charles?’
‘Bearing up under the strain; I had to cut short my trip to St Bart’s. But I guess it’s warm here too.’ He catches the barman’s eye.
‘My heart bleeds for you.’ I chuckle. ‘I didn’t know you were into this line of work.’
He laughs. ‘Kate, as you know I’m not into any line of work.’
‘Oh yes, lazy bastard syndrome. You might want to take something for that – it’s called a job.’
He takes my hand and squeezes it. ‘How bizarre, I do believe I have missed you.’
‘Bloody bizarre!’ For some reason, I like him.
‘I heard you were attending, so where is Luke?’
My eyes move around the room. ‘I have no idea. He’s here somewhere. I’m sure he’ll find me – he usually does.’
‘He seems to be in control of you – or he thinks he is.’ He taps his temple. ‘You are quite cunning. Luke thinks he controls you.’ He shakes his head and laughs. ‘It’s you with your finger on the pulse – his pulse.’
‘You think?’
‘The woman on a man’s arm speaks volumes about his choices in life, in business and otherwise.’
‘You think I make Luke look good? Come on, you’ve seen him. I know you swing both ways – you must fancy the pants off him.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say no. Although I like them younger! As I was saying, he should count his lucky stars.’
I can’t help but laugh. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
‘Not nearly enough to deal with this room.’ He looks at the bartender. ‘Scotch, neat, with some ice.’
‘Manners, Charles, they’re free.’
‘You and I would never work. But we could have fun together.’
‘Dream on.’
‘Always, Kate.’ He reaches into his jacket pocket. ‘This is for you.’ He slides a folded piece of paper towards me.
‘What is it?’
‘Read it and you’ll find out.’
I look at him and then at the paper, lying flat on the bar. I scan the document but my mind feels hazy.
He takes his drink and downs it, placing the empty glass on the countertop. ‘Another, please!’ he requests the bartender. ‘As promised, I searched my father’s not-so-secret safe. As you can see, it’s a post-mortem report for a woman. Cause of death – suicide.’
I read it. ‘I don’t understand. It doesn’t say Katenka’s name. OK, the date looks the same, but it could be about anyone.’
‘Do you really believe that two women of the same age and in the same city took their lives on the same day?’
‘Perhaps. I mean, it’s possible. A bit odd – but possible.’
‘Odd! Yes, I agree. Nearly as odd as this half-written report. Look at the bottom, Kate.’ He points.
‘Chief coroner?’ I say.
‘The name – read the name.’
‘George Williams.’ I look at Charles, totally clueless.
‘Williams.’ Charles raises his brows. ‘My dear Kate, if we do a quiz, you are most definitely not on my team. Williams as in Matthew Williams – George is his father.’
‘Oh! Why would I have known that?’
‘Anyway, this leads you to one or two avenues. First, my father has only half the report: where is the rest? You must understand: my father is a cantankerous old fool, but a methodical old fool who has always run a tight ship. But I smell a rat. Second, George deals with criminal cases, or second opinions. There was no inquest on this suicide, so why has my father kept a copy of his report?’
‘Maybe it was… I don’t know! Because he likes to keep copies?’ I don’t have a bloody clue. ‘That’s if it is her; you can’t tell from this alone. Besides, why would their names be associated with Katenka? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Exactly – why would two high-profile men at the peak of their careers be involved, if only on paper, with the suicide of a supposedly Russian nobody? No offence to Katenka.’
‘None taken. It can’t have been coincidental.’
‘No, I don’t believe in coincidence.’
‘Shit… Do you think I’ve uncovered something?’
‘It would be safe to say that if you dig deep enough you may ruffle a few feathers. This information leaves us – well, nowhere. Except…’ He smiles.
‘Except what? Spill.’
‘Perhaps George Williams has secret information which Matthew may be able to help you find.’
‘That sounds possible. Can you ask him?’ I say.
‘No!’
‘What do you mean, no? I thought you Chelsea people lived in each other’s pockets.’
‘Us Chelsea people do fall out, frequently. Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye. You’ll have to ask him yourself.’ He drinks the remainder of his second whisky.
‘Is that all? I thought you were going to ask me to run around this ballroom stark bloody naked.’
Charles tries desperately to not choke on his drink.
‘As you know, he’s Luke’s arch-rival – plus, my fist had a run in with his face last week. Also, I’m quite keen on breathing… talking to him may have an impact on my ability to do that.’
Charles can’t hide his amusement. ‘Well, then, Kate Harper, we seem to be in a quandary. But there was something else; I found an address attached to the paperwork. In Wales.’
‘Wales.’ I shake my head. ‘Doesn’t ring any bells.’