The Secrets She Must Tell

by Lucy King

  And that was how, the following Friday evening, she and Finn played hosts to his friends, Theo and Kate Knox, and her friend Carla. Finn and Theo had known each other professionally for a couple of years, and socially for one of those, more so since Theo had met Kate and settled down. Kate, his wife of three months, was tall, statuesquely beautiful and heavily pregnant.

  Over drinks and nibbles, a starter of salmon and asparagus and a main course of slow-roasted lamb, Georgie listened to the conversation that flowed easily, picking up anything she could about Finn, however tiny, and filing it away for later consideration. She smiled and laughed and made contributions where necessary, but for the most part she found herself surreptitiously watching Kate and trying not to envy her.

  The other woman’s clear enjoyment of her pregnancy and the serenity and radiance that she emanated were things that had been denied to Georgie, and that filled her with regret and sadness. If only she’d known she was pregnant, things could have been so different. It was hard not to feel cheated.

  And then there was the immense love that Kate was lucky enough to bask in. In all honesty Georgie found Theo faintly aloof and more than a bit intimidating, but when he looked at his wife the hard lines of his face softened and the blazing emotion that warmed in his eyes stole her breath. What would it feel like to be on the receiving end of such love and such passion? Would she ever know? It didn’t seem likely, given the hand of cards she’d been dealt.

  ‘So how did you and Theo meet?’ Carla asked, and Georgie made herself shake off the gloom and focus.

  Kate put down her glass of elderflower pressé and gave her husband a look of wry amusement. ‘I made myself available on an escort agency website and Theo took against it.’

  Goodness, thought Georgie. That she hadn’t known.

  Theo arched an eyebrow, although a faint smile played at his mouth. ‘Indeed,’ he said, his dark gaze taking in Finn and Georgie. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Georgie picked Finn up in a bar,’ Carla said with a wide grin.

  ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ Georgie muttered, feeling herself blush.

  ‘Why not?’ said Finn, the glance he slid her holding a wicked glint. ‘You did.’

  ‘I don’t remember you putting up much of a protest.’

  ‘I put up no protest at all.’

  ‘The sparks flying off the two of them could have set fire to a forest,’ Carla said, taking a sip of champagne. ‘I went up to them to see if Georgie was OK and had to back off for fear of getting singed.’

  Oh? ‘I don’t remember you doing that.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. The fire alarm could have gone off with sprinklers and everything and you’d have been oblivious.’

  ‘And how do you two know each other?’ asked Kate, indicating her and Carla.

  ‘Our parents lived on the same commune for a while when we were teenagers,’ said Georgie, remembering how excited she’d been at hearing the news of the latest arrivals.

  ‘We clicked instantly,’ said Carla. ‘Took a few walks together on the wild side. Even after my family moved on we stayed in touch.’

  ‘She’s my best friend,’ said Georgie.

  ‘Back at you,’ said Carla.

  ‘Thank you,’ said a suddenly serious Finn to Carla, who, to Georgie’s astonishment, blushed.

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  ‘I’ll make coffee, shall I?’ said Georgie before either of the too-sharp-for-their-own-good Knoxs could voice the curiosity that was filling their expressions.

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Carla.

  Feeling oddly peculiar, Georgie practically ran into the kitchen, with Carla hot on her heels.

  ‘God, Finn really is divine,’ said her friend, faux fanning herself with a hand while Georgie turned on the boiling water tap and filled a cafétière. ‘All that intensity and focus on you. Blazing. The vibes are extraordinary. Watching you two together and Kate and Theo almost makes me want to give up singledom.’

  ‘Finn and I aren’t like that, as you know perfectly well,’ said Georgie, her chest nevertheless tightening.

  ‘Then what are you like?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure.’

  But she had the suspicion that she knew exactly what she might want it to be like, and she stuck a lid on it because there was absolutely no point chasing rainbows.

  And it was a good thing she did too, because it meant that at breakfast a couple of days after the dinner party when Finn made his unexpected announcement she was able to handle it. Josh was squashing a piece of banana between his fingers as he tried to cram it into his mouth. Finn was devouring a croissant and looking so dishevelled and sexy from her early-morning ministrations that Georgie, who was sipping coffee, felt her heart turn over, as it was increasingly wont to do whenever she looked at him.

  ‘I have to go to Paris next weekend,’ he said, jolting her out of her reverie and causing the mouthful of coffee she’d just taken to go down the wrong way. ‘The Bellevue is finally opening. There’s a launch party.’

  She coughed and spluttered and banged her chest.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked with a faint frown of concern.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, thumping her chest one last time. ‘Fine.’

  She was just surprised, that was all. The Bellevue was finished? Well, that was excellent news. She knew a bit from him about how long the works had been going on and how stressful they’d been. She had no reason to feel stung by the fact that Finn had never mentioned the imminent launch of the hotel or the party, a party that must have been planned for weeks, if not months. Or by the lack of an invitation. He owed her nothing. The debt went entirely the other way. She’d be of no benefit to him at such an event anyway.

  ‘When are you going?’

  ‘Saturday.’

  In six days. Gutting. Her period was due imminently, which would put a temporary halt to orgasms—for her at least—a halt that would now apparently last longer than she’d hoped. But she’d handle it. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t survive without the pleasure he evoked in her. In fact, the delay would make his return all the sweeter.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ she said, deciding to attribute the disappointment she nevertheless felt to PMT.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’ll miss...’

  You.

  Well. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. She’d sound pathetic. Besides, she was already too vulnerable when it came to him. He held all the cards. She held none. So she pulled herself together and lowered her voice, even though Josh was way too young to understand, and finished ‘...what we’ve been doing.’

  His blue eyes gleamed. ‘You don’t have to.’

  She looked at him quizzically. What did he have in mind? Phone sex? That was something they hadn’t tried yet. Could be fun. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come with me.’

  Her heart skipped a beat and then began to race. ‘Really?’

  ‘Why not? Think of it as a belated mini honeymoon.’

  Hmm. She’d be better off not thinking that actually, since, whatever they were doing, it wasn’t romance and she’d be wise not to forget it. ‘For how long?’

  ‘A couple of days, maybe three. The party’s on the Saturday night and I have some business on the Monday and Tuesday. We’d be back by Tuesday evening at the latest.’

  ‘What about Josh?’

  ‘He can stay here with Mrs Gardiner.’

  As usual Finn had all the answers and he made it sound not only easy but also unbelievably tempting. Three days on her own with him in Paris, strolling through the parks and sitting in divine restaurants that had white tablecloths, sparkling crystal and soft, flickering candles...

  Or perhaps not, since he’d probably be in meetings most of the time, but whatever. She could see it now—the party, the
luxury and the almost-sex that would have an added frisson, given that it was Paris—and to her shame she wanted it all quite desperately.

  But could she really do it? Wouldn’t it be the height of selfishness to leave behind her tiny son to go off gallivanting around one of the most romantic cities in the world in search of pleasure, oblivion and her old self?

  Well, maybe it would and maybe many would judge her for that, but maybe she ought to give herself a break. Didn’t she deserve some fun? And how badly would her absence actually affect Josh? She’d only be away for three days max. Would he even notice? And if he did, would it scar him for life? She didn’t think so. She had the utmost faith in Mrs Gardiner, which was ironic when she thought about how suspicious of the whole idea of having a nanny she’d been initially, and there was always the phone. It wasn’t exactly difficult to get back from Paris, should for some reason she need to.

  ‘Well?’ Finn queried with an arch of an eyebrow that sent thrills of excitement skidding along her veins and a lovely warmth spreading through her body.

  ‘Oui, d’accord,’ she said, feeling the beginnings of a wide, silly smile spread across her face despite her best efforts to contain it. ‘I’d love to.’

  * * *

  At ten o’clock on the following Saturday evening—French time—Georgie was floating on the most incredible high.

  She and Finn had arrived in Paris earlier, having caught the train in London and travelled first class. A car had picked them up at the station and had then smoothly whisked them to the latest addition to the Calvert Collection portfolio.

  When they’d pulled up outside the Hotel Bellevue on the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré she’d had trouble keeping her jaw from hitting the floor. The pale, sand-coloured stone of the six-storey building gleamed in the afternoon sun. Each room had a black wrought-iron balcony from which spilled rich red flowers. Some had their red and white striped blinds down, some had their doors open to let in the warm spring breeze. Above the revolving glass and gold front door was a fine black awning, and either side of it stood a tub containing a perfectly clipped ball of a laurel tree. The doorman who tipped his black top hat to them as they approached was wearing a dark coat decorated with gold braid and polished brass. Inside, everything was soft whites and elegant eau-de-nil, marble floors and sparkling crystal. Beyond the reception desk, through a pair of huge patio doors, Georgie had seen a terrace where tables with bright white parasols had been placed around an area of emerald-green grass bordered with low, neat hedging.

  ‘What do you think?’ Finn had asked as they’d gone up in the lift to their suite.

  ‘Breathtakingly stunning.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he’d replied, giving her a direct look that sent heat and desire stealing through her.

  The honeymoon suite, which had been put at their disposal, was equally as beautiful with its calming off-white and taupe décor and gorgeous antique furniture. Disappointingly, Finn had disappeared pretty much immediately to go off and do things that, as owner of the hotel, he had to do. But Georgie had managed to occupy herself by exploring the vast suite and terrace, before kicking off her shoes and flopping onto the enormous bed to call Mrs Gardiner for quite possibly the twentieth time.

  It hadn’t been easy leaving Josh. It had actually been rather more of a wrench than she’d expected. For one dithering moment, just before she’d walked out of the penthouse back in London, she’d genuinely considered going downstairs to where Finn was waiting and telling him to go ahead without her. But Mrs Gardiner had shooed her off, practically locking the door behind her, and so she’d slunk off, torn between wanting to go and guilt at leaving.

  That guilt, which had accompanied her throughout the journey to Paris, hadn’t fully gone away but she’d been assured during every call she’d subsequently made that her son seemed to be taking their absence in his stride, and finally she’d been able to relax and enjoy the party.

  And what a party it was. Five hundred guests, who’d earlier been divided into small groups and given an exclusive tour, now mingled in the ballroom. Members of the waiting staff wove through the journalists, upmarket travel company owners and anyone else lucky enough to have received a coveted invitation, offering up exquisite signature cocktails and the tiniest, most delicious canapés Georgie had ever tasted. She’d laughed and chatted all evening, remembering how much she’d once loved socialising and going giddy with the realisation that it was all coming back to her.

  Having Finn at her side helped. His proximity was as reassuring as it was intoxicating. He looked so incredibly handsome this evening in his impeccably tailored navy suit that matched his eyes and a pale blue shirt. His imposing height and the impressive breadth of his shoulders stood him apart from everyone else, and then there was the aura of confidence and power that surrounded him and sent shivers of anticipation rippling through her.

  Georgie had only really ever seen Finn the father or Finn the deliverer of outstanding orgasms. She’d never experienced this side of him, the utterly compelling, totally in command, billionaire tycoon. It was dazzling being with him, knowing he was hers, and she was no more immune to his effect than any of the other couple of hundred or so women present this evening.

  However, it wasn’t the luxury of her surroundings or the endless supply of champagne or even Finn’s presence beside her that was causing Georgie’s state of heightened excitement. Nor was it the memory of him raising the privacy partition in the car as they’d made their way from the station to the hotel, then sliding his hand up her skirt and making her come silently and hard within minutes, which kept slipping into her head and making her blush. It wasn’t even the euphoric relief at knowing she was truly better and could therefore stop taking her medication, a plan she’d implemented this morning.

  No.

  What was responsible for the dizzying delight whipping through her was the unexpected yet shattering conclusion she’d come to while having her hair and make-up done this afternoon in the hotel’s very exclusive salon.

  To get there she’d had to pass the hotel’s pharmacie, which was as elegantly designed as the rest of the building. As she’d settled back to have her hair washed, she’d found herself idly wondering what sort of pharmaceutical things a guest might need while staying in such a hotel but may not have. A forgotten toothbrush perhaps. A plaster or an aspirin. Or something they might possibly need unexpectedly, such as a tampon or, if they were very lucky, a condom. This naturally had got her to thinking about sex, with Finn, how much she longed to do it and what a crying shame it was that they couldn’t.

  And then it had struck her like a breath-stealing blow to the chest that maybe they could. Her period had finished yesterday—no unexpected need for a tampon—and her cycle was long. So the chances of getting pregnant at this stage of it were remote. Really remote. And therefore if she and Finn were extra-careful, she’d thought, her head spinning and her heart thumping while the stylist lathered her up, what was stopping them from having full-on sex tonight? What was stopping them from making up for lost time and having full-on sex the entire weekend?

  As far as she could tell, absolutely nothing. It would be virtually risk-free. Certainly risk-free enough for her to consider it an excellent idea. The only potential obstacle was Finn, but surely he wouldn’t object. While unravelling her in the car he’d murmured that he’d found the last week impossibly frustrating, despite her extreme and selfless generosity on that front, so presumably he’d be as thrilled with her proposal as she was.

  And so, once she was all styled and made up and fairly bubbling over with excitement and anticipation, Georgie had gone back to the pharmacy to acquire supplies for what she hoped would be at least forty-eight hours of mind-blowing sex, give or take a meeting or two, and returned to her room to get dressed as if floating on air.

  For the duration of the party she’d hugged her plan to herself, but it wasn’t for much l
onger. In an hour or so the party would surely begin to wind down and they’d be done, and then she and Finn would head upstairs and with any luck start burning up his one thousand thread-count sheets properly.

  And, quite frankly, she couldn’t wait.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THERE WAS SOMETHING different about Georgie tonight, Finn thought, watching through narrowed eyes as she chatted and laughed with a small group of guests. And it wasn’t just the way she looked, although that was pretty magnificent. The dress she had on was strapless and tight, knee-length and of a forest-green velvety sort of fabric, the kind of dress he wanted to peel off her with his teeth. Nor was it the relaxed ease with which she interacted with people, which reminded him of the vibrant, sexy woman he’d originally met.

  Over the last couple of weeks, that Georgie, the one he recognised, had showed increased signs of returning, and he was glad for her sake. And also his, if he was being honest. They might not be having full sex—slightly frustrating although completely understandable—but what they did get up to blew his mind every time. She was so responsive. So enthusiastic. A fascinating and inventive distraction, and just what he’d needed, in fact. Again. Because, what with work and Josh and her, he’d barely had time to think about the progress his investigation agency wasn’t making. Nor did he have the head space to continue to mentally rage at Jim and Alice.

  The tension that had been gripping him for what felt like decades had begun to lessen and life had become marginally easier in other respects too. While many of the circumstances surrounding his adoption remained painfully confusing, some of the chaos seemed to be settling. He was no longer short with his colleagues and subordinates. He scowled less and his behaviour had become less unpredictable. Only yesterday he’d made a snap decision without even having to think about it, and he was one hundred per cent certain that this was all down to the release he found with Georgie.