Obsession (The Talisman series)

by Sofia Grey

  We were on the final set, Suki hanging decorations on the tree while I passed them to her from suitably antique looking chest. As I held out a glittering angel, I caught Suki’s fingers in my own, pressing my lips to the back of her hand and smiling as she rolled her eyes.

  “What’s this mark on your hand? It looks like a burn.” I kept my voice low. Maxim would no doubt think I was whispering sweet nothings.

  “Oh, that. I’ve no idea.” Her eyes slid away to the tree, before flicking back to me. “Where should I hang this one?” We’d been married for ten years; I knew by now when she was lying to me.

  “How about a nice kiss under the mistletoe to finish for today?” Pamela, the stylist, smiled encouragingly as she held out a sprig towards me.

  “Sure.” We obliged with a lengthy clinch. Suki’s breath smelled fresh and minty—had she just brushed her teeth? That was odd. Not enough time to find something decent to wear, but long enough to freshen her breath? Or to hide something.

  I pressed the pink mark on her hand and saw her flinch slightly. “Oops, sorry. Where did you say you got this?”

  “I didn’t. Is it important?”

  I smiled at my wife. “I don’t know, darling. You tell me.” Her anxious flush spoke volumes. I knew she was hiding something. It was just a matter of time until I found out what.

  “Lovely, love-ely,” cooed Maxim as he pranced around our lounge. “Suki, sweetie, do you think you could look just a tad more enthusiastic?”

  I held back a snort. That would be a first.

  1.5 Josh

  I spent the afternoon gathering information on two more potential clients, eventually drifting back to my London apartment at 8:00 p.m. I was tired from dealing with traffic, hungry, and in need of company. Undemanding female company.

  Danielle seemed like my best bet. She lived in the apartment directly beneath me, and if I used the stairs, I had to walk past her door. We’d been fuck buddies for the better part of a year, popping in and out of each other’s beds every month or so. Maybe it was time to move it to the next level? I paused as the thought popped in. Where had that come from? I needed a relationship like I needed a hole in the head. I hadn’t been laid for a few weeks; I just needed a no-strings shag. All the same, I flicked her a quick text as I parked in the basement.

  Hey there. U busy? Not eaten yet if u fancy a takeout? I can be there in 5 mins.

  She replied almost instantly.

  Hey you. I’ll ring out for pizza. C u soon.

  Danielle worked for some fancy advertising agency in the city and her hours tended to be as erratic as mine, but she rarely refused my company. Petite and dark-haired, she looked like the stereotypical Parisian that she was, right down to her exotic Lejaby lingerie. My smile broadened a fraction as I contemplated whether she might be wearing the ultra sexy red lace set tonight. Hopefully I’d find out soon enough.

  She opened the door as soon as I knocked, hugging me and kissing both cheeks. “Mon chéri. I’m glad you called tonight, there’s something I want to tell you.” I knew right away it was something big. No, something huge.

  “Did you win that big contract at work?” I racked my brains trying to think of what it was she actually did, covering up pretty well. Or so I thought. Danielle handed me a glass of red wine and rolled her eyes, doing one of her very Gallic shrugs. I sat down, amused. “Not that then…”

  “No.” Danielle sat carefully in the armchair opposite. Normally we’d cuddle together on the sofa. I felt a flicker of alarm. Surely not pregnant…

  No. We always used condoms.

  Sipping the wine—resisting the urge to slug it back in one go—I gave her an encouraging smile. “Go on then. You’ve won the lottery?”

  “No.” Damn, this was awkward. I hated playing guessing games and found Danielle particularly hard to read unless I was actually touching her.

  I patted the sofa beside me. “C’mon over here. I’ve missed you Dani, not seen you for ages.”

  Uh oh. Danielle coloured, her cheeks blooming in a very pretty fashion as she shook her head. “I’m getting married, Josh.” She pronounced it the French way, Zh-osh.

  I immediately made a joke. “Wow, when did I propose? How long have we been engaged?”

  Her teasing little smile appeared, accompanied by a wagging finger. “Naughty. It’s Dev.” I must have looked blank, for she elaborated. “Devereaux. My ex from Paris.”

  “Oh, that Dev.” Who the hell was Dev? Had she mentioned him before?

  “Yes chéri, that Dev. I’ve known him since I was a child. I think he always knew I’d go back to him.”

  I leaned forward, curious. “So why are you?” Dani passed me the wine bottle. Absently, I topped up my glass.

  “Josh, I’m thirty-two years old. I want to have the chance for a family… and Dev proposed to me again.” Her voice was gentle. I sensed no rebuke, but it felt as though I’d been slapped in the face. I thought Danielle was like me, a loner, a confirmed singleton, someone else with a pathological fear of relationships.

  Obviously not.

  I hastened to cover my awkwardness. I placed my glass on the side table and crossed the room to pull her to her feet. Smiling, I pulled her into my arms for a hug.

  I can’t wait for you. Her voice rang inside my head.

  It shocked me. I hadn’t realised Dani wanted more than this. Everything I’d read from her up to now… Had I been so wrong? I scrambled to recover. “Congratulations, Dani. I’m very happy for you. I guess you’re moving back home?”

  When she didn’t release me straight away, I threw caution to the wind and whispered in her ear. “One last night together?”

  In reply, Dani disentangled herself and stepped back, creating a physical space between us. I could see she was already establishing an emotional space, too, and I gave up. “I was joking. Really. Now, come on, tell me all about your plans.”

  Her dark eyes gazed up at me. “You don’t mind?”

  I shrugged. “I just want you to be happy. Come on, spill the beans.”

  “Such an English expression,” she murmured, but relaxed. Over pizza and a second bottle of wine, Dani dismantled all my previous ideas of her, piece by piece. It left me wondering if I could be so wrong about her, had I been wrong about all the others, as well?

  1.6 Suki

  Gabe spent much of the evening in his office, occasionally coming downstairs to bug me. I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to prepare lunch for eighteen people. We held regular dinner parties, but never for more than eight at a time. This was just crazy. Gabe had been adamant we wouldn’t use caterers, as he wanted the magazine people to be impressed with my home cooking. I’d made a compromise to prepare the starter and dessert courses, but the turkey dinner would be catered.

  The groceries had been delivered and mostly put away, apart from a swathe of small items strewn across the kitchen table. Before I attended to those, I needed to chop a mountain of fruit for tomorrow’s dessert course. As I tackled a bowlful of apples, Gabe came to get a drink, poking through the random groceries as he did so.

  “Do we really need all this stuff?”

  I glared at him over my shoulder. “Dinner. Tomorrow. Your idea. You know, you could give me a hand if you’re not busy?”

  “Not finished yet.” He stared into the fridge. “Where’s my beer?”

  “There wasn’t space. Go look in your den.” Gabe had converted the basement to his man cave. Apart from his cars and motorbikes in the garage, that was his pride and joy.

  “Uh-huh. Do we have any wine?”

  Sighing, I pushed back a stray lock of hair from my forehead, instantly regretting it as I realised how sticky my fingers were. “Red or white?”

  “Either.” He was bored, I could tell by the tone of his voice. Next thing, he’d moved up behind me, fondling my bottom. “We should try some more baby-making tonight, Suzu.” I froze. This was one subject we really needed to talk about, but I could never find the right words. “This must be t
he right time of the month.” His voice no more than a sensuous whisper, he nuzzled the back of my neck, already pushing up my blouse and unfastening my bra.

  “Gabe!” I wriggled, annoyed. “I’m busy right now.” I gestured towards the bowl of apples, the bag of peelings, and the other fruits awaiting my attention. “If I’m lucky, I might be finished in here by midnight at this rate.”

  “Whatever.” With one final twist of his deft fingers, my bra fell open. He dropped my blouse back into place and wandered off, gazing into the fridge again. He was being a pain in the arse tonight, probably in retaliation for my lateness earlier.

  Gritting my teeth, I dropped the paring knife into the bowl before I was tempted to stab him with it. I wiped my hands and refastened the bra, watching as he poured a glass of red wine, and waited for him to look at me.

  “Thanks, I’d love one.” My sarcasm was acknowledged with a raised eyebrow. The trouble with Gabe was he’s so damned cool, he almost never rose to the bait.

  “You were too busy a minute ago.”

  I watched, helpless, as he sauntered out of the kitchen, humming a little tune under his breath. Turning back to the fruit mountain, I flinched when I knocked my burned hand against the tap. I examined the red mark under the bright kitchen spotlights. I should be able to hide it with concealer. It looked as though I’d been branded.

  Oh, sod the fruit. It wouldn’t hurt to take a break for five minutes. I poured myself a drink from the bottle Gabe had opened, and sat down at the table to flick through the newspaper abandoned at breakfast. My eyes may have been focused on the pages in front of me, but in my head I was remembering the guy in the café. I should have taken the ice after all; I didn’t realise I’d been scalded at the time. I was too embarrassed about throwing my drink all over him, too shocked at how I’d felt when he took my hand, and too scared that I’d spoken without realising it. I’d swear I hadn’t said anything, yet he’d answered me.

  I’d been stressed about the photo shoot. That was all. It wasn’t significant.

  I took a swig of wine and replayed the moment in my head.

  He looked as though he’d tumbled straight out of bed, his hair over-long and messy, flopping onto a strong forehead above the most arresting dark blue eyes I’d ever seen. I noticed eyes. I spent so many hours interviewing people, I’d become an expert on eyes. His weren’t just dark, I’d seen tiny flecks of amber when he smiled at me, the tiniest little laughter lines around his mouth.

  He looked like a man who smiled frequently, unlike Gabe, who only used his smile when he wanted something.

  CHAPTER 2

  2.1 Suki

  I smiled when Elaine, one of the people Gabe had invited, told me how much she admired our devotion to each other. How affectionate we were—what a lovely husband I had.

  In front of everyone, Gabe was adorable. Especially in front of Jon Craigowan and his wife, Anita. I never could decide if I should feel shocked at Gabe’s blatant two-facedness, or admiring of his political guile.

  Jon Craigowan was the hot new face of Formula 1 racing. He’d only joined the team a year ago, but he had a string of wins to his name already and had been tipped as a future championship winner. This was Gabe’s fifth season. He had yet to clinch the title and every time Jon finished ahead of him, he seemed to get a little harder, colder and more remote.

  Dinner was finally over. The presents had been distributed and opened, we’d been photographed in every room, with every group, enjoying our so-called Christmas festivities. As everyone relaxed over drinks, Gabe rattled a knife against his glass and called for attention. He beckoned me to his side, to stand next to the giant tree.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming here today.” He smiled around the room, the image of a relaxed man. “I know it seems rather summery to have Christmas,”—he paused while a ripple of laughter moved through the room— “but I’m sure you don’t mind taking part and helping us to celebrate just a little early.”

  Nodding to the hired help, he held up his glass. “We’ve got some champagne coming round, and I’d like to propose a couple of toasts.” The two waitresses stepped forward, pouring and topping up, then standing back with the remains of the bottles.

  Gabe slipped one arm around my shoulders, gazing down at me lovingly. “First, I’d like to thank Suki for pulling this off. She’s done an enormous amount of work today, as usual.” A brief pause. “To Suki.”

  “To Suki.”

  When everyone had murmured and sipped, he bestowed his lazy grin on the room. “And I want to let you in on a secret. It seems like the right time when all our nearest and dearest are here.”

  I stiffened. His fingers pressed into my upper arm, easing me closer. Obediently, I leaned against him.

  “I’m hoping that pretty soon I’ll be able to follow my good friend Jon in another area of life. Suki and I have decided to try for a baby.” The smile froze on my lips. I couldn’t believe he was telling everybody. “It’s early days,” he continued, his loving smile aimed at me, “but I’m hoping to give you some good news very soon.” He pressed a brief kiss against my temple. “So watch this space.”

  Craig, his father, stepped forward. “I’ll claim this toast, Gabe. To Gabe and Suki—and hopefully the patter of tiny feet very soon.”

  I sipped my champagne and fought to stay calm. I think there was another toast; I missed the details, I was too busy fuming. Before I could say anything to him, he’d slipped away to talk to his PR agent and I was left fielding the excited buzz from his family.

  My parents were more reserved, Mum giving me a brief, awkward hug while Dad managed a stiff smile. I escaped into the kitchen, only to be followed by Anita.

  “It was a lovely dinner, Suki. Thanks for inviting us.” She hoisted baby Mindy a little higher in her arms. “We’re going in a minute, before Mindy starts making a fuss.”

  Anita had a genuine innocence about her. I always found her refreshing to spend time with. I was determined to be friends with her, even though I knew it annoyed Gabe. “Thanks for coming. Mindy looks so pretty, I can’t imagine her being any trouble.”

  Anita laughed, and pressed a noisy kiss against her daughter’s cheek, making the baby giggle. “I’ll just go and change her before we leave. If Jon looks for me, tell him I’ll be five minutes.”

  Jon stuck his head round the door moments later, while I measured ground coffee into pots. “Hey, Suki. Have you seen Anita anywhere?”

  “Yes, she’s gone to change Mindy. She asked me to tell you she’d just be a few minutes.”

  “Oh, okay.” His gaze flicked across the work surface. “Can I give you a hand with anything?”

  The waitresses were clearing away the debris from the dining room and Gabe was talking to a group of people. “If you don’t mind, would you grab the milk from the fridge, please, and pour some into those jugs?”

  “Sure.” He flashed me a quick, easy smile, suddenly looking familiar. For a moment, he looked like the guy from the café; he had that same sexy smile. Jon was a serious piece of eye candy and Gabe battled with him in that arena, too. They were both popular faces in the press and the media, and vied for lucrative sponsorship deals as fiercely as they fought for supremacy on the track.

  “Congratulations on Montreal, by the way.” His most recent win had left Gabe smarting with a reluctant third place.

  “Thanks. It was a tough scrap. Gabe was unlucky, it should have been his.” He poured milk as he spoke, turning back to me when it was done. “Do you want me to put sugar out as well?”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Gabe’s cool voice washed over us. I jumped. This was ridiculous; he made me feel guilty even when I hadn’t been doing anything.

  “Of course not, darling. Jon was just helping me with the coffee.”

  “No need, I can do that.” He moved forward to take the pots I’d prepared, giving Jon a patently false smile. “Hey Jon, I just heard about the Zircon campaign. I believe you were in the running. B
ad luck.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jon shrugged, looking totally unworried. “Did you get it?”

  “Yeah.” Gabe sounded nonchalant. I glared at him.

  “Well done, mate. I’m not bothered about Zircon.” Jon flashed him a beaming grin. “Pulsata asked me to front their next campaign, so I thought that was a better bet. I pulled out from Zircon. It was good you could cover it instead.”

  I blinked, busying myself with the teaspoons. Oh Christ. Gabe had been talking about the Zircon advertising for months, convinced he was their first choice. I risked a quick look at him. His cool expression stayed in place, with a hint of a friendly smile as he lifted the pots of coffee. I doubt if Jon saw the way his fingers clenched around the handles, the knuckles showing white against his skin.

  2.2 Gabe

  As I leaned forward in my chair, unleashing the full force of my super-blast-cannon on the massed aliens on the screen, I let my mind wander. Instead of seeing green-faced aliens, in my head I superimposed Craigowan’s cheesy grin in my sights. Mentally blasting him off the face of the earth gave me some small satisfaction.

  It gnawed at me that he’d risen so effortlessly to Formula 1, and now swept through the rankings as easily. His pathetic wife irritated me, too. The only reason he’d married her was because he’d knocked her up, but, as usual, he’d managed to turn it into another round of good publicity. Bastard.

  For once, just once in my life, I’d love the opportunity to wipe that smirk from his face. Maybe I could dig up some dirt on him? He’d been famous for his skirt chasing activities at one time—what were the chances of me turning up a love child somewhere? See how the Pulsata people liked him then.

  The game finished, I leaned back and took a swig of my beer. Suki was in bed, no doubt dreaming of Craigowan. I wasn’t happy about their little whispering session in the kitchen. Did she already know he’d pulled out of the Zircon campaign? Surely not.