Flame

by Toya Richardson

  The air was heavy with tension. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe. When she turned to face him, she felt unable to meet his penetrating stare. He was far too enticing, so she looked down at the floor.

  ‘Sure you can, I have another one.’

  He was filled with the urge to kiss her again and so he changed the subject. His body would betray just how turned on she made him feel if he didn’t!

  ‘Did you ever get the bolts for your doors?’

  ‘As a matter of fact I did. I’m going to fix them tomorrow, why?’ she replied.

  ‘I want to ask your advice about my business. I could fit your bolts as a thank you for any help you can give me.’

  ‘What do you need from me?’ She was intrigued and eager to help if it meant she’d get to spend more time with him.

  ‘The whole place needs an advertising strategy. I thought you could give me some pointers. I know you’re supposed to be resting…’

  Amberley looked at him grinning. ‘I’m a workaholic, Greg, even though I’m supposed to be resting I’m still working and I’d love to help you too. When did you want to go?’

  ‘I’m going to be busy the rest of today and tomorrow so how about nine o’clock the day after?’

  ‘Good for me.’

  ‘Cool, I’ll pick you up then.’

  ***

  Amberley was pacing up and down in the living room, discussing a client’s requirements with one of her staff in London. There was a knock at the door, it was Greg, she smiled and ushered him in, still deep in conversation. She realised she was only wearing her short nightdress and felt his eyes take in the sight of her, his expression one of appreciation.

  ‘I like the sound of that, Clive, you’ve come through for us again. Email me when you have the final designs.’

  She noticed Greg’s eyes still fixed on her body.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Greg,’ she said, switching off her mobile. ‘I had a difficult client to help sort out. I couldn’t let Clive struggle on his own.’ She explained.

  He had wondered if she was ruthless in business but after her phone call, he realised how much she cared about her staff. Caring and compassion were two traits he loved in a woman. He let his gaze slip over her body, enjoying the way the silk material caressed her curves. He could see her nipples protruding through the slinky material. Oh God, how he’d loved to nuzzle the tight buds with his lips until she moaned with pleasure at his touch. He shook his head mentally; these dangerous thoughts had to stop.

  ‘No problem,’ he replied, an appreciative smile on his face.

  ‘I won’t take long to get ready,’ she said, aware of how he looked at her.

  He sat in her living room trying to calm his body down, his erection twitching in the confines of his jeans. It didn’t help matters that he could hear the shower running. He imagined her body covered in soapy bubbles and was sorely tempted to offer to give her a hand. He went out into the back garden to take deep breaths of air, hoping that the temptation to join her would go away.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, she was ready to go. It was a beautiful sunny day and Greg had the top down on his old MG sports car. They talked and laughed all the way to the Craft Centre; Amberley had not felt this carefree in years. The Craft Centre was located down a long, winding track. The old stable block’s restoration was almost complete. Even though the six units were still only empty shells, she could see the potential of the place.

  ‘Do you think the owners would allow me to see the overall plans for the development?’

  ‘I could ask, why?’

  ‘I can visualise just how successful this place could be. With the right advertising strategy, it could really help them reach a larger market. What do you think, Greg?’

  ‘Hmm, I can see what you’re getting at, I’ll speak to them.’

  Greg strode over to the largest of the units.

  ‘Hopefully this one will be mine. This part,’ he said indicating to the rear of the property, ‘could be used for the gallery and look at this,’ he said, practically dragging her to the back of the unit, ‘is where I want to have my studio. There’s room enough for me to give private tuitions to one or two people at a time. What do you think?’

  ‘Your ideas are great, Greg. You are well organised and you know your target markets, I’m impressed. There’s so much scope here.’

  ‘Yes, I know. The possibilities are endless,’ he replied eagerly. ‘I had toyed with the idea of summer schools. I guess I could even have parties of school kids here, and employ art students to help me. But that’s all off in the future.’

  ‘How’s your business plan shaping up?’

  He stood still for a moment, thinking.

  ‘Well, you remember my mate, Keith?’

  ‘Oh indeed I do, how could I ever forget his subtle comments.’ She rolled her eyes and laughed.

  ‘His background is financial, so he’s been a big help.’

  They were quiet for long moments as they both reflected on the possibilities.

  ‘Actually,’ he said, studying her expression. ‘If you two got together this could be a great opportunity to make the plan watertight.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, Greg. What do you intend to do with the plan?’

  ‘Take it to the bank. I do have some money my dad left for me, but I would need a loan to cover the rest.’

  ‘Of course, if I can do anything to help, Greg, just ask me.’

  She turned to look up the path they had just come down. The sound of a car engine was getting closer. Shielding her eyes with her hands, she watched as the car came into view, still far away from them. The car slowed then stopped, a man got out of the car. Her skin went cold. The car was black, sporty. She was positive it was Steve.

  ‘Hey, Amberley, are you listening to me?’

  Abruptly she turned to face him, he was surprised to her face was drained of colour and she was visibly shaking. He walked towards her and held her lightly by the shoulders.

  ‘What’s wrong, you look absolutely petrified?’

  She watched as the man got back in the car. The engine roared loudly, the tyres spun and the car sped off back down the track at great speed.

  ‘It… it’s nothing. I thought I recognised the driver. I’m okay.’

  Greg was unconvinced but chose not to challenge her. She seemed completely strung out.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s walk down one of the nature trails.’

  Amberley could only nod in response. Her mind was racing with thoughts of Steve.

  ‘What I want to do initially is sell my paintings. I plan to speak to my old lecturers and maybe exhibit some of the students’ artwork here too. Keith is a volunteer guide at one of the nearby galleries. He has some useful contacts. He’ll be on duty tomorrow, why don’t you come and see him with me when he’s on his lunch break?’

  Amberley’s thoughts were still on the black car and its driver. She bumped into Greg.

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I was miles away what did you say?’

  ‘We can do this some other time if you want.’

  ‘No I really do want to help. I promise to pay attention.’

  He looked at her troubled face and wondered why she was so jumpy.

  ‘Okay I’ll come with you. It would be good to meet with Keith,’ she said, her mind still reeling with thoughts of Steve.

  They sat down on a bench by a stream. Amberley sighed heavily.

  ‘You seemed pretty freaked out by that guy and the black car. Are you okay now?’

  Amberley looked at him and Greg was horrified to see a solitary tear sliding down her cheek.

  ‘I didn’t only come here for a rest, Greg.’ She whispered softly. ‘I also came here to escape my past. And now I’m afraid it may have just caught up with me.’ She admitted tearfully to him.

  Greg put his arm round her shoulder and held her close. She took comfort in that closeness, and leaned into him. After a while, he placed her face in his
hands and looked deeply at the sadness he found there. His caring expression made her want to cry even more.

  ‘Why don’t you talk to me? It may help.’

  She looked down at her hands, which were balled into tight fists. Letting out a deep breath, she kicked at a stone on the ground.

  ‘I’ve already told you that I’m a workaholic. Since Mum and Dad died I’ve had little time for romance.’ She smiled bitterly before continuing. ‘Most guys I went on dates with got pretty fed up. I’d miss nights out or turn up late. After a while, they left me, hardly surprising really. It was difficult for them to cope with when work always came first.’

  She stopped for a moment; enjoying the feeling of comfort she had being this close to him.

  ‘About eighteen months ago,’ she continued. ‘I thought I’d found the one. Steve Jackson was caring, attentive, loving,’ she laughed mockingly, ‘how wrong I was. He turned out to be a jealous, aggressive bully and he’s part of the reason I’m here.’

  Greg’s fingers rubbed her shoulders comfortingly, never interrupting but waiting for her to carry on.

  ‘He began questioning my every movement. He embarrassed me when I took an important client to dinner by striding up to him – in the middle of the restaurant no less – and accusing us of sleeping together. After that, I told him it was over. However, he became obsessive, sending me huge bouquets of flowers, texting, e-mailing and following me everywhere. One time he even attempted to strangle me.’

  She felt Greg stiffen beside her.

  ‘That, and the pressure of the business, finally gave me a near nervous breakdown, which put me in hospital. That’s why I’m here – to recuperate.’

  She stood up and walked over to the stream, her arms folded around herself. Greg followed close behind her.

  ‘In the end I had my solicitor take out an injunction against him. That didn’t work, so the police got involved. When they went to arrest him, he’d disappeared. I thought that was him just now. I know he won’t stop until he finds me. I am frightened but I’m also as mad as hell. I want my life back. I want to be able to walk down a street without looking over my shoulder the whole time.’

  Angrily she punched one balled fist into her other hand.

  Greg held her close, kissing the top of her head, murmuring comforting words to her. ‘Was it Steve on the mobile that time… when I was at the cottage?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said her voice only just audible, ‘and that’s why the officers came to see me,’ she explained.

  Greg pulled her closer to him. ‘Don’t forget I’m only down the road if you ever need me. I mean it, Amberley, you’re not on your own.’

  She turned to look at him and stroked the side of his cheek. ‘I can’t involve you in this, Greg, he’s a complete psycho. There’s no telling what he’d do if he found out about you. I can’t put your life in danger.’

  ‘I want you to promise you’ll call me if you need me. And it will take more than some city type, who hits women, to scare me.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll bear it in mind. What I’d really love to do is tear him limb from limb for what he’s put me through.’

  ‘Don’t worry, the police will catch him. He’ll slip up at some stage.’ He spoke with confidence.

  ‘I sincerely hope so,’ she whispered, almost to herself.

  ‘Let’s get back.’ He suggested.

  As they drove off along the main road, deep in conversation, neither of them noticed the black car in the lay by just past the turning to the Craft Centre.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On Saturday morning, Greg called for Amberley. This time she made sure she was ready. She was at the gate when he turned up.

  ‘I’m impressed; you’re on time for once.’ He teased her.

  She punched him playfully on the arm as she got into his car. ‘I’ll go back inside and make you wait for another hour.’ She threatened.

  ‘You would as well wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I certainly would, shall I demonstrate?’ she reached for the car door, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

  ‘No it’s okay, I believe you.’

  ‘Where exactly are we going?’ she asked when Greg started up the engine.

  ‘Penlee House, Art Gallery and Museum. I haven’t visited since I’ve been back home. I used to go there all the time when I was at college. There are some amazing pictures in their collection. I thought we could look around while we wait for Keith. There’s a great little café called The Orangery; it looks out over the grounds. That’s where we’ll meet him at lunchtime.’

  Amberley had never taken an interest in art and she found it hard to understand why someone would stand for hours and look at a picture. Maybe Greg could persuade her otherwise. A black car overtook them on a bend going at least sixty miles an hour – the speed limit was forty. Greg slammed down hard on his brakes and sounded the horn, waving in anger at the driver. He pulled over by the side of the road.

  ‘Bloody hell he could have killed us! Are you okay?’ Greg’s voice was shaking. She was thoughtful for long moments, before responding, ‘I’m going to sound paranoid to you, but it looked like Steve’s car.’

  Greg put a hand on her arm. ‘Maybe it was the shock of thinking you saw him yesterday. It’s probably only a coincidence,’ he assured her.

  ‘Hmm, perhaps you’re right.’ Although still dubious, she made a mental note to add this incident to her log of other events when she got home.

  ***

  As soon as Greg entered Penlee House, it was clear that he loved the gallery with a passion. Amberley could feel his enthusiasm surround them. It was not hard to become caught up in it too.

  ‘What a beautiful painting,’ she said, pointing to the painting in front of her. The title of the picture was, ‘A lass that loves a sailor.’

  ‘You have good taste, that’s by my favourite artist, Walter Langley. If you move back a little bit, you can see the whole picture in perspective. If you stand too close you’ll miss too much of the detail. In my opinion, he was one of the better painters from the Newlyn School.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of Langley,’ she admitted, still looking at the painting.

  She had heard of the Newlyn School of painters though, her parents had often discussed them on their trips to Cornwall.

  ‘Why is he your favourite?’

  ‘Out of all the artists, he was the one most concerned with the hardships of the local people. He painted every day life in Newlyn, highlighting hardships the locals had to deal with. I wrote my dissertation about him at college.’

  Greg slipped an arm around Amberley’s shoulder. His face was close to hers, his mouth level with her ear. Her pulse quickened at this closeness.

  ‘The artists loved to paint in this part of the world because of the quality of the light. A technique called ‘En plein air’ or ‘in the open air’, which most of them learnt in France, was used here,’ he explained gently to her.

  ‘And that’s why so many artists still come here. It gives the picture a freshness and vibrancy,’ he said, whispering the words, sounding like a lover and causing her whole body to tingle. The look on his face was so passionate that she burned under his gaze. She wondered if he looked that way in the throes of passion.

  ‘What time are we meeting Keith?’ she said, swallowing hard.

  ‘He finishes at around one. Let’s make our way to the café now, it’s almost that time,’ he said, glancing at his watch.

  Whilst sipping her drink, Amberley remembered how good Greg’s mouth had felt on hers and she touched her lips absently and smiled. It would be so good to pull his lips down to hers and re-enact the whole thing over again. Looking up, she saw him studying her expression.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ He asked the question as if he already knew the answer.

  A larger than life male voice interrupted their conversation.

  ‘Well, well, well, Greg Winters, you are a dark horse. You never mentioned that this lovely lady was the friend you w
ere bringing with you.’

  Amberley stared directly at Greg who looked apologetically at her.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t tell Keith you were the friend I was bringing with me. I had visions of him telling everyone and I didn’t think you’d want that.’

  ‘Hi, Keith, pleased to meet you… again, I’m Amberley,’ she said, flashing him a devastating smile, hoping Greg would notice. Unfortunately, he had seen someone he recognised and was waving at her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Greg, he went over to the woman, and hugged her to him.

  Amberley tried to hide her chagrin but it was so hard.

  ‘Popular with the women is Greg, always has been,’ said Keith, amused by Amberley’s expression.

  Greg came strolling back. ‘Sorry about that, one of my old college mates.’ He explained.

  Amberley couldn’t help but notice the way the woman eyed him with an almost predatory look.

  ‘Well, Keith,’ said Amberley trying to focus. ‘Greg tells me you have a good financial brain.’

  ‘Hopefully my accounting degree will speak for itself. I’ve also heard that you’re a dab hand when it comes to advertising. It seems we need to help our mate out a little.’

  ‘I was saying to Greg that it might be a good idea to speak to the owners and see what plans they have for advertising their venture as a whole. It would make more sense to have one company deal with the entire project.’ She advised.

  ‘Hmm yes that’s a great idea, Amberley. Well, Greg, she’s not just a pretty face is she?’

  ‘Thanks, guys, I owe you both.’

  ‘Well, you can start by bringing Amberley to our beach get together. If you don’t remember the date, it’s two weeks tomorrow. Everyone definitely has to meet her. Oh and Em…, well, lots of people will be there.’ He glanced furtively towards Greg, who shot him a warning glance.

  ‘I guess it would be a great way for you to get out and meet people,’ said Greg half-heartedly.

  She didn’t feel as though he was completely happy with the idea. ‘I’ll think about it, thanks for the offer. Does anyone want another drink?’