An Image of You

by Liz Fielding

  ‘Your father tells me you refuse to be credited with your picture.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to him again?’ She shrugged. ‘You know my feelings. It was bad enough working on the wretched thing. I won’t have my name attached to it.’

  ‘And I absolutely insist that you do. It was not my photograph, George. I refuse to have my name on it. You have no one but yourself to blame, you know. I told Walter you were not to take it. I knew how you felt. I should have known you would have to play the martyr.’ He went on hurriedly as she began to wave the lilies threateningly. ‘Besides, I’ve thought of a way around it.’

  ‘Of course there’s a way around it. Say you took it.’

  He shook his head. ‘And help you off a hook of your own choosing? Never. Besides, I believe you’re making a great deal too much fuss considering your offer to personally finance the next one.’ The touch of triumph in his voice brought her up short.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  But he had returned to the contemplation of his camera. ‘Look a bit to the left, will you? Chin up.’ She heard the motor wind stop and turned back angrily, but he was smiling. ‘Your exact words—correct me if I’m wrong—were, “I wouldn’t care how many photographs you took of half-naked women. I’d finance the wretched calendar myself if it would make you happy”.’ He raised a questioning brow. ‘About right?’

  Her breathing was too quick. ‘You were conscious?’

  ‘Semi-conscious, I suppose. Drifting. Coming round. I could hear. You told me about your hippy pensioner. You promised to tell me all about the others. But you didn’t come back,’ he added reproachfully.

  ‘You told me to go home to … all of them. So I did.’

  He was dismissive. ‘It took a day or so for my memory to reassert itself. Bits kept floating back. At first I thought I had just dreamt it all. But I remembered the kiss. I remembered that very clearly. Just keep looking like that.’ He pressed the remote switch and again the motor-wind drove the film on. ‘Just keep looking like that.’ He walked swiftly across to her and lifted her chin with his hand. ‘Always look at me like that.’

  His mouth caressed her lips so gently that she scarcely felt their touch, but when he stepped back she moaned, leaning towards him, letting the lilies fall to the floor.

  He caught her shoulders and held her at bay. ‘You’ll understand my surprise at hearing you confess to being the “original panting virgin”. Especially since you had gone to such great lengths to convince me that you were not.’

  She coloured. ‘You were going to do something about that.’

  ‘It’s on the agenda, my love.’

  ‘At the meetings I go to everyone has a copy of the agenda, so that we know where we are.’

  ‘I’m making it up as I go along. Put it under “Any Other Business”. Does that sound right?’

  ‘Perfect. But you mustn’t let people linger over unimportant items.’

  ‘Because you have a busy day ahead of you?’

  She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. ‘Oh, yes. Without doubt. The busiest.’ With a fierce groan he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the narrow stairs, pausing only to kick open the bedroom door and set her down. Then he began, without haste, to unhook the fastenings that held her dress together.

  It was too slow. Georgette shivered, every part of her responding as his fingers brushed against her skin, igniting the desire that she had kept damped down for far too long. There was no hesitation now. Only the impatience for discovery. Her dress fell in a heap at her feet and she stepped free of it, adding her remaining garments to the pile. She turned for his inspection. His eyes were all the words she needed and she held out her arms to him, offering herself without reservation.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Georgette. Clever. Kind. And beautiful. It’s too much in one woman.’ He buried his head in her neck and began to trail kisses down to her breast.

  ‘You’ve forgotten “rich”,’ she groaned.

  ‘I don’t give a damn about your money. Give it all away.’

  ‘Oh, Lukas. That’s what I’ve been trying to do.’ She laughed. ‘That’s just what I’ve been trying to do. But can we talk about it later?’ She began to undo the buttons of his shirt. With a harsh, grating breath he dragged her to him and carried her across to the bed.

  ‘You witch. I’m being taken advantage of. All you want is my body.’ He tore off his clothes and lay down beside her.

  ‘I’ll let you know,’ George murmured and pressed against him, feeling the rough hair of his chest against her breasts and the hardness she wanted so much. She ran one hand down his spine, drawing him close and gasping with raw pleasure as his tongue laid siege to her mouth and his hands began a gentle exploration of her body. A soft moan escaped her as he took a proud rose-coloured nipple between his lips and grazed it with his teeth, then continued downwards, trailing kisses across her taut body. He returned his attention to her neglected breast and drew it hungrily into his mouth. She whimpered, arching towards him, the ache between her thighs desperate for a release that only he could give her.

  ‘Lukas, please …’ she begged him and he groaned, easing himself between her legs, until he was where she wanted him. For a moment he held her against him, close and still. She didn’t hear the soft cry deep in her throat as she moved desperately against him. But he did, and, responding to the desire that had darkened her eyes, he gradually began to move within her, stoking the fire, setting her alight, until they matched one another in a wild surge of passion, Lukas driving her to dizzy heights of pleasure that she had not dreamed possible. Then, when she thought nothing more was possible, he lost control and they fell together out of their depth and floated downwards into a bottomless sea.

  When they surfaced the phone was ringing. Lukas leaned across George. ‘I’m sorry. If I don’t answer it will go on forever.’

  She buried her face in his warm shoulder, finding pleasure in the touch of his skin against her own. He raised himself upon one elbow, kissing her very deliberately and, without taking his eyes off her, he lifted the receiver. ‘Lukas.’

  He smiled as he listened, experimenting with butterfly kisses to her eyes. ‘Sorry, Charles. Georgette won’t be able to make lunch.’ George gasped and made a grab for the phone and he rolled on top of her, pinning her arms beneath him. ‘Besides, we’ve already eaten.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Yes, I suppose it is a bit early. But we were hungry, and if you’ll excuse us, we’re just about to start dessert.’ He dropped the phone back on the cradle and then he had second thoughts and removed it. He released George, who had been beating against his chest without any success. ‘Will he be shocked, do you think?’

  ‘He’s been polishing his shotgun for weeks,’ she replied, breathlessly. ‘Now what did you say about dessert?’

  ‘You’re shameless. It’s quite shocking how pleased you look with yourself.’ He rolled on to his back and pulled her on top of him, delicately licking her nipples. ‘Whatever happened to that tiresome and slightly batty female who drove me mad in Kenya?’

  ‘She’s still about somewhere. Just below the surface. Looking for a new hat, I shouldn’t wonder. I rely on you to keep her at bay.’

  ‘Quite a job,’ he laughed softly.

  ‘Full time,’ she promised and allowed her hands a little exploration of their own.

  He drew in a sharp breath and caught her hands and held them captive in his own.

  ‘Didn’t you like that?’ George asked, innocently.

  ‘Later, my sweet. While I recover my strength you have a little explaining to do.’

  She looked thoughtful, and then smiled. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I know all about Bob. But who the devil are Tatty, Jeff, Alan, and Jay?’ He rolled over on to his side. Still holding her close.

  ‘Where shall I begin?’ She grinned down at him.

  ‘Jeff?’

  ‘Jeff is an out-of-work miner from the north-east. He came down to Lon
don looking for work, but he needed an address, somewhere to put his head down. The girl at the Job Centre sent him to me.’ She grinned. ‘He has a wife and three children. He’s gone now. He found a job and his family have joined him.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. And Tatty? That’s a very odd name.’

  She giggled. ‘He’s covered in tattoos.’

  ‘Covered, George?’

  She lowered her lashes. ‘So I’ve been told.’

  ‘Hmm. What about Alan and Jay?’

  George looked momentarily serious. ‘I still have to do something about Alan. He’s a fourteen-year-old living rough on the Embankment. Sometimes I can persuade him to come home for a meal and a wash and with luck he falls asleep on the sofa. I’ve tried to get him to go home, but he won’t.’

  Lukas shifted and began to toy with her breast. ‘I’ll have to see if I can help. And Jay?’

  ‘Yes, Jay.’ She rolled over on to her back and stared at the ceiling. ‘Jay is my biggest problem. He can’t be left, you see. He needs a permanent home and I’ve promised I’ll always keep him with me.’

  Lukas turned her face towards him. ‘He’ll have to live with us, then? When we’re married? Not exactly what I’d had in mind.’ He dropped a kiss on to her lips. ‘I hope he won’t be too intrusive.’

  George heard the words, but could hardly bring herself to believe them. ‘Married?’

  He propped himself up on an elbow and looked serious. ‘Yes. It’s an old-fashioned custom, but still currently in use, in which two people swear to love one another until the end of their days. It also has the magic effect of changing the female’s surname to that of the male involved, thus solving the little problem of the attribution of the calendar. If we’re both called Lukas, no one will know who took what picture.’

  ‘That’s not a very good reason to get married, Lukas.’ She frowned. ‘Haven’t you got another name? You can’t be just Lukas.’

  ‘Not one that anyone, except my grandfather, has ever called me, and he’s dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Pa told me about … what happened to you and your family. I understand what you meant about ideals …’

  He quietened her with a long and lingering kiss. ‘It’s Karel. Not ideal for a nine-year-old boy going to a tough London primary school. Better forgotten.’

  ‘But that’s so sad,’ Georgette murmured. ‘Karel.’ She tried the name.

  Lukas groaned. ‘I don’t care what you call me. Just say you’ll marry me.’

  She sighed. ‘But Jay … Are you sure you want to give him a home? He can be an absolute nuisance at times.’

  ‘Georgette, I’ve known you a very short time, but long enough to know that if you make a promise you keep it.’

  She stared at him in amazement. ‘You really mean it, don’t you? You’d take in some waif from the streets, sight unseen?’

  ‘If you’re part of the bargain. I discovered very quickly, my love, that while life with you may have its ups and downs I cannot imagine living it without you.’

  ‘Did it take you a whole month to decide that?’ she whispered.

  ‘Oh, no. After I had kissed you, that was never in doubt. But I had commitments. Michael and I went off to Sudan to take some photographs for Save the Children. What a pair. Two good legs between us.’

  ‘Lukas!’

  ‘It set the ankle back a bit, and frankly the thought of making love to you without all my faculties was enough to make the strongest man tremble.’

  ‘Silly. I’d have helped,’ she teased.

  ‘Then I was so mad with you that I sent that photograph to the Chronicle. Were you angry?’

  ‘Only that you didn’t telephone to gloat.’

  ‘May I take that as an acceptance of my proposal? Or shall I go down on one knee?’

  She gave him a lingering kiss. ‘I’m tempted.’ He groaned and she laughed. ‘Perhaps not. I’ll take the bent knee as read. It seems a little out of place after what we’ve just done.’

  ‘Nonsense! Have you no romance in your soul?’ He leapt out of bed and, taking her hand, went on one knee.

  ‘Miss Georgette Bainbridge, will you do me the immense honour of marrying me?’

  She lay back, helpless with laughter. ‘Get back in bed, you’ll catch cold,’ she gasped.

  ‘Put me out of my misery first,’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Lukas. I love you so much.’ She buried her face in his shoulder as he returned to the warmth of her body. After a while she raised her head and smiled. ‘And I know Jay will be so pleased. He doesn’t take up a lot of room, Lukas. In fact he’s been living in the office since I went to Kenya, but the cleaners hate it. And his language has always been a problem. Heaven knows where he picked it up.’

  ‘He lives in the office?’ Lukas looked temporarily lost for words.

  ‘But you’ve been to the office. You must have seen him.’ She gurgled, barely able to contain herself. ‘In Bishop’s office. My parrot …’ She squealed as he grabbed her. And then she didn’t say anything very much for quite some time.

  * * *

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen. It is a very great pleasure to be here this afternoon to officially open the refuge to which my daughter has given so much of her time during the last few months.

  ‘When she first told me about her plans I was so much against them that I made the somewhat rash move of sending her to Africa to get over it. As a result of that I now have a son-in-law and a grandchild very much on the way.’ Sir Charles Bainbridge looked at the couple beside him and smiled. ‘Not that I’m complaining.’ The residents of the converted warehouse officially called the Docklands Re-settlement Centre, but known to everyone simply as ‘George’s’, gave a rousing cheer. ‘You’ve all worked hard and with great enthusiasm to bring the centre to fruition. I hope it will provide shelter and temporary housing for a great many people, and give those of you who started it a launching platform for a better future.’ He beamed around. ‘Now isn’t it about time we broached the beer?’

  The party was in full swing and nobody noticed when George and Lukas left.

  ‘Satisfied, Georgette?’

  ‘Mmm.’ She was thoughtful. ‘I was just wondering. Now we’ve got Alan settled with Jeff and his family, we really ought to be doing something for the rest of those children.’ She placed her hand on the bulge below her own breast. ‘What do you think?’

  Lukas stopped and turned. ‘This is it, isn’t it?’ He asked. ‘For the rest of our lives?’

  She laughed softly. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No, my love. We have so very much, after all.’ And he kissed his wife quite thoroughly to prove it.

  ISBN: 9781460392195

  An Image of You

  Copyright © 2014 by Liz Fielding

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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