A Rumoured Engagement

by Catherine George

  ‘Are you all right, darling?’ said Marina anxiously. ‘You sound a bit strange. Was Francis nasty?’

  ‘A bit,’ said Saskia in a constricted tone, trying to halt Luke’s hands. ‘But nothing I couldn’t handle. How are the twins?’

  Marina went on to give a reassuring report on their progress, asked again if Saskia was feeling well, and only put an end to the conversation when her daughter promised to ring again next day to confirm that she wasn’t coming down with something.

  ‘You monster!’ she panted as Luke put the phone back. ‘How did you expect me to carry on a conversation when you were—?’

  ‘Doing this?’ he said huskily, and proceeded, in a very leisurely and relishing way, to undress her. ‘I’ve been wanting to from the moment I found you in the bath, Saskia Ford. If you stop me now I’m likely to explode into a thousand pieces.’

  ‘Then I won’t,’ she whispered, but put a hand over her eyes as Luke finished his task with tormenting slowness. Afterwards he lay propped on one elbow, his eyes moving over her in relishing silence.

  ‘What a lot of time we’ve wasted,’ he said, in a voice rendered hoarse by desire. ‘I want you so much, Sassy.’

  Her eyes flew open at that, the words reaching something deep inside that settled and warmed her as though the last of her doubts had been laid to rest.

  ‘Have you any idea how hard it was to leave you alone with Lawford just now?’ he demanded. ‘I wanted to do a whole lot more than black his eye.’ Luke stood up, and with sudden impatience stripped off his clothes, then lay down beside her and took her into his arms, one long-fingered hand moulding her against him from head to toe.

  He made no comment on the fact that she was shaking like a jelly, noted Saskia, deeply touched because Luke was merely holding her close and making no attempt to begin the hasty onslaught which had been her experience in the past.

  ‘Relax,’ he said in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. ‘We’ve got all night. Because if anyone else rings up, or hammers on my door, they’re out of luck.’ He drew her closer. ‘Stop trembling, Sassy. Delectable though you may be, I’m not going to eat you.’

  As a lover’s opening gambit it was remarkably successful. Saskia not only relaxed, she thrust herself closer, and evoked an anguished groan for her pains.

  ‘I’m trying to take this slowly,’ and Luke severely, and put her away. ‘Just lie there so I can look at you.’

  ‘But that’s not fair,’ she objected, turning her head away.

  ‘All’s fair in love, Sassy.’ He brought her face back to his, smiling in a way which roused a fiery response in every secret, melting part of her. With slow, savouring pleasure he began to kiss and caress her inch by inch, leaving no part of her body neglected. At first she did her best to lie still, but her breath grew laboured, her pulse raced, her head tossed back and forth on the pillow, and at last her exploring fingers dug into his shoulders in such frantic demand that his mouth closed on hers, and he grasped her hips, lifting them to his, so that their bodies fitted together with all the miraculous exactitude of two halves becoming whole.

  Saskia gasped, her mouth open against his, as he began to move gently, subtly at first, until his own need overtook him and he made love to her with a frenzy she urged him to with arts she’d never realised she possessed. At last she stiffened, cried out, and Luke held her close as they gasped together in the culmination he had taken such great care to ensure she experienced before he did.

  It was a long time before Luke moved, and when he did it was only to draw the covers over them and hold the sleeping girl more comfortably in his arms. When Saskia woke, an hour or so later, she looked up into Luke’s face with a smile of such triumph he laughed, and rubbed his nose against hers. ‘You see?’ he said lazily.

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. ‘See what?’ she said cautiously.

  ‘It isn’t mandatory to separate after making love.’

  Heat rose in her cheeks. ‘No,’ she agreed, and stretched luxuriously all along the hard length of him. ‘I’m just sorry I wasted so much time before I found out,’ she said with regret.

  He shook his head in wonder. ‘Hard to believe, now, that only a short time ago you were as friendly as a caged tigress towards me, and that I really did think of you as a younger sister.’

  Saskia gazed at him thoughtfully. ‘And was it really just one look that changed all that, when you found me at the villa?’

  Luke traced a finger down her cheek. ‘It certainly opened my eyes to the fact that you’d grown up into a very desirable woman. And gradually, as I spent more time in your company in the days that followed, it became clearer by the minute that my feelings towards you weren’t fraternal in the slightest. And then, the night of the Harleys’ vendemmia party, watching you dance with Dante and the others, I felt so damn jealous I had to hold back from snatching you away. It was becoming a matter of urgency to stop you thinking of me as a brother.’

  ‘But that was my particular problem from the moment you arrived in my life—I never did think of you as a brother,’ she confessed. ‘I used my hostility as a smokescreen to hide my real feelings towards you. Even from myself.’

  ‘So how do you feel now?’

  ‘Utterly wonderful.’ She smiled at him, her eyes glittering. ‘Also hungry. Didn’t you say something earlier about sandwiches?’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NEXT morning, after Luke had left for the day, Saskia went off to the interview at the large, elegant Kensington shop where Theo and Margaret Harper sold porcelain and antique furniture. They were a very friendly couple, and after a quick look at Saskia’s CV they gave her a tour of the premises, introduced her to the existing staff, then took her up to their flat for coffee.

  ‘I don’t mind telling you,’ said Margaret, who was an elegant blonde woman in her forties, ‘that the people we’ve interviewed so far just wouldn’t have fitted in. We need to have confidence in our employees, since we spend so much time at auctions and house sales and so on.’ She exchanged a look with her husband, then smiled at Saskia. ‘We both feel that you’d be an asset to our team, Miss Ford. So instead of beating about the bush we may as well tell you that the job’s yours if you want it.’

  Saskia went off to ring her mother with the glad news, then headed for the pub Luke frequented for lunch. She sat down at a secluded table at the back of the bar, feeling very pleased with herself and life in general as she ordered a glass of mineral water.

  The place was full by the time Luke came hurrying in. His face lit up as he spotted her, and she got up, giving him a thumbs-up sign of triumph as he weaved his way through the tables towards her.

  ‘You got the job!’ He gave her a swift, jubilant kiss, then moved his chair closer and demanded all the details of her interview. ‘I knew the Harpers would like you,’ he said, when she’d finished.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘How could they help it?’ he said simply. ‘By the way’, he said, after they’d ordered lunch. ‘I had a phone call from young Dante this morning. He’s coming over today and wants to know if he can take you out to dinner.’

  Saskia’s eyes widened. ‘What did you say?’

  Luke gave her an evil grin. ‘I told him to ring you later at the house and ask you himself.’

  ‘You did what?’ she demanded wrathfully.

  He shrugged, the grin widening. ‘You’re usually banging on about independence and equality and so on. I didn’t dare answer for you.’

  ‘Just for that, Lucius Armytage, I shall accept his invitation with pleasure,’ she retorted.

  ‘By all means,’ he said, with deflating promptness. ‘But only if I come, too.’

  They exchanged a long look, full of mutual memories of the night before. Her lips parted, and Luke leaned nearer involuntarily, then the waitress interrupted them with two plates of food neither of them did much justice to.

  ‘See what you reduce me to?’ said Luke, eyeing his bowl of mussels without enthusias
m. ‘I’ve lost my appetite.’

  ‘I’ll come off my equality soap-box and make dinner for you tonight,’ she promised. ‘I’m not hungry either.’

  ‘Don’t wear yourself out,’ said Luke, eyes gleaming. ‘I’d rather you ordered dinner in than get too tired.’

  ‘I shall cook,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve lost you a very remunerative order, remember? So I’m not going to waste money on takeaway food when I can whip something up for a lot less.’

  ‘A pearl above price,’ he murmured, stroking the back of her hand. ‘However, if you’re talking about Francis, have no fear. Lawford Senior sent me a fax doubling the order for the French house wine I supplied last month. It’s going down very well indeed, he informed me. The heir apparent will have his work cut out to cancel something that’s making the restaurants a substantial profit.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Saskia, shaking her head. ‘Francis isn’t going to like that. I remember he was a bit caustic over that feature on you in the press when your book was published—not to mention the flattering photograph.’

  ‘I didn’t know you’d seen that,’ said Luke, moving closer.

  ‘Mother showed it to me.’

  ‘Joel Gilbert did the piece, actually. The man you met at the party. Joel did a piece on Francis, too, a while back.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know that was Joel’s work.’ Saskia chuckled. ‘Francis was a bit miffed because the piece was very brief and didn’t include the photograph he supplied.’

  ‘Forget Francis,’ said Luke dismissively, his hand tightening on hers. ‘I’ll try to get home earlier tonight.’

  ‘Don’t think I’m going to cook for you every night,’ she informed him, her eyes belying the tartness in her voice. ‘Once I’m back at the bank you’ll be lucky to get a sandwich.’

  ‘A dinner of herbs will do equally well,’ he assured her, and shot to his feet as he looked at the clock. ‘Is that the time? I must go. I’ve got some shipments arriving at the warehouse this afternoon, which will please my mail-order staff.’

  Outside, Luke kissed her quickly, then hailed a taxi and put her in it. ‘See you later, Sassy. Be good.’

  Saskia had been honest about her eating habits after a day at the bank. On evenings in, alone at the flat, she ate salad or took something home from a delicatessen. And Francis had preferred restaurants to home-cooked suppers.

  But tonight, Saskia decided, as the taxi set her down at the supermarket nearest Luke’s house, she would pull out all the stops.

  She was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan, when he came through the door, his eyes alight with pleasure at the sight of her in a striped butcher’s apron protecting the clinging brown dress. She laid down her wooden spoon and held her face up for his kiss as though this were something they’d been doing for years.

  ‘You’ve got half an hour,’ she warned when he let her go.

  He sprang to attention smartly. ‘Yes, ma’am! Do I get a prize if I’m early?’

  She gave him a prim smile. ‘Possibly.’

  Luke made for the stairs, then turned to look at her. ‘I like this, Sassy. I like it a lot.’

  She nodded gravely. ‘So do I.’

  Both pairs of green eyes met in perfect accord, then he smiled his lopsided smile and took the stairs two at a time, all sign of weariness vanished.

  When Luke returned, his long legs encased in silvery-drab needlecord, he was wearing a green silk shirt the colour of his eyes.

  ‘We’re having fish,’ said Saskia, controlling her pleasure at the sight of him. ‘So I leave the choice of wine to you.’

  Luke kissed her nose as he passed her on the way to the refrigerator in the pantry. He came back with a very impressive bottle of champagne in his hand. ‘I’ve had this waiting since your promise to come and live with me.’

  ‘I thought I was only agreeing to a rent-free room, Lucius Armytage,’ she reminded him, then smiled to take the sting out of the words. ‘All the rest came as a wonderful bonus.’

  He bowed gracefully. ‘Which we shall celebrate, whatever we’re eating, with this venerable Krug.’

  Saskia watched, impressed, as he eased out the champagne cork. ‘No showerbath?’ she commented

  ‘Just a wisp of smoke like the sigh of a satisfied woman,’ he informed her, lips twitching.

  ‘You’d know more than me about that!’ she retorted as he went over to a cupboard to search for some flutes.

  ‘Are you paying me a compliment?’ he asked, chuckling, as he handed her a glass of champagne.

  ‘I suppose I am,’ she admitted, flushing. ‘So, what shall we drink to?’

  ‘To our ceasefire,’ he said promptly. ‘May it never be broken.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ she agreed, and took a mouthful of wine. ‘Oh, Luke, this is glorious. Even to my uneducated palate.’

  They sat nibbling nuts and sipping the champagne, talking non-stop about Luke’s day and the prospect of Saskia’s new job.

  ‘Dante rang, by the way,’ she said at one point. ‘He laughed when I said you insisted on coming to dinner, too. He’s got such good manners—insisted he’s delighted.’

  ‘He’s also too good-looking by far, and if you think I’m letting you out alone with him you’re mistaken.’

  ‘I do love it when you’re masterful,’ she teased, then eyed the shirt. ‘That matches your eyes. Did you buy it for the precise purpose of seducing your dinner partners?’

  ‘Certainly not’ Luke smiled virtuously. ‘It was a present’

  Saskia sniffed. ‘Zoë, I suppose?’

  ‘Actually, no. It was your mother.’ He smiled smugly. ‘Did I make you jealous?’

  ‘Was that your intention?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she retorted, eyes flashing, then jumped to her feet as the oven-timer went off. She went over and removed a baking dish which held a foil parcel. She slit it open, then brought the dish over for him to inspect

  Luke eyed the magnificent fillet of fish smothered in herbs, then smiled up at her. ‘Ah. “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,”‘ he quoted.

  ‘Otherwise known as my Italian grandmother’s way with sea-bass,’ said Saskia, pleased he’d got the point.

  ‘You,’ said Luke, after an interval of serious eating, ‘are the most amazing cook, Sassy. I’m impressed.’

  ‘I do the same as you,’ she informed him, mouth full. ‘I only attempt the things within my capabilities. Which means you had a salad with the fish, and for pudding apple pie from the local bakery. But as a consolation I’ve made proper custard—a fairly new talent I learned at home recently, because Jonty and Matt adore the stuff.’

  ‘If it’s Marina’s recipe I’m a happy man. Very happy,’ said Luke, putting down his knife and fork with a sigh. He refilled her glass with champagne. ‘Have some of this while we bid farewell to that magnificent fish.’

  Saskia sipped with caution. ‘This is my second glass, so I’ll go slowly.’ She grinned. ‘Otherwise you may have to put me to bed again.’

  ‘Since I’m going to do that anyway, why not risk a taste more Krug?’ He let out a deep breath in response to the glittering look she gave him. ‘Though if you eye me in that precise way, Sassy, you risk being put to bed right now.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not,’ she said firmly, ‘until we’ve eaten the pudding.’

  Saskia found it very hard to detach herself from Luke’s arms next morning and get ready for her first day back at the bank. Not only because she had no wish to get out of bed, but because Luke objected strongly to letting her go.

  ‘What time will you be home?’ he demanded, hands behind his head as he watched her wrap herself in her dressing gown.

  ‘Haven’t a clue,’ she said gloomily. ‘Knowing my dear boss, he’ll have a pile of leftover work for me before I even get to grips with the current stuff. While you’re enjoying yourself with your vintage nectar think of me among the financial warfare.’

  ‘I wil
l think of you. And of this, Sassy. Far more than I should.’ His eyes held hers, and without a word she melted into his outstretched arms.

  In consequence, although she skipped breakfast and Luke drove her to the underground, Saskia arrived on the trading floor of the bank fifteen minutes late, to find Charles Harrison waiting for her with a face like thunder.

  But it would have taken more than Charles Harrison’s wrath to chasten her on this particular morning, thought Saskia, when she finally got to grips with her workload. There were several messages from the switchboard on her desk, reporting calls from Francis Lawford during her absence, and she tore them up with much satisfaction, then plunged into the usual chaotic demands of the day.

  Instead of going out to lunch, Saskia sent out for a sandwich and ate it at her desk while she composed her letter of resignation. Afterwards she went straight on with her work, eager to leave near her usual time, only to be interrupted by Charles brandishing her resignation in fury. She sat, unmoved, while he raged and stormed at her, until at last he changed tactics and offered a substantial rise in salary. She refused it politely, assured him she was not getting married, and reminded him to leave promptly since Mrs Harrison had guests for dinner.

  Saskia was very tired when she left the bank a good half-hour later than intended. She emerged into pouring rain, and to her intense dismay found Francis waiting outside under an umbrella.

  ‘I need a word,’ he said, seizing her arm.

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ she retorted angrily, trying to free herself.

  ‘I strongly advise you to listen.’

  Something vicious in his tone alarmed her. ‘Why?’