Forbidden Desires

by Anderson, Marina

  Edmund came round from his side of the car and stood beside his wife, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Immaculate as ever, in a three-piece navy suit, crisp white shirt and maroon silk tie, he looked more like a barrister or surgeon than a film backer, and Harriet, seeing him and his tall, blatantly sexual, blonde wife standing together, wondered what on earth they could have in common apart from the sex.

  Edmund’s soft dark eyes met hers and for a moment she had the terrible feeling that he could read her mind because there was a slight smile playing at the corners of his sensuous mouth.

  ‘How’s the blushing bride?’ he asked laconically.

  ‘Exhausted!’ retorted Harriet.

  ‘And the bridegroom?’

  Lewis grinned. ‘Tired, but not too tired. Let’s hope the rain stops soon. I’m anxious to see all these views that Harriet’s been on about.’

  Lewis’s chauffeur cleared his throat. ‘Forecast’s good, sir,’ he ventured. ‘I’ve got a cousin lives near here. He told me it was going to be hot and dry for the next three weeks.’

  ‘No doubt he tells all the visitors that!’ laughed Lewis. ‘Get the cases inside, please. We’ve stood out in this rain long enough. Come on, darling,’ he added, putting an arm round Harriet’s waist. ‘There’s meant to be a housekeeper on call, let’s hope she’s got the kettle on.’

  ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea,’ agreed Harriet.

  Edmund watched the two of them walking into the house, studied the movement of Harriet’s legs through the flimsy material of her skirt, and felt a flutter of excitement behind his ribs. He’d seen the way she’d looked at him when he’d been standing with Noella, and read the look in her eyes. Clearly she was intrigued by him, and that was very much to his advantage.

  ‘I’m freezing,’ complained Noella. ‘Why didn’t I bring my fur wrap?’

  ‘Because it’s midsummer and you didn’t think you’d need it. Anyway, a fur wrap would be a little out of place here. I’ll warm you up later,’ he promised, his eyes suddenly narrowing.

  ‘Let’s take a bath together,’ suggested Noella as they entered the lobby. ‘I’ll let you soap my back if you let me—’

  Before she could finish a young man of about twenty-eight came out of one of the doors that led into the lobby and held out his hand. ‘Mr James? I’m Oliver Kesby, the owner of Penruan House. I hope everything’s as you requested, but if you should find—’

  ‘I’m not Mr James,’ interrupted Edmund. ‘He’s already inside. I’m Edmund Mitchell and this is my wife Noella. We’re staying here with Lewis.’

  Oliver’s tanned face coloured and he hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

  Noella studied him with interest. He was around five feet ten inches tall and very well built. His thick dark brown hair was cut quite short which emphasised the almost perfect shape of his head, while his eyes, which were light blue with dark lashes, were positively magnetic.

  ‘You mean this is your home?’ she exclaimed. ‘Gee, if it were my home I sure as hell wouldn’t let it out to other people in the summertime.’

  Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘It’s a matter of finance really,’ he murmured. ‘Besides, this place is far too big for me. I’ve got a nice cottage in the grounds. I live there all through the letting season.’

  ‘How interesting,’ said Edmund, his voice clearly indicating that it wasn’t.

  Oliver blushed even more fiercely. ‘Perhaps you could tell Mr James where to find me if he needs anything,’ he suggested awkwardly.

  ‘Perhaps I could,’ agreed Edmund. ‘The question is, will I?’

  ‘Ignore him, he loves to be pedantic,’ Noella told the bewildered Oliver, before hurrying her husband through the entrance lobby into the main hall.

  ‘You weren’t very nice to him, Edmund,’ she said reproachfully, as soon as they were out of Oliver’s earshot.

  ‘You more than made up for that,’ said Edmund curtly. ‘I thought you were going to eat him up on the spot.’

  The door to the drawing room opened and Harriet put her head out. ‘Come and look at this, you two, it’s really lovely. And Mrs Webster’s making us some tea and scones, and—’

  ‘You like the simple pleasures of life, do you, Harriet?’ asked Edmund softly.

  Harriet stopped what she was saying and turned a surprisingly cool gaze on her husband’s friend. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Is there anything wrong with that?’

  He smiled, and when he did so his whole face changed. It became more open and added some much needed warmth to his presence. ‘Nothing at all,’ he assured her. ‘In fact, it should mean that you thoroughly appreciate our landlord, Oliver Kesby.’

  ‘I take it that means you think he’s simple,’ laughed Lewis, appearing in the doorway behind his wife.

  Noella walked into the drawing room, pushing past the newlyweds and leaving her husband in the hall. ‘He’s gone on the turn,’ she announced to no one in particular, ‘Just ignore him; with any luck his mood might change in an hour or two.’

  Lewis looked questioningly at Edmund. ‘Anything wrong?’

  Edmund shook his head. ‘Of course not, everything’s fine. I’m feeling a trifle jet lagged, that’s all.’

  ‘Come and sit in here; that should make you feel better. There’s even a genuine log fire, unlit but still very reassuring.’

  ‘You’re a lucky man, Lewis,’ Edmund murmured beneath his breath as he walked past his friend. ‘For the first time ever, I really envy you.’

  This was exactly the kind of thing Lewis had hoped to hear from the point of view of his script. After all, he knew that unless Edmund desired Harriet nothing would happen. Harriet wasn’t the kind of person who would make the first move, especially on her honeymoon, but just the same he felt a sudden surge of anger that he had to struggle to suppress.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked in mock innocence. ‘My fame?’

  ‘Your wife,’ said Edmund shortly, and even Lewis was taken aback by the strength of the emotion behind the two words.

  ‘I’ve always had a weak spot for Noella,’ Lewis retorted softly, but Edmund merely smiled. He knew full well that Noella wasn’t Lewis’s kind of woman. In fact, until the arrival of Harriet on the scene, Edmund had thought that Lewis would never allow himself to become deeply involved with any kind of woman. News of Lewis’s impending second marriage had taken Edmund by surprise, but having met Harriet he fully understood Lewis’s desire to make her his. The only thing was, Edmund suspected that Harriet was the kind of woman who never truly belonged to anyone.

  The large drawing room was bright and cheerful. None of the furniture matched, but the overall effect was pleasing on the eye. Edmund sat down on a red two-seater sofa with a table lamp next to it and a profusion of red and black scatter cushions littered along the seat. He had to throw them on the floor before he could make himself comfortable.

  Noella sat next to him, her almost matching red skirt again riding high up her thighs, while Harriet seated herself in a deep chair with a steeply angled back. She curled her long slim legs up beneath her in order to be comfortable. She was showing far less leg than Noella but the effect on both Edmund and Lewis was much greater.

  As Mrs Webster brought in the tray of tea and scones and fussed around putting cups and plates on different tables, Lewis stood by one of the windows and watched the scene as dispassionately as he could.

  It would transfer well to film he thought, and mentally tried to cast Noella from among the current list of popular blonde stars of the screen. Not too difficult he decided, and his eyes moved on to Harriet. The actress who’d played her in Dark Secret had now married and retired to live in seclusion with some Italian prince, which meant the part would have to be recast and that would be difficult. Blatant sexuality was easy to play, the almost hidden enigmatic sexuality of Harriet was far harder to define and even more difficult to portray.

  Edmund would be relatively easy. Well-spoken Brits were all the
rage in Hollywood at the moment, and he could think of two straight off who would manage the part very well. They wouldn’t mind the fact that the film’s content would be so powerfully sexual because of the ‘artistic’ praise lavished on Dark Secret. An art film was always acceptable, he thought wryly.

  His gaze lingered on Harriet who was listening to something Noella was saying and laughing with delight, her lips parted and her cheeks tinged with pink. He could so easily picture her naked, mentally strip her of her clothes and imagine her body beneath his, her head turning from side to side as her passion mounted. The vision was so real that he felt himself harden and quickly turned away from them all to stare out over the acres of garden.

  Noella had finished talking now and, as Edmund began to tell a story to Harriet, she looked over to where Lewis was standing. Noella had always found his tall, dark good looks incredibly sexy, and could never look at his golden brown hands without wondering what they’d feel like on her body. She knew that she was of little interest to him. It was a pity because she felt sure they’d go well together, but desire was something you couldn’t force, it was either there or it wasn’t, and she would have bet all the money she had on the fact that as far as she was concerned, Lewis felt no desire at all.

  But with regard to Harriet it was clearly a very different story. Noella remembered the way Lewis had behaved when he’d been married to Rowena, and it wasn’t at all the way he was behaving around Harriet. Then, despite the fact that he was married to an international sex symbol, he’d seemed distant and detached. He’d been a challenge to almost every woman he met, but always remote. With Harriet he made his feelings plain. He was forever touching her or making eye contact. She thought that for the first time ever he felt a sense of antagonism towards Edmund, although she couldn’t imagine why, since it was highly unlikely that even Edmund would initiate an affair with the new wife of America’s hottest film director, especially when he was putting up the money for Lewis’s next project and hoping to make a fortune from it.

  In any case, it was Lewis who’d suggested they all spend the holiday together which, now that she’d seen him with Harriet, was very strange indeed. Honeymoons were meant for two people, not four, even when the bride and groom had been living together for over two years prior to the wedding. She wondered exactly what was going on.

  ‘Aren’t you having any tea?’ Harriet asked Lewis, suddenly aware that he wasn’t taking part in the general chatter.

  ‘Sure, pour me a cup, will you? I’m just looking at the view,’ he said distantly.

  Harriet placed a cup for him on the table by her chair and a few minutes later he came and sat at her feet. Without thinking, she let one hand drop onto his head and, very slowly, lightly massaged his scalp with her fingers. With a sigh of contentment, Lewis let his head fall back against her knees and his left hand caress her ankle, the fingers encircling the bones in a soft rhythmic movement.

  Noella smiled to herself and glanced at Edmund. To her surprise, he was staring at the newlyweds with a look of sexual hunger on his face. When he realised that she was looking at him, he turned to her and his face became expressionless again, but for that one brief moment she’d seen naked desire in his eyes and fear touched her.

  ‘How about taking that bath we talked about earlier?’ she suggested brightly.

  ‘You go first,’ said Edmund with a polite smile. ‘I can wait a while. I’d rather like to eat another scone before I move off this sofa.’

  ‘I can wait,’ replied Noella.

  ‘No, you go ahead,’ insisted Edmund. ‘I know how badly you feel the cold.’

  ‘Hey, we were going to bath together, remember?’ said Noella angrily.

  Harriet’s hand stopped moving over Lewis’s scalp and she looked at Noella and Edmund in surprise. Lewis simply laughed and continued stroking his wife’s ankle.

  Edmund shrugged at Harriet’s expression. ‘What can I say? Noella’s a very impatient woman!’

  ‘And a lucky one!’ laughed Harriet, anxious to dispel any momentary awkwardness.

  As soon as she’d spoken, Lewis’s hand stilled and he too looked across at Edmund, waiting to hear his friend’s reply.

  ‘I don’t think I can really answer that,’ said Edmund in an amused tone of voice. ‘If I say yes it sounds like boasting and if I say no then—’

  ‘Harriet will lose interest!’ interrupted Lewis.

  Harriet laughed, but Noella didn’t. ‘Come on, Eddie,’ she said, trying to disguise her irritation.

  Edmund’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Don’t call me that, Noella, you know I hate it,’ he said sharply.

  ‘Yeah, well, I hate being kept waiting, you know that, too.’ With a sigh Edmund got up from the sofa and followed his wife from the room.

  Alone together, Harriet continued to caress her husband’s head and neck, but although Lewis stroked her leg and even let his hand wander up inside her skirt to the soft flesh of her inner thigh, there was a warning bell sounding inside his head. He’d imagined that Edmund and Noella had a sound marriage. If he’d been wrong then he might very well have set up a far more dangerous scenario than he’d intended.

  Chapter Two

  * * *

  LEWIS SAT AT the head of the table in the dining room that evening and wished that he wasn’t always viewing life through the lens of a camera. No matter how many times he told himself that he’d take part in a social gathering rather than view it as an outsider, he ended up simply watching it, and tonight was no exception.

  He decided that Harriet’s 40s-style dress with its fitted waist, capped sleeves and padded shoulders, would have to go for the film. The colour was fine, primrose-yellow with grey dots, and the detailed lacing down the front was extremely sexy, but the long flared panels of the skirt would need to be shortened and thin shoulder straps would replace the padded coat-hanger look.

  As for Noella, her brilliant scarlet silk jacket worn over a floral printed skirt and tunic top, both patterned with huge red roses, was too overwhelming for close-ups. It was fine seen from a distance, and it suited her, but the outfit would have to be more restrained if it was to work effectively on the large screen. He was trying to work out what colour he’d use instead when Harriet spoke.

  ‘Is there something wrong, Lewis?’ she asked mildly.

  He blinked and tried to clear his thoughts. ‘Wrong?’

  ‘You keep staring at us, first Noella and then me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I was miles away,’ he said with one of his quick stomach-turning smiles. Noella immediately forgave him; in any case, she was used to Edmund drifting off into his own world at meal times, but Harriet was less easily appeased. She guessed what Lewis was doing, and the fact that he was doing it on the first night of their honeymoon was infuriating.

  Deciding to pay him back she turned and smiled at Edmund. ‘Isn’t the room lovely?’ she said softly. ‘It’s so relaxing.’

  Edmund, who had been pricing the cost of the dark carved-oak chairs and table along with the bright yellow and blue curtains suspended from a sturdy wooden pole by heavy oak rings, nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose it is. It’s certainly a peaceful place here. We could be the survivors of some nuclear war for all the signs of other human habitation. Actually I was admiring the collection of china over there. They must have set Oliver back a few pence.’

  ‘Who’s Oliver?’ enquired Harriet.

  Edmund glanced across the table at his wife. ‘Perhaps you should really ask Noella. She paid him more attention than I did.’

  ‘Oliver Kesby is our landlord,’ said Noella shortly. ‘Edmund mentioned him earlier, don’t you remember?’

  ‘Sorry, I must have been thinking about something else at the time,’ admitted Harriet.

  ‘That’s because you haven’t seen him,’ said Edmund with a half-smile. ‘He’s what Noella always calls “a hunk”.’

  ‘He’s just a nice looking young man,’ retorted Noella, who had been in a less than cheerful mood eve
r since coming down to dinner. Harriet assumed that her bath-time had turned out to be less enjoyable than she’d anticipated.

  ‘I must keep my eye out for him then,’ Harriet said brightly.

  ‘I’m sure you won’t have any need of Oliver Kesby,’ said Edmund, turning to look directly into Harriet’s eyes. ‘As I remember, Lewis has the reputation of keeping his women more than satisfied – until he tires of them, that is!’

  ‘I can’t imagine who told you that,’ said Lewis, suddenly very alert with all thought of film direction banished from his mind.

  ‘I have my spies.’ Edmund sounded amused, as though he knew that he’d annoyed Lewis.

  ‘I’m sure I won’t need him,’ agreed Harriet, ‘but there’s no harm in keeping something in reserve. After all, Lewis intends to work for some of the time. When he’s working I might want to play!’

  ‘If you need someone to play with, promise you’ll tell me before you start involving Oliver?’ queried Edmund, putting a hand on Harriet’s bare arm.

  She smiled at him. ‘I don’t honestly think it’s very likely, but yes, I promise.’

  Lewis, who had leant forward to hear the words, was distracted at the last moment by Mrs Webster placing a huge bowl of lasagne in front of him, so he missed what was said and instead simply saw the picture of fleeting intimacy as Edmund’s hand touched his wife’s arm and her smiling directly at him, her eyes shining with either amusement or admiration.

  ‘That looks great,’ enthused Noella.

  Mrs Webster smiled. ‘One of my specials. I’m famous for my lasagnes, and my shepherds’ pies, as Mr Kesby can vouch for only too well. Now, I’ll fetch the green salad and then leave you all to help yourselves. There are desserts in the kitchen on the worktop. I usually leave about now, if that’s all right with you, sir?’ she added, looking at Lewis.

  He nodded, his mind miles away. ‘Of course, anything you like,’ he murmured.

  ‘You shouldn’t say that,’ Noella told him, once Mrs Webster had left the room. ‘Next thing you know she’ll be going off home in the middle of the afternoon.’