Instead of the inglenook fireplace of her imagining there was a square aperture on the far wall, with man-made flames dancing on a heap of pebbles, and slatted white cupboards in alcoves either side of it. A stone relief had been fixed to the wall above the fire, carved with cavalrymen from ancient Greece, but otherwise there wasn’t a picture in sight.
Avery turned to Jonas in amazement. ‘Is this your taste, or did you get an interior designer?’
‘All my own work,’ he assured her, and led her up a spiral staircase to a vast bedroom with a raftered ceiling. But instead of a four-poster Jonas’s bed was modern and big, flanked by side-tables with lamps, and facing a television on the far wall.
‘Those doors over there lead to a dressing room and a bathroom, but there’s only one bed.’ He put her grip down, his eyes holding hers. ‘If you don’t fancy sharing I can take one of the sofas.’
‘Do you snore?’
‘I don’t know. Do you?’
‘I don’t know, either.’
They looked at each other in silence for a moment longer, then they were in each other’s arms, kissing with sudden, desperate craving, their hands clumsy in their haste to get each other naked. Jonas collapsed on the bed with Avery in his arms, rolling over to pin her down, his lips and tongue on her nipples in sucking caresses that made her so frantic her hand closed round him in a retaliating caress that put an abrupt end to foreplay. His mouth crushed hers and she clasped him with arms and legs as he thrust inside her, both of them overpowered by mutual need.
‘I lied,’ said Jonas a long time later.
Avery raised her head from his shoulder, her heavy eyes smiling into his. ‘About what?’
‘I said I wouldn’t rush you to bed the minute you got here.’
‘Am I complaining?’ She raised herself up on one elbow and shook her dishevelled curls away from her face. ‘Jonas, I’ve just thought of something.’
His eyes glittered between spiky lashes in the bright afternoon light. ‘What is it?’
‘You said something—quite some time ago, I might add—about lunch. But where’s your kitchen?’
‘Through a door under the staircase.’
‘I was too stunned by the decor to notice it.’
He stroked a caressing hand over the smooth skin of her shoulder. ‘My bits of antiquity need their space—like me.’ He grinned. ‘I’d suffer permanent concussion in one of those cottages in the village.’
An ominous rumble from Avery’s midriff won a kiss from Jonas before he began pulling on his clothes. ‘We need food.’
The galley-style kitchen was strictly functional, with just enough room for a table laid for lunch near a glass door leading into the garden.
‘You sit and I’ll get the meal—which is pretty basic,’ Jonas warned, and pulled a chair out for her.
Avery was happy to obey. She felt pleasantly languorous, content to watch as Jonas put a basket of bread and a platter of cheese on the table. He filled bowls with steaming soup from an insulated jug and sat down, smiling indulgently as she snatched a piece of bread.
‘I’m starving,’ she said defensively. ‘I was rather hoping for coffee when I arrived.’
‘I intended to make some, but the blood left my brain the moment I set eyes on you,’ he told her, and smiled into her eyes. ‘It feels very, very good to have you here in my house, Avery Crawford.’
‘It feels good to me, too.’ She returned the smile luminously, and he reached out a hand to touch hers.
‘You need to keep your strength up, so eat,’ he ordered. ‘I warn you now: I intend to make demands on your energy this weekend.’
Avery raised an eyebrow as she drank some soup. ‘Is a ten-mile hike on the programme?’
‘Nothing so strenuous,’ he assured her. ‘After lunch I suggest a brisk little walk to make the most of the weather, then tea in front of whatever sport we can find on television. Not in bed,’ he added, reading her mind. ‘There’s a television in one of the cupboards by the fire.’
After lunch Avery felt utterly happy as she walked in the crisp, cold sunshine with Jonas. While they skirted the lake they talked non-stop, catching up on any news left out of their telephone conversations. When they ventured further Jonas pointed out a large house, the roof just visible through the trees in the distance.
‘My landlord’s country seat,’ said Jonas. ‘He let me buy the barn, with the proviso that I could do what I like inside it, on the strict understanding that I leave the outside alone other than basic maintenance. Also that I sell back to him when I want to get rid of it.’
‘Will you do that some time?’
‘At the moment it’s unlikely. I’ve only just got the place in shape.’ Jonas shrugged and took her hand in his. ‘But I suppose I’ll have to part with it eventually. It’s no place for children.’
Avery looked up at him sharply, and he laughed.
‘No, I don’t have any little Mercers right now, but I want a family some time.’
She shivered as the setting sun dipped behind a cloud bank. ‘Right now I want that tea you mentioned. By the way, I forgot to ask about dinner. Do I cook it?’
Jonas shook his head, smiling triumphantly. ‘I did some shopping on the way. When I told my mother I was bringing a friend she reminded me that I couldn’t pick up a phone to order dinner out here in the wilds.’
‘Did she know the friend was a female?’ enquired Avery.
‘She didn’t ask, but I told her anyway. Other than pointed regular hints about grandchildren, she’s remarkably restrained about the women in my life—probably because I never take anyone home for her to inspect.’
‘Have there been many?’ Avery couldn’t help asking.
‘It depends on how you quantify “many”,’ he said, shrugging. ‘The actual number is irrelevant, anyway, because my emotions were never involved. Were yours?’
‘To a certain extent, yes,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘Morrell?’
She nodded. ‘And before him, when I first worked in the City, there was a man called Richard Manners. But that was short-lived,’ she added as Jonas went indoors ahead of her to switch on lamps.
‘You look cold, darling,’ he said as he took her jacket. ‘Sit in front of the fire and I’ll bring you some tea.’
Avery smiled her thanks and kicked off her shoes to curl up on one of the sofas, wishing Jonas hadn’t mentioned his love life, or asked questions about hers. Not that she would let it spoil this time with him, she thought fiercely.
‘That’s a pensive look,’ he commented as he nudged the winged lion aside to make room for the tray.
Avery swung her feet to the floor. ‘You were quick.’
‘Making tea is not much of a tax on my capabilities,’ he assured her, and offered a plate of biscuits.
‘I’ll just stick to tea,’ she said, smiling. ‘I ate too much lunch.’
‘Or was it my probing about past loves that killed your appetite?’ said Jonas, and handed her a tall mug of tea. ‘No sugar and a dash of milk.’
‘Perfect. Thank you.’
‘So, tell me about this Richard Manners,’ he said, sitting beside her.
Avery scowled. ‘Do I have to?’
‘No.’ He gave her a penetrating look. ‘But if he was a man worthy of your emotions, Avery, I’m curious about him.’
She drank some of her tea before answering. ‘I’d had boyfriends in college, of course, but I met Richard soon after I started work, and fell for him like a ton of bricks. He was a lot older than me, but good-looking, very clever, and great fun. He constantly told me he adored me, and because I was young and gullible I believed him. For an entire month I was in heaven. Then the wife he’d forgotten to mention came home from visiting her parents in New Zealand, so that was that. End of story. I had no use for a husband of my own, let alone someone else’s.’
Jonas picked up her hand and kissed it. ‘And then you met Morrell?’
‘Much later. After Richard
I steered clear of twosomes. I was much happier as part of a group of people who socialised together on a regular basis. But that finished when I met Paul. He refused to share me with anyone.’
‘Is that why you broke up?’
Avery turned quizzical eyes on his intent face. ‘You ask a lot of questions.’
‘How else will I get answers?’
‘Paul and I split up when I resigned my job to look after my mother. I insisted on a clean break.’
Jonas frowned. ‘Even though you were in love with him?’
She looked away. ‘My feelings had altered by that stage.’
He leaned back, stretching out his legs. ‘Is Morrell your reason for the no men rule since you left the City?’
Avery shrugged. ‘For the first year at home I was too busy to think about them. And after my mother died I dealt with grief by working all hours to make a success of the business. I had no interest in men, so the local variety soon lost interest in me.’
Jonas moved closer. ‘I was luckier than I knew when you accepted my invitation to dinner that night. Why did you?’
‘I liked you enough to bend my rules,’ she said simply, and looked him in the eye. ‘I still do.’
He kissed her hard by way of appreciation, then with a sigh drew away. ‘If I start making love to you again right now you’ll think that’s my sole reason for getting you here.’
‘I know perfectly well it’s not,’ she said, grinning. ‘You want me to cook dinner.’
By tacit agreement there was no further mention of the past. They ate a picnic meal in the main room while they watched mindless Saturday evening television, and an hour or so later he held out his hand.
‘Let’s do the rest of our viewing in bed.’
Avery followed him upstairs, wondering about the correct attire for watching television in bed. With Paul, bed had been just a place to sleep and make love. He was a restless soul who considered a night at home a waste of valuable time that could have been spent dining out, or in a theatre or some smart nightclub. They had gone to bed late but risen early, as their jobs had demanded, and, looking back on their relationship, one of several things which remained vivid for Avery was a constant feeling of fatigue.
Jonas switched on the television, and then solved her problem by drawing her down on the covers to lean with him against the pillows he’d stacked against the headboard. ‘Let’s be thoroughly lazy.’
Avery obeyed with a sigh of pleasure as Jonas aimed the remote control and found a televised concert which, since he was more disposed to talk than watch, was the ideal programme for the occasion.
‘What do you do when you come here alone?’ she asked at one stage.
‘As little as possible. But I don’t make it here very often. And never,’ he added, ‘with anyone for company before— unless you count an inspection visit from my parents and my landlord.’
Avery was fiercely pleased. She’d been wondering if another woman had lain here like this with Jonas, and was utterly taken aback by the violence of her objection to the idea. Jealousy was something new in her life. She shivered, and Jonas drew her closer and turned her face up to his.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said, in the tone that melted her bones.
Moments later they were under the covers, naked in each other’s arms, all further pretence at watching television abandoned.
‘Just lie there,’ he whispered, ‘and let me make love to every delectable inch of you.’
For a while Avery did her best to comply, but soon found it impossible to lie passive as his hands and mouth travelled over her, causing turbulence wherever they lingered. At last she became impatient, desperate to feel his weight on her body. She dug imperious fingers into his back and Jonas slid up to cover her, holding her hands wide.
‘A perfect fit. Even better now,’ he whispered, and slid home inside her.
They showered together, ate a midnight feast together, and made love again before they finally went to sleep.
It was very late next morning when Avery woke to the caress of seducing hands, and it was later still when they got downstairs. Jonas drove to the village while Avery grilled bacon and scrambled eggs for a late breakfast. They fell on it like wolves when he came back with the Sunday papers.
‘It must be the country air,’ she said, putting more bread in the toaster.
‘Not entirely,’ he said, grinning as she wrinkled her nose at him. ‘When can we do this again, darling? I mean the weekend, not the activity that’s making you eat like a horse. A very beautiful racehorse, with a gloriously sexy mane,’ he added, and touched a hand to her hair.
‘As compliments go, that’s certainly inventive,’ she commented, and put a slice of toast on his plate. ‘But the weekend is not always easy for me, Jonas. I can’t ask Frances to give up another Saturday for a while, especially now she’s seeing so much of Philip.’ She sat down and began buttering her own toast, then looked up to meet the eyes which could look so deceptively lazy.
‘So what do you suggest, Avery?’
‘I suggest,’ she repeated deliberately, ‘that we enjoy our day together and leave future plans for the future.’
‘I would enjoy the day a hell of a sight more if I knew it was to be repeated some day soon. Do you object to night driving?’ he asked abruptly.
‘No, of course not.’
‘Then the solution is simple. You drive here after you close your shop.’ Jonas reached to take her hand. ‘You could be here in time for dinner.’
Avery was well aware of that, but her pride had demanded the suggestion came from Jonas. ‘I could,’ she conceded. ‘But it might be late before I get here.’
‘If you were tired we could always go straight to bed,’ he said promptly, and grinned. ‘Don’t worry—I’d let you have dinner first.’
‘If I come—’
‘When you come!’
‘All right, when I come I’ll bring dinner with me.’
‘And we’ll have Sunday lunch in one of the local pubs.’ He pressed her hand to his lips. ‘But not today. I want you all to myself.’
Avery’s eyes dropped, in case his bright, penetrating gaze saw too much. ‘It’s too late to go out for lunch anyway,’ she muttered, ungracious in her need to hide her response.
Outside it was a wet, miserable day that made walking out of the question. But inside the day was perfect to Avery, and they sat together on the sofa that faced the fire and took turns with the various sections of the Sunday paper strewn around them.
Jonas smiled as he showed Avery a shot of a famous model with her equally photogenic toddler. ‘Cute little moppet,’ he commented.
‘Cute mummy, too.’ She returned to the book reviews.
‘Children not your thing, Avery?’ he asked.
‘I’m not the maternal type.’
‘You don’t want children of your own, then?’
Avery shot him a sidelong glance. ‘As I’ve said before, Mr Mercer, you ask a lot of questions.’
He looked at her for a moment, then dropped a kiss on her nose and returned to his paper.
For the rest of the day they lazed about doing nothing at all other than make a meal from the remains of the hamper and tackle the weekend crossword—an activity Jonas found so tiring he took Avery off to bed.
‘I thought—you wanted—a rest,’ she panted as he kissed the parts of her he was laying bare.
‘I want you,’ was the terse response. ‘Do you want me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, equally terse, and abandoned herself to Jonas Mercer’s idea of an afternoon nap.
Monday had never been Avery’s favourite day, and after the idyll of her weekend with Jonas she would have given much to crawl into bed and catch up on her sleep when she arrived back in Gresham Road.
Instead it was a plunge straight into the working week. The run-up to the festive season meant a demand for new partywear, or alterations and repairs to last year’s, and Avery was glad of it—and not just from a financ
ial point of view. Plenty of work meant less time for bemoaning the long wait before she saw Jonas again.
The following Saturday he would be involved in a function which required his presence as deputy head of Mercom, and the weekend after that Avery had to put in an appearance at a charity dance for the children’s wing at the local hospital.
‘A relationship with you, Miss Crawford, is damned hard work,’ he’d told her bitterly.
‘Likewise, Mr Mercer,’ she’d retorted, her voice tart to hide her disappointment.
Knowing that the best part of three weeks would elapse before they met again, Jonas had kissed Avery goodbye in the dawn of Monday morning with a hunger that in other circumstances would have taken them straight upstairs to bed again. Instead he’d carried her bag to her car, kissed her again at length, and watched her out of sight before he got into his own car to drive to London.
Avery found it difficult to fit back into the comfortable groove that had been her life before Jonas Mercer appeared on the scene. She attended Chamber of Trade meetings, went to concerts and attended plays put on in the small theatre by the local repertory company, but the real highlights of her week were the phone calls from Jonas.
The only person aware of this was Frances—who, as promised, kept the information strictly to herself.
‘But to anyone with half an eye to see there’s a glow about you these days, Avery,’ she said, as they finished for the day. ‘I told the others you were on a new course of vitamins.’
Avery laughed. ‘Tell me about it! Louise asked what they were and where she could buy them. Luckily I’d noticed that the supermarket had a new line of multivitamins on offer this week.’
‘Would it be so terrible, Avery, if people knew you were seeing Jonas Mercer?’ asked Frances gently. ‘You’ve had love affairs before.’
‘But in anonymous London, not here.’
The location of her affairs had made no difference to her misery when they had ended, but because Avery had kept her social life private from the men she’d worked with in the City it had remained private. Here in the town where she was born it would be different. The interest would be intense if word got out that Avery Crawford was involved with someone as high-profile as Jonas Mercer; even more so when the affair ended. As it would, sooner or later.
Their Scandalous Affair Page 8