Their Scandalous Affair

by Catherine George

  Tears hung on her lashes as she gazed up at him. ‘But what happens when the time comes for you to hand on the Mercom baton?’

  ‘No problem. I don’t have a nephew, like Charlie, but I’ve got a couple of young cousins only too ready to snatch the baton from me any time I want to hand it over—if not before.’ Jonas released her, and then pushed her sweater aside on her shoulder, his eyes remorseful when he saw the marks his fingers had made on her skin. ‘I’m sorry, darling.’ He laid his lips to the faint bruises and looked up, his eyes darkening as they met hers. ‘In the interests of this temperance you wanted,’ he whispered, ‘I haven’t even kissed you yet.’

  She raised her face to his in prompt invitation, and Jonas took her in his arms. But instead of crushing his mouth to hers he held her tightly, rubbing his cheek against hers. ‘Happy New Year, Avery. And this time I mean it.’

  ‘Happy New Year, Jonas.’ She tipped her head back to smile at him. ‘I really believe it will be now.’

  He kissed her at last with a tenderness which soothed away all the anguish of the past few days. ‘Let’s make a deal. In future all quarrels, fights and disagreements must be followed by immediate reconciliation.’

  ‘You were the one who walked away.’

  ‘Are you ever going to let me forget that?’

  ‘Probably not. I’ll keep reminding you until you’re old and grey!’

  ‘Promise to stay with me that long, darling, and you can remind me as much as you like.’

  Avery held out her hand. ‘In that case, it’s a deal.’

  Jonas shook her hand solemnly. ‘Deal.’

  It was a very different day from any spent at the Barn together before. Jonas, Avery soon realised, had taken her plea for temperance to heart. They talked, read the papers, put some music on while they did the crossword, and although he gave her a fleeting kiss in passing now and again, as they put dinner together, they watched television afterwards from one of the sofas in the living room instead of the bed upstairs.

  In some ways Avery was glad, in others she felt unexpected pique over Jonas’s restraint, and in the end, with a view to bringing matters to a head, asked him if he had a spare toothbrush.

  ‘Ready for bed?’ he asked, jumping to his feet.

  She nodded matter-of-factly. ‘I haven’t had much sleep lately.’

  ‘You’d better give me a few minutes to change the sheets.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘I wasn’t expecting company.’

  ‘We’ll do it together.’

  The ordinary domesticity of stripping the bed and wrestling the duvet into a clean cover eased the tension which had been mounting between them during the evening as bedtime approached. Jonas dumped the used linen in the bathroom hamper, but couldn’t find a spare toothbrush on the shelves—something Avery could have told him and spared him the search.

  ‘If you don’t mind sharing I’ll use yours,’ she said briskly.

  He gave her a graceful bow. ‘I’ll be honoured. You can even use it first. Am I a gentleman, or what? What else does madam require?’

  Avery ticked off her fingers. ‘Your towelling robe, so I can have a shower, and a T-shirt and some boxers, please.’

  ‘Coming right up. Any colour preference?’

  ‘You choose.’

  Jonas went into the dressing room and came back with a white T-shirt, navy boxers, and a crimson towelling robe he removed from its polythene bag before handing it to Avery. ‘Christmas present from my mother,’ he informed her.

  ‘How sumptuous,’ she said, smoothing the pile, and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  Jonas caught her by the elbows to pull her up on her toes, gave her a kiss that left them both breathless, and then tapped her on the seat of her jeans. ‘Off you go,’ he said gruffly.

  In future, decided Avery, as she did some quick hand washing before her shower, she would travel everywhere with a change of underwear and a clean shirt. Glad she’d chosen to wear the fetching navy lace set Frances had given her for Christmas, she rolled her laundry in a towel, draped it on the radiator, and then, careful not to wet her hair, lathered herself in the shower with some of Jonas’s gel.

  She dried herself roughly and wrapped herself in the crimson robe. Decision time, she thought, eyeing the boxers and T-shirt. She could put them on and look ludicrous, and maybe send out entirely the wrong signal to Jonas, or she could just stick to the robe, which looked a great deal more alluring and hopefully gave out exactly the right signal. No contest, then.

  She slapped on some moisturiser from the small bag of cosmetics which, unlike spare underwear, travelled everywhere with her, then brushed hair that had turned riotous from the steam. She went into the other room to find Jonas lying on the bed, watching a late-night newscast. He turned quickly, and gave her a look which stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Lady in red,’ he said huskily. ‘That looks a lot better on you than it ever will on me. How about the other things— do they swamp you?’

  ‘I haven’t tried them yet. I thought you might want a shower.’

  Jonas slid to his feet. ‘Which kind do you recommend? Hot or cold?’

  Avery smiled slowly. ‘Oh, hot. Definitely hot. It’s no weather for cold showers. Don’t be long,’ she added, to make sure he got the message.

  ‘Five minutes!’

  When Jonas reappeared in less than four, with a towel knotted round his lean hips, the crimson robe was on a chair, the television was switched off and Avery lay in bed with the covers up to her chin.

  ‘That was quick,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘What did you expect?’ He threw the towel on the floor and slid into bed, pulling her naked body against his. ‘I hope you expected this,’ he said against her mouth, and slid his hands under her bottom to pull her closer. ‘A man can’t hide his basic needs.’

  ‘Neither can a woman, if a man knows where to look,’ she said, and blushed to the roots of her hair at the look he gave her.

  ‘God, I want you so much!’ He crushed his mouth to hers as his invading fingers showed he knew exactly where to look. He found the little engorged bud waiting for him, caressing it with such tormenting expertise Avery gave a husky little moan which cost Jonas his control. He surged between the long, slender thighs which locked round his hips so fiercely that their mating was savagely short, but so blissfully sweet they lay together afterwards, unwilling to separate in the heady relief of reconciliation.

  But at last Jonas turned on his side, smoothing Avery’s head against his shoulder, and she relaxed against him with a sigh, her last conscious thought one of thanksgiving that they were together again.

  Next morning Jonas woke Avery up with the demand that she stay at the Barn with him until the last possible minute the following morning, and she blinked at him sleepily, nodding in agreement.

  ‘I’ll have to take off at crack of dawn, but you don’t have to,’ he told her.

  She shook her head. ‘When you go, I go.’

  He held her close, rubbing his cheek over her wildly untidy hair. ‘I wish you were coming with me to London.’

  ‘I am coming—in a fortnight’s time,’ she reminded him. ‘I’ll travel down on the Saturday night—’

  ‘And stay until Monday morning?’

  Avery looked up into his intent eyes. ‘I’d thought to come back on the Sunday evening, but I suppose an early train the next day is a possibility.’

  ‘It would give us another night together. Make that definite and I’ll take you somewhere special for lunch today.’

  ‘I don’t have the clothes for “special”,’ she protested.

  ‘You don’t need clothes to look special,’ he said, in a tone which brought colour to her face. ‘In fact,’ he said, kissing her hungrily, ‘I like you best the way you are right now.’

  Avery kissed him back, and, since she was lying naked in his arms at the time, Jonas took the kiss as encouragement, and began to make love to her with all the skill and finesse he’d been incapa
ble of in the desperate frenzy of the night before. Afterwards, shaken by the intensity of the feelings they’d roused in each other, they stared into each other’s dazed eyes as their heartbeats slowed.

  ‘I love you, Avery,’ said Jonas at last, in a tone she’d never heard before.

  ‘I love you, too, Jonas,’ she said unsteadily, and buried her face against his shoulder.

  The ‘somewhere special’ was a small, unpretentious pub deep in the Marches. Jonas had to duck to miss the overhead beams when they left the bar for the small, crowded dining room, where they were shown to a table in the window embrasure.

  ‘This is a very attractive place,’ said Avery, looking round with pleasure.

  ‘I came here first with Charlie and Hetty. It’s pretty popular with those in the know. I was lucky to get a table. You’ll see why when you taste the food!’

  ‘I hope I will soon. I’m starving.’

  ‘You should have had some breakfast.’

  ‘It was so late by the time we got up there was no point,’ she said, smiling at him, and saw his eyes darken.

  ‘In certain circumstances,’ he said softly, ‘I’m happy to forgo breakfast every time.’

  There was no more conversation between them once their meal arrived, other than sounds of appreciation as they ate shanks of lamb braised to gluey perfection in red wine and served on a bed of perfect vegetables.

  ‘That was delectable,’ Jonas told the girl who removed their plates. ‘Please pass on the message.’ He frowned as he saw the look on Avery’s face. ‘What’s wrong, darling?’

  ‘I can’t believe this.’ She turned her head away to look out of the window. ‘Paul Morrell just came in.’

  ‘Do you want to leave right now?’ asked Jonas quietly.

  ‘Would you mind? Let’s have coffee in front of those pebbles of yours.’

  Since the only way out led past Paul Morrell’s table, he was on his feet by the time they reached it.

  ‘Hello, Paul,’ Avery said, resigned.

  ‘Hello, there,’ he said, his smile bright but his eyes cold as they fastened on Jonas. ‘Fancy meeting you two here. I read about this place in the press last week. Obviously you did, too.’

  Jonas shook his head. ‘Friends brought me here some time ago—before it achieved fame.’

  ‘Since Paul’s forgotten to introduce me, I’ll do it myself,’ said the woman with him. ‘Annette Hughes. I work for Paul’s father. Nice to see you, Avery.’

  ‘You too, Annette,’ said Avery serenely. ‘This is Jonas Mercer—the man responsible for our new cinema.’

  ‘I read about it in the local rag. Nice work,’ said Annette with approval. ‘When does construction start?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Jonas informed her, and looked round as a waitress approached with a laden tray. ‘We’re in the way. If you’ll excuse us, we must get back.’

  ‘To town?’ said Paul.

  ‘Not today,’ said Avery coolly. ‘We’re celebrating the New Year break at Jonas’s weekend place on the Eardismont estate.’ She smiled warmly at Annette and strolled from the room, with Jonas close behind her.

  Avery went outside to the car while Jonas paid the bill, glad of the cool air on her face.

  ‘Way to go, Tiger,’ said Jonas as he joined her. ‘That was fighting talk back there.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  Jonas took her in his arms and kissed her in full view of anyone who might be looking, then opened the car door for her. ‘No, my darling, I don’t mind at all. But Morrell minds like hell. I suppose you know that he’s still hopelessly in love with you?’

  ‘Hopeless is the right word.’ Avery settled back in her seat as Jonas drove off. ‘I’ve contacted him only once since we broke up, to ask who’d taken over the lease of my business. That was the day I spat fire at you when you came to take me out to dinner.’

  ‘So it was his fault,’ said Jonas grimly.

  ‘To be fair, it was mine,’ said Avery. ‘I bawled you out before you gave me the facts.’ She laid her hand on his knee. ‘Sorry, darling.’

  He covered her hand with his for a moment. ‘You call me darling for the first time when I’m driving, I notice, when I can’t show my appreciation.’

  ‘You showed quite a lot of appreciation just now outside the pub,’ she reminded him, smiling. ‘Do you think Paul was watching?’

  ‘I don’t give a damn whether he was watching or not. After hearing that little declaration of yours I just needed to kiss you. In case you’re interested, I still do,’ he added with a sidelong glance.

  ‘I am. Deeply interested,’ she informed him, and stroked his thigh again, delighted when his muscles tautened under his touch.

  ‘If you do that again I won’t answer for the consequences,’ he said through his teeth.

  ‘Then I’ll leave it until we get home.’

  ‘I’ll keep you to that!’

  For the rest of their time at the Barn they restricted their outings to a trip to the village to buy milk, bread and the daily paper, and made a meal from the supplies Jonas had brought with him.

  ‘I wish I could crystallise every minute and put it aside to look at later when we’re apart,’ said Avery at one point.

  ‘If you came to live with me in London we wouldn’t have to be apart at all, other than during my working day,’ he reminded her.

  It was a prospect that began to monopolise Avery’s thoughts when she had a moment to herself, which was usually in the bathroom. Jonas was reluctant to let her out of his sight otherwise, but Avery made no protest, equally unwilling to be parted from him for a second longer than was necessary.

  And that night they made love with a feverish intensity, as though the coming parting added a new dimension to their need for one another.

  They were up cruelly early in the morning, and when Jonas was ready to leave, dressed in formal City suit, he turned to Avery.

  ‘How do I look?’ he asked.

  ‘Impressive; every inch the Chief Executive,’ she assured him, and cleared her throat. ‘I won’t come out to the car. I’ll say goodbye in here.’

  Jonas took her in his arms. ‘I’ll be there at the station to meet you on Saturday week. Make sure you don’t miss the train.’

  ‘I won’t.’ She held her face up for his kiss. ‘Drive safely.’

  ‘I’ll ring you tonight,’ he promised, and kissed her again. They held each other close for a moment, then Jonas picked up his suit bag and grip and went out to the car.

  Jonas turned to see Avery watching at the window and blew her a kiss. She returned the favour, then watched the car until it was lost to sight.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHEN Frances arrived at the shop a couple of hours later she took one look at Avery and let out a huge sigh of relief. ‘You’ve made it up.’

  Avery nodded happily. ‘Jonas was at the Barn. He’d spent New Year’s Eve alone and miserable, too. He says he’d rather have childless me than fruitful someone else, so in the end I stopped arguing.’

  ‘Excellent news. When Helen and Louise get back can we stop trying to fob them off with tales of wonder vitamins and confirm the real reason for your glow?’

  ‘Why not? From now on the whole town can know.’

  Frances chuckled. ‘After Jonas’s appearance at the dance no one will be surprised.’ She looked up suddenly. ‘What’s that noise?’

  Avery went to the door and looked out, and saw Nadine from the florist at the end of the street. ‘What’s going on?’ she called.

  Nadine raised a triumphant thumb. ‘The Mercom bulldozers have arrived, Avery. We’ll have our cinema soon!’

  High hoardings soon enclosed the site, and other than some unavoidable noise there was little effect on the daily commercial life in Stow Street—apart from a big increase in custom for the café, which fed the construction workers from day one. And for Avery it meant a possessive little thrill every time she saw the big Mercom signs on the hoardings on her way to and from the car park.
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br />   ‘I wish I had time to check on progress myself,’ said Jonas, when she confided this during one of their late-night telephone conversations.

  ‘Is it tough at the top?’ she asked with sympathy.

  ‘Damn right it is. I respect my father more with every passing hour when I realise how much he packed in to a day. But I’ll make sure nothing interferes with our weekend together, darling. So don’t miss that train!’

  When Frances heard Avery intended leaving on a late-afternoon train for her trip to London she insisted on coming in for that afternoon to let Avery leave earlier. Making a vow to buy Frances the best wedding present she could find, Avery accepted the offer gladly, delighted to be able to spring a surprise on Jonas for a change. But before that happy day, she thought with a sigh, there was a weekend in Gresham Road to get through, plus the following interminable week.

  Sunday was fine, and so mild for January that Avery decided to kill time by planting the camellia Dan Morrell had given her. In sweatshirt, jogging pants and rubber boots she unlocked the shed, pulled on heavy-duty gloves and loaded tools and half a sack of compost on the wheelbarrow. She pushed it to a vacant spot along the back hedge and began digging. When the hole was big enough she lined it with compost and went back up to the house to fill the watering can, but as she switched off the outside tap a man appeared round the corner of the house. In contrast to her muddy, dishevelled person, her unwanted visitor was a vision straight from the pages of GQ.

  ‘Hello, Avery,’ said Paul Morrell, biting back a grin at the sight of her. ‘Busy?’

  ‘Obviously,’ she retorted. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Just a chat. Can I come in?’

  ‘The answer’s still no. You never give up, do you?’

  He scowled. ‘If you won’t let me in the house at least talk to me while you carry on with your gardening.’

  Avery shrugged, and took the watering can back down the garden.

  Paul followed her to the hole, wincing as his shoes squelched in wet grass, and stood with arms folded, watching as Avery took the camellia from its pot. She planted it carefully and watered it in, then mulched it with more compost before giving Paul her attention.