‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘To a special place.’
The foliage was scented with some spicy flowering plant. As he had predicted, there were wild mangoes and bananas growing on the island. The ripe fruit hung like jewels over the path. Anton pulled branches down so she could pick some of the fruit, which smelled sweet and delicious in her arms.
‘We’ll take some of these, too,’ he said, picking fragrant white and crimson flowers from a vine. As they went on, he held her hand, guiding her over the smooth boulders, holding aside branches that occasionally blocked the way.
At the end of the path was their destination—a small, ancient pagoda that stood half-overgrown among rambutan trees.
‘Oh, Anton,’ she whispered, ‘how lovely!’
‘It’s a Buddhist shrine,’ he said. ‘It must be hundreds of years old. It’s been almost forgotten—hardly anybody remembers that it’s here any more.’
They walked into the temple. The cool interior was decorated with ornate sculptures, the paintings on the walls faded but still discernible. At the back was a stone statue of the Buddha, his serene face smiling.
They stood in front of it together. The floor of the temple was littered with white sand and dried flower blossoms. The domed shape of the ancient structure seemed to capture and amplify the distant murmur of the sea. A deep peace sank into Amy’s heart. This was a holy place, whatever one’s religion might be.
They laid the offering of fruit and flowers at the statue’s feet, then stood there, hands entwined. At that moment, Amy felt that nothing could ever touch their happiness. It was as though they had undergone some sacred ceremony that had bound them together for ever, protecting them from all harm.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll never forget it.’
They walked back in silence. In the shade of their hibiscus grove, they lay down in one another’s arms again.
‘Today, our lives start afresh,’ he whispered.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly.
‘You’ve made me so happy today, Amy. I’ve wanted you ever since you walked into my life, that morning at Kai Tak. I think I felt it even before I saw you, because I should have left for Borneo the day before. But something kept me there, waiting for you. Something told me that I had to meet you. And from the moment I saw your face, I loved you. I didn’t think it would happen like this—spontaneously, on a beach in Vietnam. In fact, I didn’t really know how it would happen. But I always knew that we would be lovers, and belong to each other completely.’
She looked into the depths of his eyes. ‘Anton, forgive me for not trusting you. Things have happened to me that hurt me badly—and—and made it hard for me to give myself. But I have loved you for such a long time!’
His warm fingers cupped her chin and lifted her face so he could kiss her soft mouth. ‘My golden girl,’ he whispered, ‘whatever has hurt you, I will take it away.’
Her eyes closed languidly as he kissed her lips. His mouth was like velvet, so tender and yet so commanding. His arms were so strong as they drew her close to him. No man had ever affected her like this. No man ever would. She whimpered, clinging to his powerful shoulders as their kiss deepened into searing passion. It was as though everything else in the world had disappeared, and nothing was real any more except their two beating hearts.
Kissing her sweetly on the eyelids and mouth, he was slow and gentle this time. He was in complete, masterful control. The muscles rippled unhurriedly beneath his tanned skin. He looked down at her. His eyes seemed to darken with hunger. ‘You are so beautiful,’ he whispered. ‘Your breasts, the swell of your hips…so perfect. I’ve never touched anything as fine as your skin.’
She shuddered, her back arching, as he caressed her, lovingly, expertly. When he kissed her lips again, her mouth opened under the pressure of his tongue. The maelstrom of passion that she knew so well was sucking her down. She clung to his neck as though she had found herself in a real whirlpool, as though there were real danger that she might be engulfed for ever.
When his fingers found the tender moistness between her thighs, they brought a pleasure that made her senses swim.
He slid down, his mouth seeking her. An attempt at modesty made her try to resist, but her own body betrayed her. Her thighs parted to open herself to him, and her hips rose so that he could claim her secret places with his mouth.
His kiss was gentle at first. But she heard him moan with satisfaction as he tasted her, his tongue sinful and hungry. Amy gasped with pleasure, then could not stop herself from moaning aloud as his strong arms slipped around her hips and pulled her to him.
Over the years she had wondered why it was she could find no man who could unlock her secrets, not even Martin; she had wondered whether she was cold, unresponsive. Unresponsive! The way her body and soul felt right now, she knew that she was every inch a woman. It had simply taken the right man to open up her feelings.
Anton’s mouth was hungry and hot, and he seemed to want to devour her, just as much as she ached to be devoured. How heavenly it was to be consumed like this, to be wanted like this! Her fingers threaded through his crisp, dark hair, her heels caressing the strong muscles of his back. Pleasure peaked so intensely that she could not stop herself from sliding dizzily over the edge…and then she was in a world where she had never been, a world where music and colour and passion exploded into one overpowering emotion that was so great, the tears spontaneously flooded her eyes.
He held her until her shuddering faded into stillness, his mouth coaxing every last drop of pleasure from her body.
‘Anton,’ she whispered. ‘Please come to me…’
He obeyed her, gathering her slim body in his muscular arms, holding her so tight that she whimpered with pleasure. He murmured her name softly, tenderly, but spoke no other words. Locked in the passion of their embrace, Amy caressed his body, feeling the power of his man’s strength, yet aware of how sensitive his shuddering responses were.
His arousal was as rampant as it had been that morning. She caressed him gently with her fingertips. The velvety skin of his sex was hot, and his arching pleasure thrilled her. He kissed her with fierce passion, his hands cupping her hips, his desire pressing urgently between her thighs.
Amy rolled back and pulled him onto her. Her eyes searched his face intently, searching for the emotion in his eyes.
‘You are mine,’ he said, as though answering her unspoken question, ‘mine, mine. Only mine.’
He entered her body, but far more carefully than he had done the first time. This time he was slow, unhurried, allowing them both to savour the way their bodies united, his sliding deep into her, hers stretching to accommodate him.
When he was fully inside her, he kissed her eyelids and then her mouth. ‘I have never felt anything like this,’ he told her softly. He was cradling her shoulders in his arms, the dominant weight of his hips pressing hers back against the sand. ‘I’ll never let you go, Amy.’
Those words were exactly what she wanted to hear. He made love to her with exquisite tenderness and skill, controlling her responses, exciting her, until the pleasure was deep and overwhelmingly delicious. She whimpered his name, her mouth open against his, their kisses growing more abandoned as their lovemaking intensified.
Anton’s ragged breathing told her he was as ready as she was. She knew that they were going to the same place together, soon, very soon…
This time her climax was different, a searing sunburst that melted her body and dazzled her mind. Anton crushed her to him, his shuddering in perfect time with hers. Gasping, they clung to one another, their limbs twining until peace descended on them.
He smiled down at her, caressing her breasts and stomach tenderly.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he told her. ‘I want to drink you in with my soul. You are the centre of my universe. You are all I will ever want.’
Amy would always remember that day as the most beautiful of her life. And
the remainder of their stay in Vietnam, too, was like a wonderful dream. The lovely villa with the lily pond became their palace, their world. Warm, scented days blended into dark, thrilling nights.
When work called, and they travelled back to Vung Tao for consultations with the engineers, she was at his side, unable to take her eyes off him, this magnificent man who had chosen her, whose every waking thought seemed only to be to please her and fill her with delight. She was so proud of him, of the care he took of his world. She was living in paradise.
Though she was aware that paradise was only leased, that they would soon have to return to Hong Kong and the complexities of their future there, she gave herself up utterly to the moment, and to Anton, as though both were for ever.
They wandered around the charming city of Saigon together, visiting museums and temples, dreamily watching the fleets of bicycles or the groups of people, old and young, performing the stately callisthenics of t’ai chi in the public squares, under flowering trees.
They sat on the tranquil banks of the River Saigon, watching the endless and multifarious flow of traffic, from huge rice barges to tiny little skiffs, threading their way through one another’s wakes; and talked endlessly, as lovers did.
They dined at food stalls in the markets and in fancy restaurants. One memorable evening, he took her to the Ben Thanh Restaurant, one of the most famous in Asia, where they had the classic Vietnamese dish, cha gio, made from minced crab meat, pork, fragrant mushrooms and bean sprouts, wrapped in a thin rice pancake and then deep fried. The crisp little rolls were utterly delicious, eaten wrapped in a lettuce leaf and dipped in a variety of savoury sauces.
And then, their last night in Saigon was upon them.
‘I can’t believe we have to go back tomorrow,’ she whispered as they lay in bed together.
‘What difference will it make?’ he asked.
‘Things will change.’
‘They won’t, my darling.’
But she had a dark foreboding. ‘You have to be in London soon for the chairman’s report. Lavinia will be waiting. You’ll start to realise that even though you like me, she has so much more to offer. You’ll spend hours with her, just like in France and—’
‘Amy!’
‘People will be talking about me. The way they did about Marcie. They’ll be laughing behind my back, saying things—’
‘Hey.’ His caressing hand had been tracing erotic circles on her belly, moving ever lower to the dangerous regions where her reactions were starting to quiver hotly. ‘What’s got into you, my golden girl? I’ve never heard you talk like this!’
‘Oh, Anton, I’m so afraid!’
‘Afraid of what?’ he asked softly. His fingers expertly teased her, slipping liquidly across her most sensitive places until delicious pleasure swelled and grew between her thighs.
He seemed to know her every secret. There was no button he did not know how to push, no pleasure he did not completely understand. She had learned more about her body this week than in the previous twenty years. Anton understood her far, far better than she understood herself.
She could only cling to him as he brought her back into that enchanted kingdom of sensual delight, and then led her with utter assurance to another exquisite climax.
Partly because she could not help it, she sank her teeth into his shoulder as he prolonged her pleasure, almost past the point she could bear. She quivered and whimpered, and finally came to rest with her head on his broad chest, his hands gentling her.
‘What are you doing to me?’ she panted.
‘Don’t I make you happy?’
‘You take me to places I’ve never been in my life.’
‘You do the same to me.’
‘But you must have been with so many women. You’re so experienced, and I feel so clumsy.’
‘You are never clumsy,’ he said, crushing her in his arms. ‘You are my one true love.’
Amy awoke in the early dawn. There was a rosy tinge to the sky. She was cradled securely in the arms of her lover. He held her possessively, assuredly, even in sleep. She could hear his even breathing, feel his warm breath on her neck. Her skin smelled of their lovemaking. Her body had never felt like this before. Anton had made love to her so passionately, in so many ways, that it was as though he had dismantled her and then put her together again in a new shape.
She thought about their lovemaking with something bordering on disbelief. She’d had no idea that sex could be anything like this.
Sex. The word seemed so inadequate to cover what he had shown her this week. It was far more than the physical coupling she had always understood by the word. What he had done to her was show her what lay within her own soul. She was changed by it, altered for ever.
It had been a kind of divine madness, a hurricane that had swept through her life without warning. But where would it take her?
An ominous sinking in the pit of her stomach reminded her that within a few hours they had to fly back to Hong Kong.
She was suddenly afraid, very afraid. Her terrified mind was telling her that she was in desperate danger of seeing her dreams crash and burn. It was telling her to run as fast as she could, to fly for her life, before Anton destroyed her heart.
She tried to recapture the deep peace that had filled her in the pagoda on their island. But it eluded her obstinately. There was only anxiety.
Her tension must have wakened Anton. He kissed her face and throat softly, cupping her breasts with his palms. ‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered, as though he had sensed her terror in his sleep, ‘everything’s going to be all right.’
There was no need of words between them. He made love to her tenderly, their unhurried movements in complete harmony, until ecstasy and then peace settled around them.
She fell back asleep almost at once, her head cradled in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest so that she could hear nothing but the deep, steady beat of his heart.
Chapter Twelve
‘DO YOU like it?’
They had walked out onto the terrace of the house. Hong Kong was spread out below them. Anton was looking at her enquiringly.
‘It’s stunning,’ she said. ‘You’re not seriously thinking of buying it?’
‘I’ve always had my eye on it. It seemed providential when it came up for sale.’
‘Well, it’s the loveliest house I’ve seen. But you don’t need anything this big!’
The property, called Quilin House, was high on Victoria Peak. With enamelled dragons and other mythical beasts curvetting at the ends of the roof-beams, it was an airy, six-bedroom palace, with a vast balcony commanding a wonderful view of the harbour. It boasted a luxurious pool and parking for five cars in the basement. And it had a stunning natural setting. From the carefully tended garden you could walk straight into forests of bamboo, fern and wild hibiscus on the peak. As they stood on the balcony they were watching kites and hawks gliding on the thermals two thousand feet above the harbour.
She didn’t even want to know what they were asking for this property. In Hong Kong, the most cramped apartments commanded a premium.
‘Why do you think it’s too big?’ he asked, looking at her.
She smiled at him. ‘Six bedrooms? There’s only one of you, remember?’
He put his arm round her waist and drew her close. ‘There are two of us. And what if we have a dozen children?’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Then it will be too small!’
She kissed him, her heart fluttering. ‘I haven’t agreed to have any children, my lord and master. And you haven’t asked me if I want to move in with you!’
‘I’m asking you now.’
‘You are a crazy man. Why are there dragons on the roof-beams?’
‘It’s feng shui. They guard all four quarters of the house from harm.’
The real-estate agent came out, unfolding her brochure. ‘Quilin House has a long history, Mr and Mrs Zell,’ she said, beaming. ‘The property is unique. As you both know, luxury like th
is is rare in our city. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’
‘What was the price?’ Anton asked, watching the hawks wheel and glide.
Without batting an eyelid, the realtor named a figure in the high millions.
‘Will they take half a million less?’
‘They might do,’ the realtor said, her eyes gleaming.
‘Very good,’ Anton said, holding Amy’s hand and facing her. ‘We’ll get a written offer to you in an hour or so. We’ll be in London from tomorrow, so I would like an answer today, if possible. I’ll give you my number. You can contact me any time. I’ll be waiting.’
Amy turned away. She was suddenly remembering something Gerda had said to her in France:
I see now! You think that once they are married, he will install you as his mistress in some lacquered palace in Hong Kong!
At the time, the words had seemed more like a gratuitous insult than a real insight. But perhaps Gerda Meyer was a woman of the world, after all. Perhaps she understood things better than Amy ever could.
Was this not exactly the ‘lacquered palace’ Gerda had predicted? The most beautiful house in Hong Kong—but in reality nothing more than a golden cage for a kept bird?
After all, he was talking about living together, having children together—but he had not mentioned marriage.
A business wife in France and a pleasure wife in Hong Kong? Oh, yes, he is man enough for that.
And I know men like Anton Zell. They want it all—and they always get to have it all.
Empresses sometimes tolerate a concubine—or two.
Suddenly the magnificent house seemed like a prison to her, a place where all her hopes and joys would slowly die.
In Borneo he had told her clearly that he could never marry, that he had no space or time for women—’the sort of women who want a commitment from a man’. He had told her he was married to his work.
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