JULIA stretched luxuriously beneath the bedclothes. She could smell coffee and she could hear voices. One of them a familiar voice. Silas’s voice, she recognised, at virtually the same second as she realised why she was hearing it.
She opened her eyes and stared towards the now open double doors that led from the bedroom to the sitting room.
‘Are you awake yet, sleepyhead?’
Silas himself appeared in the doorway, his legs bare beneath the hem of the robe he was wearing. He was holding a cup of coffee. Her mouth started to water. Coffee. She could live quite happily on a combination of caffeine and the buzz she got from her shoe habit. And this morning she was going to indulge that habit, having spent all week being tormented with longing for those impossible-to-resist little darlings she had heard about the day she had arrived.
‘If you’re waiting to shower and get dressed, don’t let me stop you,’ she informed Silas pointedly.
‘I’d forgotten how grumpy you are when you wake up. Come and have a look at this view.’
And she’d forgotten how relentlessly and unnecessarily cheerful he was, Julia decided antagonistically.
‘Shouldn’t you put some clothes on?’ she suggested.
‘What for?’
What for? For her peace of mind, that was what! There was something seriously disturbing about having to cope with Silas wandering around in a bathrobe that was both too short and too small, so that it exposed a large amount of tanned, hair-roughened chest, in addition to somehow making it plain that those thighs it was just about covering were hugely powerful and very male. And surely he could have tied the belt a bit more securely, and put something on his feet. There was something distinctly sexual about a man’s bare feet. In fact there was something distinctly sexual about Silas this morning, full-stop.
That familiar frisson of sensation she was feeling right now, which she had always previously put down to healthy antagonism, had somehow astonishingly morphed into a staggeringly acute sexual awareness of him. Beneath the bedclothes her nipples peaked with delight, ready and willing to show him the effect he was having on them, whilst the tension gripping her lower body made her wonder hollowly if she was on the point of losing her sanity.
How could she be lusting after Silas? She knew it had been a long time since she had last had sex, and it was true that she couldn’t even remember the last time she had woken up to find a semi-naked man wandering around, but this semi-naked man was Silas, for heaven’s sake. Silas, who had laughed out loud the first time he had seen her dressed up to go out on a date. Silas, who had threatened to ‘beat her butt black and blue’ when she had given the pheasants their freedom. Silas, who had threatened even worse violence to her person when he had found two of the greyhounds playing tug-of-war with his favourite Brooks Brothers shirt.
‘I thought you’d prefer to have breakfast up here. So I’ve ordered you some coffee and juice, and I remembered that you like your eggs over easy.’
Coffee. Caffeine. That was what was wrong, Julia told herself feverishly. She was in caffeine shock. She had heard it could do weird things to you, but she hadn’t realised just how weird.
‘Are you sure you’re wearing the right bathrobe?’ she demanded. ‘Only it doesn’t seem to be your size.’
‘Well, if you end up tripping over the hem of yours we’ll have to swap. But until you get out of that bed we aren’t going to know, are we?’
‘I can’t get out of bed with you standing there.’
‘You can’t? Why not? Worried about the effect the Mickey Mouse PJs might have on me?’
‘That was when I was ten,’ Julia told him awfully.
‘So was the teddy bear hot water bottle, but last time I visited the old guy there it was, hanging up along with the others.’
Muttering at him, Julia mentally cursed herself for getting into bed naked in the first place. It would serve Silas right if she just clean got out of bed starkers. Mickey Mouse PJs indeed. Huh. That would show him.
After all, it wasn’t as though no man had ever seen her naked. Several had, even if right now she could not remember ever having felt this hot-shot tingle of fizzing, trepidation-coated excitement before.
‘Your eggs will be cold,’ Silas warned her.
That was all he knew, Julia decided feverishly. Right now her ‘eggs’ were feeling pretty hot, and ready for the kind of action that led to one and one becoming three. Or maybe even four, if they had twins. She had always thought twins must be fun…
She gave a small yelp of protest against her own thoughts and hurriedly got out of bed, forgetting her nudity in her eagerness to escape from the images inside her head of two adorable dark-haired babies with Silas’s ice-blue eyes.
‘What happened to the tattoo?’
She was very careful not to turn round, but instead to look back over her shoulder as she stood sheltering behind the half-open bathroom door.
‘What tattoo?’
‘The family coat of arms. Mother said you’d had it tattooed across your butt.’
‘I did—for a dare. But it wasn’t permanent. Anything else you want to know?’
‘No, not right now. I guess it tells a guy quite a bit about a woman when he can see that she doesn’t sunbathe in the nude.’
‘Haven’t you heard of sun damage?’ Julia retorted smartly. ‘If I want an all-over tan I have it sprayed on.’
‘Take it from me, the cute white triangles are much more of a turn-on. Any guy would feel good knowing he was getting to see something the world at large hadn’t had access to. I’d forgotten how small you are without those ridiculous shoes you insist on wearing.’
‘Small?’ Julia stepped angrily towards him and then shot back, her face pink. ‘I’m five foot five.’
‘Like I said, I’d forgotten how small you are,’ Silas drawled.
‘Well, I haven’t forgotten what an arrogant, know-it-all you are,’ Julia snapped back at him crossly, before disappearing into her bathroom and firmly closing the door.
To her own disgust she was actually trembling slightly, with a mixture of rage and emotional frustration. How could she have forgotten just how much and how easily Silas had always managed to infuriate her, with that lordly belief of his that everything he said and did was both superior and right?
What must it be like to be so impervious and invulnerable? The problem with Silas was that he had never suffered. But whilst wealth and position had protected him from financial hardship and the rigours of modern-day life, it was surely his nature that had ensured he was impervious to emotional vulnerability and self-doubt. No one had ever successfully challenged his beliefs or made him question them. No one had ever made him doubt himself or what motivated him. Even that wise gentleman her grandfather treated him with respect and deference.
But she wasn’t going to do so! What she wouldn’t give to be around on the day when Silas discovered what it felt like to be human and hurt, Julia decided savagely as she showered and dried.
She pulled on her own waiting bathrobe, which of course was not oversized and meant for a man, but instead exactly the same as the one Silas was wearing.
Of course it was oversized on her, but the fact that it wrapped round her with fabric to spare and reached the floor was not, in her present mood, a disadvantage.
She found Silas standing beside the open windows of the sitting room, drinking his coffee.
‘There’s a balcony out there, but I’m not sure how safe it is,’ he warned her. ‘Want some coffee?’
‘I’ll pour my own, thanks,’ Julia told him sharply.
‘I’d eat your eggs first.’
‘I don’t eat eggs any more.’
It wasn’t the truth, but it was well worth depriving herself of them to have the joy of rejecting his authority.
But of course Silas wasn’t so easily outmaneuvered.
‘No wonder you look thin,’ he told her disparagingly.
‘I am not thin!’
‘What’s on the agenda for today?’
‘Nothing much, really. The Famous Couple and their people are flying out this afternoon, and presumably, Dorland will be going to see them off safely. But we aren’t involved in that. Lucy and Nick are due to return to England tonight, and, like I said, I’m booked on a flight for Naples.’
‘So that leaves you with a free morning?’
Julia hesitated. She had no intention of handing Silas the opportunity to further deride her by informing him that she intended to spend her free morning indulging in her shoe habit. Why should she, when even her closest friends shook their heads over it so much that secretly she did sometimes feel guilty?
‘Not exactly. I’ve got a few errands to run, some laundry to collect, and I want to go to the bank—that kind of thing.’
‘Fine. I’ll come with you. It will give me an opportunity to look round the old part of the town.’
‘No! I mean, there’s no need for you to come with me. You’d only be bored. I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on as well, and some phone calls to make.’
‘I see.’
Did she really think that he couldn’t work out that she was planning to see Blayne? Silas wondered cynically.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that he knew the other man was flying back to the UK later in the day, whilst he was accompanying Julia to Italy, he might have been inclined to do something about it, but he could see no sense in pushing her into doing something stupid like running off with Blayne.
It was a pity that she hadn’t remained at Amberley after leaving school, riding her horse, doing good works and keeping her grandfather company while she matured enough for him to marry her. He had not been too concerned about her involvement with Prêt a Party because it had freed up time he was able to put to good use in focusing on streamlining the operation of the Foundation.
Now, however, things were different. Now he was ready to put into operation his decision to make her his wife. She was, after all, in so many ways the perfect wife for him. They shared a common history, but their blood tie was not too close. She had virtually been brought up at Amberley, as had her mother, and would have no problem fitting in or running it. Julia, via her family history, understood the duties of a marriage such as theirs. Her grandfather would naturally approve of their union, and, whilst there was no obligation on him to submit his marriage for the older man’s approval, life would be easier all round if he did approve of the woman who would one day run his beloved home.
Not that Silas had any intention of basing himself permanently at Amberley. He was an American, after all, with responsibilities and duties to fulfil to the Foundation established by his own grandfather. Julia, he felt sure, would make an admirable wife in that respect, especially with his formidable mother to guide her. Their children—and there would be children—would grow up in a secure emotional environment, because there would be no divorce. He had already decided that after the birth of their first child he would commission Julia’s portrait, with her wearing the Maharajah’s gift, just like her ancestor.
Naturally, Silas was aware that many people—Julia included—would not appreciate his unemotional and practical view on marriage, but a man who was responsible for ensuring that billions of dollars and an earldom were passed intact down through the generations could not afford the folly of being governed by his emotions.
But now, like a small flaw in the middle of an otherwise perfect diamond, there was Nick Blayne. It was Silas’s belief that a person made his own luck, but he was forced to admit that it had been a bonus in his favour to be in a position to drive a wedge between Nick and Julia and at the same time take advantage of Julia’s loyalty to her friend by proposing their own fake relationship.
He certainly wasn’t prepared to have all his plans disrupted by the inconvenience of Julia getting involved in a messy divorce.
He wasn’t going to press the issue now, though. Blayne would be going back to London with his wife, whilst he intended to make sure that when Julia returned to the UK it would be in order to prepare for their marriage. And he had from now until the end of the year to achieve his goal.
True, there was the irksome and irritating problem of a certain spoiled American heiress who was declaring to anyone who would listen to her, without any encouragement from him, that she was passionately in love with him. It was no secret in old money New York society that there was more than a suspicion of mental instability in her family tree, but Silas had grown impatient of her dramatic and over-emotional behaviour. It wasn’t even as though he had actually dated her—although she seemed to think that the fact that she continually stalked him, turning up uninvited at events she knew he was attending, constituted some kind of relationship. If she had known the first thing about him she would have known that she was wasting her time, and that by sending him a video of herself having sex with two well-endowed musclemen would not tempt him to fall in love with her, as she had repeatedly insisted she knew he would. Silas had no intention of doing anything so impractical as falling in love with anyone.
Still, a beneficial side effect of the announcement of his engagement to Julia was that it would, thankfully, bring Aimee to her senses—or at least what senses she possessed, Silas decided unkindly.
She had managed to leave the hotel without anyone stopping her to ask where she was going, and Julia could feel her heart starting to beat that familiar little bit faster as she turned into the alleyway that led to the shoe shop.
She stopped guiltily to look back over her shoulder. Of course she should feel ashamed of herself, and no doubt she would later, but right now all she could think of were the shoes. And there they were, in the window, with their darling high delicate heels, and the kind of low-cut front that she knew would show just the right amount of toe cleavage.
She could stand here all day and look at them. But if she did that someone else might buy them, and she couldn’t bear that. Hurriedly she pushed open the shop door.
Over an hour later she left the shop, clutching two carrier bags, her face flushed and pink with happiness and her eyes shining. It had been so impossible to choose between the two pairs of shoes she had fallen for that in the end she had decided she had to have both. They had been just too beautiful to resist.
‘No Nick, Lucy?’ Silas enquired, putting down the newspaper he had been reading as Lucy walked into the pleasantly shaded patio area at the back of the hotel.
‘No, he had to go into town to attend to a few things. He must have his mobile switched off as well, because I’ve just tried to ring him.’
Her innocent statement confirmed his own suspicions, and it was on the tip of Silas’s tongue to suggest cynically that she try Julia’s instead.
‘I hope he gets back soon. Dorland has just been on the telephone to say that there’s a big panic on at the villa. Apparently, the Tiffany necklace has gone missing.’
‘Don’t tell me he’s surprised?’
When Lucy looked puzzled, Silas explained, ‘Martina is known for her acquisitive nature, and it won’t be the first time she’s held on to a piece of loaned jewellery and refused to hand it back.’
‘But Dorland will have to pay Tiffany for it. Because they loaned it to him,’ Lucy protested, looking shocked.
‘I doubt the odd million or so would make much of a dent in Dorland’s bank account, and in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing wasn’t some kind of publicity stunt. My guess is that Dorland will have informed the media first, and not the police.’
‘Silas, you are far too cynical,’ Lucy told him gently.
‘It isn’t cynicism, it’s common sense,’ Silas corrected her, glancing at his watch and then putting down his paper. ‘Julia went into town earlier—she should be on her way back by now. I think I’ll take a walk and see if I can spot her.’
‘Julia’s gone in to town?’ Lucy’s forehead crinkled into a small frown. ‘Oh, I thought she said last night that she intended to spend the morning with you?’
‘She’d probably forgotten then about the laundry she had to pick up.’
It wasn’t his business to protect Lucy Blayne’s feelings, Silas reminded himself, but the poor girl was so obviously vulnerable—and besides, it wouldn’t serve his purpose to create suspicion and mistrust between Julia and her best friend.
She really didn’t know which pair of shoes were her favourite, Julia mused dreamily as she sauntered back to the hotel. True, the pair she had seen in the shop window had been her first love, and she had had to have them, but then the assistant had shown her the other pair, and a pang of such acute longing had gripped her that she had just not been able to choose between them. Thank heavens she had had the good sense to buy both pairs.
‘Hello, Jules.’
She came to an abrupt and wary halt as the alleyway opened up into a small square and Nick materialised in front of her. The square was quiet and empty, apart from two old men sitting outside a small café, both of whom looked as though they were asleep.
‘I’m just on my way back to the hotel,’ Julia announced, trying to assure herself that if she acted as though Nick’s aggressive attack on her had not actually taken place then somehow that would require him to behave decently.
‘Well, well,’ Nick murmured. ‘Look who’s here.’
Julia gave a small gasp of dismay as she looked across the square and saw Silas walking purposefully towards them.
‘Let’s see how he likes looking at this, shall we?’
Before she could stop him Nick had pushed her back against the wall and was kissing her with mock passion, as she fought to break free of him.
He didn’t release her until Silas’s shadow was falling across her face, and kept his back to Silas before he turned to saunter triumphantly away, so that only she could see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes.
‘It wasn’t like it seemed—’ she began shakily, as Silas stood in front of her, blotting out the warmth of the sun so that she felt so chilled she actually started to shiver.
‘Do you remember what I threatened to do when you set those wretched pheasants free?’ Silas asked her, almost gently.
Julia was not deceived; she had heard that dulcet note in his voice before and knew exactly what it meant.
‘Yes, you said if I ever did anything like that again I’d feel the flat of your hand on my butt, good and hard. You couldn’t get away with threatening me like that now. It’s illegal to smack a child.’
‘But you aren’t a child; you are an adult—even if you don’t seem to possess the ability to reason like one. And right now the best way, in fact the only way I can think of letting you know how furious you have made me, would be for me to apply the weight of my hand to that pretty little derrière of yours, until it blushes pink with shame for you.
‘Can’t you see what you’re doing? You said that you didn’t want to hurt Lucy, and yet you lied to me and to her so that you could sneak out and meet up with her husband. What if she had been the one to see Blayne pushing you against that wall as though he were about to take you right there and then?’
There was no gentleness left in his voice now, and Julia quailed beneath the savage lash of its anger.
She was no weak-willed pushover, though, to be treated like a child and threatened with the kind of humiliation Silas had just described.
‘I did not sneak out to meet Nick! I’d only just bumped into him. He kissed me like that deliberately, because he had seen you. He’s angry because I’ve told him I won’t sleep with him, and now he wants to hurt me and get at you as well!’
Her voice was trembling slightly with both indignation at Silas’s accusation and reaction to her own mental image of his open palm, spanking teasingly and sexily down on her bare behind whilst she tried to squirm free. She couldn’t help feeling a little bit turned on both by the image and her own reaction to it. There was something definitely rather naughtily delicious about the thought of such teasing love-play. Not that she was into anything as potentially painful as true S and M, but a little gentle game of forfeits with the kind of ‘punishment’ that would involve her partner indulging in some pretend bottom-spanking could be fun if she was in the right mood. And with the right man…A man like Silas?
Julia could feel herself starting to blush a little at the inner excitement caused by her own thoughts, but Silas soon brought her back to reality, insisting, ‘You claim you met Blayne by chance, and yet it was obvious to me this morning, when you said you intended to go into town, that you were hiding something.’
‘But it wasn’t a secret meeting with Nick,’ Julia protested.
‘Then what was it?’ Silas challenged her.
Julia looked down at the bags Nick had made her drop.
‘Shoes,’ she muttered guiltily.
‘Shoes?’
Silas looked from the carrier bags to her flushed face and then back again.
‘You didn’t want me to know you intended to buy shoes?’ he questioned, bemused.
Julia could only shake her head. If Silas didn’t know about her shoe addiction then she certainly wasn’t going to expose herself to his mockery by telling him.
‘Come on, we’d better get back to the hotel,’ he announced, reaching down to pick up her bags.
Immediately Julia tried to stop him, not wanting to allow her precious purchases out of her own control.
‘Julia, I’ll carry them for you,’ Silas insisted, taking hold of her arm to hold her back so that he could pick them up, but he was gripping her arm exactly where Nick had bruised it the previous evening, and Julia couldn’t stop herself from giving a small, agonised gasp of pain.
‘What…?’
The sleeves of her tee shirt just about covered the bruise marks—or at least they did until Silas pushed one of them up to reveal them.
‘Who did this?’ he demanded quietly.
Julia didn’t even think of trying to lie.
‘Nick,’ she told him shakily. ‘Last night. He was furious when I told him about you…’
‘So he did this to you?’
The surge of angry protectiveness that gripped him caught him off guard. Of course no man should hurt a woman, but he was not used to experiencing such intense or possessive emotions.
He looked across the square in the direction Nick had taken.
Julia put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘I don’t think he meant to hurt me, Silas.’
‘But he did. Your arms are black and blue—’
Julia started to laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ Silas demanded.
Mischievously, Julia reminded him, ‘As my bottom deserved to be, according to you.’
Silas looked at her. Her lips were parted and her face was flushed. There was a look in her eyes that told him…
He put down the carriers and said softly, ‘Something tells me that you find the prospect of a little spanking rather erotic.’
Julia laughed and looked away demurely. ‘You’re the one who keeps threatening to punish me,’ she told him breathlessly.
Heavens, she couldn’t really be flirting like this with Silas, could she?
‘Mmm, but you’re the one who keeps reminding me that I haven’t carried out my threat as yet,’ Silas murmured. ‘And the one who keeps on provoking me…’
‘Provoking you?’
‘You certainly provoked me this morning, with that cute, peachy little butt of yours.’
Now it wasn’t just her flirting with Silas. He was flirting right back. And the heady excitement of what they were doing was irresistible.
‘You said I was thin,’ Julia pouted.
‘I guess maybe I didn’t make a close enough appraisal.’
He was actually moving closer to her and reaching behind her, and—oh, lordy—he was sliding his hand right down her back and cupping—no, caressing—one firm buttock. Helplessly Julia leaned into him, even her shoes forgotten.
This was definitely not part of his game plan, Silas recognised as he looked down at her closed eyes and parted lips. He wanted his—their—kids to be conceived after they were married, not before.
He bent his head and kissed her briefly, ignoring the look of disappointment in her eyes when she opened them as he released her.
‘We’d better get back. I saw Lucy at the hotel, and apparently Dorland’s in a sweat because the necklace he had on loan from Tiffany has gone missing.’
‘Oh, no! Poor Dorland. Maybe they’ll have found it by now,’ Julia suggested, as Silas picked up her bags. ‘Stuff like that happens all the time. These big stars have such a huge retinue that no one ever seems to know what anyone else is doing. One of the PRs has probably put the necklace somewhere safe.’
She was growing more sexually attracted to Silas by the hour, Julia admitted to herself—or had the attraction always been there without her wanting to recognise it?
‘Oh, there you are. Nick’s gone over to the villa to see if he can be of any help to Dorland,’ Lucy began as they walked into the hotel, only to look accusingly at Julia’s carrier bags before exclaiming, ‘Jules—not more shoes!’
‘I had to have them.’
‘How often have I heard that before? You do realise, I hope, Silas, that Jules has a very serious shoe habit?’
‘Lucy, wait until you see them. They’ve got the perfect toe cleavage shape,’ Julia burst out enthusiastically. ‘And the heels—they had one pair with the cutest little kittens, and another with serious stilettos…and…’
‘You had to buy them both!’
Julia hung her head.
‘No wonder you snuck out this morning without telling me where you were going,’ Lucy accused her. ‘You’re going to have to find a way of restraining her, Silas,’ Lucy warned him, mock seriously.
‘Yes, I think I am,’ Silas agreed gravely, but when Julia looked across at him the wicked glint in his eyes told her that the kind of restraint he was envisaging, had nothing whatsoever to do with preventing her from buying shoes.
What in the world was happening to her? She didn’t really know—but she certainly knew what she would like to happen, Julia admitted ruefully as she looked discreetly but very interestedly at the tell tale bulge that no amount of expensive tailoring could completely hide.
Sex with Silas. Mmm…
‘Jules, will you please stop looking at Silas like that? You’re embarrassing me.’ Lucy laughed.
‘So, tell me some more about this shoe fetish thing you’ve got.’
It was after lunch and Lucy and Nick had gone upstairs to pack, and Julia and Silas were still sitting outside, finishing the bottle of wine Silas had bought to go with the alfresco lunch they had eaten in the small hotel courtyard.
‘It isn’t a fetish. It’s just that I can’t help wanting to buy shoes.’
‘Uh-huh. And toe cleavage? What exactly is that?’
Honestly—men. They didn’t know anything! Julia shook her head and explained in a kind voice, ‘It’s when the front of your shoe shows a bit of your toes, and it’s seriously sexy.’
‘Show me?’
‘I can’t—not properly anyway—because I’m not wearing the right kind of shoes,’ Julia told him. ‘You’ll see what I mean when I wear them.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘I’d better go up and pack. We need to leave for the airport for our flight to Naples at five.’ Would he offer to come with her? And if he did…
‘I’ve got a few phone calls to make.’
Julia tried not to feel disappointed.
‘And, by the way, I’ve cancelled your booking at that guest house and booked us both into the Hotel Arcadia instead.’
‘The Arcadia? But that’s the most exclusive hotel in Positano. It costs the earth to stay there, and Lucy—’
‘Stop panicking. Naturally I shall be paying the bill. Did Lucy say that Dorland was going to come over?’
‘Yes. About three.’
Upstairs in the suite, Julia packed quickly and efficiently—leaving plenty of room for her new shoes. Her normal travelling work ‘uniform’ consisted of her current favourite pair of jeans, (her love affair with jeans came a close second to her shoe addiction—Julia was simply not what she called a ‘suit and two veg’ fan), several tee shirts and strappy tops, a swimsuit just in case she got the chance to have a lazy day, and a long, sleek, very plain jersey dress that rolled up into a ball, which she wore when she needed to be dressed up. Added to these basics were casual cut-offs and a few boho-type tops, plus a much loved floaty skirt.
Julia adored accessorising her clothes with one and sometimes more of her trademark boho ‘finds’. Her personal look was very different from the designer ‘footballer’s wife’ style adopted by so many of their clients. One of her most cherished moments was the time a stylist for Sex and the City had stopped her in the street to ask where she had got the top she had been wearing. Julia’s current favourite accessory was a dark brown wide leather belt, ornamented with leather flower petals sewn with tiny turquoise beads to form the flower stamens. She had bought it from a stall at Camden Market, and wore it at every opportunity. She had been seriously tempted to buy a pair of Aztec-inspired turquoise earrings she had also seen on the stall, but had managed to resist.
Her packing finished, she looked at her watch—the plain but oh, so elegant Cartier that Lucy had so generously insisted on buying for all three of them out of her first profits.
Those had been happy, heady days, filled with fun and laughter. Julia frowned. The initial success of the business seemed to have been replaced by a series of financial problems, causing poor Lucy to have to dig deep into her trust fund to provide Prêt a Party with more capital. No wonder her friend was looking so stressed.
It was almost three o’clock. She might as well go back down and wait for Dorland to arrive. Most of the necessary organisation for his end-of-summer party had already been done by Dorland himself, but, as Julia knew, he liked to fuss and fret over every tiny little detail, and virtually every day she received anxious urgent e-mails from him.
She had just stepped out of the lift into the guest house’s dusty, faded hallway when her mobile rang.
‘Darling!’ She heard her mother’s voice exclaiming. ‘How naughty of you not to tell us about you and Silas. I couldn’t believe it at first when Mrs. Williams showed me the article about the two of you in that celebrity gossip magazine she buys. Such a lovely photograph of the two of you, darling, but I must admit I was rather shocked. Not that we aren’t all thrilled. We are, of course—especially Daddy. I drove straight round to see him, and he was so pleased that he instructed Bowers to open a bottle of the wine he put down when you were born, to celebrate. It’s what he’s always longed for. Of course I had to ring Nancy. So silly of me to get the time difference wrong, but naturally she is as excited as we are. You’ll be married at Amberley, of course—every Amberley bride always is, but have you decided on a date yet? I do so think that winter weddings have a certain élan.’
With every excited word her mother spoke, Julia’s insides churned a little bit more tensely.
‘Ma…’ She tried to protest when she could eventually interrupt her excited happiness, but it was no use. Her mother, as high as a kite on maternal delight, was too busy listing all the many sections of the family who would want to supply a potential bridesmaid.
Silas was on his own in the small courtyard. Julia didn’t waste any time announcing in despair, ‘Ma’s just been on the phone. She thinks we’re getting married.’
When Silas refused to react with the shock she had expected, she added, ‘She’s told your mother, and Gramps was so pleased he instructed Bowers to open a bottle of the wine he put down when I was born.’
‘The Château d’Yquem, eh?’ Silas looked impressed. ‘He’s obviously pleased, then.’
‘What? Of course he’s pleased. According to Ma it’s what he’s always wanted. But that isn’t the point. We aren’t engaged—we aren’t even in a relationship. Can you imagine what it’s going to do to him when he finds out the truth?’
‘You’re right,’ Silas agreed firmly. ‘We can’t let that happen.’
Julia had the unnerving feeling that she was a passenger in a car that had suddenly taken a dangerous curve at high speed and left the road completely.
‘Silas…’
‘For his sake we’re just going to have to go along with the situation for now.’
‘Go along with it? Ma’s already planning the wedding—right down to the number of bridesmaids!’
‘Mothers are like that,’ Silas agreed gravely.
Julia glared at him.
‘You aren’t taking this seriously,’ she accused him.
‘Because it isn’t serious,’ Silas told her. ‘Okay, it’s unfortunate, but it’s hardly the end of the world. People get engaged to one another every day.’
‘Yes, but they have a reason for being engaged,’ Julia told him through gritted teeth. ‘We don’t.’
‘No, but we do have a reason to maintain the fiction that we are engaged.’
‘Gramps?’ she guessed helplessly.
‘Exactly,’ Silas agreed. ‘No matter what our personal feelings—or lack of them—I am sure we are both agreed that not upsetting your grandfather is of more importance than they are.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Julia agreed immediately.
‘So, then, we are both agreed that for his sake there is nothing we can do other than to accept that we are now “engaged”.’
Julia swallowed—hard. ‘But ultimately…’
‘Ultimately a solution will have to be found,’ Silas agreed calmly. ‘Either by us or perhaps by life itself.’
Julia looked at him. ‘You mean that Gramps might…that he may not…I know his heart isn’t very strong, but—’
Before she could continue, the door to the courtyard opened and Dorland hurried in.
‘I suppose you’ve heard about those wretched diamonds? How on earth can they be lost? Martina swears she remembers taking them off and putting them back in their case, and asking someone to give them to the bloody security guard—who I paid a small fortune to do nothing other than watch over them. He says he never got them, Martina can’t remember who she gave them to, and she screams every time I try to get her to remember. And George—would you believe it?—was shagging one of the waitresses when Martina took them off. I’ve got Tiffany on the phone every five minutes, demanding that I pay them a million dollars for their necklace. Thank goodness I managed to persuade the Beast to pay for an exclusive account of how George was discovered in flagrante, the very night he had reaffirmed his marriage vows. You should see the photograph they’ve done—George and this girl, naked apart from a diamond necklace.’
‘The Beast?’ Silas questioned.
‘Dorland’s pet name for a certain red-top daily,’ Julia explained.
‘My little joke, Silas.’ Dorland beamed. ‘The editor, the dearest boy, has a fondness for dressing up as King Kong, as part of his mating ritual.’
‘Dorland, I’ve got a bone to pick with you,’ Julia informed him grimly. ‘Oh?’
‘My mother’s daily showed her an article in A-List Life with photographs of me and Silas and the information that—’
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I just couldn’t resist.’ Dorland stopped her, looking more smug than repentant. ‘It was such a tempting tidbit. Fortunately the photographs I told the guys to take of the two of you turned out well, and I told Murray to make room for them. I thought up the headline myself. “Keeping it in the Family.” Then it said, “My spies tell me that one of A-List’s favourite party girls is soon to be planning a wedding. And guess who to? Her grandfather, the Earl of Amberley, is bound to be pleased, since her husband-to-be is also his heir, the American billionaire Silas Cabot Carter.” You’ll be getting married at Amberley of course?’ he continued, unconsciously echoing Julia’s mother.
‘Of course,’ Silas agreed smoothly. ‘But not yet. I haven’t forgotten my promise to Lucy.’ Really, Silas reflected inwardly, things couldn’t have begun to work out better if he had planned them this way himself.
‘Jules, I’ve been thinking—the fireworks. Do you really think it’s a good idea to colour-co-ordinate them?’ Dorland demanded, having obviously lost interest in their ‘engagement’.
‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ Julia assured him, well aware how much it would cost if she were to instruct the firework suppliers to change the order she had already given them.
‘Lucy, I know you’re about to leave, but have you got a minute?’
‘Of course. Nick’s gone down with our stuff to wait for the taxi.’
She hated doing this, Julia thought. No way did she want to lie to her best friend, but with her grandfather having sent off a notice of her supposed engagement to The Times, Lucy was bound to wonder why on earth she hadn’t said something.
‘Silas and I are getting engaged.’
‘Jules!’ Immediately Lucy threw her arms around her and hugged her fiercely, her face alight with happiness. ‘Oh, I am so pleased for you. You’re perfect for one another. Oh, Jules, how exciting—and you never said a word…’
‘It’s all been very sudden,’ Julia told her uncomfortably. Well, that much at least was true.
Despite the fact that her friend was obviously happy with the news, Lucy looked weary.
‘You’re happy, aren’t you, Lucy?’ Julia demanded abruptly. ‘I mean, with Nick?’
‘Of course I am,’ Lucy told her immediately. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘A word with you, if you please, Blayne,’ Silas demanded quietly.
This was the first time he had managed to catch Nick on his own following Julia’s revelations.
Nick shrugged. ‘Sure. How can I help?’
Silas studied him assessingly. Was it only another man who could see that the too-handsome face hinted at weakness?
‘You’re walking a very precarious line right now, and whilst your marriage is not my concern, Julia’s well-being is.’
‘You’re warning me off?’ Nick asked lightly, smiling. He gave another small shrug. ‘Jules has a very passionate nature. She’s never made any secret of the fact that she has a bit of a thing for me—’
‘Really? And what do you have a thing for, Blayne? Apart from assaulting women, of course.’
An angry red tide of colour had begun to seep up under Nick’s tan.
‘I don’t know what she told you, but she was—’
‘Trying to tell you that she wasn’t interested in having sex with you. Let me give you a friendly warning. You’ve been lucky. You married Lucy. Don’t push that luck too far, otherwise you could very easily find yourself unmarried to her. Right now she’s all that’s stopping me from turning your life inside out. You’re scum—you know that, and I know that. So, in case you want what we both know to become public knowledge, I suggest that in future you remember what a very lucky man you are.’
‘It’s all very well for you, standing there all high and mighty with your billions of dollars behind you,’ Nick burst out savagely. ‘You don’t even begin to know what the real world is all about. If you did—’
‘If I did, I still wouldn’t use a woman to satisfy my own needs if that wasn’t what she wanted. Money has nothing to do with morals, Blayne. We’ve all got freedom of choice.’
‘Bastard,’ Silas heard Nick mutter venomously as he walked away from him. But the sudden compression of his mouth into a hard line wasn’t caused by Nick’s aggression.
He had claimed a moral superiority over Blayne, and it was true that he would never physically abuse or force a woman in any kind of way, but according to his mother in planning to marry Julia he was using her.
‘A marriage between us will benefit her as much as it will me,’ he had told her.
‘Only if she shares your thinking, Silas, and I have to say that I don’t think she will. You claim to be a practical man who has no desire for a marriage based on love. I doubt that Julia will share that point of view.’
Silas stopped himself. This was hardly the best time for him to start indulging in a guilt trip over Julia’s feelings.
Any practical person would agree with him that a marriage between them would be extremely beneficial to both of them. In and out of bed. He considered himself to be an aware and fair lover, and Julia hadn’t flirted with him earlier on because she didn’t want to have sex with him, had she? There was no reason why they shouldn’t share a mutually very satisfying sex life. If they did, then he was certainly prepared to remain a faithful husband, and he felt confident that he could keep Julia satisfied enough not to want to stray herself. Their marriage would certainly have a far stronger foundation than one based on ‘romantic love’. One only had to look at the tragedy of Lucy’s marriage to Blayne to know that.