Crossing over to the French doors Adam drew the heavy curtains against the night. Then he returned to the hearth. After stirring the fire with a poker, he added another log.
Anna wondered who had sent the Christmas cards displayed on the mantelpiece. Family? She wasn’t even sure if he had any, although he’d mentioned a mother in passing. It proved how little she really knew him. Perhaps the cards were from friends connected with his company.
Adam dropped onto the sofa beside her. “I have to say, I was surprised when Maddie called.”
“I can imagine. I hope it was okay.”
“Of course,” he said, draping his arm along the back of the cushions and turning in her direction. “I have a feeling I know why you’re here. I hope I’m wrong, though.”
Anna smiled and shook her head. “Somehow I don’t think you are. I’m leaving the agency. And,” she continued before he could interrupt, “this time for good.”
“I see.”
“I suppose you’re wondering why I wanted to see you.”
“I guess to say goodbye?”
“That. But something else, too. I didn’t want to leave without talking to you.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“No. I’m not sure I do.”
“Adam, we couldn’t go on doing what we were doing. Where would it have ended?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes. It does to me.”
“You really believe you can turn your back on what we have?”
“I do.”
“Then, am I allowed to ask your plans?”
There was no way to soften the rebuff. “No. I’m sorry.”
“So this time, it really is goodbye?”
“It is.”
Adam hauled himself to his feet and went over to a cabinet, where he took a couple of glasses from one shelf and a bottle of single malt whisky from another.
He also waved a can of ginger ale in her direction.
She nodded.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said, sitting back down and unscrewing the top from the bottle. “I have no idea where you are going or what you are doing. For all I know you could be moving to another country. But that’s okay.”
He poured a couple of fingers’ worth into each glass and splashed the mixer into hers.
“I realise you want to turn your back on the last couple of years. Put it all behind you. I can understand that too.” He handed Anna her glass.
There was an almost sorrowful expression in his eyes, one she’d never seen before.
“Look,” he said, “I won’t insult you by offering the same deal as last time. It would be pointless, I guess?”
“It would.” She smiled a little sadly.
“And you won’t tell me what you are going to do?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He lifted his shoulders ruefully and took a good mouthful of Macallan’s. “You know, I could offer you something different this time,” he added. His head was bowed, and he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“No.” She was laughing.
“You don’t know what it is.”
“No, I don’t,” she admitted
“Come with me to Paris,” he said, looking at the glass in his hand. “Spend Christmas with me, and then I will let you go.”
She was tempted. Oh God, how she was tempted!
“I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her response was so quiet he might have missed it.
“Have you eaten?”
She looked up, caught out by the change of subject.
“No.”
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“Then you have a choice. We could go out. Or we could see what’s lurking in the fridge.”
“The fridge,” she said positively.
They found eggs, a single tomato and a plastic-wrapped tray of mushrooms.
“Omelette?” Adam suggested.
“Perfect. Is there any more wine?”
“The chiller over there.” He was pointing to a state-of-the-art, temperature controlled wine cellar.
“Okay,” she said over her shoulder, “you’re in charge of the food. I’ll take care of the drink.”
She opened the glass door and started pulling out bottles. Most of the labels she had never seen before.
“Any preference?” she asked.
“No. Whatever suits.”
She could hear him whisking the eggs.
She made her way down the shelves, pulling out bottle after bottle. Who on earth had this much wine just waiting to be opened? Eventually she picked a label at random and made her way back to the kitchen bench.
“Good choice,” he said, looking up from his task.
“Glad it meets with your approval.” She replied with a smile.
They ate in the kitchen and afterwards shared the chore of filling the dishwasher. She was wiping down the counter-top.
“I think I might have something for dessert,” he said, returning to the fridge.
“Only if it’s disgustingly decadent.”
“Homemade Tiramisu?” He was holding up a foil container.
“Don’t tell me you made it?” She was astonished.
“Of course,” he said, sounding more than a little offended. Then he grinned. “Okay, no. Benefits of a housekeeper.”
“Tiramisu is tiramisu. Is she Italian?” Anna was opening drawers, looking for spoons.
“No. Filipina.”
“Maybe with a little Florence or Milan in her ancestry?”
“More than likely.”
“Then it will be wonderful.”
“You want to go back through?” Adam was nodding towards the sitting room.
“Definitely.”
They sat on the floor in front of the fire, spooning the dessert straight from the carton.
“I love this room,” she said between mouthfuls of sponge cake soaked in Marsala and mascarpone cheese. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
“I quite like it myself,” he replied.
* * *
They lay naked on rug. Anna was lying in the crook of his arm and drifting in and out of sleep. When he lowered his head and touched his lips to her hair, she gave an almost imperceptible sigh of contentment.
He had made love to her in the way she craved. Refusing her any relief, he’d taken her higher and higher, until she reached the plateau. It was so erotic and unbelievably intimate, and made even more so by the warmth from the hearth and the sensation of soft wool beneath them.
He had never met anyone as complex as Anna. Sexually, she was an enigma. But more than that, she was a kindred spirit. Determined and capable, she would do well at whatever she turned her hand to.
He would let her go. He had no choice, after all.
But one day, when enough time had passed and her time at Elite was a distant memory, he would reach out to her again.
He lowered his head, and closing his eyes, breathed in the alluring fragrance of her.
It would take years rather than months for that moment to come. He knew that. Perhaps he should have admitted the truth earlier. Told her he loved her and always had.
Now it was too late.