Chapter Three

FOR THE NEXT three days Kristina continued to feel frustrated and confused. She’d never had a problem in getting any man she wanted, in fact her problem had been getting rid of the ones she didn’t. This turnaround had thrown her off balance, and she hated it. As a result she channelled all her rage and frustration into her work and drove an even harder bargain than usual with publishers and foreign agents.

‘We’ve had a good three days!’ remarked Sue as she went over the contracts she’d had to prepare. ‘You’ve got the magic touch this week.’

‘I wanted someone else’s magic touch,’ muttered Kristina.

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing,’ said Kristina quickly. ‘Talking to myself I’m afraid. Oh no, not the phone again. I wanted to get these emails sorted out. Ask them to call back would you. Say I’m in a meeting.’

She watched Sue pick up the phone, and then saw her frown. ‘Could you repeat the name?’ asked Sue. ‘It just doesn’t ring a bell right now. I’m sure I …’

Kristina didn’t wait to hear any more; she snatched the receiver from her startled assistant. ‘Kristina Masterton here. Can I help you?’

‘Yes you can, Kristina Masterton,’ replied a blessedly familiar voice. ‘I’d like you to come to my house at nine tonight.’ He gave her his address, then said, ‘Please do not wear any perfume or jewellery. That will be supplied.’

He gave her no time to reply, no chance to say yes or no, he simply replaced his telephone and Kristina was left with her heart racing and her hands trembling at the realisation that it really was going to happen after all. Tonight she would have to put on the bracelet.

‘Who was that?’ asked Sue. ‘He had a lovely voice. Very cultured and soothing.’

‘My gynaecologist,’ said Kristina wildly, unable to think up anything better on the spur of the moment.

‘Really? Give me his name and address! Shall we do those emails then?’

Kristina gave herself a mental shake. There were hours to go still; hours that she needed to fill with urgent work. She had to push all thoughts of tonight to the back of her mind until later, but although she managed to, she resented doing it because what she really wanted was to enjoy the anticipation of the moment. For the first time in years work was not uppermost in her mind.

*

At exactly nine o’clock that night, Kristina stood on the top step outside the address she’d been given and after taking a deep breath, reached out and pressed the doorbell. She heard the faintest echo of chimes from deep inside the house and then the door was opened by a slim Indian girl who looked to be about nineteen. She smiled at Kristina, but didn’t speak. Instead she stepped back and inclined her head in what Kristina assumed to be a gesture of welcome.

The hall was dark, the mahogany-stained floor highly polished with one large gold and green Persian rug covering the centre, while on the side tables stood expensive porcelain figures, mostly of eastern origin.

The girl who’d let Kristina in remained standing to one side, her eyes on the floor, and just as Kristina was about to ask if Tarquin was at home he walked out of one of the doors that led off the hallway.

She’d wondered earlier if he was really as darkly sensual looking as she’d remembered, but the moment he appeared she knew that she hadn’t been wrong; in fact if anything he looked even better tonight.

Once again he was in a suit, but this time it was dark blue, and the pale blue shirt had an unusual cutaway collar that enabled him to tie a large knot in his blue and red tie. As he smiled and stretched out his hand she saw that he was wearing a large Patek Philippe watch with a bold but simple face to it. Expensive but very tasteful, she thought appreciatively.

She reached out to take his hand, and it was then that she saw it. Lying in his palm was a tiny gold bracelet with the familiar letter ‘B’ suspended in the middle. ‘For you,’ he said softly. At that moment, for one fleeting second, Kristina hesitated. She wanted to put it on, had dreamt of nothing else since their first meeting, but to actually place herself in this man’s hands was a huge step to take and she felt panic stir in her.

Tarquin Rashid watched her without expression. The choice had to be hers and hers alone, but he hoped that she wouldn’t back out because he, like Kristina, had anticipated this moment with increasing excitement and desire.

At last she picked the bracelet up and thought that she heard a slow exhalation of breath from Tarquin, but then she was slipping it on and at the touch of the cool gold on her skin she began to tremble.

‘Excellent,’ remarked Tarquin, gesturing for the Indian girl to go up the stairs ahead of them. ‘Now we can begin.’

Kristina went to follow the girl, but he shook his head. ‘I go next, you follow me,’ he explained. His voice was polite but firm, and she realised that from now on she could do nothing unless he told her to. She was to take no decisions and make no choices, everything that happened this night would be dictated by Tarquin.

The room that they finally entered was on the third floor, a huge studio-type room with an enormous skylight window. A vast bed set low to the floor dominated the room and behind it was a silk-covered screen. There were pillows and cushions all over the bed’s surface and the room was scented with burning candles set in the four corners. The perfume was subtle yet erotic, with a hint of both jasmine and sandalwood.

She stood uncertainly on the soft carpet, awaiting Tarquin’s orders. She was still trembling and hoped that it didn’t show. It was ridiculous to be frightened by the situation when she’d chosen it, longed for it, but the fear wasn’t of the man in front of her but of the total loss of control.

For what seemed to Kristina to be an endless time he stood two feet away from her studying her carefully, while the Indian girl waited in the background. ‘Tell me what you’re feeling,’ he said at last.

‘Excited,’ replied Kristina.

He moved close to her and put the palms of his hands flat against the sides of her head, his grip firm but not unpleasant. ‘You’re meant to tell the truth,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t like it when people lie to me.’

Kristina tried to jerk her head away and his eyes widened in surprise. ‘I didn’t tell you to move,’ he reminded her and it was only then that she fully understood the extent of the control he had over her.

She tried to remain still, and the pressure from his hands eased a little. ‘Tell me how you really feel,’ he suggested, his fingers moving up into her hair and lightly massaging her scalp.

‘Rather nervous,’ she admitted.

‘Of course; that’s only to be expected. Lydia will undress you now and then give you a bath. After that you will be ready for me.’

She assumed that Lydia was the girl who’d let her in, and the thought of another woman undressing and washing her wasn’t at all to her liking. Knowing, however, that there was nothing she could do about it she simply remained where she was as Tarquin stepped away from her and the Indian girl took his place.

Kristina saw that Tarquin was watching closely as the girl began to unfasten the buttons of the lightweight coat-dress that Kristina had worn to the house, but when she tried to help the girl by drawing an arm out of one of the sleeves his voice interrupted her.

‘No!’ he said curtly, and he turned his head away slightly in what she recognised as a sign of displeasure.

Lydia smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry,’ she murmured as she eased the garment off the other woman’s shoulders. ‘The first time is always difficult.’

Kristina wondered how many other women the girl had seen come to this house.

Beneath the top garment Kristina was wearing a cream satin body edged with lace and with very high-cut legs. Lydia stepped to one side to allow Tarquin to study Kristina as she stood there before him, feeling her nipples hardening under his gaze until they brushed against the prickly lace. This most delicate of caresses seemed almost unbearably erotic and her stomach drew in on itself with desire, the muscles tightening in anticipation of sexual pleasure.

Finally Tarquin nodded and Lydia once more stood in front of his visitor. Then, slowly, she knelt on the floor, her slim hands going between Kristina’s thighs as they tried to unfasten the press-studs set there.

Lydia’s fingers were light and practised, and as she undid the studs she let the pads of them trail over the cotton gusset of the garment, lightly caressing Kristina’s outer sex lips beneath the material. The touch was brief, almost imperceptible, and yet Kristina heard her breath catch and felt her thighs start to shake with longing for more pressure, for Tarquin’s hands at last to touch her there at the very centre of her pleasure.

If he was aware of Kristina’s feelings the dark-haired man didn’t show it. His eyes remained unfathomable and his expression sombre. From the look on his face Kristina felt that she could just as easily have been a patient who was posing a problem as a woman he intended to make love to.

Now Lydia moved behind Kristina and very slowly she eased the thin straps off her shoulders and let them fall down the sides of her arms, the material again teasingly brushing her flesh which was now starting to burn all over her body as though from some inner heat. Finally the entire garment was eased upwards and over her head. As Lydia pulled on it she allowed her hands to cup the undersides of Kristina’s small but rapidly swelling breasts and once again Kristina was pierced with need for physical contact with the stranger standing so near and yet so far away.

Now she was totally naked and Lydia gestured for her to follow her out through a door set in the side of the room, but before she could obey Tarquin moved up to her again. Very slowly he put out a hand and to her astonishment he covered her eyes so that she couldn’t see what he was doing. Suddenly his mouth was on hers and his tongue was parting her lips, thrusting in and out in an imitation of the sexual act that only fired her already fevered imagination all the more. Without thinking she moved towards him, her hips trying to brush against his upper leg or groin.

At once he stopped kissing her, uncovered her eyes and stepped away. ‘I didn’t tell you to move,’ he reminded her in a detached voice that was in startling contrast to the sexual urgency that she’d sensed in the kiss. ‘It seems that you find the rules of the society difficult to obey.’

Kristina didn’t answer, feeling certain that even to speak uninvited would be wrong. At her silence he nodded in approval. ‘Before the bath I will remind you of two things. One, if you wish the bathing to stop, remove the bracelet but you must then return home. Two, I do not want you to speak or indeed make any kind of sound during the bath. The time for such communication is later, when I choose. Please indicate your understanding by nodding your head.’

The frustration of not even being allowed to vocalise her agreement was unbelievable and also incredibly arousing. Normally Kristina had to make sure that she explained everything several times over. Her entire business life was made up of communication and now here was a man refusing to allow her any form of communication. She wondered if this was how Laurence behaved with Jacqueline, but then guessed that it probably wasn’t. All the men, like the women they chose, were bound to be very different. At this moment she was very glad she’d been chosen by Tarquin.

‘Well?’ he sounded impatient and she realised that she’d been day-dreaming. Hastily she nodded, and he then indicated that she should follow Lydia through into the adjoining bathroom.

The bath, like the bed, was huge and so full that when Kristina lowered herself into the water it rose almost to the top. The bath was scented but there were no soap bubbles and when Tarquin seated himself at the foot of the bath he was able to see every inch of Kristina’s body.

Lydia put a bath mitten on her right hand, poured some liquid soap on to it and then began to gently rub at Kristina’s back, moving her hand in small circular movements that both cleansed and stimulated the skin.

When she moved her hand a little and started to use it beneath Kristina’s breasts, Kristina looked directly into Tarquin’s eyes, but because they were so deep-set and he was sitting in shadow it wasn’t possible for her to make out the expression in them. She hoped that he liked what he was seeing and was just about to sit up straighter, pulling back her shoulders to emphasise her small breasts, when she remembered that he hadn’t asked her to move and she managed to prevent herself from moving at all, congratulating herself on her self-control.

Lydia worked swiftly but carefully, and when she started to soap the breasts themselves she removed the mitten and used only her bare hands. She deliberately teased the pale pink nipples a little and as the soap dried round them the hardened tips felt cold despite the warmth of the room.

‘Crouch on your hands and knees,’ said Tarquin softly. ‘Keep your legs as far apart as the bath allows. Lydia needs to be able to cleanse every part of you.’

For the first time since she’d entered the house, Kristina didn’t want to obey. The idea of opening herself in such a way to another woman, allowing the Indian girl’s fingers access to her most private place, was both shocking and in a way degrading. At the same time, though, she could feel her pulse quickening with excitement and with only the slightest hesitation she scrambled into the position Tarquin had requested and let her head hang down so that she was looking into the bath water and not his face as she was washed between her thighs.

She felt the girl’s fingers slide between her legs from behind her, and then her pubic hair was being soaped and the massaging movements caused Kristina’s highly aroused body to start to open so that her outer lips expanded. Now Lydia’s fingers were moving along the inner tissue until quite unexpectedly they glided over the slowly swelling clitoris and Kristina gave a gasp of delight as a spark of hot pleasure flared in her lower belly.

‘I told you to remain silent,’ said Tarquin, disappointment clear in his voice. ‘Tell me what happened.’

Kristina swallowed hard, wondering how she could possibly vocalise what had just occurred. ‘I’m sorry, but Lydia touched … That is, her fingers brushed …’

‘For a literary agent you seem to be having great difficulty with words,’ he laughed. ‘Please explain accurately what happened.’

Kristina bit on her bottom lip with irritation at herself, but even as she tried to find the words Lydia’s fingers repeated the movement and this time lingered a second longer so that there was a slow coiling movement of pleasure deep inside Kristina’s abdomen and again she gasped.

‘Tell me,’ repeated Tarquin insistently.

‘Her fingers keep touching my clitoris!’ gasped Kristina. ‘It makes me feel wonderful and I can’t control my breathing when it happens.’

‘Then we must teach you better control during the course of the evening,’ he commented.

She felt herself start trembling again at the words, and suddenly Lydia stepped away from her and Tarquin held up a large bath towel. ‘Time to get out of there. I will dry you.’ She expected a slow, sensuous towelling but it was brief and hurried, and she still felt slightly damp when he put one large hand on the back of her neck and pushed her in the direction of the bedroom again.

‘Now we will really begin,’ he murmured. She felt the bracelet caress her wrist as though it was reminding her that she was still bound to obey him and her only pleasure would be the pleasure that he allowed her.

Leading her to the foot of the bed, Tarquin then opened the intricately carved door of a wardrobe and drew out a turquoise satin kaftan which he draped round the passive Kristina. It was unlike any other kaftan she’d seen, with a high mandarin-style collar that fastened quite tightly round her neck with a velcro strip and then hung open down the front. The sleeves were conventional, long and wide, but when Tarquin’s hands turned her towards a mirror set in the wall on the opposite side of the room and then gently pushed her forwards she saw that with every step she took the garment parted, revealing tantalising glimpses of various parts of her body before closing around her again.

When she was a few inches away from the mirror she felt his hands grip her shoulders in a movement of restraint, and obediently she stood quite still, but there was nothing passive about her feelings. She felt as though her entire body was buzzing beneath the skin, tiny tremors tingling with such heightened anticipation that she knew the moment he touched her intimately she’d explode into a shattering climax.

‘Some jewellery I think,’ he murmured to himself, and she watched in the mirror as he reached over her to clip on a pair of gold tear-shaped earrings with a huge pearl at the base of each one. Finally he walked in front of her, momentarily obscuring her reflection, and carefully daubed her with perfume from a tiny cut-glass bottle. She didn’t recognise the scent but it had fruity overtones, reminding her of apricots, and beneath that the indisputably sexy hint of musk.

‘Do you know it?’ asked Tarquin, allowing himself the luxury of placing one final drop on the thin skin at the back of each of her knees, a touch that made her toes curl in delight.

‘No, I don’t,’ she admitted.

‘It’s Trésor. The moment I met you I knew that this was your perfume. When it was launched they used the slogan, For the woman who seeks a successful life rather than success. Under the circumstances I feel that most appropriate!’

Suddenly the swift, heart-stopping smile crossed his face and Kristina, who was already in such a state of arousal that she was almost beside herself with lust, knew that under normal circumstances she’d now take his hand and lead him straight to the bed, rubbing her aching pubic area against his thigh as a preliminary to their love-making. But tonight she couldn’t; tonight she had to wait for him to decide what they would do next, and the strain was unbearable.

He moved behind her once more and together they stared into the mirror. Kristina could never remember seeing her eyes so bright, and her dark hair was damp and curly, giving her a look of wild sexual abandonment despite the fact that she hadn’t been given the opportunity to be either wild or abandoned.

Tarquin studied her calmly and seriously, as he might a painting or ornament that he was considering buying, she thought with a swift surge of indignation, and then he nodded to himself with satisfaction and lightly clapped his hands.

To her astonishment two young men, entirely nude and with copper-coloured skin and strong chest and thigh muscles, hurried out from behind the silk screen at the head of the bed. She wondered how long they’d been waiting there. Tarquin uttered no word of instruction, but they clearly knew what was expected of them and knelt down side-by-side on their hands and knees between Kristina and the mirror.

‘Turn and face me,’ said Tarquin in her ear. She twisted round, and before she had a chance to say a word he’d grasped her by the waist and was carefully lowering her backwards over the men’s backs until they were bearing her full weight. She bent her knees and her toes gripped the pile of the carpet as much in fear as for support, while at the same time her head fell back and she looked upwards to see her own face reflected in the mirror.

She realised that the kaftan had opened wide, leaving her entire body utterly exposed to the tall, impassive man waiting to make love to her for the first time. Her breasts felt almost painfully hard and without thinking she moved her hands to caress them. Tarquin moved with the speed of lightning and she felt her hands gripped in his. ‘No!’ he said firmly. ‘You touch yourself only when I say.’

‘But they ache,’ she complained.

‘It’s all part of the pleasure,’ he assured her. Kristina wasn’t sure he was right. Then, so lightly that she might almost have imagined it, he trailed the tip of one of his fingers over the rigid little peaks of her nipples and she heard her breathing quicken as a muffled moan escaped from her lips.

‘You may make noises now,’ he conceded. ‘My only order is that you do not climax until I give my permission. It would be a pity to rush things at this stage.’

‘But how can I …? I’m so ready to come!’ explained Kristina, all inhibitions gone as she tried to explain the way her body felt. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.’

‘I’ll help you, as it’s your first time,’ he murmured, and then she felt his mouth on her tightly stretched stomach and she jerked upwards at the surge of electricity that coursed through her. He waited a moment for the involuntary spasm to pass and then started to kiss and lick her belly button until the scorching tendrils of pleasure started to build into a heaviness deep inside her, centred somewhere behind her pubic bone and she knew that her climax was approaching.

Tarquin saw her toes start to curl and immediately stopped what he was doing. He lifted his head and Kristina groaned aloud as the delicious sensations slowly ebbed away again, leaving only the ache of thwarted need.

She heard him move, and looking up at her reflection saw that her eyes were wide and frantic, her mouth tight with the sexual tensions wracking her body. When she felt the point of his tongue gently insert itself between the toes of her left foot she cried out with shock, and as his tongue moved firmly up over the tendons of her foot and then in tiny circles around the sensitive ankle bone she began to squirm against the naked backs of the men beneath her.

She could hear herself making strange beseeching noises as the pleasure snaked upwards until it felt as though his tongue was actually lapping much higher, on her inner thighs where the swirls of excitement were making themselves felt, and all at once her abdominal muscles drew in on themselves prior to the sexual release she craved so urgently.

Again Tarquin was alerted by her body’s movements and the tiny gutteral sounds that were issuing from her throat. Once more he stopped, and lazily he let one hand trail up the centre of her body and then round each of the tiny breasts that so aroused him, but he avoided the straining nipples and surrounding tissue.

Finally, when he felt that Kristina could cope no longer, he gripped her upper thighs with his hands and pressed his mouth against her vulva. She felt the pressure on her clitoris and moaned. She could feel sweat running down her forehead and into her hair and tried desperately to stop herself from coming too soon, but now that he was actually stimulating the clitoris, even indirectly, she didn’t think she could handle the situation much longer. Her body’s demands were more insistent than the rules of the society and she felt her sex lips opening to allow him better access to her most sensitive tissue.

As she opened, as the wonderful feminine scent of her filled his nostrils, Tarquin too decided to end the game and with the tip of his tongue he drew a circle round the visibly swollen bud while at the same time he released one of her legs in order to insert two fingers of one hand into her vagina.

At the exact moment that he allowed his tongue to at last touch the side of the shaft of the clitoris he also hooked his fingers up and slowly massaged the little bump that he could feel on the top vaginal wall. Kristina now had the exquisite sensation of her two most sensitive places being stimulated at the same time.

The combination of the deep throbbing excitement caused by the manipulation of her G spot and the searing red-hot pleasure of the cunning use of Tarquin’s tongue against her clitoral shaft sent Kristina into a paroxysm of pleasure that was so intense she almost lost consciousness.

She gave a wild cry as Tarquin lifted his head briefly and whispered, ‘Now you may come.’ Then, as his tongue returned to its amazingly skilled sexual torture she at last gave herself over to her body’s insistent clamouring and her legs clamped around the sides of Tarquin’s head while her belly convulsed in glorious spasms of flooding liquid pleasure that seemed to go on and on for ever.

When the last tremors had died away, and the last uncontrolled muscle spasm ended, Kristina glanced up at her face in the mirror. Her lips were parted, flushed and moist, and her cheeks were equally flushed but for the first time in many weeks she looked relaxed, as though all the tensions and pressures of everyday life had been drained away by the incredible sensuality of the entire evening.

She started to sit up, only to feel a hand pressing on the middle of her chest. ‘Stay there a little longer. I want to touch your breasts,’ said Tarquin.

‘I don’t like them touched after I’ve come,’ retorted Kristina, entirely forgetting that she was still wearing the bracelet.

‘What you do or do not like is secondary to what I like,’ Tarquin reminded her. ‘Or do you wish to remove the bracelet?’

‘No, of course not!’ she said quickly, terrified that the chance of another night like this might be lost to her.

‘Then do as I say.’

Her breasts felt comfortable now, the nipples soft and relaxed. Kristina didn’t want them touched. She always liked to be left alone once she and Ben had both reached their climaxes, and now this man was forcing her to allow him to do something she actively didn’t wish to do.

No, not forcing, she reminded herself. She could remove the bracelet and leave now, with the memory of their loveplay still fresh in her mind, but she wanted more. She wanted to have him inside her, making love to her properly. If that was going to happen then she had to follow the rules and so, reluctantly, she lay where she was and waited for his fingers to touch her breasts.

Tarquin knelt between Kristina’s loosely spread thighs and leant forward over her body. Lowering his head he licked along the undersides of the globes and then drew his tongue upwards towards the nipples, moving from one breast to the other and gradually increasing the pressure of his tongue.

At first Kristina wanted to move away, to stop the irritatingly insistent caress, but slowly she found that her breasts were responding and when his tongue swirled around each of the nipples in turn she was surprised to find that they were definitely responding. Tarquin could see that they were, and he smiled to himself as the little tips stood out more proudly from the soft breast tissue.

When the nipples were at last fully erect he grasped the left one between his thumb and forefinger and then very lightly, using the other three fingers, he scored tiny marks across the surface of her breast.

Kristina drew in her breath sharply. The sensation was entirely new to her, a strange mixture of sharpness and sweetness that made her shiver with desire for more. Tarquin then repeated the process with her right nipple only this time the score marks were fractionally heavier and Kristina moaned with excitement.

Listening to her and watching her body’s responses, Tarquin was greatly encouraged. This, he was sure, was a woman who would be willing to enjoy all the things he enjoyed, who would learn through the rules of the society more about herself than she could otherwise have ever hoped for, and her learning process would give him incredible excitement and hopefully a sharp desire that had been lacking for some time. With her he would cease to be jaded and his sexuality would again recapture some of the freshness of its early days.

Just watching her lying helpless and moaning beneath him drove him half-mad with desire. He wanted to take her now, to enter her moist welcoming softness and allow himself the same blissful release that she’d known, but just as the waiting had made it better for her, so it would for him. In any case, sending her away without having allowed either of them what they both wanted most would be an aphrodisiac in itself. So too would be the knowledge that Kristina, a woman who was used to being in total control, was being forced to accept rules that were, ultimately, designed for her own greater satisfaction.

She was quivering all over now, her body once more aroused and he allowed himself the luxury of one last move before ending the evening. Using the tips of his fingernails again, he daubed a light path through the valley between her breasts, across her waist and then down the middle of her hard, aching belly and by the time he reached the top of her pubic hair she was shuddering from head to foot. Gently he lowered his head and kissed her softly at the very base of her stomach before taking hold of her arms and pulling her upright.

‘Time for you to return home, Kristina. It’s very late.’ He pulled her up to her feet and the two men who’d been bearing her weight in stolid silence for so long stood too and then slipped silently away out through the main door.

Dazed and shaking, Kristina’s head rested against Tarquin’s chest for a moment and she was shocked to realise that he was still fully clothed. Suddenly she felt that she had to touch his skin, had to feel his bare flesh just as he’d been feeling hers and she reached up to unfasten his shirt buttons but he quickly stopped her. ‘Time to go,’ he repeated calmly.

She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay there. Wanted him to continue playing with her body the way he’d just been playing with it. She longed for the feel of his nails on her, of his mouth kissing her between her thighs as he had done earlier, and her trembling body betrayed her need.

‘I thought you preferred to be left alone after a climax,’ he reminded her as he handed over her clothes and removed her kaftan.

‘I thought I did, now I’m not so sure,’ she muttered, pulling on her hold-ups and slipping into the satin body before Tarquin helped her on with the coat-dress.

‘Next time we will try other things,’ he whispered as he bent his mouth to her ear. Then he ran his fingers through her hair in a gesture that was almost possessive, before stepping away from her and holding out his hand.

Kristina stared at him, unable to believe he wanted to shake hands after the extraordinary experience he’d just given her. ‘The bracelet,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘It has to stay here.’

She felt very silly. ‘Yes, of course. I quite forgot! Here.’

As she handed it back to him their fingers touched, and she was able to look him in the eyes as an equal. She saw something stir behind his usual sombre gaze, a flicker of something that could have been surprise or excitement, but she knew that it was something far more intriguing than the indifference he usually portrayed.

‘Lydia will call a cab for you,’ he promised, after he’d taken her back down into the hall. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared into one of the downstairs rooms without another word.

Kristina felt a sharp pang of disappointment as he vanished from her sight. Sensual and satisfying as the evening had been, she’d expected it to end in a different way, never in her wildest dreams imagining that she’d leave his house without them making love. The promise that he’d made about doing other things the next time was reassuring in its way; at least he intended to call her again, but she still wished that he’d allowed things to progress more tonight.

And yet, she admitted to herself, the fact that he hadn’t; the fact that she still had that moment to look forward to, to anticipate at her leisure as she waited for his call, would add to the sexual tension and possibly increase the pleasure of their second meeting.

As a psychologist he’d no doubt worked it all out, she thought, as Lydia telephoned for a cab, and no doubt he was as intent on increasing his own pleasure as hers. She just hoped he didn’t play the waiting game for too long as she was desperate to see his naked body and feel him inside her.

At the sound of a car drawing up outside, Lydia gave her a smile and opened the front door to allow her out. The cab driver turned his head. ‘Where to?’

Kristina opened her mouth to reply, and realised that her mind had gone totally blank. She felt most peculiar, light-headed and unreal, and for a few seconds she thought she wouldn’t be able to answer him. Then just as suddenly as she’d forgotten, the memory flooded back again. Quickly she gave him the directions, ignoring his raised eyebrows.

When she finally got back and started to unlock her front door it was gone midnight. The entire evening’s experience had totally disorientated her and she felt as though she was being forced back into a world that she didn’t like very much. She wasn’t the only one who was unhappy.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ demanded Ben from the lounge doorway. ‘I thought you said you’d be back by eleven at the latest?’

‘I didn’t say anything of the kind. I had no idea when I’d be back.’

He frowned. ‘Of course you did. Lucretia always has to catch the last train from King’s Cross, and that leaves at five minutes past eleven. What happened?’

‘For heaven’s sake,’ snapped Kristina, her thoughts still back in St John’s Wood and her body yearning for the touch of Tarquin’s fingers and tongue on her burning skin. ‘I’m not twelve you know. I can look after myself.’

‘But where have you been?’ persisted Ben.

‘Seeing a lover!’ snapped Kristina.

Ben laughed. ‘Oh, well that’s all right then! Did Lucretia watch or join in?’

Stop it, thought Kristina to herself. Just stop talking now, before you say something you’ll regret. ‘Joined in, naturally,’ she said lightly. ‘Look, I’m really tired. I’ll take a shower and then go to bed. Sorry if I worried you, but she decided to stay in London overnight so there wasn’t the usual rush.’

Ben seemed to accept this quite happily, and a few minutes later Kristina was standing beneath the hot spray, running her hands slowly over the red marks that covered the surface of her breasts. She wondered how long it would be before Tarquin called again.