David said, ‘Have a nice evening, you two. See you later.’
Finding her voice at last, Camilla exclaimed, ‘But David, where are you going?’ and she was furious with herself as she heard the shrillness in her voice.
‘I have a date,’ David replied, winking at her. ‘Enjoy yourselves.’ With a nonchalant wave of his hand he was gone, disappearing through the French doors.
‘It looks as if we’re on our own, kid,’ Maxim said, bestirring himself from where he stood near the balustrade, walking towards her slowly, his brilliant smile intact.
FIFTY-TWO
‘I’ve been set up!’ Camilla said fiercely. ‘You and David set me up. That’s not fair. In fact, I resent it.’
‘No, you don’t, you haven’t got a resentful bone in your beautiful body,’ Maxim said, his smile full of warmth as he sat looking at her across the small table on the terrace. ‘And it’s not the way it appears, truly it isn’t, Camilla.’
‘Which way is it then?’ she asked crisply.
He was silent, and then he pushed himself to his feet, offered her his hand. She took it automatically, without thinking, then flinched inside at his touch, instantly aware that he had the same devastating effect on her as always. Clamping down her feelings for him, she stood up, allowed him to lead her over to the balustrade at the edge of the terrace.
‘What do you see out there?’ Maxim asked, looking down at her.
‘Nothing unusual,’ she replied, sounding slightly puzzled, her eyes scanning the garden. ‘Lawns, trees, flowers.’
‘Beyond the garden… look towards the sea.’
She followed the direction of his gaze, and exclaimed, ‘Oh! It’s your boat, isn’t it?’
‘Ship,’ he corrected with a faint smile. ‘Yacht, to be exact. And yes, it’s Beautiful Dreamer. I was cruising the Med with a few friends, and Stubby had the bright idea of sailing over to see our dear old chum David. As a surprise, so to speak. We finally got here late yesterday, dropped anchor out yonder.’
Maxim waved his hand in the direction of his yacht, and continued, ‘Stubby telephoned David last evening, to announce our arrival. And, in typical Stubby fashion, invited us all over here for lunch today. Only to be told, in no uncertain terms by David, that we couldn’t come for lunch. Because you were his house guest and he didn’t want you upset.’
There was a small pause. Maxim’s gaze was very direct as he finished, ‘Upset by my presence, to be precise.’ A mirthless little laugh escaped him, and he added as an afterthought, ‘David did call Stubby back to say that I shouldn’t take offence.’
‘Did you?’
‘Not really. But it brought me up short, made me start to think. I realised I did owe you an apology, Camilla.’
‘Is that why you’re here?’
‘Sort of.’
‘What does that mean?’ Camilla probed, eyeing him, all of her senses alerted for trouble. Swiftly she raised her defences. This was the most lethally attractive man she had ever known. Furthermore, she had been in love with him for years. He could quite easily be her ruination. She must be on her guard against him.
Maxim made no response to her question.
In a little while, he said slowly, his voice soft, contrite, ‘I am sorry, Camilla, very sorry. I behaved badly towards you, and certainly you didn’t deserve to be treated in such a cavalier manner. It was very wrong of me.’
When she remained quiet, he asked, ‘Do you accept my apology?’
‘Yes.’
Maxim flashed her his lopsided smile, full of charm. ‘Then let’s kiss and make up.’
‘Oh no!’ she cried. ‘No kissing.’ She shrank back, held out her hand. ‘Let’s shake and make up.’
Unable to hide his amusement, he laughed, took her hand in his, shook it rather formally, then unexpectedly he bent his head, kissed her fingers.
The touch of his mouth on her skin unnerved her, and she snatched her hand away, stepped over to the table, reached for the glass of champagne he had poured for her earlier. She endeavoured to conceal her panic, said in a voice pitched unnaturally high for her, ‘If David was so adamant about you not upsetting me, then how on earth did Stubby talk him into letting you come over here this evening?’
‘Stubby had nothing to do with it,’ he said, moving closer to her. ‘I phoned David from the yacht early this morning. I told him I wished to see you. I explained that I owed you an apology, that I also wished us to be friends again. And so he suggested I stop by at seven-thirty. For drinks.’
‘He agreed as easily as that?’ she asked incredulously, thinking that David was obviously a pushover.
‘Not at all. He was very tough with me. In fact, I had to do quite a lot of talking, persuading. But he finally gave in.’
Oh yes, Camilla thought, you can be very persuasive when you want to be. As I know only too well. But she said, ‘I still feel as if I’ve been well and truly set up by the two of you.’
‘Please don’t, Camilla. And don’t be angry with David. That lovely man is genuinely very fond of you, and he thought he was doing the right thing. He really did mean well, as, indeed, do I.’
The glance Camilla now gave him was cool, appraising. ‘When I asked you a moment ago if you were here to apologise you said sort of. I’d like to know what you actually meant by that remark.’
‘Of course you do. Look here, Camilla, I didn’t come here only to apologise. I wanted to see you again, talk to you, and have dinner with you.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t!’ she cried, that sense of panic washing over her once more. ‘Quite aside from the obvious reasons, I happen to know that dinner has been prepared for me. I’m dining here. Alone.’
He merely smiled at her indulgently.
Maddened, she said in a cold voice, ‘Anyway, hasn’t it occurred to you that I don’t want to have dinner with you?’
Ignoring her question, he remarked evenly, ‘David arranged for the cook to prepare couscous. It’s one of my favourite dishes, and it has been for years. I used to eat it at the El Djazier in the Rue de la Huchette in Paris.’ He smiled at her again. ‘We’re both dining here, actually.’
She took a step backwards, wanting to put distance between them. Glaring at him, she snapped, ‘I was right! You did set me up.’
***
It was obvious to Camilla that David had been a willing conspirator with Maxim. As if the villa and the gardens were not beautiful enough in themselves, David had gone out of his way to make the setting even more perfect.
He had arranged for them to dine in the garden by candlelight, where they were served by Aly and Menoubah, his butler and housekeeper. As soon as it had grown dark, just before dinner, Aly had turned on the hidden spotlights, so that the fountains, orange trees and flower beds were illuminated, thrown into prominence in the most spectacular way. The garden became a magical place. Aly had also turned on the sound system, and romantic music, selected by David earlier, played softly in the background whilst they dined.
The circular table had been set up near a cluster of eucalyptus trees at the edge of the lawns, which swept down to the dark sea, silvered now by moonlight. It was a breathtaking kind of evening, the dark-blue sky clear, cloudless, full of stars, the air warm, heavy with the scent of jasmine.
Aly kept filling her crystal goblet with cold white wine, and as she sipped it Camilla found herself starting to relax. She discovered that she was not particularly hungry, ate only a few forkfuls of couscous now and again, picked at her green salad.
Against her will and her better judgement, she was falling under Maxim’s spell once more, mesmerised by his charisma, and seduced by his charm, his hypnotic voice, his looks and his immense warmth. Having been in love with him for half of her life, since she was twenty-five in fact, she was extremely vulnerable to him anyway. His presence overwhelmed her. There was nobody like him really, and she found herself laughing at his stories, listening to him attentively, and enjoying being with him, swept up by the force of his
personality and magnetism.
He was so outgoing with her, so open and honest, that at one moment during dinner Camilla was on the verge of asking him why he had disappeared from her life so abruptly in January. But inevitably she refrained. She was afraid of his answer, did not want to hear it. For she was not sure she would be able to handle it, if he said it was because he was still in love with Anastasia. This thought brought her up short, and she reminded herself that she had vowed earlier not to succumb to his charms. But there was no denying he was at the top of his form this evening. He dazzled her. And so when he kissed her lightly on the cheek, after she had made him roar with laughter about something, and then when he lifted her hand from the table, kissed her fingertips, she did not pull away or protest.
But much later, over the tiny cups of strong, sweet coffee which Aly made, Camilla looked at him carefully in the candlelight, shrewdly assessing him and his motives. He was here for a reason, not just to apologise, talk to her and dine.
After a very long moment, as he returned her gaze unblinkingly, she said, ‘What do you want?’
‘You.’
‘For how long?’
‘Tonight. The next two weeks… whilst I’m in these parts.’
‘And then?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘At least you’re honest, Maxim.’
‘I want to be honest with you, Camilla. Nothing less would do for you. Not now. Well? Give me an answer.’
‘I want you too, I won’t deny it. But… I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t be fearful. I promise I won’t hurt you again.’
‘You will hurt me if you make love to me, engage my emotions, then go off and leave me.’
He was absolutely silent. Not a muscle moved in his darkly handsome face.
She held herself quite still.
They stared at each other, wanting each other. They recognised this in each other’s eyes.
‘I won’t be your mistress,’ she said softly.
‘I know that,’ he answered, his voice as soft as hers. Pushing back his chair, he rose. ‘Let’s go for a walk through the gardens,’ he said, then helped her up out of the chair.
He took her hand, guided her across the grass, and she allowed herself to be led by him. She felt as if she had no will power as far as Maximilian West was concerned. He stopped walking suddenly, and, putting a hand on her bare shoulder, he turned her to face him, stared down into her face, touched it lightly with his fingers.
‘You’re so lovely, Camilla, and I want you so very, very much. But I won’t force myself on you. It’s your decision.’
‘I want you too, Maxim,’ she whispered.
He leaned into her and kissed her very lightly on the lips, and immediately pulled away. ‘Shall we go in?’
Camilla could only nod.
***
Maxim locked the bedroom door, turned around and leaned against it, staring at Camilla, holding himself in check.
She had walked in ahead of him and stood in the centre of the floor, as unmoving as a statue, caught in the corridor of brilliant moonlight streaming in through the open window.
His chest tightened as he continued to look at her. She was a very beautiful woman, a typical English rose because of her colouring, serene and ladylike in her demeanour. But underneath that facade of gentility she was earthy, sensual, very sexual. It was these contrasts in her which turned him on, started the fire racing through his blood, filled him with excitement. The first time he had made love to her he had instantly understood that she had a strong sexual drive, therefore the power to excite him over and over again.
In the three months they had been together last year, she had satisfied him completely every time they had made love, in a way no other woman ever had except for Anastasia, who was lost to him. He pushed aside the thought of his wife. Ex-wife. To dwell on her now would be disastrous. If he carried an image of Stassy across the room, he would be rendered impotent, useless to Camilla. He had not come all this way searching for her, wanting to bed her, to rekindle their liaison, only to flounder because of a power failure on his part. Frustration was the last thing he needed. He had lived with that for the last six months. And, if he was correct in his assessment of her, so had she. Camilla was not a promiscuous woman, and he was certain there had been no other man in her life since him.
‘Oh darling…’ She spoke softly, holding him with her intense gaze, taking a step forward. Desire for him spilled out of her eyes.
He threw his jacket on a chair, loosened his tie. This followed the jacket and he began to swiftly unbutton his shirt as he walked across the room towards her.
When he came to a standstill in front of Camilla he smiled faintly, then slowly unwound the long chiffon scarf wrapped around her neck, let it fall to the floor, took the silver combs out of her hair, so that it cascaded around her face.
Touching the bodice of her strapless dress, he said softly, ‘Take this off.’
Unzipping it, she let it drop to her feet, stepped over it and into his arms, her bare breasts pressed against his bare chest.
Maxim kissed her lightly on the lips as he had a moment ago in the garden, before bending to kiss her breasts. They were small, rounded, taut and high, a young girl’s breasts, and he kissed them fleetingly, led her over to the bed. Pushing her down onto it, he leaned over her, removed her shoes, threw them to one side, and slipped off her grey lace panties. He unfastened her suspenders one by one, carefully slid each stocking down her leg, one after the other.
Her eyes did not leave his face.
He said, ‘I’ve thought of you constantly, wanted you constantly. For months. I don’t want to rush it now.’
‘I feel the same,’ she whispered. Her heart was beating at an excessive rate, and she trembled inside. The heat was rising in her as it never did with any other man. Only with Maxim West. He merely had to glance at her to excite her. The manner in which he was removing her underwear, so delicately, so slowly, drove her crazy, heightened her desire for him. She closed her eyes, curbed the moan of desire rising in her throat, not wishing to break the tension mounting in him, in them both, by making the slightest sound. I want you now, she thought. At once. Immediately. Now. Take me. I love you. I love you. Maxim. Maxim. I’ve only ever loved you. All my life. I’ve only ever loved you. Take me. Take me. The words repeated themselves over and over in her head, like a Bach fugue, endlessly, endlessly repeated themselves.
He had been caressing her body; he stopped, moved away from her. She heard him walking across the tiled floor, opened her eyes swiftly, saw him unzipping his trousers. He stood near the chair, undressing rapidly. She watched him closely, sensually savouring every contour and line of his body: the wide shoulders, slender hips, long legs. Naked, he walked back to the bed, and to her. Her heart missed a beat when she saw how excited he was.
Maxim lay down next to her, took her in his arms, kissed her deeply, his warm mouth enclosing hers. She felt his soft, sweet tongue on hers, and she seemed to draw his breath into her deeply as they clung together.
Camilla lay against the cool sheet, luxuriating in the pleasure of him. She had vowed she would never let him near her again. Now she wondered why she had ever made that vow. This was all that mattered really. Making love with each other like this, his mouth on hers, his hands on her body. He had lovely hands. They were sensitive, gentle, fluttering over her, touching her breasts, moving down over her thighs, seeking and loving that most secret part of herself.
She opened her eyes, watching him as he kissed her stomach, her thighs, his lips grazing her gently as they moved on, finally came to rest where they always did. His hands were fluttering once more, joining with his lips to pluck at the kernel of her womanhood, bringing her to climax, and quickly so, as he knew how. But once the trembling started she tried to hold back.
‘Don’t fight me,’ he whispered, lifting his head for a moment, looking at her intently. And so she allowed him to do what he wanted with her, let herself g
o, felt herself flowing out to him. And no longer able to restrain herself, she cried out in her passion, pleasure and excitement, ‘Maxim! Oh Maxim!’
He took her swiftly, fiercely, moving into her hard. As he thrust himself forward, her body arched to his and her arms encircled his broad back. He slid his hands under her body, lifting her closer and higher to him… higher and higher, and she flung her legs around his waist, welded herself to him. They moved together in perfect unison.
Every one of Maxim’s senses was clamouring for her after months of longing to hold her in his arms like this. Sex with her was pure pleasure. Suddenly he had the need to possess her completely; he must drive her on to that point of physical ecstasy which he was swiftly climbing to himself. He pushed his body against hers, moving faster and faster at an accelerated rate and she took his lead, quickening her speed to rise and fall with him.
Their passion exploded around them suddenly. She cried his name again, but he made no sound at all as he abandoned himself to her and fell down into oblivion.
***
Later, as they lay side by side on the bed, Maxim raised himself up on one elbow, looked down at her, moved a strand of golden hair away from her face.’ Would you have been upset if Stubby and I, and our friends, had landed on you for lunch today?’
‘Yes, I would. But I could’ve handled it. And none of you would have known how I felt. I’m a good actress, you know.’
‘Not good… great.’ He kissed her nose. ‘But you haven’t been acting for the last hour. This was real.’
‘It was.’
‘I wasn’t acting either.’
‘I know you weren’t.’
Maxim hesitated, said, ‘You don’t have to believe this, but I haven’t slept with another woman since you. Not since we broke up in January.’
Slightly startled by this admission, she said, ‘I believe you. What would be the point of lying to me now? But why not?’