Three Weeks in Paris. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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      A few seconds later Jack Wilton, bundled up in a black duffle coat, and carrying a large brown shopping bag, was swinging out of the lift, walking towards her down the corridor, a grin on his keen, intelligent face.

      ‘Sorry if I’m mucking up your working day, but I was around the corner. At the Cromer Gallery with Billy Tomkins. It seems sort of daft to go home and then come back here later. I’ll sit in a corner down here and watch CNN until you quit.’

      ‘I just did,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ve actually finished the last panel, Jack.’

      ‘That’s great! Congratulations.’ As he stepped into the small foyer of her apartment he put down the shopping bag, reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and, stretching out his leg, he pushed the door closed with his booted foot.

      He hugged her tightly, brought her closer, and as his lips brushed her cheek, then nuzzled her ear, she felt a tiny frisson, and this shivery feeling ran all the way down to her toes. There was an electricity between them that had been missing for ages. She was startled.

      Seemingly, so was he. Jack pulled away, glanced at her quickly and then instantly brought his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, passionately. After a second, he moved his mouth close to her ear, and murmured, ‘Let’s go and find a bed.’

      She leaned back, looking up into his grey eyes, which were more soulful than ever at this moment. ‘Don’t be silly.’ As she spoke a small, tantalizing smile touched her lips and her sparkling eyes were suddenly inviting.

      ‘Silly? There’s nothing silly about going to bed. I think it’s a rather serious thing.’ Throwing his duffle coat on the floor next to the shopping bag and putting his arm around her, he led her into the bedroom.

      He stopped in the middle of the room and taking hold of her shoulders he turned her to face him, stared into her eyes, his own questioning. ‘You went missing for a bit,’ he said, sounding more English than ever.

      She stared back at him, said nothing.

      He tilted her chin, leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘But I have the distinct feeling you’re suddenly back.’

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘I’m glad, Lexi.’

      ‘So am I,’ she answered.

      He smiled and led her towards the bed without another word. They sat down together side by side, and he began to unbutton her shirt; she tugged at his tweed jacket, and within seconds they were both undressed, stretched out on the bed.

      Leaning over her, he asked, ‘And where was it that you went?’

      ‘Not sure. Fell into a deep pit with my work, I suppose.’

      He nodded, understanding, since he was an artist and tended to do the same at times when he was painting. But he had really missed her, and her withdrawal, her remoteness had worried him. Now he brought his mouth down to her, his kisses tender.

      Alexandra felt that frisson once more, and she began to shiver slightly under his touching and kissing. He continued to kiss her as he stroked her thigh, and she experienced a sudden rush of heat, a tingling between her legs.

      Unexpectedly, she stiffened. Swiftly, he brought his mouth to her mouth; his tongue sought hers, slid alongside hers, and they shared a moment of complete intimacy.

      And all the while he did not stop stroking her inner thigh and the centre of her womanhood, his fingers working gently but expertly. To him it soon seemed as though she was opening like a lush flower bursting forth under a warm sun.

      When she began to gasp, he increased his pressure and speed, wanting her to reach a point of ecstasy. He loved this woman, and he wanted to bind her to him, and he wanted to make love to her now, be joined with her.

      With great speed, he entered her, thrusting into her so forcefully she cried out. Sliding his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her up, drew her closer to him, calling out her name as he did. ‘Come to me again, come with me, come where I’m going, Lexi!’ he exclaimed, his voice harsh, rasping.

      And so she did as he demanded, wrapped her legs around his back, let her hands rest lightly on his shoulders. Together they soared, and as he began to shudder against her, he told her over and over again how much he loved making love to her.

      Afterwards, when they finally lay still, relaxed and depleted, he lifted the duvet up and covered them with it, then took her in his arms. He said against her hair, ‘Isn’t this as good as it gets?’

      When she remained silent, he added, ‘You know how good we are together…’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You’re not going to go away from me again, are you?’

      ‘No…it was the work, the pressure.’

      ‘I’m relieved it wasn’t me. That you weren’t having second thoughts about me.’

      She smiled. ‘You’re the best, Jack, the very best. Special…unique, actually.’

      ‘Ah, flattery will get you everywhere.’

      ‘I’ve just been there, haven’t I?’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘Everywhere. With you…to some wonderful place.’

      Pushing himself up on one elbow, he peered down at her in the dim light of the fading day, wondering if she were teasing him. Then he saw the intensity in her light green eyes, and he said softly, ‘Let’s make it permanent.’

      Those lucid green eyes he loved widened. ‘Jack…I don’t know what to say…’

      ‘Say yes.’

      ‘Okay. Yes.’

      ‘I’m talking marriage,’ he muttered, a sudden edge to his voice. He focused all of his attention on her, his eyes probing.

      ‘I know that.’

      ‘Will you?’

      ‘Will I what?’ Now she was teasing him and enjoying doing so, as she usually did.

      ‘Will you marry me?’

      ‘Yes, I will.’

      A slow, warm smile spread itself across his lean face, and he bent into her, kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. Resting his head next to hers on the pillow, he continued, ‘I’m glad. Really so bloody glad, Lexi, that you’re going to be mine, all mine. Wow, this is great! And we’ll have a baby or two, won’t we?’

      She laughed, happy that he was so obviously delirious with joy. ‘Of course. You know what, maybe we just made one.’

      ‘It’s a possibility. But to be really sure, shall we try again?’

      ‘You mean right now?’

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