Nicola Cornick Collection: The Last Rake In London / Notorious / Desired. Nicola Cornick

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      He had been shaken when he had awoken that morning to realise that he did not want to leave Sally’s bed. He had wanted to stay with her so strongly that the impulse had completely perplexed him. He had never wanted to stay with a woman any longer than it took to say goodbye. But Sally had been warm and soft curled up beside him in the big bed, her body satiated from the passion of their lovemaking. He had found himself holding her as though he never wanted to let her go.

      Somehow he had found the strength to leave, but then he had lost the advantage by spending the entire day thinking about her anyway. He smiled ruefully to himself. He had thought that to take her to bed would drive this need for her from body and his mind, only to find that his desire was more acute than ever.

      Just as disturbing as his unquenched lust was the guilt he felt on seducing an innocent. Jack played the game by the rules and ravishing virgins was not his style. He knew that Sally would say she was as much seducer as seduced, that his scruples were unnecessary, and that she could take care of herself, but he still felt that what he had done was wrong. Perhaps he was more old fashioned and conventional than he had imagined, for despite the fact that he had known her three days, and despite his deep-rooted rejection of marriage, he wanted to do the right thing. His instinct to propose to Sally was very strong and he assured himself it was nothing to do with the pleasure he took in her company, but simply because he had been brought up a gentleman.

      ‘Jack?’ Sally was standing looking at him, her face tilted up towards him, eyes bright with excitement. Tonight she was wearing a gown of deep green silk that seemed to flow fluidly over her body. It was embroidered with flowers and decorated with lace at the neck, a concealment that only served to emphasise the lush curve of her breasts. The night was warm and so she had only a diaphanous shawl about her shoulders. Beneath it her skin gleamed pale and tempting.

      ‘I wondered,’ she said, as the Flip Flap started to descend to the ground again, ‘if you would care to take a swan boat on the lagoon with me before we go back?’

      Jack’s preference would have been to go directly back to the club and take up where they had left off the previous night, but Sally looked so excited and happy, and she caught his hand and pulled him towards the lake. They paused on the white ornamental bridge that crossed the water.

      ‘Such a beautiful night!’ Sally said. She glanced sideways at him. ‘With anyone else I would say that it is a night made for romance, but I remember you telling me yesterday that you do not believe in such fanciful stuff.’

      ‘I do not believe in love,’ Jack said. ‘It is a convenient fiction invented to dress up physical desire.’

      Sally sighed, her gaze on the rippling water. ‘And yet you must have been in love once?’

      ‘It is true that I thought I loved Merle.’ Jack spoke harshly. Her words echoed too closely the painful memories he had been thinking of only moments before. ‘I did love her. It was the single most destructive experience of my life.’

      Sally’s eyes were wide and dark on his face. ‘Why?’

      ‘Because I lost all control and all judgement.’ Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Suddenly he made a sharp gesture. ‘You thought you were in love with your husband when you married, didn’t you? And that could hardly be said to have turned out happily.’

      Sally was silent for a moment. ‘I was young,’ she said. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I expect you did too when you eloped. Everyone makes mistakes.’

      Jack laughed harshly. ‘Not everyone makes mistakes that were as unforgivable as mine.’

      Even though he was turned away from her, he could feel Sally’s gaze on him. She put a gentle hand on his arm.

      ‘Do you ever talk about Merle?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘It was a long time ago. Do you still love her?’

      Jack did not answer, did not know the answer. He had loved Merle passionately and then he had wanted to forget her equally as passionately, but had never been able to escape her memory and her legacy. He was haunted by his guilt over her death and his self-loathing at his own weakness. But he did not want to think about that now. He wanted to wipe out the memory in the passion of Sally’s embrace.

      Sally shivered and drew her shawl more closely about her shoulders as though she could sense his disquiet. ‘Never mind the boat ride,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back,’ and although she did not utter a word of reproach, Jack knew that his abruptness had broken the spell between them.

      He caught her wrist, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her hard, the thrust of his tongue invading her mouth mercilessly, feeling her yield. He felt angry, but was not sure why. All he knew was that he wanted to slake all that anger and pain in Sally’s warmth. His hands held her tightly against him, and he slid one of them from her waist to her breast, feeling the nipple harden against his palm. He eased the pressure of the kiss and heard her catch her breath.

      ‘We cannot do this here …’ Her whisper was shocked and with a rush of awareness Jack realised they were still standing on a bridge in the middle of the lagoon, illuminated on all sides by the brightly coloured lights of the cascade. Anyone could see them.

      He took her hand and pulled her towards the archway that led out into Wood Lane. For the first time he was glad that they had driven there rather than taking the underground. At least the car would afford them some privacy, although it would probably feel like hours until they got back.

      He held the car door for her, started the engine, then slid in beside her into the intimate darkness. He could hear her breathing and feel the powerful awareness that shimmered between them. The complicated anger was still in him, but overlaid with desire. He gripped the wheel of the Lanchester tightly, concentrating solely on getting back to the Strand. If he started to think about making love to Sally he would probably stop and do precisely that in the middle of a London street.

      ‘I don’t understand,’ Sally said. Her voice was soft. ‘I don’t understand how I can feel like this when I barely know you and I don’t understand the devils that drive you.’

      Jack took one hand briefly from the wheel and covered her clasped ones. ‘Don’t think about it,’ he said. There was a rough undertone to his voice. He could sense her gaze on him in the darkness, but he did not dare look at her. If he did so, he would kiss her and then …

      They said nothing more as the car drew up outside the Blue Parrot, but the silence between them was electric. The tension had spun tighter and tighter as the journey progressed and now that they had finally got to their destination the anticipation was almost choking him. This time Jack picked Sally up and carried her through the main doorway and up the stairs, under the astounded gaze of Alfred the doorman and various assorted and scandalised guests who were milling around in the entrance hall. Sally struggled, one of her pretty little sequin-encrusted evening slippers coming off and bouncing down the steps.

      ‘Put me down!’ she hissed. Her face was pink with indignation. ‘Everyone can see!’

      Jack smiled down into her face. ‘So?’

      ‘You are doing this to the benefit of your own reputation and think nothing of mine,’ Sally said.

      Jack put her on her feet gently on the soft carpet at the top of the stairs. ‘Too late, my sweet,’ he said. ‘Everyone already believes you to be a racy and outrageous СКАЧАТЬ