One Man's Mistress: One Night with His Virgin Mistress / Public Mistress, Private Affair / Mistress Against Her Will. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ kind of gap year—while I decide what I want to do.’ She decided not to mention the novel. It seemed pretentious to do so while it was still in such an embryonic stage. ‘And how’s the world of law?’

      ‘It has its moments.’ He paused. ‘I’m probably going to specialise in tax. That seems a reasonably lucrative field.’

      ‘You don’t want to defend master criminals?’

      ‘That always sounds more glamorous than it really is.’ He shrugged. ‘And, on the whole, they deserve what they get.’ He signalled for the dessert menu. ‘Did you know my parents are deserting Cranscombe too? They’ve sold the cottage and are buying a place in Portugal—warmer climate and masses of golf.’

      ‘Oh.’ She looked at him, startled. ‘So if you hadn’t come to the office today, I might never have seen you again.’

      The moment she said it, she could have bitten out her tongue. Oh, God, she thought despairingly, she couldn’t have given herself away more blatantly if she’d taken all her clothes off in front of him.

      She felt the mortified colour rising in her face and wanted nothing more than to get up and run out of the restaurant. Only to find her hand taken, her fingers caressed very gently by his.

      ‘Even worse,’ he said, ‘I might not have seen you either. Shall we celebrate our fortunate escape from disaster with some tiramisu?’

      Over coffee, he suggested that they should meet again on Saturday evening—go to the cinema, perhaps, or a club, forcing Tallie to explain, her voice husky with disappointment, that she had an extra job, which she couldn’t afford to lose.

      Yet he didn’t seem offended at all. He suggested instead that they meet for lunch on the river and afterwards go walking.

      ‘The best way to see London is on foot,’ he told her. ‘And I can’t wait to show it to you.’

      In a way, she was almost relieved, because she’d seen Josie and Amanda dressed—or undressed—to go out to dinner, or clubbing, and knew that her current wardrobe simply couldn’t cope. That becoming Gareth’s girlfriend could take some living up to and she might even have to raid her precious savings account.

      She floated back to the office on a cloud of euphoria, almost unable to believe that she was going to see him again. That he wanted to spend time with her. So lost in bliss, in fact, that it never occurred to her to question why this should be.

      And Saturday afternoon passed like a dream. Gareth was extremely knowledgeable about the capital—knew all kinds of interesting places and fascinating stories, and she listened, rapt.

      He told her about his job too, and the other barristers in his chambers, and about his own flat-share with a couple of university friends, waxing almost lyrical about how terrific Notting Hill was—great ambience, great restaurants.

      It was clear that city living appealed to him far more than the country ever would. That he didn’t regret the cottage at Cranscombe one bit, and this saddened her a little.

      However, the only really awkward moment came when they were about to part and she realised he was going to kiss her, and she was so nervous—so unpractised—that it turned into little more than an embarrassing bumping of noses and chins.

      She spent the whole evening mentally kicking herself at the memory. Telling herself that she should have kept still as he’d bent towards her, closed her eyes, smiling, as she raised her mouth to meet his. That he couldn’t possibly know she’d only been kissed three or four times before, and generally because it had seemed rude to refuse.

      And that Gareth’s had been the first kiss that should have—would have—meant something.

      Well, next time—and he’d arranged to see her on the following Saturday too—she would be prepared, and she would make sure that she was much less inept.

      She spent the whole week in such a state of anticipation that reality was almost bound to be an anticlimax. Yet it started well—a glorious spring afternoon—and this time it wasn’t so much of a guided tour because Gareth suggested that they went strolling in Hyde Park. It seemed full of couples. They were everywhere Tallie looked—young, happy people, walking hand in hand, sitting close on benches—always looking at each other, always touching—even lying on the grass wrapped in each others’ arms, oblivious to all but themselves.

      And she found herself moving nearer to Gareth as they walked, longing for him to take her hand or put his arm round her. That she wanted to be part of a couple too—half of him, with all that it would mean. Something she’d never contemplated before—or even desired …

      But a sideways glance told her this seemed unlikely. He was gazing into space, not at her, seemingly lost in thought, even frowning a little.

      She tried to keep her voice light, to recapture the almost intimacy of the previous week. ‘A penny for them.’

      ‘What? Oh, I see.’ He hesitated. ‘I was thinking about something we could do. That maybe we might …’

      Her heart almost stopped. What was he going to say—to suggest? That the Park was too public and they should go back to—his place? Oh, please, she thought. Please, let it be that. Because even if nothing happened, and she knew it was far too soon—that she should be ashamed of herself for even thinking that, it went against every principle she’d ever had—at least it would show that he was beginning to consider her as part of his life. That she mattered to him.

      It would prove, if nothing else, that he wanted her to meet his friends, maybe drink some wine, and, later, go out for a meal, even if she wasn’t strictly dressed for it. She tried to think of an excuse she could give Andy at the wine bar for not working that evening—the first time she would ever have let him down.

      He went on, ‘I was going to say that tea at Fortnums would be nice.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Lovely.’ And tried not to feel disappointed. Reminded herself that it was still early days and the fact that he didn’t want to rush her into anything was a good sign. A sign that he respected her. And a warning that she must let things develop at their own pace.

      She was still thinking that as they walked up Piccadilly. As they reached Fortnums and paused at the door because someone was coming out.

      ‘Natalie,’ Josie said, ‘I didn’t know you could afford places like this.’ She turned, self-assured and smiling, to look at Gareth. Tallie watched her eyes widen, her gaze become fixed. There was a pause—a count of a few heartbeats—then she said, ‘And who’s this?’

      ‘Gareth Hampton. A—a friend from Cranscombe.’

      ‘Goodness,’ Josie said lightly. ‘And to think I used to go out of my way to avoid the place.’ She smiled. ‘Well, friend from Cranscombe, I’m Natalie’s cousin, Josephine Lester, and I bet she hasn’t told you about me either.’

      ‘No.’ Gareth’s voice sounded odd, almost hoarse. ‘No, as a matter of fact, she didn’t.’ He was staring at her too, his face set, almost stunned.

      Tallie had the oddest impression that the pair of them were locked into some kind of exclusion zone—surrounded by a barrier like a force field which she would never be able to penetrate. It was such a strong impression that she almost took a step backwards.

      She СКАЧАТЬ