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‘Definitely not,’ Will said positively.
‘Why not?’
‘You might get bruised and stiff. I think we should do something very, very gentle—during the day.’ His eyes met hers, smiling and suggestive, promising so much.
Her voice strangely husky, and somehow knowing that he would make a good lover, Paris said, ‘So what do you recommend?’
‘Painting, archery. Or why don’t we just play it by ear?’
‘All right.’ Her voice shook a little. ‘We’ll do that, then.’
Reaching out, Will took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘Thank you, my darling.’
It was quite late on Friday afternoon before the jury finally reached a verdict. Paris gave an inner sigh of relief when it was decided at last. All day she had been on tenterhooks in case they lost their weekend together. Will, she knew, had felt the same. Their eyes had often met in exasperation and impatience; to them the verdict was cut and dried and it had been frustrating, to say the least, waiting for everyone else to agree.
They filed back into court, the judge came in and they were asked if they had reached a verdict. The foreman replied that they had and the prisoner stood up. He was a little pale, Paris saw, but there was still a jauntiness in his shoulders, the charming smile clung to his lips, and it came to her that he had the inescapable belief that they would acquit him.
When the verdicts were read out Ramsay changed completely. For a few moments he just stared as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Then he shouted, ‘No!’ and grasped the front of the box.
The policemen on either side of him quietened him as the judge gave sentence. ‘You are an evil and sadistic man, entirely unable to control your emotions, and your vindictiveness finally led to murder. I sentence you to life imprisonment.’
‘No!’ the prisoner shouted again. His face convulsed with fury. The boyish charm disappeared and his inherent cruelty was plain to see as he shouted, ‘I’ll get you for this. All of you!’ His frenzied eyes swept round the court. ‘Every last one of you.’ His finger stabbed out like a stiletto blade at the judge, the officials and then the jury. ‘Curse you, you filthy swine. I’ll make you pay. I’ll cut your throats. I’ll make you beg to die.’
He went on swearing and screaming insults as the guards tried to overpower him and eventually managed to drag him out of the dock and down out of the court. When they’d gone and the door had banged after him, there was a terrible silence, everyone too shocked by Ramsay’s hatred and venom to move or speak. It was the judge who broke it.
Wryly, speaking from long experience, he said, ‘You must take no notice of his threats. You have done your duty and I will make it my concern to see that you are all exempted from further jury service for the next ten years. Thank you for your services. You may now leave the court.’
They did so numbly, as did everyone else: the judge, the barristers and clerks, the public up in the gallery, their ears still ringing with the curses that had been hurled at them.
Will collected his car from a nearby car park and drove Paris to her flat where she packed some clothes for the weekend, then to his place where he threw some things into a bag. Within an hour they were on the road and heading out of London, away from the court and the evils they’d had to listen to for the past month or so, away from the threats and curses that had shattered their peace.
It was quite late before they reached the country hotel where Will had booked a room for the weekend. There was no time even to look around; they were shown to their room and Paris took the bathroom first, showering and changing quickly. Then it was Will’s turn, and immediately he was ready they went down to the dining-room for dinner.
Here, at last, they were able to relax, to enjoy a meal after having had little to eat all day, to drink a bottle of wine which helped to dispel the slight embarrassment that had been forced on them when they’d had to rush to change in each other’s presence but when they weren’t intimate enough for that yet. The meal also helped to ease the tension that Noel Ramsay’s outburst had caused. As Will said, they had more pleasant things to think about.
Looking into his eyes, so warm and expressive, Paris felt her heart miss a beat then fill with the excitement of anticipation, an emotion mirrored in his gaze. ‘What things?’ she asked, being deliberately provocative.
He gave a slow smile. ‘Do you really want me to tell you here and now?’
Again her heart leaped. ‘Yes,’ she said on an unsteady note.
‘All right.’ Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her fingers one by one. ‘We could think of how I’m going to very slowly take off all your clothes and look at you and then tell you how beautiful you are. And about the way I’m going to carry on kissing you like this until there won’t be a part of your body that I haven’t touched and loved. And of how—’
Paris hastily reached out and put her fingers against his lips, silencing him. ‘Don’t,’ she breathed, her eyes wide with awareness, her cheeks flushed. ‘You mustn’t.’
‘Oh, but I must tell you how lovely you are, my darling.’
‘No, I meant…’
‘What? What did you mean?’
Her colour deepened and she looked suddenly shy. ‘I meant that you mustn’t make me feel this way—not here, in public.’
His grip on her hand tightened a little. ‘Tell me how I make you feel.’
She hesitated, then said, ‘So—wanton.’
Will smiled, the pleasure at her answer deep in his eyes. But he said warmly, ‘And wanted too, my lovely one. You know that.’
‘Yes.’ Not trying to hide the desire she felt, she said, ‘I feel that way too.’ And, lowering her free hand below the table, she placed it on his thigh.
He gave a small gasp, her gesture completely unexpected, but then he laughed softly. ‘Now who’s turning who on?’ Putting his hand over hers, he pressed it against himself, then said on a note of strong urgency, ‘Let’s go to bed.’
Paris gave him a demure look. ‘You haven’t finished your coffee.’
‘To hell with the coffee,’ he said emphatically.
His vehemence increased Paris’s excitement; for someone who had been content to take things slowly up to now, he was showing a gratifying eagerness. Slipping her hand from under his, she picked up her own coffeecup. ‘Really? I’m quite thirsty,’ she said teasingly. And she took a deliberately casual drink.
An answering gleam came into Will’s eyes and he looked around as if searching for a waiter. ‘You’ll probably want another cup, then. And perhaps a liqueur. And then we might as well have—’
He broke off as Paris put her hand on his arm. She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. ‘No,’ she said softly but with firmness. ‘I want you to take me to bed.’
Will’s grey eyes filled with warmth and desire. He didn’t ask if she was sure, didn’t fuss; he merely stood up and drew her to her feet with him. They said goodnight to the waiter and he tucked her arm in his, keeping hold of her hand as they walked across to the stairs and up to their room.
He had said what he wanted to do, what he intended to do, and he did start by undressing her slowly, murmuring words of pleasure at her beauty, his lips caressing her skin as he did so. But Paris was shaking with awareness, her breath coming in unsteady gasps that caught in her throat, her hands gripping his shoulders as he bent before her to take off her stockings.
Her pleasure and anticipation were an aphrodisiac too powerful for him to resist; Will’s own breathing quickened and he stood to kiss her fiercely, saying her name over and over against her lips. ‘Paris. Oh, Paris. I want you! Oh, God, I want you.’
The rest of her clothes came off fast, Will’s soon joining the scattered heap on the floor. And then she was lying in the bed and there was no time to look, no time for endearments. She was reaching out to him, her body opening for him eagerly.
The next moment he was over her, taking her with overwhelming passion, lifting her towards the thrust of his body, and groaning out his climactic pleasure. He carried her with him, lifting her to spiralling excitement, to gasping, crying physical fulfilment, and then into the long aftermath of exhausted peace.
Earlier Will had ordered a bottle of champagne to be sent up to the room. It stood resplendent in its ice-bucket, but they hadn’t even noticed it. When they’d recovered a little, when Will had kissed her lingeringly and told her how wonderful she was, he noticed the wine and laughed ruefully. ‘The champagne was supposed to come before, not after.’
‘Were you going to seduce me with it?’ Paris asked, kissing his shoulder.
‘It was in case we needed it,’ he admitted.
‘Idiot.’ She licked his tiny nipple and was amazed to see it harden.
‘Hey,’ he said, bending to kiss her eyes. ‘Have mercy.’
She laughed and reached up to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers. ‘I’m glad we didn’t have a big seduction scene. It was so good as it was.’
‘And will be again, I hope.’
‘Oh, I know it will,’ she said, so emphatically that Will laughed.
‘You’re an amazing girl, you know that?’
‘Why, thank you, kind sir.’ She sat up and pulled the sheet up over her breasts. ‘Why don’t you open the champagne now?’
‘Not if you’re going to cover yourself like that,’ Will said positively. Reaching over, he jerked the sheet from her hold and pulled it down again. ‘This, my darling, is no time for prudery. And besides,’ he added, his voice thickening, ‘you’re much too gorgeous to hide yourself away.’
Kneeling up, he cupped her breasts in his hands, his mouth slowly parting with concentration and growing concupiscence as he watched the rose hue of the areolae darken and the nipples thrust against his exploring fingers. ‘Look how beautiful you are,’ he murmured thickly, his eyes wide with reawakened desire. ‘Can you wonder that I can’t resist you? Look. Look for yourself.’
Slowly, with almost reluctant shyness, Paris lowered her eyes to look at her breasts. His hands, his skin dark against the whiteness of hers, held her tenderly. Her breasts had the firm elasticity of youth, were still small and perfect, and yet they seemed to fill his hands, to fit them perfectly.
As she watched, fascinated now, he moved his thumbs to circle gently the tender area around her nipples, touching nerve-ends, sending fires of frustration deep into her body. She had heard of eroticism, knew that these were among the most sensitive parts of her womanhood, but she had never known such sensual delight as she felt now.
To watch him toying with her, to feel the growing need inside her, to let her panting breath become a long groan of frustration, and to know from the tension in his hands and the sweat on his skin that Will felt the same way was the most exquisitely sexy moment she had ever known.
Still kneeling, as if in adoration, Will bent to kiss her breasts, sending shock waves of sensuality pulsing through her. Throwing back her head, Paris let out a low, animal moan of tormented pleasure. Coming up on her own knees, she held his head against her, crying out with the wonder of it.
Will at last lifted his head and looked at her, his breath an unsteady, panting groan of almost uncontrolled expectation. Paris’s face was flushed with heat, her mouth parted and her lips trembling, her eyes great green pools of eager desire.
‘Paris.’
He said her name again on a note of wonder but she mistook it for a question and said, ‘Yes. Oh, yes, yes!’
Putting his hands on her hips, he drew her towards him, onto his lap, onto his manhood. She let out a great cry and put her arms round him, wanting to be closer and yet closer still, wanting to be a part of him, to take the intense pleasure he gave her and to give in return.
Afterwards they slept exhaustedly, tangled in the sheets, their arms around one another. During the night Will woke her with kisses and they made love again, so that it wasn’t until the morning that they finally got round to opening the champagne and had it with breakfast instead.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_436f8ed9-da56-513d-9ead-7baf3270e18d)
PARIS and Will returned to London on Sunday evening, parting reluctantly outside her flat. Their weekend of love, of satiated sexuality was still in the glow in her eyes, in her flushed cheeks. Emma saw it and recognised it at once.
Her finely arched brows rose. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been considering your verdict all this time?’
‘No, we reached a decision on Friday. I’ve—er—been away.’
‘With a man, obviously.’
‘Yes,’ Paris admitted, unable to keep from smiling.
Emma looked amused. ‘So what was the verdict?’
‘Guilty on all counts.’
‘I meant on the man.’
‘Oh.’ Paris glowed. ‘Marvellous! Fantastic! Incredible.’
‘Good heavens! This man I’ve got to meet.’
There was a slight edge to Emma’s voice, but Paris was too happy to notice it. ‘And I want you to meet him; I’m sure you’ll like each other,’ she said with happy optimism.
She was still happy the next day when she went back to the office, eager to resume her interrupted career. Will was due to work out at the gym that evening and she had lots of chores to catch up on, so they’d agreed not to meet, but they might just as well have done because they spent ages on the phone, already missing each other, whispering words of intimacy that tantalised them both.
The next evening Will came to collect her and she introduced him to Emma, confident that they would like each other. Emma was friendly enough—very friendly really, making Will welcome and telling him, with that amused little smile she had, how Paris had described him. ‘So of course I’ve been really looking forward to meeting a man with all these incredible attributes,’ she finished.
But Will only gave her a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes, refused a drink and asked Paris if she was ready to leave.
‘What did you tell her about me?’ he asked as soon as they were outside.
‘Only that I thought you were wonderful,’ Paris admitted. ‘I didn’t go into details, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘She certainly made it sound as if you had.’
‘Emma was probably teasing you. I wouldn’t tell anyone. You should know that.’ She put her arm through his and lifted a glowing face. ‘It’s very, very special to me.’
Will smiled at that and kissed her, so she knew it was all right, but it was obvious that he didn’t like Emma.
They didn’t go out, instead spending the evening at his flat. Even though they had spent most of the previous weekend making love, it was still novel, still overwhelmingly exciting. Paris felt no shyness now as she undressed Will, doing it slowly, touching and kissing him, running her hands over his broad, smooth chest, along the muscles in his upper arms, so powerful, so male.
His waist was slim and his stomach had the tautness of an athlete’s even when relaxed. But it tightened even more under her exploring fingers; she could feel the tension running through his body, the slow dew of expectation on his skin, hear the quickened beat of his heart. Paris let her hands move on in their exploration, stroking, caressing, until his arousal was complete and Will groaned with pleasure.
He would have taken her in his arms then, but she made him sit on a chair and watch as she took off her own clothes, doing so as coquettishly as she could imagine, watching with growing excitement as he gripped the edge of the chair until his knuckles showed white and he strove to control his need for her, then giving a cry of delight when he could stand it no longer and surged up to grab her and carry her to the bed in one long, eager stride.
Later, Will dragged himself from the bed, dressed, and went out for a Chinese take-away, which took a long time to eat because they kept stopping to kiss and, as Paris was wearing only a bathrobe, quite a lot of caressing went on as well. So it was inevitable that they just pushed the plates away and made love all over again.
Paris was on cloud nine hundred and ninety-nine, but they became rain clouds only a few days later. It was at work that things started to go wrong. During her time with the company Paris had worked hard to find new markets for their products and there were three new accounts that she was particularly proud to have won, having spent a great deal of time and effort in acquiring them.
They were, of course, among the accounts that Emma had been watching over for her during the trial, but when Paris went to contact the companies to tell them that she was back she was informed that they preferred to deal with Emma in future.
When Paris questioned her, Emma was most apologetic. ‘Oh, dear, did they really say that? I kept in contact with them as you asked and I was able to help them over some queries they had. In fact I had to visit all three of the companies to sort out the problems.’
‘Problems? There weren’t any problems.’
‘Well, they must have cropped up recently,’ Emma said with a vague wave of her hand. ‘But luckily I knew everything about the network systems involved so I was able to reassure them quickly. I thought that was what you would have wanted, Paris.’
‘Well, yes, of course, but—’
‘Maybe they realised I was more experienced,’ Emma suggested. ‘They’re new accounts; perhaps it gave them more confidence to deal with someone older. Why don’t you talk to the people involved, explain the situation?’ she suggested. ‘Although, of course, buyers do like to deal with just one person, not be messed around.’ She gave a worried frown. ‘We don’t want to lose the accounts, do we? If we did, the sales director would definitely want to know why. But you must go ahead and explain things to them, of course.’
‘No, as you said, we don’t want to lose them,’ Paris said slowly, reluctantly. ‘As long as it isn’t too much extra work for you.’
‘Oh, I can cope,’ Emma said with a smile. ‘But what a disappointment for you. Still, maybe you won’t care so much now you’re dating Will; you’ll be able to spend more time with him.’
There was that, of course, but Paris went back to her office feeling unhappy and frustrated. Not only were those three accounts the most prestigious that she had won, they were also the most lucrative, and as she was paid only a small basic salary and depended on bonuses to make up her money it meant a considerable drop in income.
If she had been able to go to the Brussels conference she might have generated some more work, but that too had gone to Emma, who, it seemed, had flown the company flag with some success. Paris tried not to be envious, but it was hard not to feel anger at a loss that was no fault of her own. That damn trial! But then she remembered that if it hadn’t been for that she would never have met Will.
Her love affair, at least, was still going strongly. She and Will saw each other as often as possible and she often stayed overnight at his flat. The sex was just as good—better. He didn’t seem as if he would ever have enough of her and delighted in her body, just as she gloried in giving him pleasure.
It wasn’t only the sexual side of the relationship that was good; Will was terrific company and Paris loved just being with him. He had a great sense of the ridiculous, often making her laugh—sometimes even when she was trying to be serious. Life with Will was not only exciting but fun as well.
