Contract with Consequences (7 page)

She fell silent once more till John showed her into the apartment, at which point she stared at him again, shaking her head at the same time. ‘You really are very rich, aren’t you?’

‘Rich enough.’

‘For what?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t have to work for the rest of my life if I don’t want to. Though of course I will.’

Again she shook her head. ‘This place must have cost a small fortune.’

‘Not quite that much. I bought it off-plan a few years ago.’

‘Did you choose the furniture?’

‘Lord, no. I have absolutely no taste whatever in that regard. I had it professionally decorated and furnished. Would you like to see the rest of it?’

‘Yes, please.’

Scarlet quickly noted that the same colour palate had been used throughout the whole apartment, ranging from white, to white with a greyish tinge, to various shades of
grey right through to black, splashes of turquoise brightening up what could otherwise have been a dull decor. Which no doubt was why the designer had chosen glass surfaces for the various tables in the living area, to lift the heaviness of the black leather sofas and chairs.

Scarlet loved the circular glass dining table—which was set in a hexagonal-shaped alcove—and had a large turquoise ceramic bowl sitting in the middle. She even loved the dining chairs, which were black leather on chrome frames. The kitchen was spectacular, the stainless steel appliances and turquoise splashback set off beautifully by black cupboard doors and white stone benchtops which had grey flecks in it. The three chrome-based stools which were tucked neatly under the breakfast bar had turquoise leather saddle-seats which had to have been specially made.

The two guest bedrooms were similarly sized and furnished, with queen-sized beds, white lacquered furniture and white shag rugs on the floor, though the bed linen was different. One had a rather masculine black, grey and white striped quilt set whereas the second one was more feminine, a white background with turquoise flowers on it. That bedroom also opened out onto the front balcony, unlike the other one. The main bathroom, situated between the two guest bedrooms, was all white with silver taps and trim, and the loveliest, thickest turquoise towels. Scarlet was rather particular when it came to bathrooms and could find no fault anywhere in that one.

When she commented on how spotless everything was, John informed her that he had the apartment serviced every few days when he was in town.

‘Housekeeping,’ he added, ‘is not my forte.’

Scarlet didn’t imagine that it would be. He was a man’s man, with an outdoors job and outdoors hobbies such as surfing and camping.

The last room John showed her was the master bedroom, which blew her away even more than the kitchen. The black quilt on the king-sized bed contrasted beautifully with the white lacquered bedhead and side tables. The bedside lamps were exquisite, with chrome bases and exotic black shades which had crystal drops hanging from the bottom edges. Two rectangular white shag rugs were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed and a huge flat-screen television was built into the wall opposite the foot of the bed.

Scarlet suddenly saw herself sitting stark naked in that decadent-looking bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows whilst John was doing unimaginable things to her. It was a struggle not to blush once again—something which she seemed to be doing a lot in John’s presence. Somehow, she made some innocuous compliment and took refuge by thoroughly inspecting the oversized walkin wardrobe, before moving onto the black marble
en suite
bathroom where everything seemed to have been built for two. A spa bath
and
a shower. She couldn’t look at either without once again picturing herself in there, naked again of course, with an equally naked John doing even more unimaginable things to her. And not under any covers.

Once again, heat zoomed into her cheeks.

Thankfully, her back was to John.

‘You’ve gone rather quiet,’ he said from just behind her. ‘Is there something wrong?’

By the time she turned around, Scarlet had her blushing under control. She even managed a polite smile. ‘Not at all. This place is lovely, John.’

‘But …?’

‘But what?’

‘I was sure I heard a “but” in there somewhere.’

Scarlet decided to take the bull by the horns in an attempt
to defuse the nervous tension which was building up inside her. ‘I was wondering if you expected me to join you in here tonight.’

In spite of his earlier plans, John was tempted to say
yes, by God, of course I am
. But he could see that she wasn’t ready. She was way too tense for him to achieve what he wanted to achieve, which wasn’t just satisfaction for himself but satisfaction for her.

‘I thought you’d be too tired,’ he said, doing his best to ignore his body, which shouted in protest.

She smiled. A rather odd smile, but a smile nevertheless.

‘When I’m nervous about something, I like to get it over and done with as soon as possible.’

‘There’s no reason for you to be nervous.’

Scarlet laughed. ‘You have no idea.’

‘I have no idea about what?’

Her face twisted into a grimace. ‘I should have told you earlier.’

‘Told me what?’

‘I think I might be a little bit frigid.’

John’s surprise must have shown in his eyes, for Scarlet looked away from him. ‘This is so embarrassing,’ she choked out.

He deliberated for a moment, then reached out to take gentle possession of her chin and turn her face back to his. He doubted very much that she was frigid—he’d seen passion in her too many times.

‘Let’s just take this one step at a time,’ he said softly, his eyes holding hers. ‘You like to be kissed, don’t you? When you’re with a man you’re attracted to, that is.’

She blinked, then nodded.

Scarlet thought he was going to kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead, he released her chin then lifted his hand to rub two of his fingertips back and forth along her lower lip, before
tracing the full circle of her mouth over and over. Soon, her lips were tingling, her heart was pounding madly in her chest and she was
dying
for him to kiss her. Her mouth fell open as she struggled for breath, her tongue drying as she sucked in much-needed air. At which point he finally did what she craved: removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips.

It was a kiss such as she had never experienced before. Perversely restrained, but incredibly exciting. He cupped her face as he gently caressed her swollen lips, till a frustrated moan escaped her throat. Only then did he deepen the kiss, his lips applying more pressure, holding her lips far enough apart for his tongue to slide into her mouth.

Scarlet’s head whirled. She could not think straight. Neither did she care. All she wanted was for John to keep on kissing her.

But he didn’t.

She made some sort of protest when his mouth lifted abruptly from hers. A moan. A groan. She could not be sure which.

When she stared up at John she saw that he didn’t seem at all rattled.

‘I take it then,’ he said coolly, ‘that you find me attractive?’

Her stare became a glare. ‘You’re an arrogant bastard, John Mitchell.’

His smile widened. ‘And you’re incredibly beautiful, Scarlet King.’

She pursed her lips in defiance at the involuntary pleasure his compliment gave her.

‘You’re also not even a little bit frigid.’

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed frustratedly. ‘You really are the most annoying man.’

‘But an attractive one,’ he reminded her with a perfectly straight face.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. ‘Whatever am I going to do with you?’ she said without thinking.

John’s eyebrows arched, his eyes twinkling suggestively.

Scarlet’s own blue eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you dare say another thing. Now, I’m going to go unpack in one of the guest bedrooms. I’d love the one with the turquoise flowers, if it’s okay with you? Meanwhile, I don’t suppose there’s any food about?’

‘Unfortunately, cooking is not my forte either,’ he returned. ‘So the best I can offer you is takeaway for tonight. But I know lots of local Asian-style restaurants who’ll deliver within half an hour. What would you prefer? Chinese? Thai? Vietnamese?’

‘I’m not fussy,’ she said. ‘You choose.’

‘Thai it is, then,’ he said as they both turned and walked back into the living room. ‘Join me back in here when you’re ready. I bought some snacks and some wine in anticipation of your visit.’

Scarlet almost told him that she didn’t usually drink much; that she’d just been upset that day. But she didn’t want to bring up the subject of her ongoing failure to conceive a child. For a while there, she’d forgotten about that. She’d forgotten to ring her mother as well. Oh dear.

‘I’ll have to ring my mother first before I do another thing,’ she said, feeling terribly guilty. ‘Let her know I’ve arrived safely.’

‘Fine. You do that. I’ll go ring the restaurant. And Scarlet …?’

‘What?’

‘You can relax; I promise I won’t be making you to do anything you don’t want to.’ His mouth curled up in a wicked smile. ‘Not unless you beg me, anyway.’

A
WORRIED
Janet King jumped to answer the phone as soon as it rang, relief flooding through her when she saw it was her daughter’s mobile number on the display. She’d always hated flying and had been tense all afternoon at the salon, especially when the estimated time of arrival of Scarlet’s flight had come and gone without a call. She’d been glad to come home where she didn’t have to make polite conversation and where she could show her agitation by grumbling at the news reader on the television. Her nerve-endings were still strung out as she swept the receiver up to her ear.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Scarlet said before she could utter a word. ‘You can relax now. The plane didn’t crash and I’m safely at the hotel.’

‘I wish you’d rung me from the airport,’ Janet said plaintively. ‘I’ve been worried sick.’ The words were barely out of her mouth when she regretted them. She hated mothers who talked like that to their adult children. It put them in a terrible position.

Scarlet smothered a sigh. ‘Sorry. I thought I’d wait till I got to the hotel so that I could tell you about it.’

‘I’m the one who’s sorry, darling. You’ve gone up there for a rest and here I am, putting guilt trips on you already. I promise not to keep on being a pain. Or to expect you to
ring me all the time. But, yes, I would like to know about the hotel. Is your room nice?’

Scarlet moved over to sit on one of the huge black leather sofas, amazed at how soft and comfortable it was. ‘Very,’ she said as she leant back into its squashy depths. ‘Has all the mod cons and a view of the harbour.’

‘You never did tell me how much you paid for it.’

Scarlet winced at the lies she’d told, both directly and by omission. She hadn’t realised how awkward things could become. ‘Actually, I didn’t just book a room, Mum. It’s an apartment.’

‘Goodness! It’s not like you to be so extravagant, Scarlet, except perhaps when it comes to clothes. Not that I’m complaining, mind. You deserve some spoiling after all you’ve been through.’

It was ironic that, right at that moment, John came into the living room carrying a frosted glass of white wine which he handed to Scarlet, who mouthed, “Thank you,” before lifting the glass to her lips. She had a feeling she was going to need a drink or two before this night was out.

‘You’ll have to send me some photos of the place,’ her mother added.

Scarlet took a sip of the deliciously chilled wine whilst wondering how she could avoid doing that. Perhaps she could just send photos of the view, the guest bedroom, half the main bathroom and about a quarter of the humungous kitchen. But not right now.

‘Can I leave that till tomorrow morning, Mum? I’m pretty bushed tonight. I just want to have a shower and go straight to bed.’

‘Without eating anything?’

‘I won’t starve, Mum. There’s a small stock of essentials in the kitchen,’ she said truthfully. John had shown her the floor-to-ceiling pantry. ‘It’s lovely. There’s even a complimentary
bottle of very good white wine in the fridge.’ She raised her glass in a toast-like gesture to John who’d settled himself on the sofa adjacent to hers. He smiled back whilst stretching his long arms along the back of the sofa, looking ridiculously sexy.

A distracting thought. It reminded her of an explicit image she’d briefly entertained last week. It was difficult for her mind not to dwell on her fantasy, when she would soon become extremely intimate with the real thing.

Though not tonight…

Was she really relieved about that?

Scarlet could not deny that, whilst she was still nervous about going to bed with John, she no longer felt afraid of it. Perversely, she was almost looking forward to it. A man who kissed as well and as imaginatively as he did would surely be a good lover. Gosh, he really did have a great body.

When she felt in danger of ogling him again, Scarlet reefed her eyes away and focused firmly on her conversation with her mother.

‘So how did you cope today without me?’ she asked.

‘Fine. Though none of the other girls are a patch on you when it comes to colour. I suspect a few of your clients will wait till you come back before getting theirs done again. Still, you’ll only be gone ten days. It’s not an eternity. I’m sure they’ll survive.’

‘I’m sure they will. I’d better go now, Mum. I keep on yawning. I’ll give you a call again tomorrow night.’

‘I’d like that. You can tell me what you’ve been up to all day.’

Scarlet swallowed, then glanced over at John. Would he want to make love in the morning, in broad daylight? Or would he wait till tomorrow night?

‘I … er … I doubt I’ll be doing too much tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I might just walk around the city and get my bearings. Do a little shopping for food. I don’t fancy going out to restaurants on my own so I’ll probably cook.’

‘Sounds nice. Night night, darling. Love you.’

‘Love you too, Mum. Bye.’ After she hung up, Scarlet took a deep swallow of the wine before glancing over at John.

‘Mothers!’ she said with a mixture of exasperation and affection.

‘They mean well,’ he replied.

‘But?’ Scarlet prompted with a wry little smile. ‘I’m sure I heard a but in there somewhere,’ she added, echoing the words he’d used earlier.

His smile carried amusement. ‘I think you’re the witty one here, Scarlet, not me. But, no, no buts. Mothers will be mothers, no matter how old their children get. You just have to learn how to circumnavigate their tendency to cling and control without their knowing how much you hate it.’

‘But I don’t hate it,’ she said. ‘Not the way you do. I think of my mother’s concern for me as caring, not clinging and controlling.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Not all mothers are equal. Yours, I have to admit, is especially nice.’

‘So is yours.’

‘True. But mine is married to my father.’

Scarlet tipped her head slightly to one side as she searched his face. ‘I’ve always wanted to ask you why you hate your father so much. I mean … I know he’s not the happiest of souls but he’s still your father.’

‘Please don’t go down that road, Scarlet.’

‘What road?’

‘The third degree road.’

‘I was just curious about the relationship between you and your father. I have no intention of asking you a whole heap of questions about your life.’

‘Good. Because I have no intention of answering them,’ he growled as he crossed his arms in a belligerent fashion.

Scarlet added ‘defensive’ and ‘secretive’ to John’s list of personality flaws, along with arrogant and rude.

‘Charming,’ she muttered.

‘No. I’m actually not at all charming,’ he admitted drily. ‘I’m exactly what you called me earlier—introverted and antisocial.’

Scarlet’s blood pressure began to rise. ‘For pity’s sake, let’s not go down that road, either!’

‘And what road is
that
, might I ask?’ he snapped.

‘The back-to-the-future childish road, where we fight all the time and end up spoiling what I came up here for. Trust me when I say I no longer wish to know the ins and out of your life story. I know I originally said I did but I’ve changed my mind on that score. I don’t give a damn where you’ve been all these years, what you’ve done or who you’ve slept with, safely or otherwise. I also don’t give a damn how bloody rich you are. All I care about is whether this works and we can actually make a baby!‘

She was still glaring at him several seconds later when the beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of his tightly pressed lips. Before long he was smiling broadly at her.

‘You always were good at tongue lashings.’

Scarlet refused to smile back at him. She was still way too angry. Instead, she took another gulp of wine. When it went straight to her head, she realised she really needed to eat something. And soon.

As if on cue, the buzzer to the apartment’s security
system went off, indicating that someone required entry to the building. Hopefully, it was someone delivering the Thai food.

‘Saved by the bell,’ John quipped and stood up. ‘That should be dinner,’ he said as he walked to the front door where he flipped a switch on the wall console and asked who it was.

‘Dinner delivery for John Mitchell.’

‘I’ll come down and get it.’

Scarlet sat and worried a little about the future while he was downstairs, then decided she had to stop thinking. She drained her glass, then went out to the kitchen where she refilled from the opened wine bottle she found in the fridge door and returned to sit, sipping in silence, as she waited for John’s return.

He arrived with some delicious-smelling containers.

‘Let’s go eat this in the kitchen. Unless of course you want me to set the dining table?’ he added.

‘I don’t think we have time for that,’ Scarlet said when she stood up and the room spun round. ‘If I don’t eat something in the next five minutes, I’m going to become seriously tipsy.’

‘On one glass of wine?’

‘I refilled whilst you were downstairs.’

‘You drunkard, you!’

‘Stop mocking me and go serve up that food!’

‘Can you make it to the kitchen on your own or do you want me to carry you?’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘I think I can make it that far alone.’

‘What a shame. I’ve always wanted to sweep you up into my arms.’

‘You liar, you!’

He sighed melodramatically. ‘Oh, Scarlet, whatever am I going to do with you?’

‘Hopefully, you’re going to feed me.’