Barbara Taylor Bradford – Three Weeks in Paris (страница 3)

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?’

‘I do.’

‘Can you?’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous, of course I can. Feel this.’ Taking hold of her hand, he put it on him under the duvet. ‘See what you do to me. And I’ll always be ready to make babies with you, darling.’

‘Then stop boasting and let’s do it!’ she exclaimed, sliding a leg over him, kissing him on the mouth. ‘Let’s do it all night, in fact. It’s one of the things I love to do with you, Jack.’

‘Don’t you want dinner?’ He raised a brow.

‘Oh, who cares about food when we’ve something so important and crucial to do.’

He started to laugh. ‘I care. But we don’t have to venture out, my sweet. I brought dinner with me. In the shopping bag.’

‘Oh, so you planned all this, did you? Very devious, you are, Jack Wilton. You wicked, sexy man. I might have known you came here to seduce me. To impregnate me.’

‘Seduce you! What a bloody cheek! You’ve just displayed the most incredible example of splendid cooperation I’ve ever come across. As for impregnating you, you can bet your sweet ass I’m going to do that.’

They began to roar with laughter, hugging each other and rolling around on the bed, filled with hilarity and pleasure in each other, and the sheer happiness of being young and alive. But after a moment or two of this gentle horseplay, Jack’s face turned serious, and he held Alexandra still. ‘You’re not going to change your mind, are you, Lexi?’

‘’Course not, silly.’ She touched his cheek lightly, smiled seductively. ‘Shall we get to it then…making babies, I mean.’

‘Try and stop me–’ he began and paused.

The shrilling of the intercom startled Alexandra, and nonplussed she stared at Jack. Then she scrambled off the bed, took a woollen dressing gown out of the wardrobe, and struggled into it as she ran to the foyer. Lifting the intercom phone, she said, ‘Hello?’

‘FedEx delivery for Ms Gordon.’

‘Thanks. I’ll buzz you in. I’m on the fourteenth floor.’

The carbon copy of the original label on the front of the FedEx envelope was so faint she could barely make out the name and address of the sender. In fact, the only part she could read was Paris, France.

She stood holding the envelope, a small furrow crinkling the bridge of her nose. And then her heart missed a beat.

From the doorway of the bedroom, Jack said, ‘Who’s it from? You look puzzled.’

‘I can’t make out the name. Best thing to do is open it, I suppose,’ she replied, forcing a laugh.

‘That might be a good idea.’ Jack’s voice was touched with acerbity.

She glanced across at him swiftly, detecting at once a hint of impatience…as if it were her fault their lovemaking had been interrupted by the FedEx delivery. But wishing to keep things on an even keel, to placate him, she exclaimed, ‘Oh, it can wait!’ Dropping the envelope on the small table in the foyer, she added, ‘Let’s go back to bed.’

‘Naw, the mood’s gone, ducks. I’m gonna take a quick shower, make a cuppa rosy lee, then start on dinner,’ he answered her in a bogus Cockney accent.

She stood staring at him, biting her lip.

Observing the crestfallen expression in her eyes, Jack Wilton instantly regretted his truculent attitude. He softened, pulled her towards him, embraced her. ‘I’m sorry, I was a bit snotty, Lexi. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Okay?’ His eyes held hers, a brow lifted quizzically. ‘Don’t you see, I was put out…and you know why. I was all ready to make babies.’ He grinned, kissed the tip of her nose. ‘So…’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Let’s go and take a shower together.’

‘I guess I ought to open–’

He cut her off. ‘It’ll wait.’ Taking hold of her hand, he led her across to the bathroom and into the shower, turned on the taps, adjusted the temperature, held her close again as the water sluiced over their bodies.

Alexandra leaned against him, closed her eyes, thinking of the envelope she had left on the table. She was beginning to worry about it, anxiety-ridden and tense inside. She could well imagine who it was from. It could be only one person. And the thought terrified her.

But she was wrong.

A short while later, when she finally opened the envelope it was not a letter inside, as she had misguidedly believed, but an invitation. Her relief was enormous and the anxiety instantly dissipated.

She sat on the sofa in her living room, staring at it, and a smile broke through, lighting up her face. Leaping to her feet, she ran across the room to the kitchen, where Jack was cooking. ‘Jack, it’s an invitation. To a party. In Paris.’

Jack glanced up from the bowl of fresh tomatoes he was stirring, took a sip of his tea, and asked, ‘Who’s the party for then?’

‘Anya. My wonderful Anya Sedgwick.’

‘The woman who owns the school you went to…what’s it called again? Ah yes, the Anya Sedgwick School of Decorative Arts.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And what’s the occasion?’