“Yeah, ’fraid so.”
“I’m Martina. And you’re Jeff Baker.”
“That’s right. So what do you research?”
“Research?”
“You were at the dinner. The awards are for working scientists.”
“Oh no.” She laughed. “I’m a production assistant for Thames News. I just lucked out being here tonight.”
“How is that luck?”
“The start of Lacey’s campaign. No offense, but we wouldn’t normally give the awards this kind of coverage, not even with you here.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would.”
“Do you want to dance?”
He saw Lucy Duke heading back with the determination of a hunter on the scent, the deputy chief in tow. “Sure.”
21. HOME NOT QUITE ALONE
AFTER MONTHS ON THE WORKBENCH, and several tests to fine-tune the engine, the Jet Ski was finally ready for its first outing. Transport was a problem. Colin and Martin and Simon had been the main helpers, and of course they had their girlfriends they wanted to bring along; and there were others in the crew like Philip and Sophie who couldn’t really be left out. Then there was the Jet Ski itself, which was an awkward size. Simon’s uncle’s long-base Land Rover could just fit it in, but that didn’t leave any room in the back for people. It was going to be quite a motley convoy of vehicles heading for Tallington Lakes.
Tim was glad when Annabelle turned up early at the manor on the Saturday morning. He was in the kind of subdued, sulky mood that only she could cure.
“How are you coping?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“Really?”
Tim was twisted up by two conflicting urges. He badly wanted to look at her today of all days, because she was wearing a very narrow black T-shirt that had YES! AND THEY’RE FULL OF BEER, TOO printed over her breasts, the sight of which made him feel incredibly randy. Yet there was an instinctive impulse to hold back and avoid talking to her about how he felt because of the turmoil in his mind. He just couldn’t understand what was going on with his father.
At least three news stream gossip reports had shown the video of Martina Lewis coming out of the Knightsbridge flat at half past seven in the morning, still wearing her purple evening gown. It wasn’t a very clear image; somebody had copied it from one of the street’s security cameras. But it did show his father in a bathrobe, standing on the doorstep to kiss her good-bye before she hopped into a taxi. All the reports had given the hyperlink for Ms. Lewis’s life site, where she had added the latest paragraph about how much fun Jeff Baker was, and how the rejuvenation team had done such a good job, in every department.
Life at the manor had been pretty much unbearable after that.
“Not bad, I suppose,” he said with a shrug.
“Have they been arguing? I remember my parents arguing a lot when Mum got her job in Brussels.”
“A bit. Not arguing. Just cold with each other. Mum was furious, I mean so much angry.” He’d never actually seen her so livid before. It was sort of scary, especially when the rest of the Rutland nonworking mothers club rallied round. They’d held several late-night vodka sessions in the living room, discussing the merits of men. Tim had overheard just part of one conversation and slunk on up to bed praying they hadn’t seen him.
“Well, that’s hardly surprising,” Annabelle said. “He is her husband, and he got caught red-handed.”
“Yeah,” Tim said meekly. He really didn’t want to go into his parents’ private lives, at least not what had gone on before with his mother and everything, or rather everyone. He found it hard to see why she was so bothered about Dad having an affair. The publicity, yes, but the actual act…“I don’t know why he did it, though. He and Mum had been getting on really well since his treatment. I mean so much well.”
“Ah,” Annabelle said wisely. “Well, that Martina looked quite fit, and your dad was away from home.”
“For one night. And Mum’s a lot better looking than she is.”
“Way of the world, Tim.”
“It might be, but it’s pretty shitty.”
“Your dad’s a celebrity, probably the most famous person in Europe after Lacey and Sir Mitch. Certain kinds of women are bound to fling themselves at him. Would you have said no to Martina if she’d asked to go to bed with you, if she’d pleaded?”
This time he looked straight at her. “Right now, yes. I don’t want to go to bed with her, or anyone else. Just you.”
“Ah,” Annabelle murmured. There was a long moment as they just stared at each other. Then she kissed him, which turned into quite a passionate embrace.
“I so much want to go to bed with you,” Tim moaned as if he was in pain.
“I know.”
“Why can’t we? I love you. I so much do.”
“You’re so sweet.” Her tongue delved down into his throat. She could feel his hands sliding up her stomach. His desperation was actually quite a turn-on. Being desired and adored so un-questioningly was immensely satisfying. “Wait.” She leaned back from him, nearly laughing at the anguish on his face at the separation. “Watch this,” she teased. Her hands went up inside her T-shirt, moving around to the clip on her bra strap. Then, shrugging out of the shoulder straps, she pulled the bra out.
Tim’s delight at seeing her breasts pushing against the T-shirt’s thin cotton was slightly checked by his amazement at the Houdini bra trick. “How did you do that?”
“Haven’t you ever seen it before?”
“Er, no.”
She moved back up to him, and brushed her lips against his. “You’ve been going out with the right kind of girls.”
“You mean, the wrong kind.”
“No. I’m the wrong type.” Grinning dangerously, she pulled the T-shirt up. For a moment she thought Tim was going to faint.
“God, Annabelle,” he whispered. “You are so sensational. I mean, they are fantastic.”
Annabelle giggled, and took hold of his hands, bringing them up so he could cup her breasts. His fingers closed around her stiff nipples.
“Hey, they don’t come off, you know,” she said.
“Sorry.” Not that he let go, just eased off slightly. His deliriously happy expression never wavered.
“Lick them,” she growled. “I like that.”
Tim’s tongue slid out as he obediently lowered his head. She let out a little moan of pleasure at the shock of his hot wet tip touching her sensitive areola. He moved from one to the other. Her hand reached for his belt. She was getting so hot she probably would have sex with him this time, even though she was sure he wouldn’t match up to Derek.
They both heard someone pounding along the landing outside.
“Tim!” Martin yelled. “We’re here.”
“Fuck!” Tim snarled.
Annabelle quickly pulled her T-shirt back down.
Martin barged in, a wide, happy smile on his face. “I’ve got the Land Rover parked outside, I’m sure there’s enough room for…” Which was what everyone wanted. So he wasn’t expecting Tim to be staring at him like a pre10 slasher film psycho whose next victim has just arrived. “You okay?”
Tim shivered as if he’d been caught in a blast of icy air. “Sure. Just so much copacetic right now, thanks.”
“What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Annabelle said. She ignored the way Martin’s eyes bugged as he looked at her chest. “Is everything ready?”
Martin nodded enthusiastically. “Er, yeah. Colin’s downstairs; Simon’s borrowed an e-trike, he’s taking Rachel; and Vanessa and Sophie are going to catch the bus out there. They’re bringing the food.”
“Great,” Tim grumbled.
“Let’s go then.”
Tim gave Annabelle a long, woeful look, then picked up his bag. “All right, we’ll get loaded up.”