At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) (17 page)

They settled into their seats in the packed auditorium and waited, as people filled the theatre, for the show to start. Finally, the lights went down and Ginny fidgeted in her chair in anticipation. She glanced at Mark’s profile, strong and defined in the shadows. The slight frown which he had worn since leaving the restaurant was being smoothed away with an imperceptible smile on his lips. Despite his cool attitude to everything, she could see that even he was looking forward to the show. She grinned as the auctioneer on stage revealed the giant chandelier and the ominous descending organ notes of the theme tune thundered about the theatre. Ginny relaxed in her seat with contentment, her foot tapping along to the tune.

*

Refreshed and with her head filled with the music, Ginny and Mark stepped outside into the dusky evening after the show. As they waited for a taxi, Ginny leant up and kissed Mark on the cheek. He turned, smiling, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘Thank you,’ she grinned. ‘I’ve had a lovely evening.’

‘It’s not over yet. Come on, here’s one.’ Stepping forward he hailed a passing cab then held the door open for her.

‘Where are we going?’

‘My place.’

A little tense, Ginny sat beside Mark in the back of the taxi as it threaded its way through the London streets. His words had made her a little uneasy, although she was silly to think it, she scolded herself. She attempted an inward laugh – perhaps the darkness of the musical they’d just seen was rubbing off on her. It was just the way he had said it wasn’t over yet though, that made her feel that now he had wined, dined and musicalled her, he was taking for granted what would happen when they got to his flat.

Well, he was entitled to, wasn’t he? Ginny reasoned with herself. By agreeing to stay with him in London, neither of them were expecting her to sleep on the couch so it was only natural to expect they sleep with each other. For a moment Ginny asked herself why she felt so nervous, when it should be the most natural thing to do, but she pushed the thought away before she had time to come up with an answer.

*

Mark snapped on the lights as he led the way into his flat and Ginny looked around her. It was open plan and very minimalist, which didn’t surprise her, with a definite masculinity about it that left you in no doubt that a bachelor lived here. Mark took her coat and hung both of theirs on a coat stand behind the door.

‘Come through while I get us a drink. You can see a bit more of the place.’

Ginny followed him through to the kitchen past the lounge in which long black leather settees with clean-cut corners surrounded a square metal and glass coffee table and a very wide plasma television. The immaculate white walls were bare except for a couple of large black and white photographic pieces of art. Before Mark closed the stainless steel fridge after retrieving a bottle of champagne, Ginny glimpsed the contents inside. It was full of healthy food, neatly stacked on the correct shelves. Ginny wondered what Mark would say about hers and Sally G’s fridge which was bursting with everything from chocolate to Chinese takeaways. She doubted whether tomato sauce lying on its side in the egg shelf or tubs of low-fat yoghurt in the vegetable section was quite right. Reluctantly, Ginny admitted Mark’s fridge was just
boring
. At least if you were feeling peckish at home, you could always be guaranteed of finding something unexpected in the fridge. Mark handed her a flute of champagne, and she resolved this should be the last one for tonight. This must be her fifth glass. Ginny watched Mark loosen his dark grey tie and release his shirt’s top button and she was amazed at the difference this small casual adjustment to his appearance made. She couldn’t recall ever seeing Mark without his tie done up and she had to admit the sight wasn’t unattractive. Armani were missing one of their best models. He leaned back against the granite worktop opposite her and smiled.

‘What?’ Ginny asked.

‘Nothing. You just look out of your comfort zone, that’s all.’

‘You’ve got a lovely place here,’ she said, gesturing around her.

‘Not quite like Sally G’s.’

‘No, that’s for sure. But then Sally G’s place is in Newmarket where she has me, Kerry and the cats tramping through the rooms the whole time. You keep this place very…
smart
.’ Ginny almost said clinical, but thought that might not sound much like a compliment.

‘I have a lady come in to clean twice a week.’

‘How many bedrooms?’

‘Two double and a study. Come through and have a look.’

Carrying her champagne aloft, she tracked Mark’s lead down a hallway. Opening the first door wide, he switched on the light and stood aside to reveal a tidy guest bedroom, with a crease-free double bed and tasteful dressing table and bedside tables.

‘Guest bathroom next door. Office opposite,’ Mark said, continuing on but making no attempt to show her either of these. ‘Master bedroom at the end.’

Using a dimmer switch, he lit the room until it was bathed in soft dusky lighting. Ginny found herself in a vast bedroom with a king size bed and built-in cupboards. A brass-handled door led off to the left to what was presumably an en-suite bathroom.

‘Very spacious,’ Ginny said, searching for a nice way to describe the room. It was just too sharp and pristine for her taste, and a bit of colour wouldn’t have gone amiss. Mark set his drink down on a chest of drawers and took Ginny’s away from her too. A fleeting thought of drink rings passed through her mind before Mark’s arms folded around her, and she tasted the champagne on his mouth.

Edging her dress off her shoulder, he gently kissed her collarbone and the base of her throat. With a practiced hand, he undid the zip on the back of her dress, brushing the straps down her arms until it fell in a soft heap around Ginny’s feet, leaving her naked except for her strapless silk bra and knickers.

‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he muttered.

With shaky fingers she slid his tie undone and started on the buttons of his shirt. After taking a few seconds too long with the first one, Mark took over, deftly flicking them open. He shrugged it off, revealing a broad chest. Ginny slid her fingers through the sparse covering of golden hair and pressed herself closer to him, breathing in the heat of his body.

With more urgency, Mark snapped open his belt and rid himself of the last of his clothing. Splaying his fingers, he traced Ginny’s ribcage before slipping his strong arms around her and unhooking her bra.

Ginny sucked in a lungful of air and gripped his forearms as he lowered his mouth to her bared breasts. It had been so long since she had felt this close to a man and her body was responding like a ship-wrecked sailor to fresh water. Her eyelids drooped with desire as Mark trailed kisses and soft caresses of his tongue over her hardened nipples and down her stomach. A low moan escaped from her throat as he slid her knickers to the ground, then straightening up, pressed himself against her. Ginny felt the burning heat of his erection against her stomach and hesitantly reached out to hold him.

‘Oh, Ginny,’ Mark groaned.

‘Is that okay?’ she said, still a little unsure.

‘God, yes.’ He ran his hands over the curves of her waist, then gently pushed her back towards the bed. He threw back the duvet and lowered her down on the silk sheets.

Ginny’s nerves lessened as her body reacted to his touch. She pulled his head down as he lowered himself on top of her and kissed him deeply, allowing him to nudge open her thighs with his hips. Any reservations she held were relinquished as his lips and practised hands coaxed her body to greater arousal, and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more teasing, he leant over the side of the bed and opened his bedside drawer to retrieve a packet of condoms.

Feeling bolder, Ginny completed the task, amazing herself at her brazenness as she stroked lingering fingers over his cock. Then running her fingers fleetingly over his hard abdominal muscles and up to his shoulders, she pulled him down towards her.

Chapter Eighteen

Ginny’s first waking thought was that of unfathomable guilt. She wasn’t quite sure why. There wasn’t anything wrong with sleeping with Mark. It wasn’t as if it was their first date. She glanced across to him and was surprised to find an empty bed. Rising, she opened a cupboard and took out one of Mark’s shirts, slipping it over her head still buttoned up. With her hand on the bedroom door knob she paused as she heard Mark’s voice. She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying but his tone wasn’t a happy one. She stood for a few seconds, his voice becoming more audible as it rose in volume.

‘That was sixty grand we lost, dammit! …Five grand? That’s hardly a consolation, is it? This is the second time this month… of course you can help it! If you don’t think you’re going to pull it off, then tell me!’

Ginny turned away from the door, feeling guilty for eavesdropping. Trying to warn him that she was up and giving him the opportunity to end his conversation, she made as much noise as one possibly can when getting up in the morning, flushing the loo, washing her face with hot water, wagering a noisy geyser would kick in, and closing the door firmly as she left the bedroom. As she reached the end of the hallway, she heard the light smack of letters hitting the front door mat and made a detour before heading for the kitchen. Picking up the small haphazard pile of envelopes, she idly read the top one, addressed to Mr M. Wolfe.

Telephone conversation obviously finished and already re-composed, Mark was in the kitchen, dressed in white boxer shorts, showing off his muscular torso. With an appreciative expression on his face, he surveyed her up and down as she entered the kitchen. Overcome with shyness, she looked down at her scarlet toenails and felt like a guest on her best behaviour. The fact that she had slept with her host didn’t make things any easier.

‘Post,’ she said awkwardly, holding up the bundle and putting it on the counter. Mark swaggered towards her, holding her waist and pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

‘Thanks. I’ve never seen my shirt look quite so attractive. Nor have I ever received a bill with such pleasure,’ he murmured. He kissed the tip of her nose and drew back to look at her.

Ginny batted her eyelashes.

‘Coffee? Tea?’ he offered.

‘Coffee, please.’

Mark turned away to prepare her drink and Ginny glanced at the letter again. ‘Who’s M. Wolfe?’

‘Who?’ he said then nodded in recognition when Ginny motioned to the post. ‘Some guy who used to live here, I guess. I get mail for him every now and then. Help yourself to toast,’ he said, pointing to a stacked silver toast rack on the breakfast counter. ‘There’s cereal in that cupboard up there if you prefer.’

Ginny smiled her thanks and took a slice.

‘What time do you have to be back in Newmarket?’ he asked as he poured fresh coffee from the percolator into a glass mug.

‘I’ve got Raccoon running in the two-fifteen and Kenya in the three-fifty, so I’ve really got be back by half eleven. What’s the time now?’

‘We’ve got plenty of time. Don’t rush.’

Thinking of his earlier telephone conversation, a sudden thought occurred to Ginny.

‘Are you still going to be able to come to the races?’ If there were problems at work, Mark was usually on top of them right away.

‘Of course,’ Mark smiled. ‘You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.’

‘No. I didn’t mean – I meant that –’ Ginny stuttered but was silenced by Mark pulling her against him.

‘Shush, angel,’ he murmured, and bent to kiss her.

Ginny placed her toast and trembling mug of coffee on the table before she dropped them and draped her arms around his neck. With her body giving the green light, Mark didn’t hesitate and swiftly lifted her up on to the counter. The granite worktop was icy cold and Ginny sucked in her breath then giggled at Mark’s amused expression.

‘Last night I saw you in a completely different light,’ he said, running his hands over the curves of her waist. ‘And now with the sun shining, I intend to see you in another light.’

Ginny closed her eyes as he undid the buttons on her makeshift dress and slid it down her shoulders.

‘We can’t be late, Mark,’ she mumbled. ‘I have to do declarations.’

‘Don’t worry,’ he soothed, a sly smile on his lips. ‘You’ve got plenty of declaring to do and all will be done in time.’

*

Once Mark had dropped Ginny at Sally G’s gate, she hurried inside to shower and change. She arrived at the racecourse just in the nick of time to declare her horses and went in search of Kerry and Alex.

She found them in the saddling area, doubled over with laughter at some story Alex was regaling, attracting looks of curiosity from both human and equine passers-by.

‘And where’ve you been, missy?’ Alex said, feigning a headmaster’s voice as Ginny joined them.

‘None of your business,’ Ginny replied. ‘How are Raccoon and Kenya?’

‘Don’t change the subject. Come on, spill.’

‘I’m not changing the subject. I went to the theatre with – a friend last night in London. You knew that, Kerry.’ Ginny really didn’t want to talk about it with this morning’s escapades still very fresh in her mind.

‘Yes, but we want details,’ Alex said without shame.

‘Will your friend be coming to watch his horse run this afternoon?’ Kerry said perceptively.

‘If you mean Mark, then yes, he’ll be along later.’

‘It was him though, wasn’t it?’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘Oh, come on, Ginny,’ Kerry laughed. ‘You’ve got guilt written all over your face!’

‘It might have been him, yes,’ Ginny confessed.

‘
Might
have been? God, that sounds even more loose,’ Alex said.

‘Okay, okay. It
was
him.’

‘Ha! You owe me a tenner, Alex Napier!’

‘You were betting on me?’ Ginny exclaimed.

Alex and Kerry grinned like naughty children. From behind her, Ginny heard a harrumph and turned to see Julien Larocque glaring at her. She wondered how much of the conversation he had heard, but by the looks of it, the whole thing.

Too late now, she thought with a twinge of regret. The Frenchman walked on without saying anything or even nodding a greeting and Alex whistled softly.