Chances & Choices (8 page)

Looking at the woman in front of her, Stella wondered where the attraction lay.
 She was certainly beautiful, but Stella found her slightly insipid.  How Richard had failed to manage her amazed her.  But then, Richard had made the mistake of becoming obsessive.  No doubt about it he was right; she had talent.  Perhaps something imperceptible to herself smouldered beneath that smooth exterior.  But that was really immaterial to her purpose.  Stella pushed the thoughts from her mind and returned to the business at hand.  Having anticipated Claire's doubts, she had planned on how to deal with them.

"Take advantage?
 Really, Claire, you would hardly be doing that.  I'm sure the reason he doesn't give interviews is because he's suspicious of the treatment the reporter might use.  He’s a great choice because he spans both our lifestyle focus of film and fashion given his marriage."  She sat back preparing to completely destroy Claire's arguments, "And isn't he launching an entirely new line?  The publicity could only help, and he needn't have to worry about the approach with you writing the article."

 
"Me!"  Claire sat upright.  "Oh, I don't think so, Stella.  Greg would probably be a better choice."

"Don't be ridiculous, Claire, I wouldn't dream of insulting you by giving our cover story to a junior writer."

"Under the circumstances, I'd understand.  Greg could be objective.  Julian and I have known one another so long, I doubt if I could be."

"That's just it, I'm not striving for objectivity.
 We need an angle and you have the perfect angle - an insider’s perspective.  The readers would love that, especially the younger women, and isn't that to whom his new line is directed?”  She picked up a pencil, holding it between the index finger of each hand. “I believe you even knew his late wife."

"Oh no, we never met.
 I saw them together once at a party, about two years before I met Julian and a little under a year before she died; but we were never introduced."  Claire's look was far away, remembering that scene.  A quiver ran through her as the memory revealed to her Julian's tenderness and how much he was capable of loving.  She looked at Stella without really seeing her.  "They were very much in love."

"Yes, I hear it was quite the romance.
 He was considerably younger than her and it was rather tragic.  Although, it was a long time ago and he seems to have recovered."

Claire flushed, suddenly aware of the woman's implications.
 Oh hell!  What did she care what Stella Abbot thought!

On the other hand, it was all Stella could do to hide her delight.
 Her sources had insisted that Claire knew nothing of West's late wife, but she chanced the question in the hopes of such a revelation, and now that tell-tale flush revealed Claire's feelings were involved romantically.  This was much better than she hoped for.

Claire might not use any of this in her article, but her talent lay in the fact that she was a natural writer, whose feelings infected her writing - so the reader was aware of a mood rather than bare facts.
 If Claire Fitzpatrick saw West as a romantic figure then that is how he would appear.  The readers would lap it up; she had to get Claire to write that article.  She chose her next words carefully; Claire mustn’t know how much she wanted her to persuade West to agree to the profile.

"One of the reasons I suggested this is because John told me you were looking for something a little more challenging than the usual write-ups.
 He seems to have faith in your abilities and I'll have to trust his judgment."  She put the pencil down.  “Why don't you mention it to West, he might be very interested, as I've mentioned the publicity isn't likely to do him any harm.  If he's not interested; we'll drop it.  There's always someone else."  She shrugged.

The double meaning behind these words was not lost on Claire.
 "Alright, I'm seeing him tonight, I'll ask him then.  He may not decide right away, but I'll let you know as soon as he does."

"Very well, we'll discuss the matter again then."

Understanding she had been dismissed, Claire rose and left the office, her thoughts whirling around her.  Stella was right - she had wanted a chance at something more challenging.  This series could be just what she had been looking for; the article on Julian especially.  He was an interesting figure.  Not only was he a well-known designer, but he had been married to a famous actress at an early age.  She was aware of the media interest in him but she always ascribed that to his marriage to Susanna. She had never thought about it before, but now she realised he was just the kind of personality in his own right that the public were curious about.  And he’d never been profiled before!

Would she be wrong to try and persuade him to allow her to do the article?
 Would he agree to it just to please her; but secretly hate it?  No.  He had too much self-respect to let her use him that way.  He might do something he found inconvenient or irritating, but no matter how much he cared for her, he would never completely compromise his principles.  She could broach the subject without worrying about taking advantage of their relationship, and she felt sure she could write the article without revealing his privacy.  She would centre it around his work and only refer to Susanna in relation to how she may have influenced his designs. Yes, that approach would work well.  She could give the readers just enough titillation without exposing any intimacies.

Claire's thoughts strayed away from the prospective article to her and Julian's relationship.
 How much he cared for her wasn't really the question.  He made no secret of the fact that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her.  What Claire was unsure of were her own feelings.  She knew she was attracted to him and she spent most of her free time with him, but she wasn't sure if she loved him.

Their truce ended two weeks ago.
 Although they were not lovers in the complete sense, they had become physically intimate to a certain extent.  The occasion that marked the beginning of this change was the Saturday afternoon four weeks after Claire's return.

She drove over from her apartment to have lunch at his house. Afterwards they settled down to enjoy a game of chess together.
 They were both good at the game and usually neither spoke, engrossed with the challenge to their skills.  But this particular afternoon, Claire found it hard to concentrate on anything except Julian as he bent over the chess table.

At first it appeared he was having no similar problems, until she was sure she caught his eyes on her cleavage instead of the board.
 His eyes dropped at once, and remembering their agreement she let the incident pass, until he made a completely ridiculous move that revealed his mind was no more on the game than hers.  At this point, Claire knocked over her king and smiled up at him wickedly, her words, although relevant to the game, holding a double meaning.

"I surrender."

Then moving around the chess table, she shimmied herself provocatively beside his wary figure on the couch, looking up at him through her eyelashes in a very flirtatious manner.  "Now that's taken care of ... you wanna fool around?

Julian attempted to keep his face straight.
 "No.  We have an agreement, remember."  Righting her king, he indicated the armchair she had vacated and told her, "Get back there and finish the game."

"I'd rather play a different game.
 We didn't establish a time limit on our truce, only until I'd had a breathing space.  It's been a month now and all my lusty feelings for Richard have evaporated."  She moved closer to him, insinuating herself under his arm, informing him shamelessly, "It's your body I'm after now.”

Julian removed his arm, but she could tell from the look in his eye she was gaining ground.
 Deciding her best ploy was to retreat and give him a better view of what he was missing, she stretched out on the couch, her head resting on her arms at the other end, her bare foot massaging his arm, treating him to the sight of her naked legs revealed by her brief shorts.  Much to her chagrin, he rested his gaze on the chessboard, ignoring her completely.

"Julian, are you gay?"

He gave a short laugh at this and fixed her with amused eyes.  "That's not going to work.  I’m immune to insults."

"Insults?
 Tut-tut, that's not a very progressive attitude, is it?"

"Your question was not voiced in a progressive manner."

Claire allowed her foot to continue its exploration moving down to caress his thigh.  "Yes it was. It's all part of my plan to progressively seduce you."

Laughing, he pulled her towards him by her foot, running his hand caressingly over her leg.
 "What happened to that nice, respectable, young woman I used to know?  When did she turn into a sexy, little temptress?"

Taking full advantage of his change of attitude, she moved over and settled herself in his lap.
 "Round about the same time you turned into a gorgeous, sexy hunk."

Putting his arms around her, he ran his fingers through her hair, which she wore informally around her shoulders.
 "Hunk.  That's hardly a description that applies to me."

"What!
 Don't tell me you don't know how good-looking you are."

"I won't argue the point, but I am just a little too pretty for hunk material."

Angered that he should denigrate his virility, Claire narrowed her eyes and proceeded to lecture him.  "You listen to me, not all women pant after hairy apes.  A hunk applies to any man who stirs shameless desires in women, as I'm sure you've noticed, you do in me.  And I've been watching when we go out together, you may not notice the way women look at you, but I sure do."

He still didn't look convinced, so she elaborated.
 "You know what I thought when I first saw you, I thought you looked like a Greek god."  Ignoring his disbelieving look, she traced his jaw. ''Course, your jaw's a little too strong, but I allowed myself a certain amount of romantic license - I told you I was a very romantic teenager and eighteen was the peak of my romantic stage."

"Eighteen, I thought you were nineteen."

"Actually, I was twenty when we first met.  But I'm not talking about then, I saw you once at a party I went to with my father.  We were never introduced, that's why you don't remember."

"You never told me."

Claire shrugged.  "The opportunity never arose before.  Never mind that.  We were discussing how you are hunk material, and how you stir shameless desires within me."  She paused, considering.  "I think you're eyes have a lot to do with it.  I have a thing about eyes. 'Course, I also have a thing about broad shoulders..."  Her hands moved over his shoulders, "... and forearms."  Walking her fingers up his chest, she undid the first few buttons of his shirt with deceptive slowness.  Then she thrust apart his shirt and buried her face in his chest, playfully, her words muffled against him, filled with laughter. "…and manly chests with just enough hair on them."  Lifting her head she met his eyes, which like hers were brimming over with fun, and something else.  "To tell you the truth, I just have a thing about you.

"Taking her chin in his hand, he told her.
  "I'm glad to hear it, considering I have a thing about you."

Claire tilted her head back invitingly and asked him softly.
  "In that case, don't you think it's time you did something about it?"

He lowered her, shifting, so they were both stretched out on the couch.
  Instead of kissing her, as she expected, his fingers traced her features in a leisurely exploration.  She liked the feel of his touch against her skin, but she wanted to feel his lips against her.  Finally she could stand it no longer and she demanded in exasperated tones.

"Damn it, Julian.
  Kiss me!"

He looked at her in pretended surprise.
  "Am I supposed to?  I thought you were seducing me."

Claire glared at him.
  Enough was enough!  She was only prepared to throw herself at him so much.  Rising, she intended to push him off and remove herself from his reach.  Julian foiled her attempts by pushing her back down and kissing her softly, but extremely thoroughly.  By the time his lips moved on to other areas, allowing her air, her cheeks were flushed a delightful shade of pink.  His lips trailed across her cheek, over her eyes, his tongue flicking in the shell of her ear.

As his tongue continued its exploration, she recovered sufficiently to begin some travels of her own.
  Her arms crept around his neck, her fingers trailing across his nape, rolling his curls around her fingers.  She brought her hands down under his arms to encircle his back, pulling his shirt out of his jeans, running her fingers under it to caress his bare skin.  He felt warm and good to her touch and she could feel her desire for him slowly mounting.

He shifted, so his back was no longer accessible to her, but she didn't complain when she realised the reason behind his movements.
  Slowly, he undid the buttons of her blouse.  Claire rarely wore a bra and when he had finished the task, her breasts were fully available to his admiring gaze.  He didn't touch them at first, bending to flick his tongue around her navel, increasing her anticipation, so that when his tongue did reach them, she moaned and squirmed.