High Society (8 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HERE
were undeniably some advantages to her ‘engagement’ to Silas, Julia reflected as their chauffeur-driven limousine swept them down toward Positano, and first-class travel had to be at the top of the list.

Julia knew that many people found Silas dauntingly formidable. His unemotional practicality had certainly irked her over the years, but there were times when a practical man was a bonus and this was definitely one of them. She considered herself to be a modern, independent woman, but she had certainly enjoyed having nothing to do other than sit back and relax and admire the awe-inspiring Amalfi coastline.

Silas, predictably, had been working, his BlackBerry handheld PDA device in constant use as he phoned and e-mailed, while the chauffeur with true Italian
élan
and a breathtakingly macho disregard for the coaches lumbering the other way.

‘Relax,’ Silas had murmured at one point, when she had audibly drawn in her breath, sure that they would go over the cliff. ‘He knows he won’t get a tip if we don’t survive.’

It had astonished her that he had noticed her apprehension. He certainly hadn’t been looking at her. She knew that, because every time she had looked at him he had been totally focused on e-mailing.

What would it take to shake Silas out of that cool, distancing manner of his and into the heat of raw human passion...or rather who would it take? She would certainly need to be a very strong woman, and a very determined one. What would he be like as a lover? Experienced, certainly, and knowledgeable about what pleased a woman for sure. Silas set high standards for himself, and his skills. And a woman would be able to trust him to take care of everything there was to be taken care of. Silas would have a clean bill of health and an awareness of what could be safely risked and what could not. He would take due care to make sure that his lover experienced the maximum amount of pleasure without inflicting on her any kind of pain.

Physically, perhaps, but what about emotionally? Was Silas, with his cool distance from the rest of the human race and their untidy emotions, capable of understanding what it meant to be hurt emotionally?

‘I’ve e-mailed your grandfather, apologising for not asking his formal permission for our engagement. I told him that your impetuosity overwhelmed us.’

‘
My
impetuosity?’ Julia challenged him.

Silas smiled at her.

‘Well, he would hardly be likely to believe me if I said it was mine, would he?’ I’ve also e-mailed my mother, and the New York society columns.’

‘Have you told her that my impetuosity is to blame as well?’ Julia asked wryly.

‘My mother doesn’t need an explanation.’

Whilst Julia was silently digesting his comment, Silas added, ‘You’re going to need an engagement ring, but, I’ve suggested to your grandfather we wait until you can return to New York with me.’

‘Silas, I don’t want a ring.’

She might just as well not have spoken.

‘It seems appropriate to me that you should wear the Monckford diamond.’

‘What?’
Julia stared at him. ‘You mean the one the Sixth Earl fought that duel over?’

‘Actually, it was his wife’s honour over which he fought the duel, but since it was the fact that she was foolish enough to be wearing the ring when she went to meet her lover, yes, I do mean that one. Traditionally it was the family betrothal ring, so it seems fitting that you should wear it now.’

Julia took refuge from her own chaotic thoughts by saying crossly, ‘I thought you were supposed to run the Foundation, not spend your time trying to repossess every bauble the family ever owned.’

‘The Monckford Diamond is hardly a bauble. In fact, it is an extremely rare and historic stone.’

‘Thank heavens I don’t have to wear it permanently. If it looks anything like it does in the Countess’s portrait, it must be incredibly ugly,’ Julia could not resist saying disparagingly.

Silas had always incited her to this kind of angry tit for tat, as though somehow they both had to try and outdo one another. But, no matter how much she goaded him, Silas never reacted with a satisfactory show of emotion.

They had reached Positano, its rows of pastel-washed buildings clinging to the steep hillside whilst the Mediterranean lay blue and calm below them.

No wonder artists and poets had fallen in love with this place, Julia reflected as she gazed out of the car widow in silent appreciation. And no wonder too that the Silverwoods had wanted to come here, to the place where they had first met, to celebrate two such special family events.

As regular visitors to Positano, the Silverwoods had a favourite hotel where they always stayed, and Julia had managed, after some incredibly difficult negotiations, to ensure that they would have the exclusive use of a private dining room there, that opened out onto a terrace overlooking the sea, for the celebratory meal. Not unnaturally, the manager of the hotel had demanded a large fee for the use of both dining room and patio, at what was virtually the height of the summer season.

Privately Julia was not sure she would have chosen such an exclusive and expensive venue for the celebration of an eighteenth birthday, and during initial discussions she had recognised that the Silverwoods’ teenage son was not as excited about the prospect of the double celebration as his parents. Diplomatically she had suggested to her clients that they might think about throwing a more robust type of event exclusively for their son, so that he could celebrate his coming of age with his friends.

The car turned in to the entrance to the Arcadia hotel, past the discreet plaque that bore the legend ‘Leading Hotels of the World’. She already knew that the Arcadia had been built in the eighteenth century as a private villa, and had been opened as a hotel in the early 1950s. Its rooms were apparently still furnished as though it were a private home, with carefully chosen antiques and
objets d’art
, and certainly the reception area bore out this description.

They were shown almost immediately to their suite, and Julia caught her breath as she saw the views from the windows. The hotel must surely command some of the best views in Positano, Julia decided as Silas tipped the porter.

‘This is heavenly,’ she murmured appreciatively, unable to take her eyes off the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean.

‘What’s the plan of action for tomorrow?’ Silas asked, merely glancing briefly at the view as he reached for his BlackBerry.

‘The family will have already arrived today, and by tonight so will most of the guests. For tomorrow, we’ve organised the hire of a private yacht that will take everyone to Capri, where they will have lunch. Then tomorrow evening there will be a champagne reception at the hotel. Some of the guests won’t make it in time for the Capri trip, so the following day those who wish to do so can go to Amalfi. For those who don’t, a buffet lunch will be provided at the hotel, with the main event—the formal dinner—taking place that evening.’

‘And that’s it?’ Silas asked her.

‘That’s it,’ Julia agreed, straight-faced. ‘Except, of course, for the flowers, and the hairdresser, and the food, and of course the wine, plus getting the presents here, et cetera, et cetera.’

He had put down his BlackBerry and come to study the view. There wasn’t very much room on the small balcony, which meant that he had to stand behind her, so close that she could feel the heat coming off his body.

‘I think tonight we’ll dispense with the separate sleeping arrangements.’

‘What?’ Julia started to turn round and then stopped as she realised that turning round would bring her body to body with him.

‘This really is a wonderful view,’ she blurted out in panic.

‘Wonderful,’ Silas agreed kindly.

He had put his arm around her—both arms, in fact, Julia discovered.

‘I don’t think this is a very good idea,’ she warned him in a wobbly voice.

‘No? Are you sure?’

His mouth was brushing hers. How could such a cool and remote man have such a warm and sensual mouth? Like fire under ice, or her favourite dessert, hot sauce on cold ice cream. Mmm, delicious... Just like the feel of Silas’s mouth on her own, in fact. Mmm.

As she sighed her appreciation of his kiss, she moved closer to him and put her own arms around his neck.

His tongue probed her lips, slowly but oh, so deliberately, letting her know that he would not stop until she had given him what he wanted. Her body shivered with pleasure as she let him thrust firmly between her half-parted lips. Oh, but he was good. Or was it just that it was just so long since she had last been kissed? Her whole body had become the ice cream now, melting in the heat of the deliberately slow and sensually symbolic thrust of his tongue within the eager wetness of her mouth.

His hand claimed her breast, moulding it firmly and then caressing it rhythmically, his fingertips teasing her nipple before his hand slid back so that this palm was rubbing erotically against it, the caress repeated so firmly and insistently that her whole body began pulse to the rhythmic movement of his hand. Instinctively she wanted to return the intimacy of his touch, to hold the stiff hot flesh of his erection in her hand so that she could explore its veined hardness and see his pleasure whilst she did so.

It had been so long since she had last had sex. She had truly believed that she wasn’t bothered, but now she realised that she must be, because she was already aching with frantic need for Silas.

Silas!

Abruptly she broke the kiss.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘We shouldn’t be doing this...’

‘Of course we should,’ Silas told her promptly. ‘We’re engaged.’

When she looked at him, he added softly, ‘And, more importantly, you want to.’

‘Do
you
?’

The way he looked at her as he took hold of her hand and placed it against his erection made her heart turn over inside her chest.

‘What do you think?’ he demanded.

Julia was too caught up in the discovery that his bank account wasn’t the only thing about him that was larger than average to make any kind of response.

A part of her was thinking that this couldn’t be her, actually thinking of having sex with Silas, but another and much more assertive part was saying it would hate her for ever if she didn’t allow it to satisfy the fiercely urgent need that had taken hold of her.

Even so...she had her responsibilities...

‘I ought to go over to the hotel and just check...’

‘How do I know that isn’t just an excuse to sneak off and indulge your shoe habit?’ Silas teased her.

She had a shoe habit? She didn’t remember. In fact she couldn’t think of anything other than what it was going to feel like to lie naked under Silas whilst he filled her with his gorgeous thick strength until he had satisfied the ache that was pulsing from her clitoris right up to her womb.

‘Okay, come on,’ Silas announced, his voice suddenly crisp. ‘Let’s get unpacked, and then go down and get some dinner.’

Unpacked? Dinner? There was only one hunger she wanted to satisfy right now. And as for clothes...

Silas watched her with a small satisfied smile. She wanted him and she wanted him badly. That was good. Establishing a sexual bond with her prior to persuading her to marry him might not have been part of his original game plan—sexual satisfaction within their marriage hadn’t been particularly high on his original list of priorities—but a plan could be adapted. Why shouldn’t he make use of such an excellent opportunity, especially when doing so would be very pleasurable for them both? And not just pleasurable in the short term, but potentially very pleasurable in the long term as well, bonding Julia to him in a way that could only be beneficial to their marriage.

The truth, if he was honest with himself, was that the speed and intensity of his arousal had caught him totally off guard. He prided himself on his sexual self-control, but right now he could feel himself straining and pulsing with his need to push slowly and deeply into Julia’s wet heat until she had taken all of him, and then, equally slowly, to ease himself out again before thrusting slickly back in, slowly and deeply, until she raked his back with her nails and held him in her, whilst she moaned her pleasure and urged him to move harder and faster...

Abruptly he made himself think of something else. He might have decided to marry Julia eight years ago, but since he hadn’t spent those years fantasising about having sex with her, he saw no reason why he should allow himself to do so now.

He was suddenly and uncomfortably aware that if he hadn’t already been planning to marry Julia, then the intensity of his physical desire for her might have been a problem. And there was no place for problems in Silas’s life—just as there was no place for situations he could not control.

His mother was a shrewd and emotionally strong woman, but as a young widow she had bowed to the pressure put on her by her late husband’s financial advisers and accepted the Foundation’s trustees’ insistence on helping her to shape and direct the way in which Silas was groomed to take on the role which would one day be his almost from the day of his birth.

The burden of being responsible for the future of the Foundation and its billions of dollars was not one that could be taken on lightly. Her husband, Silas’s father, had died before his twenty-fifth birthday, and these trustees even then had already been in their late middle age, considering the heat and excitement of youthful passion something to be deplored and strictly controlled. Through their guidance and teaching Silas had not just learned how to protect the Foundation, but had also absorbed almost from his cradle certain old-fashioned attitudes to life. Silas had, in short, been raised to put the Foundation first, to exercise self-control, and to be practical and unemotional. The trustees were all dead now, but he knew how much they would have approved of his decision to make Julia his wife. He saw what he had learned from the old men who had been his male role models as an asset, and indeed it was one he fully intended to pass on to his own sons.