Keeping the Peace (46 page)

Gazing into his eyes, she wallowed in the knowledge that it was
Jack
, finally it was
Jack
that she was touching, sharing this intimacy with. She felt her pelvic muscles tighten, building, gathering momentum. Her breath quickened as a raging heat flooded her body. She thrust against Jack, feeling him respond to her urgency until the floodgates opened.

‘
Jack
.’

She cried out, clinging to his shoulders, digging in her nails, not caring if they hurt or not, anything to keep her from losing complete control. Jack’s efforts became more savage as he too reached his climax. With a moan, he shuddered, his shoulders shaking beneath her caress, riding out his orgasm to its furthest reaches.

Jack half-slumped over her. With effort he raised his head to look at Pippa again. His satisfied smile mirrored her own. He leant forward and kissed her, his lips lingering.

‘I have one question for you,’ he said gruffly and rolled over onto his back beside her.

Pippa propped herself up onto one elbow and looked at him. His chest was still heaving, his body damp with sweat.

‘Which is?’

He looked at her, bewildered.

‘Why the
fuck
have we waited this long?’

P
ippa awoke with a smile on her lips. The previous evening’s events came tumbling back to her and she took a moment before opening her eyes to savour the memory. She breathed a satisfied sigh and huddled closer to the body lying beside her. When all she felt was rumpled bedding, she opened her eyes. Only sunshine filtering through her window warmed the empty space next to her. A sound behind her made her turn over.

Jack was standing beside the bed, zipping up his jeans. He paused when he realised Pippa was awake.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,’ he mumbled.

Pippa sat up, modestly covering herself with the duvet.

‘That’s okay.’ She hesitated, trying to read Jack’s expression. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nearly eight.’

‘You’re leaving?’

Beneath her searching gaze, Jack looked down at the floor and buckled his belt. In the light of day, Pippa drank in the broad figure in front of her, from his hair-darkened chest, his toned abdomen down to his slim jean-hugged hips.

‘I’ve got to get back. Horses to be worked. You know how it is.’

When he couldn’t meet her eye, Pippa felt a pang of uncertainty. She smiled to cover up her hurt and nodded.

‘Yeah. I know.’

Jack looked at her, apology etched on his face.

‘Sorry.’ He shifted awkwardly and gestured to the door. ‘I’ll just finish getting dressed and leave you to sleep.’

He strode across the room, leaving Pippa with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. This wasn’t how she pictured the morning after the night before to be. But this is Jack we’re talking about, she argued with herself. Of course things would be a little awkward. She jumped out of bed and wrapped herself in her dressing gown. Stepping into her slippers, she padded out of the room.

She met Jack on the landing. He had donned his shirt and was buttoning it up as he walked. He stopped and stared at Pippa.

She gave him an encouraging smile.

‘Can I make you some breakfast?’

He shook his head.

‘Thanks, but I’d better get back.’

Pippa followed him downstairs. He paused to put his shoes on and unhooked his jacket by the front door. Something resembling panic began to rise in Pippa’s throat. Was he just going to walk out? Just like that?

‘At least let me make you some coffee,’ she offered.

Jack paused, hearing the helplessness in her voice. He turned to her, attempting a small smile. He tucked a tendril of messy auburn curls behind her ear and took her hands.

‘I need to check on how our National horse is,’ he said.

Pippa let herself be pulled towards him. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

‘I’ll call you later, give you an update.’

She pasted a smile on her face, aware that it wasn’t reaching her eyes.

‘Okay. I’ll speak to you later.’

Jack dropped her hands. Opening the door, he stepped out into the sunshine and strode over to his Land Rover.

Pippa leaned against the doorframe and watched him go. She raised a hand in farewell as he started up the engine and pulled away. The cool breeze teased her skin and she wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her. She gazed at the empty driveway, her thoughts in turmoil. Foremost was the hurt of her uncertainty over his departure. Yet every few moments she felt overwhelmed with joy by what they had shared the night before. Hefting herself away from the door and pulling it shut, she drifted through the house in a daze. A smile warmed her face as she poured herself some coffee.

‘You just slept with Jack,’ she murmured to herself. She shook her head in disbelief and blew over her mug. ‘
Jack
.’

By mid-afternoon, Pippa was beginning to get restless. She frowned at the canvas in front of her and tried to inject some life into the landscape she was painting. The magic just wasn’t flowing, not when she was so preoccupied. She dabbed some lime green across the line of trees, but sat up alertly as she heard her mobile phone ringing downstairs.

Throwing the brush into the muddy water jar, she hurtled out of the room and down the stairs. She paused to catch her breath and control her excitement when she reached the kitchen. Jack had certainly taken his time about calling her, but she was determined to act as nonchalant as possible. She pulled a face when she didn’t recognise the number on the screen. It might have been his home number.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello. Am I speaking to Pippa Taylor?’ a woman asked.

Pippa’s heart sagged. Not Jack then.

‘Yes,’ she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

‘Ah, wonderful. Hello, Pippa. My name is Deidre Forrester.’

Pippa frowned at the vaguely familiar name.

‘I’m with Kings Art Galleries.’

Pippa placed the name as soon as the woman explained. Her eyes widened. King Art Galleries had about half a dozen galleries around the country. Pippa had been a regular window-shopper at their snazzy London branch, but had never had the guts to approach the management with her own art.

‘How can I help you?’ she choked out at last.

‘We have an exhibition coming up in about a month’s time and your name was suggested to us by one of our most loyal clients. We thought maybe you might be interested in showing some of your work.’

Pippa’s heart stilled then palpitated in what felt like a samba beat.

‘An exhibition? Where?’

‘Our Piccadilly gallery.’

Her jaw dropped and she steadied herself against the windowsill.

‘Really?’

‘Would you be interested?’ Deidre said with a smile in her voice.

Pippa nodded furiously and tried to pull herself together. She realised Deidre Forrester couldn’t see her nodding.

‘Absolutely. That would be fantastic.’ She paused as another thought struck her. ‘How did you – I mean, I’ve done a few commissions as well as my own stuff, but... how did you hear about me? I’m not exactly Banksy.’

The woman laughed.

‘One of your commission clients got in touch with us.’

Pippa glowed. She could forgive Jack’s silence if this was what he’d been doing today.

‘Who?’

‘Aaron Janssen. I’ve seen a couple of paintings which you did of his horses. Lovely pieces.’

Pippa’s sense of elation deflated at the mention of the fashion mogul’s name.

‘Oh. Thank you.’

‘My husband has racehorses too. I’m sure he’d appreciate your work as well. Is equestrian art your forte or do you do other stuff like landscapes and fine art?’

‘I – um – I paint landscapes as well.’ She flapped an indifferent hand as she tried to regain her concentration.

‘Splendid. Would you be able to send me some digital photos of some more of your work? The exhibition is in a month’s time and we’re asking our artists to provide up to six pieces to go on display. Does that sound like something you could manage?’

‘Er – can I get back to you on that one?’ Pippa said.

‘Of course. No problem. I have your email address here as well, courtesy of Mr Janssen so I’ll send you the contract conditions and you just let me know within the next week. Is that okay?’

Pippa swallowed.

‘Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for – um – this opportunity.’

Pippa sat, limply holding her phone in her lap after Deidre Forrester rung off. She groaned and let her head fall back. She looked at her phone in bewilderment. Had she really received an offer from one of London’s most fashionable art galleries and she’d told them she’d have to think about it? But now that she knew about Aaron Janssen’s less than attractive marketing exploits, did she really want to accept his help?

She noticed a text message on the screen of her phone which had come through at lunchtime.

Peace Offering fine after yesterday. See you tomorrow. Jack

Pippa felt like she’d just been punched in the gut. A text message? After a night like last night, and all she got was a text message? She wanted to cry. She wanted to shout at Jack and slap some sense into him. She wanted to cry even more – what sense would that be exactly? The same sense that had provoked her to sleep with her boss?

She flicked through her numbers and dialled.

‘Hey, sweets!’ Tash answered. ‘Tried to ring you last night, but couldn’t get through. You okay?’

‘Mm-hmm,’ Pippa mumbled.

‘Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good. Are Finn and Peace Offering okay after yesterday? Fucking hell, Pip, you were so close. I made the CEO allow us quarter of an hour to watch it. If that bastard horse hadn’t run in front of him, you would have won.’

‘Yeah, I know. They’re both fine.’ She thought of Jack’s text, still smarting in her chest, and sighed.

‘Okay than,’ Tash said, sounding intrigued. ‘Hang on, let me just pop to the loos for some privacy. I’m still at bloody work, can you believe it... Right, here we are. What’s eating you?’

Pippa pulled a face.

‘Um, well, you’re not going to believe this, but –’

‘Oh, my God!’ yelled Tash. ‘No way! You slept with Jack, didn’t you?’

Pippa took her phone away from her ear to look at it, Tash’s Indian hollers coming through very loud and extremely clear.

‘How could you tell?’

‘Oh, my God!’ Tash squealed. ‘Seriously? Well done, Pippa! Tell me what happened!’

Despite herself, Pippa smiled at Tash’s enthusiasm.

‘He took me home after the National and stayed for dinner. Then he tried to go home, but the road was flooded so he stayed. And... well, you know what comes next.’

‘Pippa Taylor, you saucy minx,’ Tash goaded. ‘You just bedded one of the sexiest men in Britain. Was it worth the wait?’

Pippa forced herself to breathe as she relived last night.

‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘It was like – like – like
heaven
. But not just physically. It felt so complete. Like we were two halves making a whole. I don’t know, it’s difficult to explain. I’ve never had sex like it before.’

Tash was silent for a moment.

‘Bloody hell,’ she drawled. ‘I think the reason you’ve never had sex like that before, Pip, is because you and Jack weren’t having sex. I think you just made love for the first time.’

Tears stung her eyes and she brushed them away with her palm.

‘You think?’

‘Oh, yeah.’

Pippa sighed.

‘Maybe I did. But Jack... I don’t know. It’s just this morning...’ she tailed off.

‘What do you mean? What happened this morning?’

‘He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Wouldn’t even stop for a coffee. He was out of my bed and out of the front door in less than two minutes.’

‘Was he late for anything?’

‘Just work. But it’s Sunday. Everything at the stables slows down on a Sunday. He could’ve taken ten minutes to have a coffee and not made me feel like a – like a –’

‘Oh, Pip. I’m sorry,’ Tash said. ‘Maybe you need to give him a bit of time to get used to the idea. He is Jack, after all.’

‘He said he’d call me later. Now I’ve just found he sent me a text saying Peace Offering’s fine and he’ll see me tomorrow.’

‘Ouch. Okay, this is definitely Jack we’re dealing with here. I mean, let’s look at this logically. Can you honestly see him rolling over in the morning and acting like a honeymooner?’

‘No, I guess not,’ Pippa conceded. ‘Would’ve been nice though if he had.’

‘He just needs time.’

‘I don’t know, Tash. He was always so against relationships in the workplace. Now he’s gone and done the exact same thing. He’s not going to want anything to do with me while I’m his secretary.’

‘You could quit,’ Tash suggested.

‘I guess so – no, I don’t know. I couldn’t do that. I need to work.’

‘You are working though. You’ve got about a dozen commissions lined up, haven’t you?’

‘Oh, God. That’s the next thing!’ Pippa exclaimed.

‘What next thing? Tell me!’

‘I got a call from Kings Art Galleries wanting me to take part in an exhibition they’ve got coming up.’

‘I don’t who they are, but that’s great, Pippa! See? It’s all good. What did you tell them?’

‘I said I’d think about it and thanked them for the opportunity.’

Thanked them for the opportunity? Have you been watching
The Apprentice
or something?’

Pippa chuckled.

‘No, it’s just that I was given the offer compliments of Aaron Janssen.’

‘And? That’s a good thing surely?’

Pippa gasped.

‘Fuck! You don’t know, do you?’

‘Know what?’

‘When was the last time I spoke to you?’

‘A couple of days ago, I don’t know. Tell me about Aaron Janssen!’

‘Wow, how can so much have happened in so short a time?’ Pippa marvelled.

‘Pippa, you’re killing me here!’ Tash cried.

‘Oh, God, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Okay?’

‘Hand on heart. Now spill!’