Kiss (29 page)
Authors: Jill Mansell
Even more stunning, however, had been the change in Tash. Gone was the lazy, laid-back demeanour, the air of boredom which she had first observed at The Chelsea Steps. The moment he had pulled up a chair and begun to demonstrate the different functions of the myriad machines before her, he had come properly alive. Making music - this was what gave him pleasure. This was Tash Janssen’s idea of fun and for all his earlier double entendres Izzy realised that now if she were to pull off her jeans and top and dance naked around the studio, he would take no notice at all.
‘Flick that switch,’ he instructed her, so engrossed in the columns of figures on the computer screen that he didn’t even realise his fingers were resting on Izzy’s knee. Izzy tried hard not to notice, either. Whereas it had been easy to rebuff his good-natured advances yesterday, this abrupt switch to indifference - and the fact that he was no longer
trying
to seduce her - was ridiculously erotic. Pressing the switch he had indicated, she glanced around the room in order to take her mind off his proximity. Each wall was lined with cork tiles of different thicknesses in order to deaden the acoustics and the stone-flagged floor was covered with matting. More inviting was the slightly battered, green velvet sofa positioned against the wall behind them. Apart from the faint whirring of the tape she had set in motion, the room was in total silence.
trying
to seduce her - was ridiculously erotic. Pressing the switch he had indicated, she glanced around the room in order to take her mind off his proximity. Each wall was lined with cork tiles of different thicknesses in order to deaden the acoustics and the stone-flagged floor was covered with matting. More inviting was the slightly battered, green velvet sofa positioned against the wall behind them. Apart from the faint whirring of the tape she had set in motion, the room was in total silence.
‘Now press play,’ said Tash, when the tape had skittered to a halt.
Izzy, entranced by his seriousness, obeyed. Moments later, as the first bars of ‘Never, Never’ filled the studio, she sat upright and said, ‘Oh . . . !’
When the tape ended she gazed at Tash with new respect. ‘You did all that from memory.’
He smiled briefly. ‘Since you wouldn’t let me keep the tape, I didn’t have much choice. It isn’t exactly the same, but I wanted to experiment with the vocals . . . I’m pretty out of practice as far as this kind of singing’s concerned.’
‘I knew you could do it,’ sighed Izzy. Unaccustomed though he might be to producing anything less than hard-driving, full-tilt rock, that husky voice was wonderfully suited to the slower, gentler pace of ‘Never, Never’. Despite herself, she felt a lump form in her throat. She
had
known he could do it, but she hadn’t imagined he would do it this well. Now, for the first time, she realised just how much of an effect last night’s impulsive introduction could have on her life . . .
had
known he could do it, but she hadn’t imagined he would do it this well. Now, for the first time, she realised just how much of an effect last night’s impulsive introduction could have on her life . . .
Two hours later, dropping the headphones she’d been wearing on to thé desk and rumpling her hair back into some sort of shape, Izzy collapsed on to the sofa. Adrenalin was still bubbling through her veins and it didn’t appear to have anywhere to go. Trying not to gaze at Tash’s rear view - at the way his jeans clung to his narrow hips as he leaned across the mixing console to close down the computer - she said, ‘So, this is what you do when you want to have fun.’
‘Mmm.’ He had his back to her, but she thought he was smiling. ‘Better than sex, don’t you think?’
‘That depends on who you’re doing it with.’
He was definitely smiling now. ‘I thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.’
‘I didn’t want to sleep with the famous Tash Janssen,’ she replied carefully. ‘But you’re different.’
Izzy held her breath as he turned and came to stand before her, then slowly reached out and drew her to her feet. Even more slowly, he traced the curve of her cheek with a forefinger. Hopelessly excited, incapable of concealing her own longing, she was pink-cheeked and trembling.
‘We have a business partnership,’ he reminded her. ‘I don’t think it would be a wise move. I really don’t think we should risk spoiling that.’
Oh bugger, thought Izzy, not knowing whether to argue the point or give in gracefully. The humiliation of it all! And how Sam would laugh if he ever found out that she had been rejected by none other than Tash Janssen, the most unscrupulous seducer since Valentino.
‘Right,’ she said bravely, attempting to sound businesslike and uncrushed. ‘Of course. Look, it’s past Jericho’s bedtime. I’d better be making a move . . .’
But she didn’t move anywhere, because at that moment Tash bent his head and kissed her, slowly, luxuriously and with stunning finesse. It was about the most unbusinesslike kiss she had ever encountered, and her senses reeled. Izzy was now thoroughly confused.
‘Just checking,’ murmured Tash, glancing over her shoulder and meeting Jericho’s calm, unflinching gaze.
‘What?’
‘That dog of yours. He is one lousy chaperone.’
She looked surprised. ‘Of course he is. Would I have brought him along otherwise?’
‘I don’t know.’ Pausing, he slid his hand beneath her hair and idly stroked the sensitive nape of her neck. ‘I don’t know what you might do.’
Izzy thought she might be in danger of exploding with frustration. Trying not to squirm, she said faintly, ‘Look, you said we were business partners. This isn’t very fair . . .’
‘You said you didn’t want to sleep with me,’ he reminded her for the second time.Then he smiled. ‘Maybe I was lying, too.’
‘I wasn’t lying,’ Izzy protested, wanting him to understand. ‘I just changed my mind.’
Suppressing laughter, Tash pulled her towards him once more. ‘Well, don’t do it again. At least, not for the next couple of hours . . .’
Chapter 30
Tash was a light sleeper. Through half-closed eyes he watched for some time while Izzy crept about the bedroom struggling to locate her clothes in the dark. Finally, he said, ‘What on earth are you trying to do?’
‘Find my shoes.’ Izzy, who had barely slept at all, didn’t turn to look at him. She had been lying awake, bitterly regretting her actions, even before he had flung out a bare arm and murmured, ‘Anna,’ in his sleep. She’d already known she’d made a mistake, but that was the moment when she realised she could no longer stay. She’d behaved just as Sam had predicted and now she was suffering the inevitable consequences. She was nothing but a tart. And where the bloody hell
were
her shoes, anyway?
were
her shoes, anyway?
‘You don’t have to leave.’ Tash sounded amused but made no move towards her. ‘Breakfast will be served from eight-thirty onwards. Why don’t you just come back to bed and—?’
‘No, thanks.’ Izzy abruptly intercepted him, sensing that he was humouring her. Just as he must have humoured so many other women in the past, she thought with a surge of shame. ‘I’m going home.’
This time he yawned and made a non-committal gesture. ‘If that’s what you want, OK. Don’t say I didn’t offer.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she replied evenly, dredging up every last vestige of pride. ‘I won’t say anything at all.’
Tash smiled to himself as the two figures came into view ahead of him, imprisoned in the twin beams of his headlights. Izzy Van Asch was one hell of a stubborn lady. A barefoot stubborn lady, at that. He was impressed they’d managed to get this far in the twenty minutes or so since they’d left the house.
Slowing to a crawl alongside them, he lowered his window and held out one of her shoes. ‘OK, Cinderella, you’ve made your point. Were you really thinking of walking all the way back to Kensington?’
Since Kensington was over twenty miles away, Izzy certainly was not. As soon as she reached the nearest village - she could have sworn they’d passed one on the way here last night - she was going to find a public callbox and phone for a cab. But the village had mysteriously distanced itself from Tash’s isolated home, the soles of her feet were burning with pain and she was
hungr y
. . .
hungr y
. . .
‘Come on, get in,’ said Tash, admiring her spirit. ‘Look, poor old Jericho wants a lift, even if you don’t.’
Jericho, with characteristic shamelessness, was pressing his nose against the window. Izzy couldn’t help smiling at the expression on his face. When Tash opened the car’s rear door the dog scrambled on to the back seat with all the grace of an eager groupie.
‘I don’t turn out at five-thirty in the morning for just anyone, you know,’ he remarked as Izzy slid into the passenger seat.
‘I’m not just anyone.’
‘Of course you aren’t.You’re a damn sight more bloody-minded than most people I know.’
They had breakfast at an hotel in Windsor, sitting out on the terrace and watching a string of polo ponies setting out on their dawn gallop across the dew-drenched lawns of Windsor Great Park. Jericho, wolfing down sausages and basking in the pale, early morning sunlight, was in heaven. So were the hotel staff, when they realised they had Tash Janssen on the premises.
‘I felt cheap,’ Izzy explained, feeling immeasurably better after five bacon sandwiches and several cups of strong black coffee.
‘Maybe I did, too.’ Behind his dark glasses, Tash gave her a mocking grin. ‘Hasn’t it occurred to you that whenever some woman wonders what it must be like to go to bed with a rock star, I’m the one on the receiving end? They don’t want
me
, they just want to screw a celebrity and it’s up to me to put in a good performance, otherwise they’ll rush out and tell all their friends how hopeless I was.’
me
, they just want to screw a celebrity and it’s up to me to put in a good performance, otherwise they’ll rush out and tell all their friends how hopeless I was.’
Izzy, who hadn’t thought of it that way, pinched a grilled mushroom from his plate and said, ‘You weren’t hopeless, you were very good.’
‘Of course I was good!’ He raised his eyebrows in mock despair. ‘That’s because it wouldn’t be healthy for my ego if you were to go belting off to the papers screaming, “We were going to record a song together but he was so terrible in bed I couldn’t bear to go through with it. I’m going to sing with Des O’Connor instead.” ’
‘Des O’Connor,’ breathed Izzy reverently. ‘I hadn’t thought of him. How
stupid
of me . . .’
stupid
of me . . .’
Katerina’s heart sank when she rounded the corner and saw Andrew waiting for her in his car. It wasn’t what she needed right now, but at the same time she wasn’t particularly surprised to find him here. Last night had been awful and he hadn’t taken it at all well. Katerina wondered whether he’d had as little sleep as she had. The big difference, of course, was that he wasn’t due to take a final physics exam in less than half an hour.
‘Kat, we have to talk.’ Andrew certainly didn’t look as if he’d slept. His thin face was almost grey with anxiety and the inside of the car was thick with cigarette smoke. Since a group of Katerina’s classmates were meandering past, however, she wasn’t about to get involved in a shouting match on the pavement. Pulling the passenger door shut behind her, she said wearily, ‘I’m not going to change my mind, Andrew. We can’t carry on seeing each other. It’s
wrong
and I’ve been a selfish bitch—’
wrong
and I’ve been a selfish bitch—’
‘But I love you,’ he said urgently, trying to take her hand. ‘And you love me, so how can it possibly be wrong? Nothing else
matters
.’
matters
.’
‘Gina matters.’ Katerina closed her eyes. When she opened them again a second later she saw Simon heading towards them, pretending not to look inside the car. ‘Marcy does, too. She’s just suffered a miscarriage. You should be looking after her.’
She was holding herself rigidly away from him. Andrew, longing to take her into his arms, knew she didn’t really mean what she was saying.
‘I want to look after you,’ he told her, willing her to stop this stupid game. ‘Kat, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.’
Simon, rounding the final corner, swallowed hard when he saw who was waving to him by the school gates. Shit, now what was he supposed to do?
‘Simon!’ Izzy called out to him, as if he could have failed to notice her. Whoever could miss Izzy Van Asch? he thought, colouring with pleasure at the sight of her even as his mind raced ahead to the immediate problem of preventing her from seeing Kat and Andrew together.
‘I had to come and wish Kat good luck for this morning and she hasn’t arrived yet,’ she explained, her dark eyes alight with amusement. ‘I can’t believe it - for the very first time in my life I’m early and she’s late.’
Simon, crossing his fingers behind his back, said, ‘She’ll be here any minute now.’
‘And how about you? Are you nervous?’
‘Uh . . . yes.’ That was an understatement. He promptly turned one shade pinker as Izzy gave him a kiss on the cheek.
‘Well, don’t be.You’ll both do brilliantly, I know it. And then there’s tonight to look forward to,’ she added cheerfully. ‘Where have you decided you want to go?’
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