The Gigolo (3 page)

Kara crossed the pavement and climbed in, expecting him to get in after her but he remained on the pavement.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Kara. I’ve enjoyed it very much.’

‘Me too,’ she said and when she dared to look into his eyes she felt like a teenager again. She was lost for words
…and a little disappointed that he wasn’t going to take her to his bed.

‘When are we going to do it again?’
he asked.

‘I’m
not sure. I’ll have to check my diary,’ she stuttered and pulled the door closed.

He didn’t say anymore but he stood at the kerbside and watched as the cab pulled away.

Kara looked out of the rear window as the driver turned right at the end of the road. He was still looking.

What a stupid thing to say!
It sounded as if she’d brushed him off. She’d given him the impression she wasn’t interested in him – why..? Maybe it was because William Baron had somehow known her secret and that scared her. She got the feeling that he had the power to give her what she wanted and she was suddenly terrified of what that might mean.

CHAPTER
TWO

Kara woke early on Saturday morning and she smiled as she recalled her date with William but she was scared she’d put him off and he wouldn’t ring again, She tried to think of a reason that she could contact him instead as she made coffee and warmed a croissant in the oven.

It was a lovely sunny da
y. Kara took her breakfast out into the garden to sit on the terrace in the early morning sun. The grass was neatly cropped and the flower borders newly planted with summer annuals but it looked more like a municipal park than a home. It needed people in it. It needed messing up a bit. She imagined William playing football with his mates; scuffing up the grass and knocking heads off the flowers. She imagined his things strewn around the house – his pocket change in the dish by the door; his jacket hanging next to hers, and his boxers on the floor beside her bed.
Stop it! You’ll be practising his last name as your signature next, s
he chided herself.

A courier arrived a little after
nine o’clock with a package for her. Kara signed for it and took it back into the house. She opened the accompanying card first.

Thank you for dinner
.
It was from William. Kara smiled and unwrapped the package. It was the painting – the Paul Blake. She picked up the phone and dialled his number but no one answered.

Kara propped the painting on the kitchen unit and stood back to examine it. Why would he send her this when she’d clearly told him she didn’t like it?

Kara called him again at 11:30. This time he answered on the second ring. He sounded as if he’d run to the phone. She could hear the hum of London traffic in the background as if his front door was still open.

‘I can’t keep this
,’ she said grimacing at the way the paint had been so haphazardly daubed onto the canvas.

‘Wh
at?’ he said. He was being purposely ambiguous.

‘The painting, of course.’

‘Why not? It was bloody expensive. It’s supposed to make you feel guilty enough to accept another date with me.’

Kara smiled into the phone.

‘I can’t accept it because I bloody hate it!’ she replied bluntly.

‘
I’ll come and collect it if it’s bothering you that much,’ William hit back but she could hear the smile in his voice and she was glad that she hadn’t scared him off.

‘We could meet
halfway for lunch, if you’re not too busy,’ Kara suggested.

‘It’s a beautiful day – how about a picnic alongside the Serpentine?’
he said.

‘I’d love that.’ Kara smiled.
‘What shall I bring?’ A single man was unlikely to have the ingredients for a picnic in the park in his fridge.

‘Just yourself.
I have everything else under control.’

***

Kara had the painting couriered back to William’s house on Elgin Crescent – the address he had written on the back of the card should the painting have not been delivered. She wouldn’t have felt happy lugging such an expensive piece of artwork to the park.

He texted and thanked her
just as she was setting off in a cab. – I
’ll be there in 5mins
,
she replied.

She was wearing
a little summer dress that buttoned up the front, leather thong sandals and a sun hat and dark glasses for the sake of anonymity.

He was waiting in the car park with a proper wicker hamper and a c
ool bag containing two bottles of champagne. He was wearing jeans and a pink and white polo shirt with the collar half up and half down as if he hadn’t looked in the mirror before leaving the house. It suited him. His style but was effortless and with a kind of irresistible boyish charm. His chin was shadowed with beard growth. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed but smelt as if he had spent all morning in the shower and there were still a few tendrils of damp hair at the back of his neck.

Kara breathed in the scent of him. It made her want to get clos
er; to feel his arms around her and the warmth of his chest against her cheek.

They
strolled along the edge of the river in the sun until they came to a quiet spot. William laid a blanket on the grass and opened the hamper.

He’d brought
proper champagne flutes and cheese and a variety of exotic looking snacks and dips from Harrods. It said he’d cared enough to buy quality but not quite enough to make it himself. It also said he’d planned this in advance – or perhaps she was reading too much into it. Perhaps he had just rushed around to Harrods after her earlier phone call.

He opened the
packs and spread them out on the blanket and then he opened the champagne. She held both glasses while he filled them.

‘It’ll go straight to my head,’ Kara said.

‘Good.’ He smiled and sipped from his glass.

Every time he looked into her eyes Kara’s s
tomach did a double flip and she was reminded of what he’d said last night.

‘That was an outrageously extravagant gift,’ she said by way of diverting his attention from her eyes.

‘Thank God you didn’t accept it,’ he laughed.

‘Wh
at? Why?’

‘Because
it doesn’t belong to me. I bought it on behalf of an American friend. He would not have been amused if I’d had to tell him I’d given it to this beautiful, sassy lady I’d met just to get her to come on another date with me.’

‘
That was a risky game,’ Kara laughed. He always managed to surprise her.

‘You were worth the risk.’ He reached out and touched her cheek. ‘I
like this game we’re playing. It makes a change from the usual…well, you know.’

Kara wasn’t sure she did know but she was too mesmerised by his touch to speak.

He leant across the food between them and kissed her. His
tongue tasted sweet, his lips salty. She couldn’t help but lick them. He murmured his appreciation of her impulsive gesture and the sound seemed to crawl down her throat and plant itself right between her legs.

He poured more wine and they shared the food, dipping king prawns into sweet chili dip and cheese straws into the fondue sauce that had warmed pleasantly under the hot
summer sun.

She held out her glass when he opened the second bottle and enjoyed the
weightless carefree feeling it gave her. Drinking champagne in the park at lunchtime seemed so wickedly decadent but it was good to let her hair down for once.

He didn’t bring up their brief conversation from last night until they’d packed away the remains of their picnic and were lying on the blanket soaking up the mid-
afternoon sun.

‘Don’t laugh at me, Kara, but I
’m kind of enjoying this. I hope you are, too?’

Kara stifled the giggle that
threatened to spill from her lips and let his words sink deeper. Of course she was enjoying it.

‘You’re still just trying to get into my
knickers,’ Kara laughed.

‘Ok, I admit it
but is that such a bad thing? Isn’t that what you really want?’ He held her gaze, daring her to deny it. She couldn’t.

Kara
closed her eyes. She wished he would just take her right here. Stifle her protests with his kiss, tear off her clothes in his eagerness to get inside her and make love to her in a way that left her bruised and breathless. She felt as if they were on the cusp of something really good. She was also a little bit inebriated.

She h
eard movement beside her but kept her eyes closed. She felt him straddle her. Kara’s breaths caught in her throat. She felt dizzy. His knees were either side of her. His hands grabbed her wrists and held them against the ground above her head.

‘
I could have you any time I wanted,’ he teased and his lips brushed against hers.

Kara took a shuddering breath. It felt as if he’
d sucked all the air out of the atmosphere.

‘You
know you can trust me, don’t you, Kara?’

He seemed to sense her hesitance. In a way she wished he hadn’t.

‘I want you,’ she whispered and her voice was small and shaky.

‘Get up.’ He got to his feet and pulled her after him.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Back to my place. He took hold of her hand and pulled her along
with him.

Kara
’s heart was thumping hard in her chest but she didn’t say anything, nor did she protest.

William kept a tight grip on her hand
in the cab as he whispered in her ear. ‘I’m gonna tie you up and make you beg for it,’ he whispered into her hair as the cab driver whistled along to a familiar tune on his radio.

Kara could barely breathe. Her head was spinning and the ache between her legs was so great that she didn’t think she would’ve objected if he’d made love to her right here in the back of the cab to the
driver’s out of tune rendition of My Sweet Lord.

She knew she should have had him vetted before taking this thing any further but for once she wanted a relationship with a man that her secretary didn’t know better than she did. He was famously single, outrageously handsome and
quite obviously solvent. The worst that Google had managed to drag up on him was a question mark over his sexuality because he’d reached the age of forty one and was hardly ever seen out with a woman. Kara knew better than that, and pulled along by a tidal wave of emotions too strong for her to resist, Kara recklessly abandoned the helm of the good ship caution to ride on that fickle and thoroughly untrustworthy little vessel called lust.

Lust made a particularly capricious bed mate. One evening of lust could so easily become tomorrow’s tabloid tittle-tattle, but right now Kara couldn’t see past the desire that
was clouding her vision.

CHAPTER
THREE

Kara stood in the hall of William Baron’s elegant Georgian townhouse and even though she knew he was single she still glanced around for the tell-tale signs of a feminine influence amid the stylish décor and soft furnishings – or a photo he’d forgotten to remove from view – but she found nothing and chided herself for her suspicions. If she had no faith in him then she had no right being here.

‘Take off your clothes, Kara.’
He had barely finished closing the door behind them.

‘What?’ Kara thought she must have misheard.

‘It’s ok,’ he reassured her when she hesitated. ‘I live alone. No one will disturb us...and no one will hear your screams.’ He smiled but Kara’s breath caught in her dry throat.

She
giggled nervously but the champagne had taken the rough edges off her nerves and she did as he asked, beginning with the little fabric covered buttons on her Gucci dress. She felt decadent and she didn’t want him to know how naïve she really was in these matters. She didn’t want him to discover that she’d never done anything quite as reckless as this before.

‘You take yours off
, too,’ she suggested but he shook his head, and when she seemed to hesitate he reached out and tugged at the hem of her dress until it fell off her shoulders and slipped to the floor. His stare was so passionate and he touched her with such gentleness that it brought goose bumps to the surface of her flesh.

‘
Good girl,’ he said and his hand brushed the inside of her thigh, feeling the heat that had accumulated there.

Kara giggled
nervously. The atmosphere was so intense. Kara was afraid she was going to make a fool of herself. His words sounded vaguely ridiculous to her ears but her body responded to them immediately.