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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General, #Literary, #Family Life

To Be the Best (29 page)

BOOK: To Be the Best
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It was still raining outside, and sombre; she had not turned on the lamps, and in the shadows of the dim room she looked ethereal, illuminated as she was by the blazing fire. Her face shimmered with an incandescent, fragile beauty, and her eyes were huge, transparent and shining.

He found it impossible to look away.

They continued to gaze at each other. For a split second Philip thought he was looking deep into her soul. Finally he dropped his eyes. He did not trust himself with her, and he swung around without a word, walked back to the door, intending to leave her alone until dinner. But he could not help turning to glance at her before he went out, his eyes irresistibly drawn to hers once more.

She returned his long, penetrating stare steadily, solemnly. Her face was infinitely quiet. She did not move, nor did she speak. The air was hushed, very still between them.

He took a step forward, then another. ‘I want to be with you,’ he said in a voice that was unexpectedly hoarse. ‘Please don’t send me away.’

‘I’m not going to.’

At first he thought he had not heard her correctly, and he looked at her swiftly, through narrowed eyes.

She put down the brandy glass, lifted her arm, held out her hand to him.

He hurried back to her, took the slender hand in his, brought it to his mouth, brushed his lips over her long fingers. Then he knelt down on the floor by her side.

‘Oh Maddy,’ he said, using the diminutive of her name for the first time. ‘Oh Maddy.’

‘Philip,’ she whispered in a voice so low it was hardly audible.

He pulled her forward. She was in his arms, clinging to him, saying his name over and over, and he held her close to
his body, tightening his grip. With one hand he stroked her hair. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her as he had wanted to kiss her from the very first day, deeply, fiercely, passionately, his tongue thrusting as if he was taking possession of her with his mouth. She returned his kisses, and her tongue grazed his; he realized that her ardour for him matched his own for her. This knowledge sent a thrill searing through him.

There was no going back, he knew that. They must make love at once, now, here. There was no time to waste…too much time had been wasted already. He pulled her down under him, slid his hand under her loose top. When his fingers closed around one of her breasts she let out a long sigh; he stroked her gently, smoothed the tips of his fingers across her nipple, caressed it lovingly. Almost instantly, he felt it harden under his fondling, and this inflamed him even more. He tugged at her top, wanting to lift it over her head.

She sat up, pulled it off. He tore at his own clothes, flung them to one side. Suddenly they were stretched out next to each other on the rug, completely naked. They began to kiss again, frantically, more urgently than ever, and they could not keep their hands off each other. They reached out hungrily, longingly, to touch, to explore, to caress, to excite. The urgency between them grew and intensified as they became more and more aroused.

There was a violence in his desire for her, and he sensed the same turbulent emotion in her. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her, and she was making that quite clear. And so he fell across her, slid into her. As he did he felt her tense, gasp, and then relax.

He braced his hands on either side of her, rose up above her, looked down into her face. It was full of yearning and desire, and the wild expression that blazed in her eyes mirrored exactly what he was feeling. His breath caught in his throat in surprise and pleasure.

Philip began to move against her, very slowly, expertly, and she thrust her body forward to meet his, cleaving to him.

Their rhythm grew faster and the urgency of their passion spiralled up into total abandonment, and they were on a dizzying climb, rising higher and higher together, out of control. He had fantasized about her for days. Now his fantasy had become his reality, and he was unable to hold back. He flowed into her, gave himself to her, and then his mouth was on hers, devouring hers. And she was flying with him on that dizzying flight, and she cried his name suddenly and stiffened, and they began a slow slide down over the edge, down into scorching white heat.

Her arms and legs were woven around him, binding him in their silken vice. He was welded to her, part of her, and she was part of him, and the miracle was that they had become one single being…

Entirely spent, they lay still, locked in each other’s arms. There was no sound except for their laboured breathing, the crackling of the logs on the fire, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the background.

Philip stirred first. He buried his face in the mass of her chestnut hair, murmured against her neck, ‘I’ve wanted you since I first saw you downstairs in the portrait gallery, Maddy.’

When she made no comment, he asked, ‘Didn’t you know that?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ she whispered. With a small smile, she confessed, ‘I wanted you too.’

‘You certainly hid it very well,’ he exclaimed quietly.

She said, ‘And so did you.’

They both laughed, but fell silent immediately, caught in the webs of their own thoughts. After a short while, Philip released his hold on her, got up, took her hands in his, pulled
her to her feet. He slipped an arm around her, and they stood together in front of the fire, gazing at each other as though mesmerized. He tilted her chin, bent down, kissed her on the mouth, lightly, gently, and then reached for the brandy balloon. He offered it to her. She shook her head. He took several swallows, placed the glass on the table, and as he led her over to the large four-poster bed, he said, ‘I do hope you don’t think that I’m a drinking man, too…’

Madelana laughed, said nothing, slid under the bedclothes. Philip joined her, wrapped his arms around her. She curved her body into his, relaxing her shoulders against his broad chest, filled with a rare joy. It had as much to do with the pleasure she had given Philip as the fulfilment and release he had brought to her. The tension which had been building in her for days had disappeared. She felt as though she were wrapped in a cocoon of peace and contentment and happiness. And she knew it was because of him, all the things he was. He was a very special kind of man.

Philip continued to hold her close to him, nuzzling his face into the nape of her neck, her hair, the space between her shoulder blades. To his surprise he was suddenly at full arousal again. He threw the bedclothes to one side, pushed himself up on one elbow, looked down at her.

Madelana smiled up at him. Her face was radiant.

He smiled back, lifted one hand, began to stroke her cheek, his eyes spilling with emotion. The truth was, he loved her. He had fallen in love with her that very first day. He was glad it had happened at Dunoon, and that they had first made love here. It seemed very right to him that something as important as this had taken place in his home. He knew that he would always love her. This was not a passing thing. There could be no other woman in his life now. Never, ever again.

‘You look thoughtful,’ she said, her eyes quizzical.

He leaned over her, answered in a low voice, ‘It was too
quick, Maddy. I’m sorry…anxiety on my part, I’m afraid.’ He laughed lightly, ruefully. ‘But I’d ached for you for days…fantasized about you.’

‘You were wonderful.’

‘Perhaps you’re prejudiced, darling.’

He brought his mouth down on her breasts, began to kiss them, whilst stroking her body, running his hands all over her. Her skin felt like satin to him, and in the firelight it had a lovely roseate cast to it. He marvelled at the beauty of her lithe body, so slender, so delicately formed, her long legs, the heavy, voluptuous breasts, taut now under his touch.

Lifting his head, he brought his mouth to her mouth, kissed her deeply, traced a line down her stomach with one finger, until his hand came to rest between her thighs. He caressed her lightly, adeptly, and she reached out for him, began to stroke him. As he felt her tense and spasm, he pushed her hand away from him, entered her, and again they were instantly swept away by the intensity and urgency of their passion for each other.

They were together for a long time, and then he got up and left the bed. He strode over to the fireplace where he had discarded his clothes earlier, began to dress.

She watched him as he moved around in front of the fire, thinking what a beautiful man he was. He had a wonderful body. He was over six feet and broad shouldered, and there was not an ounce of extra flesh on him; he was tanned from being constantly in the sun.

Madelana had the sudden curious feeling that she had known him before…long ago. There was something so very familiar about him to her that it was startling. And yet they
were
strangers…albeit
intimate
strangers now

He came back to her, sat down on the edge of the bed, moved a strand of hair away from her eyes. Bending over her, he kissed her lightly, said, ‘This is just the beginning, Maddy darling.’

‘It’s the beginning of the end – ‘ She stopped abruptly, stared up at him, her eyes wide with surprise at her words.

He scowled. ‘What an odd thing to say. What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ she exclaimed. ‘It was a thought that flashed through my head, and I said it without thinking.’

‘I’m not going to talk about the
end
of anything.’ He laughed dismissively, and pulled her into his arms, hugged her tightly. Then he let her go, stood up. ‘I’ll see you downstairs shortly. Dress casually, darling, it’s just the two of us.’

‘Yes,’ she said.

She lay there for a while after he had gone. There was an indentation on the pillow next to her, where his head had been, and she reached out to touch the spot, slithered to his side of the bed, buried her face in the pillow. It smelled of him…of his hair and his cologne. She began to weep.

An enormous sense of loss overwhelmed her and she was afraid.

Chapter 21

Hong Kong glittered. It was all colour and light and movement and noise.

From the moment Jason Rickards’s private jet had thundered down the runway at Kai Tak airport five days ago, and Paula had alighted, she had been caught in the spell of the British Crown Colony.

She had not been there for fourteen years, and she had forgotten what it was really like. It overpowered in every sense.

Visually it reminded her of Manhattan, with its towering skyscrapers, air-conditioned shopping emporiums, boutiques, banks and businesses, stylish restaurants and elegant hotels. Yet withal, Hong Kong had a rhythm that was uniquely its own, a tempo that was rapid, pulsating, full of excitement and tumult.

Paula felt movement all around her. Wherever she looked she saw perpetual motion. Great jets soared up into the misty blue skies above Victoria Peak; sailing boats and sampans, yachts and junks, hydrofoils and ferries ploughed the busy harbour waters around Central and Kowloon; automobiles, trams, buses, and rickshaws surged through the streets; and people jostled each other in swarming crowds as they rushed about their business. It was over-populated. Space was at a premium, on land and sea, and there was so much teeming life and deafening noise Paula had begun to feel slightly battered by it.

Yet in contrast, there were lovely little pockets of calm and tranquillity that caught her by surprise…the quiet hills of the New Territories, that rural area between Kowloon and mainland China…the temples and shrines…and even a
spot down near the Star Ferry Pier, where every morning a group of Chinese men performed the slow, meditative movements of tai chi.

To Paula, it was the many contrasts which so startled, and which made the deepest impression on her.

Nowhere on earth was there such limitless wealth and grinding poverty within the same few miles, such breathtaking beauty rubbing shoulders with sickening squalor. Ritzy high life was perilously juxtaposed against dangerous low life. Grand and ancient families lived in close proximity to desperate refugees. Hong Kong was a place of old money and tai-pans, over one-hundred-and-forty years of British rule and colonial traditions, newly-made fortunes, stunning success stories, and mind-boggling business bonanzas. It also had one of the highest suicide rates in the world.

It had captivated Paula, and she fully understood its extraordinary allure for residents and visitors alike.

Until Paula’s arrival, Emily had been ensconced in the Peninsula in Tsimshatsui on Kowloon side. This was the hotel where she invariably stayed on her buying trips. It was convenient for her business dealings with mainland China, since she had ready access to the factories which manufactured the varied products she purchased for Genret.

The night before Paula had flown in with Don Metcalfe of Rickards International on the company plane, Emily had moved Hong Kong side. She had checked into the vast and beautiful suite she had booked in the famous Mandarin Hotel in the heart of the Central District.

‘I’ve finished all my business, and Central’s much more convenient for us, and what we want to do,’ Emily had explained to Paula when she was settling in after her arrival. ‘It’s the shopping Mecca of Asia, and anyway, I think it’s much more interesting for you to be on Hong Kong Island itself.’ Paula had nodded and agreed. ‘Whatever you say, Emily. You’re in charge. And I love this hotel. It’s just beautiful.’

Emily had planned a programme which hardly left them a moment to breathe. Nevertheless, Paula had been enthusiastic about doing everything, and tremendously energized by the sightseeing, the shopping, the visits to different restaurants and several of the other smart hotels, not to mention their tour of night clubs in Wanchai.

The first evening she was there, Emily had taken her to Gaddi’s for dinner. It was considered to be the finest European restaurant in Hong Kong, and Rolf Heiniger, the renowned maître d’hôtel, had lived up to his reputation for knowledge and attentiveness, had suggested the most delicious dishes and the finest wines.

The following morning they had gone browsing and shopping in Emily’s favourite boutiques, shops, markets and galleries. ‘Don’t forget, I’m an old China hand,’ she had confided to Paula with a grin. ‘Trust me and you’ll get the best bargains. Quality merchandise at the right prices.’

BOOK: To Be the Best
7.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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