Up Close and Personal (30 page)

‘What are
you
going to do this afternoon?’ she asked him.

Dante chased a sundried tomato half-heartedly round his plate. ‘I think I’ll take a nap. I’m feeling pretty tired.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Juliet remarked. ‘What time did you get back last night?’

‘Three thirty.’ Dante smiled as he recalled the ruby wedding anniversary celebrations the golf club had hosted
in one of its more modest function suites. ‘It was a great night,’ he said. ‘The supervisor even let me design a special cocktail for the occasion. Oh, and he’s asked me to work next Saturday. That’s okay, isn’t it?’

Juliet looked put out. ‘I feel as if I’ve hardly seen you this past week,’ she said. ‘Can’t you find a job with more social hours?’

‘But I like working at the club,’ Dante replied. ‘The money’s good too.’

Juliet said nothing, just shook her head sadly.

‘You knew I was a bartender when you married me,’ Dante snapped, annoyed at her reaction. ‘What did you expect?’

Juliet’s eyes flitted around the packed restaurant. ‘Let’s not have an argument in here, all right?’

Dante drove his fork through the sundried tomato. ‘Who’s arguing?’

They ate the rest of their lunch in silence. Dante felt as if there were a gaping chasm between them. Ever since his conversation with Orla at the fundraiser, nearly two weeks earlier, he’d been torturing himself with thoughts of Juliet and Nathan together. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. If the pair had once been lovers, it would certainly explain why Juliet was always so quick to spring to Nathan’s defence – not to mention the general air of smugness the general manager exuded in his presence. Dante was also starting to see Nathan’s attempt to publicly humiliate him at the Best Dressed Pet competition in a whole new light. Originally, he’d assumed the manager – resentful that another man
had usurped his position as top dog at Ashwicke – had been displaying some sort of warped territorial instinct. But now he realized it could just as easily have been the act of a jealous lover. Perhaps, Dante hypothesized, Nathan had been hoping his affair with Juliet would develop into something more – that he would be elevated from his position as chief flunky to lord of the manor. And then Juliet had returned from Aspen with Dante in tow, and his little fantasy had been shattered. No wonder the manager didn’t like him.

The one thing Dante couldn’t understand was what Nathan was still doing at Ashwicke. Why on earth would Juliet deliberately keep her husband and her former lover in such close proximity? Surely the sensible thing to do would have been to let Nathan go the minute she returned from Aspen – albeit, Dante reflected savagely, with a generous severance deal for services rendered. And then, as he worked things through in his mind, he realized there
was
one explanation: that Juliet’s affair with Nathan had never ended and was continuing even now, right under his nose. With some difficulty, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was too repulsive to even contemplate.

When the bill came, Dante insisted on paying, using his wages from the night before. It gave him a certain sense of satisfaction, knowing he was looking after Juliet, even in such a small and insignificant way. He was also acutely aware that Gus was the sort of man who would always have picked up the tab – no matter what the cost. As the couple left Gaston’s and prepared to part company, Juliet offered him the keys to the Land Rover. ‘Why don’t you take the car?’ she said. ‘I can get a cab.’

‘No, you have it,’ he insisted. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache; the fresh air will do me good.’

As Juliet turned to go, Dante touched her shoulder. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ he said, tapping his lips with a forefinger.

Smiling, Juliet stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss. As their lips brushed, Dante felt a jolt of electricity. Even after three months of marriage, she still had that effect on him.

Dante took his time walking home. It had been raining earlier and a soft, damp breeze, smelling of honeysuckle and freshly mown grass, was blowing through the trees. When he turned into the driveway, still deep in thought, he noticed Nathan standing at the open door of the lodge. He was leaning against the lintel smoking a cigarette as he stared out across the lawn. Dante continued walking, head bowed, acting as if he hadn’t seen the other man but, as he drew level with the lodge, Nathan called out to him.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Fisher,’ he said with a faux deference that made Dante want to punch him in the kidneys.

‘Afternoon,’ Dante replied gruffly.

‘Isn’t Mrs Fisher with you?’

Dante stopped and turned his head towards Nathan. ‘I thought it was your day off,’ he said accusingly.

‘It is.’

‘In that case, why do you give a shit
where
she is?’

Nathan stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, but his fish-like eyes never left Dante’s. ‘I wanted to let her know that the garden centre dropped off some compost for the vegetable patch,’ he said tonelessly. ‘I noticed the pair of
you going out in the car earlier, so when I saw the delivery van I intercepted it.’

Dante flashed him an insincere smile. ‘How very thoughtful of you.’

Nathan reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced a crumpled piece of paper. ‘Here’s the delivery docket. Perhaps you could give it to Mrs Fisher and let her know that her compost is behind the greenhouse.’

‘Fine,’ Dante replied, snatching the paperwork out of his hand.

‘When do you think she might be back?’ Nathan persisted.

‘I’ve no idea; she’s got a meeting at the bank. Why do you want to know?’

Nathan’s mouth twitched. ‘No particular reason.’

‘I had a headache, so I came back early,’ Dante added, not wanting him to know the real reason he wasn’t at the bank with Juliet. ‘I’m going upstairs to take a nap.’

‘Oh dear,’ the manager said unconvincingly. ‘I hope you’re feeling better soon.’

Dante looked at Nathan, trying to see him objectively, as a woman might. He was handsome in a saturnine sort of way, with a good physique. Plenty of females would doubtless find him attractive. Sighing, he set off towards the house.

The minute Dante was out of earshot, Nathan went into the lodge and picked up the phone. He punched in a number, tapping his foot impatiently as he listened to the ring tone. Finally, Orla picked up.

‘Hi, Nathan,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

‘We’re good to go,’ the manager replied tersely. ‘He’ll be back at the house in three minutes and he’s heading straight upstairs. You know what to do, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.’

‘And don’t forget to call me as soon as it’s over. I want to know every gory detail.’

Orla laughed softly. ‘You’re one twisted fucker, do you know that?’

‘Just get on with it,’ Nathan hissed. He put down the receiver without waiting for her reply.

Dante pushed open the front door. Beyond it, the house lay quiet as a tomb. Only one of the guest bedrooms was occupied – by a pair of middle-aged ramblers, whose packed itinerary meant they were rarely at the hotel during daylight hours. As he pulled off his sweater, Jess came bounding along the corridor to greet him.

‘Hello, girl,’ he said, smiling as she pushed her muzzle against his thigh. It was nice to have some company, even if it were only of the canine variety. He made a fuss of her for several minutes, then gently extricated himself and walked towards the staircase. The pointer stared after him dolefully. She knew she wasn’t allowed upstairs.

‘Sorry, dog,’ Dante called out as he reached the half-landing. ‘I gotta lie down.’

At this, Jess collapsed onto her belly and rested her head on the bottom step. However long it took, she would wait.

As Dante entered the master bedroom, a familiar perfume greeted his nostrils: orange blossom … from Juliet’s favourite Jo Malone bubble bath. Thinking little of it, he stooped down and began unlacing his trainers. A split second later, a long, contented sigh came from the direction of the en suite. Frowning, Dante looked towards the source
of the sound. The bathroom door was fractionally ajar. He stood up and walked slowly across the room.

Whatever he’d been expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t this. Orla was lying in the bath. She had her eyes closed and her head was resting on Juliet’s inflatable cushion. Her long hair was floating loose around her shoulders and her bare breasts with their dark nipples were clearly visible above the foaming water. On the bathmat lay her chambermaid’s black dress, together with a chocolate lace bra and matching G-string. It made an arresting – not to mention intensely erotic – tableau. For a few seconds, Dante stared at her appreciatively. Then he collected himself. ‘Jesus, Orla, what do you think you’re doing?’

Her eyes flew open. ‘Shit!’ she said, gripping the sides of the bath. ‘I thought I had the place to myself.’

Dante folded his arms across his chest. ‘And do you always make yourself at home like this when we’re out?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said guiltily, sinking deeper into the water so the bubbles came right up to her chin. ‘The boiler in my flat’s packed up and the engineer can’t come till tomorrow. I’ve been having freezing showers for the past two days. So …’ She licked her lips nervously. ‘When I saw you and Juliet go out, I thought I’d have a quick bath after I’d finished my cleaning.’

Dante looked at his watch pointedly. ‘A
quick
bath? Your shift ended over an hour ago.’

‘Yeah, well, I guess I was enjoying myself too much. This bubble bath’s gorgeous. I only used a tiny bit, mind.’ Suddenly her face clouded over. ‘Is Juliet with you?’

‘No, she’s got a meeting in town. She won’t be back for a while.’

Orla sighed. ‘Thank God for that. She’d probably sack me for this.’ She winced. ‘You’re not going to tell her, are you?’

Dante shook his head. ‘No, don’t worry.’ He half turned, suddenly embarrassed at being in the same room as a naked woman who wasn’t his wife. ‘I’ll leave you to it, but don’t be too long, okay?’

‘Sure. Thanks, Dante, I really appreciate it. Oh, and before you go …’ She pointed to the tall shelf unit in the corner of the room. ‘Do me a favour and pass me one of those towels, will you?’

As he reached for a towel, Dante gave a giant yawn. ‘’Scuse me,’ he said, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I was working late at the golf club last night.’

‘So they hired you again,’ Orla said. ‘That’s great news.’

‘Yeah, but it’s playing havoc with my body clock.’ Dante frowned, aware that the dull throbbing in his temple was increasing in intensity. ‘I’ve got a killer headache too. I need to lie down.’ He dropped the towel on the bathmat beside Orla’s clothes. ‘I’ll go to one of the guest rooms, so you can have some privacy.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ Orla said, her voice soft with concern. ‘Just give me two ticks and I’ll be out of your way.’

Back in the bedroom, Dante kicked off his trainers and went over to the window. He could see the lodge in the distance, but there was no sign of Nathan. Remembering their earlier encounter, Dante’s jaw tensed. The guy was such an idiot. Not like his sister – it was hard to believe they were related. Orla was a nice girl; he didn’t mind helping her out. He pulled the curtains together and went over
to the bed. The pillow felt blissfully cool beneath his cheek. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but the jackhammer in his head wouldn’t let up.

A few minutes later he heard footsteps padding across the bedroom floor and then the mattress dipped. Dante rolled onto his back and opened one eye. Orla was sitting next to him. She was wrapped in a towel that barely covered her thighs. Her dress and underwear were draped across her arm.

‘How’s that headache?’ she asked him.

He blinked a few times. ‘Um, it feels like it’s getting worse.’

‘Poor Dante,’ she murmured, as she let her clothes slide to the floor. ‘Would you like me to give you an Indian head massage? I learned how to do them when I was in Goa last year.’

He lifted a leaden arm and batted his hand at her. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.’

‘Why don’t you just let me try?’ she said, shifting her weight and giving him a glimpse of the inviting valley between her breasts.

Ignoring his weak protestations, she leaned over him and placed the fingertips of both hands on his head, rotating them in a gentle circular motion.

‘Close your eyes,’ she whispered, as her hands moved deftly across his scalp. ‘Try to relax.’

Sighing, Dante did as he was told. Orla clearly knew what she was doing because after only a few minutes he felt the pain start to recede.

‘That feels good,’ he said.

She didn’t say anything but he heard her breath quicken.
A minute or so later, her soothing hands moved to his forehead as she gently drew her fingers along his brow line.

‘Man,’ Dante moaned. ‘You should do this for a living.’

A moment later, he felt an altogether different sensation on his skin. Startled, he opened his eyes to find Orla planting soft kisses on his forehead.

‘What are you doing?’ he said, twisting his head away.

She looked at him with a wounded expression. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?’

‘It’s not that.’

‘So what is it?’

‘I’m married, Orla,’ he said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. ‘We shouldn’t be here, alone like this. Why don’t you go back into the bathroom and put your clothes on and we’ll forget this ever happened.’

‘Is that what you want?’ she said huskily. ‘Is that what you really want?’

As she spoke, she reached up and tugged at her towel. It fell away from her body and then there she was, kneeling on the bed beside him, naked as the day she was born.

Even though the room was dark, Dante could see what a good body she had, her slender torso only accentuated by the full, high breasts and rounded hips. He opened his mouth to give a reply, but no words came out. His brain was saying
no
, but his rapidly stiffening cock was saying
yes.

Sensing his hesitation, she picked up his hand and placed it on her breast.

‘No,’ he said weakly. But his hand didn’t move.