The Bracelet Page 22

  It hadn’t been easy, and she knew that Lucretia had every right to make it difficult, but after two lunches, countless telephone calls and then a highly successful meeting with the new editor, Martin Frost, Lucretia had agreed to stay on with the agency.

  Kristina opened a bottle of her favourite wine and poured herself a glass. This was definitely a cause for celebration, and she wasn’t going to let her unhappiness over Tarquin’s silence spoil it. Her business was safe, and she knew now that this was more important than anything. She had to have her own life, play a leading role in the publishing world, because unless she did she would end up like Jackie.

  At the exact moment that she thought of her friend the telephone rang, and she knew that it would be Jackie calling. She called around this time every evening, pouring out an endless stream of complaints and ending up in tears. Nothing Kristina said helped, but still Jackie kept calling.

  ‘Hello,’ she said briskly, hoping that this time the call might be shorter.

  ‘You’re late,’ complained Jackie. ‘I rang at my usual time and got no reply.’

  ‘Late for what? I’m not accountable to anyone any more. I’m a big girl now. We both are, remember?’ said Kristina lightly.

  ‘I just meant later than usual,’ muttered Jackie sulkily.

  ‘I had a long day at work, but it was worth it. Lucretia isn’t leaving the agency, so I live to fight another day! Have a glass of wine for me to celebrate.’

  ‘Have you heard from Tarquin?’ asked Jackie.

  Kristina bit on her bottom lip, ‘No, and as I told you yesterday, I don’t expect to. I took off the bracelet and so, in effect, ended our relationship. He’s no doubt replaced me by now.’

  ‘Laurence thought Tarquin was in love with you,’ said Jackie.

  Kristina blinked hard. Briefly, when he’d taken her home and kissed her gently on the lips as they parted, she’d thought so too. But now, as the silence continued she realised that he had probably only been behaving in the way he thought correct. He was a good man, and a polite one, but he enjoyed the strange erotic excitement of the bracelet, and she could no longer provide that thrill for him. As for a regular girlfriend, she’d known all along that he had Estelle.

  ‘Well, Laurence isn’t exactly an expert on love is he?’ she pointed out.

  ‘I thought he loved me!’ wailed Jackie, and Kristina’s heart sank. ‘I still can’t understand why he never sends for me any more. I did everything he wanted. I wasn’t like you. I never took the bracelet off, and yet he told me that’s why I spoiled it. How can both of them be right? You spoiled it by taking the bracelet off and I spoiled it by leaving it on. That doesn’t make sense!’

  ‘It does,’ said Kristina sadly. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot, and I can see that although we’re on our own it’s for different reasons. You still don’t seem to understand that men like Laurence and Tarquin only wanted self-sufficient women with lives of their own. That was the turn-on for them, to be able to take sexual control of women who were more usually dominant. Once you lost your job and concentrated solely on pleasing Laurence you stopped being the kind of woman he wanted.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t change. You stayed in control and took the bracelet off because you were asked to do something you didn’t want to do. I often wanted to take the bracelet off. There were times when I longed to rebel but I didn’t because I didn’t want to have to lose Laurence like you’ve lost Tarquin. There was no way to win, was there?’

  ‘It wasn’t a competition,’ Kristina pointed out, settling down on the sofa and taking another sip of wine. ‘No one was expected to win. The best thing to do was just enjoy the sexual pleasure and keep emotionally detached. We both made the mistake of getting involved with the men we met. I didn’t want to go with Laurence because I felt that Tarquin and I had something special, so I refused. Now I realise that Tarquin couldn’t have felt the same and I spoiled the night for him.

  ‘You tried to become what Laurence wanted, but all the time, not just when wearing the bracelet, so there was no erotic thrill for him when you put it on, because nothing changed. We shouldn’t have fallen for them, Jackie, but at least you’ve never removed the bracelet. You’ll meet other men. You might even find someone more exciting than Laurence. I won’t because I did remove it, and I have a feeling that kind of information goes on the computer. Sometimes I wonder how I’m going to manage without the release the society of the bracelet gave me, but I don’t think I’ll be sent for again by Tarquin or anyone else.’

  ‘I don’t want to see anyone else,’ complained Jackie.

  ‘Well, you’ve got to do something,’ said Kristina sharply. ‘You can’t sit around at home wasting your brain and your sex appeal for the rest of your life.’

  ‘When you see Laurence, does he ever mention me?’ Jackie asked wistfully.

  Kristina sighed. ‘I haven’t seen him since our last night together. I’ve spoken to him on the phone, but only about his book. He never mentions you or the society.’

  ‘You wouldn’t tell me if he did,’ said Jackie, starting to cry again. ‘I know he fancies you. You’re probably already sleeping together. The fact that you weren’t wearing the bracelet didn’t stop you before.’

  ‘I’m going to get myself something to eat,’ said Kristina, exhausted by her friend’s emotions. ‘There’s no point in ringing me every night. I can’t change what’s happened to either of us. We’ve got to get our own lives in order, and if you really want my advice I think you should get yourself a job and stop thinking about Laurence.’

  She put the phone down and wrapped her arms round her knees. It was easy advice to give, but she knew that during the long hours of the night she often thought about Tarquin.

  He’d become such a large part of her life that it still didn’t seem possible he was no longer involved in it. When they’d parted he’d told her that she’d hear from him some time, but even then she’d suspected that she might not because he’d sounded so vague, as though it might be months rather than days in the future.

  Time and again she’d replayed their sessions of love-making in her mind. She’d remembered the first time he’d sent for her, and the way he’d touched her then. She would shiver with delight at the memory of their urgent love-making at the publishing party, and then tremble as she recalled the time he’d suspended her by her wrists in the room at the top of his house. Their times together had been filled with wonderful, dark eroticism that had allowed her to discover a new side to herself, and having discovered it she found it very difficult to subdue it simply because Tarquin was no longer there.

  Today, one of the senior editors at Saunders Publishing House had asked her to a party the following Saturday, but although he was nice looking and witty she’d refused because she knew instinctively that he’d expect her to be the dominant partner when it came to sex. He possessed none of Tarquin’s charisma, none of the quiet depths that concealed such sensuality, and she realised that she’d rather be alone than with that submissive kind of man again. She’d had too many years with men like that. Tarquin had changed her irrevocably, and now he was lost to her.

  ‘You’ve still got the business,’ she reminded herself fiercely as she put a meal for one in the microwave. ‘You’re successful, you enjoy your work and through the bracelet you learned a lot. Be grateful for that and move on.’ It was sound advice, but like Jackie she knew it would be hard to follow.

  Much later, after she’d listened to some Mozart and watched an old black and white film on TV, she was just about to go to bed when the phone rang again. ‘If that’s Jackie with a midnight weep I’ll scream,’ she muttered, picking up the receiver.

  ‘Yes?’ she asked abruptly.

  ‘Is that Kristina?’ asked a deep, gloriously familiar voice.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her knees suddenly turning to jelly.

  ‘This is Tarquin. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, I’ve been busy working on an outline for this book Roberta Mitchell�
��s interested in.’

  ‘How’s it going?’ asked Kristina brightly.

  He laughed. ‘Not too well. Writing’s more difficult than I realised! But I didn’t call to talk about work. I wondered if you’d care to come round for supper tomorrow night? About eight would suit me very well.’

  ‘I think tomorrow’s all right,’ said Kristina, knowing perfectly well that she was free but not wanting to sound too eager. She waited a few seconds as though consulting her diary. ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

  ‘Good. It will only be the two of us, but if you’d like to dress up please do. In my opinion dressing for dinner should be compulsory, it makes an evening so much more special.’

  ‘Right, I’ll remember that,’ agreed Kristina. ‘It will be lovely to see you again.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve missed you. Goodnight, Kristina, sleep well.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she murmured, but she didn’t sleep well. She hardly closed her eyes all night for excitement as she tried to work out what kind of a ‘special’ evening Tarquin had planned for them both.

  The next day passed in something of a blur for Kristina. She spoke briefly to Laurence about his book, negotiated a good two-book deal for one of her new authors, lunched with an incredibly boring children’s book editor and sent some emails, but all the time she was thinking about the evening that lay ahead of her.

  She wondered whether or not it was going to turn into anything sexual, or if the invitation was simply intended as a polite way of terminating their relationship. She couldn’t believe that was all it was, but on the other hand Tarquin was the kind of man who wouldn’t want to leave any loose ends. If he thought that Kristina was harbouring hopes of continuing their affair but he wanted to end it then he’d certainly make sure she understood this. Her mood swung from one extreme to the other as the hours passed. Sometimes she was picturing them locked in a passionate embrace, at other times she envisaged them sitting in awkward silence at opposite ends of his dining table making stilted small talk.

  When she finally got home she took a long bath then washed her hair in apricot shampoo, conditioned it and finally hung her head upside down, feeling rather like a fruit bat as she dried it with her diffuser. When she straightened up, though, she knew that it had been worth the discomfort. Her dark hair was full of bounce, the soft curls sexily disarranged providing the perfect frame for her face.

  She took more care than usual over her make-up as well, emphasising her dark blue eyes and adding the faintest blush of colour to her naturally pale cheeks. At last, satisfied that she was looking as good as possible, she turned her attention to choosing a dress.

  From what Tarquin had said she sensed that he wanted her to look her best, and she certainly wanted to look her best for him because when she looked her best she always felt sexier. He’d already seen a lot of her evening dresses, but there was one that she’d never worn anywhere yet and she took it out and looked at it carefully.

  She’d bought it on a whim, attracted by the originality of the design, but later she’d lost her courage about wearing it. It wasn’t that it was exceptionally revealing, but it was dramatically different and because it half-concealed most of her body it had a far sexier effect than her more daring numbers.

  Finally she decided that if she was ever to wear it then tonight was the night. Tarquin would appreciate it more than any man she might meet in the future. Once she’d slipped it on, she studied herself carefully in the full-length mirror.

  The dress was plum coloured, a fit-and-flare design with a double layered skirt that ended in jagged points. The narrow shoulder straps were attached to a cobweb-style lace top with a rounded neckline that covered the upper half of her body, was nipped in at the waist and then swept out again in fine lace points that rested just below her hips. The sleeves ended in inverted V-shapes at her wrists, leaving a tiny section of flesh exposed, but apart from that she was totally covered up, although the skin of her arms, upper chest and shoulders could be seen in tantalising glimpses through the cobweb-patterned lace.

  Looking at herself, Kristina felt certain that she’d made the right choice. With a half-smile she clipped gold studs on to her ears and slid her legs into semi-opaque navy holdups before putting on her high-heeled strappy navy shoes. Finally she threw a white shawl over her arm and then went outside to her waiting taxi. Tonight was not a night for driving herself.

  When Tarquin opened his front door to her and she saw the expression in his eyes, Kristina knew for certain that she’d been absolutely right. He gazed at her for so long that she wondered if she was ever going to be asked inside, and then he suddenly came to his senses and stepped back, but he still didn’t stop devouring her with his eyes.

  When he spoke his voice was as quiet and controlled as ever, but Kristina could see that his breathing was more rapid than normal. ‘I see you took my advice and dressed for dinner,’ he remarked.

  ‘Yes. The taxi driver might have had a shock if I hadn’t!’

  He smiled. ‘You might not have arrived here if you hadn’t! It’s a lovely dress, and you look wonderful in it.’

  Kristina smiled back at him. ‘Thank you. It’s lucky I did take your advice. I didn’t expect you to be in a dinner suit.’

  He looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Would you prefer it if I changed?’

  ‘Of course not! I think men look terrific in dinner suits.’

  ‘Good, then even if the food doesn’t come up to the mark we can sit and admire each other!’

  ‘Yes.’ Kristina handed him her shawl and as their fingers brushed she felt a tremor run up her arm. ‘I’m sure the food will be excellent,’ she continued, suddenly feeling terribly nervous.

  ‘I hope so. I have a new chef and this is his first real test. Let’s go into the study and have a drink. We won’t be eating for another half hour yet.’

  It was as though they were strangers, thought Kristina. This was the kind of ritual you went through when you were first being seduced by a man, but for some reason coming at this time after all the things they’d done to each other it was even more exciting and erotic than if they really were new to each other. Somehow, by creating this atmosphere, Tarquin had managed to re-erect the barriers that had originally existed between them and now Kristina was sexually on edge, her senses heightened by the clothes and the atmosphere, her body already aware of the pleasure he could give her but uncertain as to whether he was going to or not.

  He didn’t ask her what she wanted but handed her a glass of very dry martini with a twist of lemon and a lot of ice. ‘I hope you like it,’ he said as he raised his own glass. ‘It’s my speciality.’

  Kristina was just about to take a sip when he put out a hand and stopped her. ‘We must have a toast,’ he said gently.

  She stared at him. ‘Did you have anything special in mind?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘To times past,’ he said at last.

  ‘To times past,’ she echoed, her stomach plummeting with disappointment.

  ‘And times to come,’ he concluded.

  She took a deep breath of relief. ‘And times to come,’ she agreed swiftly, and then she drank. As the ice-cold liquid ran down her throat she knew that Tarquin’s eyes were on the tender skin of her exposed neck.

  ‘When I called you, I wasn’t sure you’d want to come this evening,’ remarked Tarquin as they sat down.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Kristina in surprise.

  ‘I’d asked you to do something you found distasteful. As a result you had to take off the bracelet and so may have felt you’d lost face in front of your friend. That was thoughtless of me and I have to admit I hadn’t thought it through properly. I hadn’t understood the implications for you personally, although naturally I had thought it through from my own viewpoint.’

  Kristina watched him closely. ‘You had?’

  ‘I rarely act on impulse,’ he said slowly.

  Kristina smiled wryly. ‘It’s strange, but I imagined that you unders
tood me. Perhaps the fact that you’re a psychologist, and also very good at making a woman feel special, misled me.’

  ‘I did understand you.’

  Kristina frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  He stared at her and his long lashes blinked rapidly as he tried to assemble his words correctly. Once again she was fascinated by his heavy dark eyelids and the almost imperious structure of his face. Her whole body was aching for him, but she knew what he had to say was important and that she must concentrate.

  ‘I would have been very disappointed if you hadn’t removed the bracelet,’ he said at last.

  Now it was Kristina’s turn to blink in surprise. ‘You mean, you never intended me to go with Laurence? You didn’t want to watch him make love to me?’

  ‘I certainly did not. Ever since I’ve joined the society I’ve known that each of the women I’ve met would remove the bracelet eventually. All the others have disappointed me by removing them far too soon, at a point where I’d hoped they’d still be excited by the adventure and lost in their own pleasure. With you, we’d reached the moment when it was time for you to remove the bracelet. It was no longer needed. Our game was at an end.’

  Kristina’s glass was empty and he refilled it for her. ‘You still look bewildered,’ he commented.

  ‘I am. If our game was over, then that means you’d tired of me and wanted the relationship to end, so why am I here?’

  ‘You misunderstand me. The game was the beginning for me, not the end.’

  ‘The beginning of what?’ she asked.

  ‘A far better adventure. A journey of erotic discovery that might go on for a very long time, but only through the society of the bracelet could I meet the right kind of women, the kind who attracted me physically and mentally, as well as the kind who enjoyed our brand of sexuality.’