The Bracelet Read online

  ‘I know that,’ Jacqueline assured her. ‘I’m only saying that I can’t speak for the committee, and I can’t influence them either. Once your name goes forward that’s it as far as I’m concerned. They make their own enquiries.’

  ‘What about safety?’ continued Kristina. ‘How can the women who join be sure they’re safe?’

  ‘I’ve no idea how the checks are done,’ admitted Jackie. ‘The only thing I can tell you is that the whole thing’s been going for five years now and there’s never once been any kind of trouble or scandal. I suppose, looking at it in the cold light of day, there’s an element of danger, risk if you like, but that’s probably what makes it so attractive. You know, rather like turning down a really good offer for a book because you’re sure a better one will come along. You know in your bones you’re right, but there’s always the chance you’re not. You get a thrill from that don’t you?’

  ‘I suppose I do, in a masochistic kind of way!’

  ‘There you are then. Women like us have to be risk takers to a degree, but there’s no fear of physical harm, blackmail or scandal. Probably the worst thing that could happen would be to fall in love with your partner. I heard it happened once and the couple left. This isn’t about love; it’s about desire and sexuality, freedom from responsibility and an escape from real life.’

  ‘You’re not falling in love with Laurence then?’ queried Kristina.

  Jacqueline sighed. ‘Sometimes I think I am, but when I take the bracelet off it isn’t the same. I feel quite differently about him when we’re on equal terms, so I don’t think it’s really a worry.’

  ‘Do you see other men in the society?’ asked Kristina.

  Jackie shook her head. ‘No; I could, but I don’t choose to. Laurence sees other women though. He sometimes tells me about them when I’m wearing the bracelet and I have to listen to how they respond to what he’s doing to me at that particular time.’

  Kristina realised that her breathing had become rapid and shallow and that her lower belly was starting to ache with sexual desire. Suddenly she didn’t want to hear any more about what Jacqueline and Laurence did; she wanted to have a chance to try the experience for herself. Then, at last, she might begin to feel content with her life once more.

  ‘I’d definitely like you to put my name forward,’ she said softly. ‘You and I are very similar. When I saw you with Laurence the other night, saw the way you were together and that special look that you had about you, I envied you. If that’s what this society can do for me, then I want to join now!’

  ‘You must be sure,’ cautioned Jacqueline. ‘If you’re not and you back out at the last minute, then as your proposer I’ll lose my membership as well. We’re not expected to make mistakes of judgement like that.’

  Kristina looked at her friend and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you down. I’m quite sure this is something I want to try.’

  Jacqueline nodded. ‘I think you’ve made the right decision, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed that they accept you! Now, do you want the last of this wine before you go back to patient Ben?’

  ‘I think I’ll go now if you don’t mind. Listening to all this has made me pretty impatient to see him! How will I know if I’ve been accepted?’

  ‘You’ll just get an invitation and that will be it. If you’re not accepted you won’t get one. There’s never any explanation given, and there’s no right of appeal either.’

  ‘How long does it take?’ asked Kristina, shifting restlessly on her chair.

  ‘In my case it took ten days, but I know some women who had to wait over a month. Remember, even if you’re accepted and fed into the computer, some man has to choose you.’

  ‘Yes, well hopefully at least one man will find me a reasonably exciting prospect,’ retorted Kristina.

  ‘If any of the men know you, or rather your reputation, then they will! You of all people should present quite a challenge, and that’s what these men want. They don’t want women who spend their lives being subservient. They want someone who finds it hard to adapt. A mental virgin you might call it!’ Jackie laughed, but Kristina didn’t. She was excited, nervous and on edge, but she certainly wasn’t amused.

  ‘Had a good time?’ asked Ben when she walked into the house.

  ‘Yes thanks. We chatted and had some wine, it made a nice change,’ said Kristina, winding her arms round his neck and kissing him deeply, her tongue flicking between his slightly parted lips.

  Ben drew back in surprise. ‘Hey, what’s all this about?’

  Still aroused by all she’d heard that evening, Kristina rubbed herself against him, her hands starting to unbutton his shirt. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see me back?’

  ‘Sure, but you’ve only been away four hours and in case you’ve forgotten I’ve got a presentation to make at eight in the morning. It’s my working breakfast, remember?’

  Kristina released him, feeling slightly foolish. ‘Sorry, time for bed and Horlicks is it?’

  ‘That’s not fair, Kristina. You’ve been out relaxing, but I’ve been working on this damned advert and I’m still not happy with it. Now I’ve got to try and sleep before convincing the board tomorrow that I’ve got it right and this is the exact slogan they’ve been waiting for for the past six months. Tonight, sex isn’t high on my list of priorities.’

  ‘Fine, sorry, forget it. Your presentation had completely slipped my mind. You go on up; I’ll wait a few minutes, try and unscramble my thoughts. You know what it’s like when you’ve been chattering for hours.’

  ‘I know what it’s like when you’ve been chattering and drinking,’ commented Ben stiffly.

  Kristina felt like hurling one of the sofa cushions after him. There were times, times like tonight, when he could be positively pompous, she thought furiously, and she waited a long time before joining him in bed. Even then her flesh was still tingling, and she longed for some kind of release from the sexual tension that Jacqueline’s revelations had brought about. Ben, sleeping soundly beside her, was an added irritation.

  ‘Damn and blast the man!’ exclaimed Kristina irritably as Sue sat down in the chair opposite her.

  ‘Not Michael Shaw, professional charmer and mildly eccentric publisher?’ asked Sue with a laugh.

  ‘The very same. He’s sat on that manuscript for six months saying how original, witty and clever it is and now he’s decided it doesn’t fit his list. Think of the time we’ve wasted! I’ll have to ring Peter and explain why his clever manuscript isn’t, after all, clever enough and has to go off to someone else.’

  ‘All in a day’s work,’ said Sue soothingly. ‘What’s wrong? It isn’t like you to get so worked up over something like this.’

  Kristina rubbed at her eyes. ‘Sorry, bit tired I guess. You’re right, it is an everyday occurrence. I just happened to have thought we’d definitely got that placed. Never mind, back to the drawing-board. Can you get the emails finished by five-thirty? Only I’d like them all to go off tonight.’

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Sue calmly.

  When she’d left the office, Kristina gave herself a mental shake. It wasn’t really Michael Shaw who’d annoyed her, it was the fact that three weeks had passed since she’d spoken to Jacqueline and she still hadn’t heard a word from anyone. Every time the phone rang or she got a letter she didn’t recognise through the post her pulse would quicken, and then her stomach would plunge with disappointment when it proved to be entirely unconnected with the society of the bracelet. Her phone rang again and she picked it up automatically.

  ‘Yes?’ she queried.

  ‘Is that Kristina Masterton?’ asked an unknown male voice.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘You don’t know me,’ continued the voice, ‘but I selected you from our society’s computer. I wondered if you could meet me at Luigi’s bar in Bayswater tonight at eight forty-five?’

  Her fingers tightened round the receiver and the palms of her hands felt damp. ‘Tonight? I’m not sure that I …’
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  ‘It’s the only night that’s convenient for me,’ the voice continued smoothly.

  It was an unusual voice, soft and yet clipped at the same time, and very grave, as though the owner was used to taking life seriously. Kristina wasn’t certain the man was English.

  ‘In that case I’d better say yes,’ she replied, realising that if she refused he would probably move on to someone else, and she was unwilling to pass up her first chance of a meeting.

  ‘Excellent. I look forward to making your acquaintance this evening. There won’t be a problem over recognition since I’ve seen your photograph in several magazines.’

  Before she could respond to that the line went dead and for several seconds she sat holding the receiver as the dialling tone sounded in her ear. It had happened, she thought triumphantly. Her application had been accepted and now one of the members had sought her out, a man who had seen her photo and knew her line of work.

  Reluctantly she replaced the phone and then sat staring into space. She’d been so on edge waiting for this call that now it had come she didn’t know what to do. She wondered how she should dress, and what they would talk about. She wondered if the man was handsome, and what he did for a living. But above all, she hoped with every fibre of her being that when it came to making love to her he’d know exactly what her body craved, know more about her than even she knew about herself.

  ‘Fool,’ she said sharply. ‘He’s only an ordinary man, just like other men. Don’t build your hopes up too high. Besides, you might never get as far as the bedroom. You might hate each other on sight.’ She hoped not. She’d liked the sound of his voice.

  That evening, when she was dressing to go out, Kristina found herself totally unable to decide what to wear. She was glad that Ben wasn’t home – he’d had a late meeting and was going on to his squash club – otherwise he might have wondered at the amount of time she was spending choosing an outfit.

  She couldn’t work out whether she should look the way the unknown man would expect her to look from the photos he’d seen, or go for an entirely different approach that was more suited to the society and all it involved. In the end she decided to dress as she would for a drink with a client. This man had chosen her for all the qualities he thought he’d seen in her picture and her comprehensive CV. He wouldn’t want her to look different or the reason for the attraction would be gone.

  She settled on a striking bright fuchsia and grey two-piece. The skirt was plain grey, finishing an inch above her knees and with a front slit, while the jacket was fuchsia, nipped in at the waist and with a black and fuchsia collar that had a detachable bib inset. This disguised the depth of the collar. Without the bib most of her breasts would have been revealed. The overall effect was sharp and very striking.

  Luigi’s wine bar was off Queensway and because the traffic was heavier than she’d expected, Kristina arrived two minutes late instead of the five minutes early that she’d planned. She’d wanted to be seated at the bar so that she could see all the men as they arrived. Now she guessed that the stranger, the man who might introduce her to the incredible world that Jacqueline had described, was probably already there.

  Feeling far more self-conscious than usual, she walked through the doors and towards the bar. A man rose from one of the tables set in semi-darkness at the side of the room and blocked her way. ‘Kristina Masterton?’ he asked quietly, holding out his right hand.

  Kristina felt her heart jump into her throat but she kept her voice steady as she too held out her hand. ‘That’s right. I’m sorry I’m a few minutes late.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. The traffic was particularly heavy tonight.’

  Again Kristina noted the carefully correct way he spoke, as though English was not his first language, and after he’d asked her what she’d like to drink and gone over to the bar she was able to study him properly for the first time.

  He was about six feet tall with smooth golden-brown skin and very black hair that had a few streaks of grey. The hair was thick and wavy, swept back off his high forehead. He was wearing an expensive grey silk suit, crisp white shirt and a silver and grey tie and as he returned to their table she saw that he was solidly built with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles.

  Sitting down he poured them each a glass of the Australian Chardonnay. ‘To our meeting,’ he said quietly, his deep-set dark eyes unsmiling.

  Kristina felt slightly intimidated, but she smiled brightly at him. ‘To our meeting,’ she agreed, and sipped at the cool liquid.

  Now that he was close to her she realised that his nose was slightly hooked and his top lip thin, but his lower lip was full, hinting at a sensuality that wasn’t obvious in the rest of his features, apart from his eyes.

  His eyes were startling. They were the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, and so deep-set and shadowed that she couldn’t help thinking of a panda that she’d once seen at London Zoo, while his eyebrows were heavy and winged and his eyelids so dark that they looked almost grey.

  ‘Do I pass?’ he murmured.

  Kristina felt herself blush. ‘I’m sorry, was I staring? I’m afraid my thoughts were miles away. It’s a bad habit of mine, people often think I’m looking at them when really I’m working out what I need to buy for supper!’

  ‘I would have thought your mind was more usually occupied with how many dollars you were likely to get for Lucretia Forrest’s next book at the American auction,’ he responded.

  Kristina nodded approvingly. ‘Very good, you know who one of my clients is.’

  ‘I know all your clients,’ he assured her. ‘I know a great deal about your work, but very little about you yourself, which is why I thought we should have this meeting.’

  ‘What more do you need to know?’ asked Kristina with a smile. ‘After all, you already have the advantage. I know nothing at all about you, not even your name.’

  For the first time since they’d met he smiled, and the sudden lightening of his features, the almost mischievous look that crossed his face, startled her. That smile changed him totally, opening up a vision of an entirely different man with a lightness and humour that she would never have expected. The contrast excited her, suggesting as it did that this was a very complex man.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I quite forgot that you didn’t know! I’m Tarquin Rashid, and I’m a psychologist.’

  ‘A psychologist!’

  ‘You’re surprised?’

  Kristina nodded. ‘I thought psychologists were people who watched how others responded to members of the opposite sex, not people who ever got involved themselves!’

  He shook his head slightly. ‘We’re the same as everyone else. We have the same desires, secrets and needs as anyone.’

  His words changed the atmosphere. Kristina was suddenly acutely aware of her own needs and desires, and right now her most overwhelming desire was to be taken back to Tarquin’s home, given a bracelet to slip on and then to let him show her exactly what he meant by desires and secrets. As his golden-brown hand lifted his glass to his lips she found herself studying the sprinkling of dark hairs on his wrist and felt such a fierce need for him that it startled her.

  ‘I suppose you do,’ she managed to say, moistening her suddenly dry lips. ‘But it must make it difficult to lose yourself in emotions when you’re used to analysing them.’

  ‘Not at all. When I finish work I leave all that behind me,’ he assured her, but she didn’t totally believe him. His eyes were assessing her even as he spoke, and she felt certain that he spent most of his time analysing other people if not himself.

  ‘You’re not English,’ she commented.

  ‘No, a rather strange mixture of cultures I’m afraid. My father is Egyptian, my mother half-Tamil and half-English. What does that make me do you think?’

  ‘Interesting!’ laughed Kristina.

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’ The word was abrupt but his deep-set eyes were placid.

  ‘Have you … belonged to the society very
long?’ asked Kristina, uncertain as to whether or not she could mention the society.

  ‘No, not very long. You, I seem to remember, are a new member.’

  Kristina nodded. ‘That’s right. A friend of mine told me about it.’

  ‘Yes, I think most of us join through word of mouth recommendation. I don’t suppose there’s any other way. They can hardly advertise!’ Once more he gave a sudden smile, and Kristina could imagine being willing to do almost anything in order to make him smile. Almost anything. She shivered at her own thoughts.

  ‘Were you born in London?’ he asked her as he refilled her glass.

  ‘No, Hampshire,’ she responded, and for the next twenty minutes he led her skilfully through a brief resume of her childhood, education and then her astonishingly quick rise to success as a literary agent. Only when she finally stopped talking did she realise quite how much she must have given away about herself, while Tarquin had said nothing at all about his life.

  ‘Your turn now,’ she said quickly.

  He glanced at his watch. ‘Regretfully I have another appointment in twenty minutes, otherwise I would have been delighted to oblige you.’ He half-rose from his chair and extended his hand. ‘It’s been a very interesting meeting. Thank you for keeping the appointment.’

  Kristina stared blankly at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. It seemed that the evening was over, and he’d given no indication at all that he found her in any way attractive or desirable, nor was he speaking as though they were going to meet again.

  She wanted to ask him why. To beg him to see her again because she knew without any doubt that this was exactly the kind of man she’d hoped to meet through the society, but luckily her normal sense of self-worth took over and helped her control her emotions. She might be devastated, but she wasn’t going to show it.

  ‘It was interesting for me too, and if I hadn’t come I’d only have worked so it made a pleasant change.’

  ‘You work every evening?’ he queried.

  Kristina forced herself to laugh. ‘Of course not! My boyfriend, Ben, is playing squash tonight. I usually work when he isn’t around. It’s a chance to catch up on my slush pile.’