The Boss's Virgin Page 14

  ‘Black always is, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not when it looks like that!’

  A trio was playing light, popular music, seated on a dais in a corner of the room—a pianist, a drummer, a trombone player. Diners talked over them; the room was quite crowded and bustling with waiters coming and going.

  As they joined the other two Alex rose, smiling. ‘Hello, Pippa, you look very pretty. What an unusual dress.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, then turned to smile at Renata. ‘And you are causing a sensation in that dress, as if you didn’t know!’

  Renata sipped a champagne cocktail, purring like a cat that had swallowed cream. ‘Why, thanks, that’s sweet of you. Now, read the menu and choose your meal; I’m ravenous! I ate a small lunch, now I need something more substantial.’

  Pippa glanced quickly at the menu, which was rather more extensive than the lunchtime menu, decided on minestrone soup followed by chicken Stroganoff with rice.

  The waiter came along to take their order. As he left again, Alex asked her, ‘Did Johnny get Room Service?’

  ‘Yes, cheeseburger and fries!’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind that, myself. I guess I’m primitive—I prefer junk food to the sort of posh stuff they serve here. Mind you, I have to eat a lot of salads and fruit, to keep my weight down. You can’t have a fat golfer, not if you want to win tournaments. Is Johnny okay up there on his own, do you think?’

  ‘He was asleep when we left him, but I told him to ring Reception if he woke up and felt frightened.’ She glanced at Renata, who was toying with her champagne flute, looking bored. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting; I was making sure Johnny settled down in bed.’

  Alex gave her a warm, reassuring smile. ‘That’s okay, it was kind of you to take care of him. He’s a good kid. I’ve got quite fond of him. I promised to take him to one of my tournaments some time. He seemed keen to come along. His friends at school are golf fans, he told me; some of them play at a course near the school. I think he wants to impress them.’ He looked at Randal. ‘If that’s okay with you?’

  ‘In principle, yes, but remember, he’s at school a lot of the time and can’t just go off for the day. In the summer holidays he has plenty of free time, but not at other times of the year.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, Randal, we don’t want to drag around with the kid in tow too often, whining and wanting burgers all the time,’ Renata said with a snap. ‘He’s a nuisance, always wanting attention. Unless we hire a nanny to take care of him. I guess we could do that. I can’t wait for him to grow up a little. I wouldn’t mind a teenager hanging around, someone you can talk to. But little kids are a pain.’

  ‘You’re his mother, for God’s sake! You’re supposed to love him, enjoy taking care of him!’ erupted Randal, glaring at her. ‘Pippa has ten times more patience with him than you do!’

  Renata gave Pippa a derisive glance. ‘Yes, well, Pippa’s obviously the maternal type, doesn’t mind running around after a spoilt, whiny kid.’

  Dark red colour splashed Randal’s cheeks. ‘Johnny is not spoilt, nor is he whiny!’

  Alex chimed in, ‘No, he isn’t. He’s fun, a great kid!’ He made an apologetic gesture. ‘But Renata simply isn’t the motherly type, you know.’

  ‘No, I’m certainly not!’ she said, tossing her head, the diamond earrings dangling from her ears swinging to and fro.

  Alex added, ‘Some women are, some aren’t.’

  ‘We’re not all the same!’ Renata drawled, giving Pippa another of those dismissive looks.

  Alex said, ‘Maybe Pippa has the sort of mother who’s a maternal role model, the type who loves kids, cooks, cleans the house—all those old-fashioned things a modern woman doesn’t want to waste her life doing.’

  ‘Is it a waste of life?’ queried Pippa. ‘You think so?’ Her tone made it clear she didn’t agree.

  ‘Well, no, I guess not, if that’s what you enjoy,’ Alex placated, smiling at her. ‘But Renata’s mother was a career woman who left her with a nanny and never bothered about her—you can understand why Renata isn’t the motherly type when you know that.’

  Brusquely, Randal retorted, ‘Pippa is an orphan. She had no mother at all, and grew up in orphanages and foster homes. She had no motherly role model.’

  It made her feel odd to hear him defending her, explaining her. She was touched; maybe he understood her better than she had imagined.

  Alex looked at her with sympathy. ‘That must have been tough; not a fun childhood, I guess. I bet you’re dying to have a family now, to finally have all the things you never had as a child.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Pippa admitted, feeling Randal’s eyes on her profile.

  Renata drawled. ‘Which explains why you’re so keen to take care of Johnny! You get a ready-made family right off.’

  Their first course arrived in time to save Pippa answering that; she felt resentment burning in her throat and would have liked to slap Renata’s face. Instead, she concentrated on the food. When conversation did start again it was Randal, asking Alex about his golf success, and Pippa didn’t have to join in; she just sat there, listening. Every so often Renata leaned towards Randal and spoke softly to him, sometimes letting her red-tipped fingernails drift along his sleeve, smiling at him, her long, false lashes flicking up and down.

  He watched her with an expression in his eyes that Pippa could not read. At times she felt he disliked his ex-wife; at other times she thought he was still fascinated by her, sexually responsive to her.

  Renata was so beautiful. How could any man not be responsive to looks like that? She radiated sex appeal.

  ‘Do you like sport, Pippa?’ Alex asked her, and the other two turned to stare at her.

  ‘I like watching it; Wimbledon, for instance. I always enjoy that on TV. But I wouldn’t say I was the sporting type. I’ve never had the time; I’ve always had to work too hard. I’m afraid I’ve never even played golf, or watched it. And it’s an expensive sport, isn’t it? You need clubs and the right shoes, and stuff.’

  ‘Johnny said something about going riding this weekend,’ Renata said. ‘Are you two going with him?’

  ‘I shall, but Pippa probably won’t,’ Randal told her.

  ‘I haven’t got the right gear,’ she said, meeting Renata’s contemptuous smile with dislike.

  When they were drinking their coffee after the meal people began dancing on a small parquet floor in front of the band’s dais. Renata stood up, held out her hand to Randal.

  ‘Shall we?’

  He hesitated, but eventually rose and took her hand. They threaded their way through the tables and began to dance the waltz being played. Jealousy stung inside Pippa; she looked down, reluctant to watch them, Randal’s arm around his ex-wife’s waist, her arm around his neck, their bodies very close, moving in harmony.

  ‘Would you care to dance, Pippa?’ Alex asked her without real enthusiasm, and she shook her head, smiling politely.

  ‘Sorry, I’m too tired.’

  ‘It’s not a very good band,’ he grimaced.

  She laughed. ‘No.’

  A moment later a waiter came over to them and bent to murmur in her ear, ‘Reception has had a message from your suite, madam. Your little boy seems to be upset.’

  She was on her feet immediately, relieved to have an excuse for leaving. ‘Thank you, I’ll go up to him.’ She smiled at Alex. ‘Please give my excuses to Renata and Randal. It was a pleasure to meet you. Goodnight.’

  When she got upstairs and let herself into the suite she heard low sobbing from the double bedroom and hurried through there at once. Johnny was a heap in the bed, lying on his face, crying quietly. Pippa sat down on the bed and lifted him, turning him towards her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He hiccuped. ‘I had a nightmare.’

  His face was damp and flushed, his eyes wet. Pippa laid him down again and went to the bathroom, ran water over a flannel, squeezed some of the water out before taking it to bathe John
ny’s hot face.

  She got him orange juice from the mini fridge in the room, brushed his tangled hair back from his face, made him sit up to drink his juice.

  ‘What was the nightmare about?’

  ‘I was being chased by something. I couldn’t see what it was, it was dark, but it made horrid noises.’

  ‘I hate dreams like that,’ she said, and his small body fitted itself against her heavily.

  ‘Do you have them?’

  ‘Oh, yes, everyone does, even grown-ups—they’re the worst, because you don’t know what’s after you.’

  He finished his juice. She took the glass from him as he yawned.

  ‘Tired?’ she murmured, helping him to lie down again. ‘You go back to sleep; I’ll stay here. You only have to yell and I’ll come running.’

  His eyes had closed; in the lamplight she saw his lashes flutter down against his flushed cheeks. What had he been dreaming about? she wondered. What monsters haunted his sleep?

  When she was sure he was breathing rhythmically, fast asleep, she tiptoed out into the sitting room, leaving one lamp burning beside the bed, in case Johnny woke again.

  Going into her own bathroom, she undressed, washed, put on a white silk nightdress and matching robe, brushed her chestnut hair, then returned to the sitting room and lay down on the couch to read her book. She did not want to be out of earshot in case Johnny called her.

  At some point she fell asleep; the book slipped to the floor. She did not have nightmares; she was too tired to dream.

  She woke with a start, hearing a sound, and looked up to find Randal sitting beside her, his fingers stroking her cheek.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ she said, startled, shifting to dislodge his hand. ‘Did Alex explain why I left? Johnny had a nightmare, but he’s asleep again now.’

  ‘I know. I checked just now. He’s deeply asleep. Thanks for coming up to take care of him.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ Under his possessive stare she was suddenly conscious of her bare legs, of her semi-transparent nightdress, the silk clinging to her warm body, her breasts visible at the low neckline. ‘Well, I’ll go to bed myself now and leave you to take care of Johnny.’ She tried to slide off the couch but Randal was in the way, his lean body blocking her escape route.

  As he bent his head she wailed, ‘No, Randal!’

  It was a vain protest. His mouth hit hers with a demand that left her too weak to fight the seductive sensuality of that kiss, the caressing hands roaming over her, stroking her bare throat, her shoulders, sliding down inside the nightdress to touch her breasts, wandering up over her bare legs, while all the time she quivered, drawn by the magnetic power of Randal’s body against hers.

  She knew what would happen if she didn’t stop him, yet she was helpless to do a thing about his lovemaking. Every inch of her was shuddering with pleasure under his hands, his mouth; she ached to have him inside her again, to be taken to that wild peak of ecstasy.

  Then they both heard a stir in the further room, a whimper from the child sleeping in there, and Randal sat up, his head turned that way, listening.

  Pippa took her opportunity and wriggled out from the couch. ‘You’d better go and see if he’s okay,’ she said, and fled, trembling, before Randal could stop her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NEXT morning, as they ate a very late breakfast downstairs, Renata and Alex came in to say goodbye. Alex was casual in jeans and a bright yellow sweatshirt. Renata was dressed as for some grand occasion, a film premiére, perhaps, or a fashionable cocktail party, wearing a skintight sky-blue dress with hardly any back and very little above the waist at the front. Other guests, eating egg and bacon or fresh fruit, stopped to goggle in disbelief at this vision.

  Her son looked pinkly embarrassed; his mother was not dressed the way he thought mothers should dress at breakfast time.

  Randal’s brows rose but he was very polite.

  ‘Have a safe trip, and let us know in advance next time you’re coming to see Johnny.’ He held out a hand. ‘Nice to talk to you, Alex; I must bring Johnny along to watch you play some time soon.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Alex said, shaking hands.

  ‘Me, too,’ Johnny eagerly chimed in, and everyone smiled indulgently at the boy.

  Alex shook hands with Pippa, who was dressed in a pleated brown skirt and dark green sweater, very differently from Renata. ‘I enjoyed getting to know you, Pippa. I hope we’ll meet again.’

  She smiled back. ‘Nice to meet you, Alex.’

  Renata looked pointedly at her watch. ‘We ought to be getting on our way. Do come along, Alex!’ She didn’t bother with courtesies; she wanted to get away as soon as possible, and made that clear.

  Alex obeyed, his expression a little wry. People watched them leave, whispering—no doubt many of them recognised Alex, who was, after all, quite famous.

  Renata hadn’t spoken to, let alone kissed her son, Pippa realised, wondering if the boy had been hurt. She found Renata’s indifference to the pain she might inflict baffling. What sort of woman was she? Across the table her eyes met Randal’s; he grimaced silently at her. He had noticed that Renata had ignored their son, too. There wasn’t much Randal ever missed.

  He returned his attention to the fresh fruit and croissants he was eating. Johnny had decided on a full English breakfast, which he claimed he ate at school most mornings. Pippa couldn’t even look at his food; it made her feel sick. She was eating fresh figs and Greek yoghurt, then she might eat a slice of toast.

  ‘This morning, I thought we’d go for a walk around the hotel grounds,’ Randal suggested. ‘Unless you want to do some shopping, Pippa. There’s a large discount shopping centre a few miles away—would you like to go there?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d rather go for a walk.’

  Johnny beamed at her. ‘There’s a crazy golf course here; we could have a game.’

  ‘Why not? I’ve never played any sort of golf, but I don’t mind trying my hand.’

  ‘You’ll soon learn,’ Johnny paternally assured her. ‘I’ll teach you. I’m quite good, for my age—Alex said so.’

  The weather was bright but a little blustery and slightly cool. The walk was very enjoyable and the game of crazy golf had her and Johnny in fits of laughter. Randal played, too, but seemed abstracted.

  Johnny won the game and Pippa bought him an ice cream back at the hotel, as a prize. He took it upstairs to the suite with him and ate it watching the inevitable cartoons on the TV in the bedroom.

  Pippa and Randal retreated to the sitting room. She curled up in an armchair; he sat down on the couch close by.

  ‘I talked to the riding stables. They do have some boots and hats for hire,’ Randal said. ‘But no jodhpurs. They said you could wear jeans, though. You’ve got some with you, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but I’d rather not ride, if you don’t mind. I think it would be good for you to be alone with Johnny, for one thing. For another, I’m not wild about riding horses. And I thought I’d take a siesta this afternoon. I’ve had a very tiring week, one way and another; I need a long rest.’

  He nodded soberly. ‘Yes, no doubt it’s been traumatic, but at least it’s all over now, and you know the outcome has been good for you. You’d have been insane to marry Tom; he’s a decent enough guy but he’s as dull as ditchwater and you didn’t love him.’

  ‘Don’t talk about him!’ she muttered, keeping a wary eye on the door in case Johnny appeared there. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’

  ‘I know you love me,’ he coolly informed her, taking her breath away.

  She sat upright, face flushing dark red, then turning white. ‘You know nothing of the kind! Your vanity is mind-blowing. What on earth makes you think I love you? I’ve got more sense.’

  He sat down on the arm of her chair, caught her face between his palms and kissed her fiercely. She couldn’t escape or avoid that devouring mouth, and after a moment of writhing indignation she stopped wanting to, her lips qu
ivering under his, her arms going round his neck.

  Without lifting his mouth, he whispered, ‘Tell me, Pippa. Tell me you love me. Stop lying to me, and yourself. I love you; you know that. Yesterday I discovered you love me too; you’d never given yourself to me if you didn’t. So, tell me! I need to hear you saying it.’

  A single tear rolled down from under her closed lids. She gave a small, pathetic sob, pushing at his powerful chest, trying to make him let go of her.

  ‘All you ever think about is what you need. What about what I need?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Time,’ she groaned. ‘Time to think. I’m so confused. A week ago I was planning my marriage to Tom. Now here I am, with you. I feel as if I’ve been through an earthquake. The landscape of my life has been torn up; I don’t know where I am, or what I want to do. And you keep pushing me, trying to make me do what you want me to do! Leave me alone, Randal. Give me some time and space to work out how I really feel!’

  He studied her, frowning, then dropped a light kiss on her nose. ‘Okay, we’ll talk about it some other time. But you do like Johnny, don’t you? I’ve been watching you with him; I can see you do. I know you said you wanted to be first with anyone you married, not come second after their child—but that was before you got to know Johnny. Do you still feel the same?’

  She worried her lower lip, sighing. ‘I don’t know. No, I suppose not. Seeing him with his mother, I felt so sorry for him. I had a loveless childhood, myself—that’s why I badly want to be loved, to come first with the man I marry. I can understand where Johnny’s coming from, though; I’ve been through what he’s going through. And I think it’s worse for him, because he does have a mother who’s alive, but seems quite indifferent to him, whereas I had nobody. I was lonely and neglected but I wasn’t getting hurt the way Johnny is.’

  Grimly, Randal said, ‘Renata’s a selfish woman who puts herself first, always has. You see, that’s what happens when a woman demands to come first.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ she protested angrily. ‘I never said I’d put myself first if I ever had a child!’