morning express train from London to Peterborough. Tim changed for the regional train to Stamford, then caught the bus back to Empingham. Thick black clouds were just beginning to fall over the lip of the southern horizon as the taxi carrying him and the Europol team pulled up in front of the manor; the air was heavy with the smell of ozone.
Lieutenant Krober was in the hallway when Tim walked in. “We didn’t expect you back for a few more days,” he said.
To Tim’s ears the Europol officer sounded strangely guilty. “Yeah, well, London didn’t work for me.”
“I see.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“I am not sure.”
“Not sure? You’re his bodyguard.”
“He has not gone out. He is in the manor. Perhaps working.”
Tim frowned at Krober, who was giving Natalie Cherbun a silent, frantic look. He marched into the living room. Dad wasn’t there, but a navy blue bikini halter was draped over the back of the white leather sofa. Tim stared at it, startled by how familiar it was, one of Stephanie Romane’s swimwear line. The big French doors were open, obviously used that morning. He went out onto the terrace to see if anyone was outside. Behind him he could hear Krober and Cherbun talking in low urgent voices. Nobody was in the garden. The pool was calm and flat, with a single inflatable ball floating in one corner of the deep end.
From somewhere above and behind him came the sound of a girl moaning hoarsely. Tim turned slowly to see that the veranda doors of his father’s bedroom were wide open. He wasn’t conscious of climbing up the iron spiral stairs from the terrace. The next thing he knew he was standing on the veranda while the storm’s precursor breeze stirred the louver blinds along the edge of the broad glass doors. There was another cry from inside the bedroom, sharper this time. A cold dread seeping through Tim’s body produced shivers down his arms and legs as he crept forward to the window frame. His face pressed up against the glass, allowing him to peer through the narrow gap between the blinds.
He was looking directly into Annabelle’s wide-eyed stare, though she seemed unable to see anything through her own rapture. She was kneeling on all fours in the middle of the four poster bed, oiled skin gleaming in the room’s rich lighting. Jeff was positioned behind her, hands gripping her hips, muscles straining as he pulled himself forward, grunting with the effort of penetration. Annabelle’s beautiful features suddenly contorted with a grimace of dirty glee, and she let out a long delighted wail.
The tableau rooted Tim to the spot. All he could do was watch in utter disbelief as his father fucked Annabelle barely three meters in front of him.
They went on and on. He was sure there was never going to be an end to it.
The image blurred. Tim blinked, not understanding what was happening. Then he saw big raindrops were splashing against the glass. The storm had arrived from the south, rolling across the sky to shroud the manor in darkness and thunder. Rain and tears mingled together as they trickled down his cheeks.
38. THE JOY OF KNOWING
ANNABELLE LAY ON THE MATTRESS listening to her pounding heart as her body slowly calmed. The euphoria she’d experienced was still there, ebbing slowly. She could barely believe what he’d made her body do. But that was always the way with Jeff, each time a little further. Her own sexual curiosity was his greatest ally.
A hand stroked the side of her face as he smiled down. She lay there passively, reveling in the way his greedy eyes savored the sight of her. “Now it’s your turn to enjoy me,” he purred.
“Give me a minute,” she said, her breath still coming in shaky gasps.
He gently pulled her hand down to his erect cock. “This won’t wait.”
“How can you possibly still be hard after that?”
“That’s the effect you have on me.”
Annabelle raised her head up, pushing a slick tangle of hair from her face. She looked right into his eyes, experiencing a scary little thrill at how intent he was. After all they’d just done, he still wanted more of her.
And she’d thought last night had been pretty excessive. Once they’d gone up to bed, with the lights off and the big house’s silence engulfing them, it was as if they were the only two people in the whole universe. They’d celebrated with a furiously physical union.
Unlike Derek, who made hopeful suggestions, Jeff knew exactly what he wanted her to do. Any reticence on her part only seemed to excite him further. He showed her how the big bed with its sturdy posts could support her body in a whole variety of new contortions, each one deliberately lewd and sleazy. The oils he made her rub into her skin made her look sensational, and she knew it.
In the end, he was the one person in the world she gave up every inhibition for. She relished proving that commitment physically. Proving she was the best.
“We should go out and make love in the rain,” she suggested. It would be a sweet contrast to his earlier ferocity. From the middle of the bed she could see the drops splatter against the windows.
“Nice idea,” Jeff said. “Except, that’s not rain, it’s a bloody deluge.”
She snuggled back into him, enjoying the warmth and touch of his body. “Next time then.”
“Yes.” He caressed her hair. “Next time.”
She glanced over her shoulder as he ran a finger lightly down her flank, tracing the curve of her hip. There was an expression of gentle curiosity on his face, as if he’d never seen her before, never known how it felt to touch her skin. She loved that aspect of him, that he could be as kind as he could savage, always knowing the right time. “I spent the night with you,” she murmured in wonder. “The whole night.”
“And you’re going to spend tomorrow night here as well,” he said. “And the night after that.”
She smiled bravely, knowing that she’d have to go home then.
Jeff tightened his grip around her. “And when Tim comes back, I’m going to tell him that you’re here to stay now.”
“Jeff!” There was a small instinct that wanted to say no, that not enough time had passed to cushion the shock. But just looking at how serious he was quashed the urge. “Do you mean that?”
“Dead on. And I’m sober this time, too.”
She giggled, and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“I’m the one who benefits from this. You are the perfect male fantasy.”
“I know.” She grinned proudly, looking down at her breasts as she arched her back. “They are good, aren’t they?”
“The biggest and the best.” His tongue moistened one nipple before he started sucking.
She ran her hands over his chest, enjoying the supple play of his muscle. Then her fingers touched his cock; he was still erect. “God, you’re unbelievable.”
Jeff pulled away from her breast just long enough to chuckle contentedly.
“I mean it,” she said. “I’ve been with twenty-year-olds before. They’ve never managed to stay hard for so long.”
“I’m not twenty.” He switched from one breast to the other.
Despite herself, her body was responding; she moaned as indecent fingers started to massage her, sliding smoothly over oiled flesh.
There was a firm knock on the door. “Dr. Baker, sir?” It was Lieutenant Krober’s voice.
“He’s got to be fucking joking,” Jeff grunted.
The knock came again. “Dr. Baker, please, are you there?”
“What do you want?”
“Sir, I believe you should come downstairs, sir.”
“What the hell is happening?”
“Sir, it’s downstairs. Please.”
Annabelle pouted teasingly at the irritation on Jeff’s face. “You’d better go.”
