Scarlet Women

She sat up, ran her hands through her hair, clutched her arms around her knees. ‘I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life as I was to see you, when you pitched up at Dolly’s place. Do you think you can really square it with Redmond?’

‘It’s done, that’s who I was speaking to on the phone when we got in,’ said Constantine, smoothing a hand down her back.

He’d taken her up to the bedroom, then gone back downstairs to his study. Ten minutes, and he’d been back. Redmond sorted. Or was he?

‘Hey, he wants to kiss my ass, or have you forgotten?’ Constantine went on when she sent him a dubious glance. ‘He still thinks I might cut him in on some business.’

Annie looked back at him. ‘And will you?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘If he goes against you, he goes against me.’

Annie nodded, but she wasn’t completely reassured. She knew that Redmond was no normal man. She knew that he and his twin had been abused as children, and that the trauma of it had made them both cold and controlling. What lengths might Redmond go to, to get hold of Mira? And why was he so intent on doing that?

‘Dolly’s really pissed off with me. Did you explain to him that it wasn’t down to her? That it was nothing to do with her?’

‘Yep, I did. Say, what’s the deal with this Mira?’

‘Let’s just say that a lot of things that didn’t make any sense before are starting to add up now,’ said Annie. She stared at Constantine. ‘And you’re really not intending to cut him in on the clubs up West?’

She was keeping it businesslike, even though she was here in this intimate situation with this extraordinarily gorgeous man, even though something softer would be in order, some warm words of love or adoration; anything rather than chewing on and on about a business matter that he had already reassured her over.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ said Constantine, ‘didn’t I already say it was cool? What do you want, that I should try to hammer the deal down with you? That I should ask for extras? Actually,’ he smiled, ‘I think I’ve just had those.’

‘I don’t want the Delaneys stepping in, that’s all,’ said Annie, now feeling as flustered as a teenager on a first date.

‘They are not stepping in,’ said Constantine. ‘They are not anywhere near stepping in, okay? Three thousand sterling a month’s not a bad deal, and the Carters have done a good job over…I guess it’s six, seven years…so that’s sorted and there’s no need for concern. Or are you just trying to keep this business when it so obviously is pleasure?’

Yeah, he was clever. Like Max had been clever. Good at reading signs. Perceptive. It was fucking irritating how clever he was.

Because he’d hit the nail square on the head. She felt uneasy with all this. Happy about it, yes—but worried too. Of course, if she hadn’t enjoyed this little interlude (and here she glanced at her Rolex and discovered that in fact it had not been so little. In fact, they had been indulging themselves shamelessly for nearly three hours), she wouldn’t feel quite so bad about it all. But enjoy it she had. She owned up to that. To be touched, caressed, overwhelmed by passion, she had forgotten how good all that could feel.

But now what? Where did it go from here?

‘You know your trouble?’ Constantine said, sitting up and dropping a kiss on to her forehead.

‘No, what?’ asked Annie distractedly.

‘You think too much. Analyse too much. Agonize too much.’

‘You think so?’

‘I do.’ His mouth moved to her lips. His tongue ran warmly over them, parted them. After a moment, Annie kissed him back. Jesus, this man was seriously hot. She could feel his erection stirring again against her hip, feel her own insides melting like cheese on a hotplate.

Then Annie could hear the sound of the front door opening, and then voices, male and female. She became aware that the female voice was young-sounding, and distinctly American, and she stiffened.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked, sitting up.

Constantine sprawled back on the bed and groaned. ‘It sounds like…’ he started, and then the female American with the young-sounding voice yelled, ‘Papa! Papa, where are you?’

Annie looked at Constantine.

He looked at her. Sighed. ‘Sounds like Cara,’ he said.

‘Where is he…?’ they heard Cara ask impatiently, and again the male voice, maybe telling her not to do what she was about to do, but then they heard light footsteps coming quickly up the stairs.

Annie tucked the sheet up around her and shot her lover a furious look.

‘Constantine,’ she said warningly, but he was springing off the bed already, slipping on his robe, belting it. Before Cara could come bursting in—couldn’t these people ever knock on doors?—he opened the bedroom door and went out on to the landing, closing the door firmly behind him.

Annie sat there, royally annoyed, feeling like a stupid kid caught necking in the back of a car. She slumped back on the bed, hearing their murmuring voices right outside the door. Any moment she expected the spoiled brat to come bursting in, demanding to know what her father was doing in bed with a woman in the middle of the afternoon.

Eventually, she heard Cara walking off along the landing, and Constantine came back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

‘Can you stick a chair under that handle?’ asked Annie in annoyance.

She grabbed her undies and started to get dressed.

‘You don’t have to go yet,’ he said, coming over to the bed and sitting down.

‘Yeah, I do. I’ve got business to see to. Can I use this phone?’

He nodded. Annie called Tony’s place, and he said he’d be there in ten minutes.

She put the phone down and got dressed.

Annie held up her hair so that Constantine could zip up her dress.

Maybe Cara had done her a favour, interrupting them. Did she really need any more complications in her life? Did she really want the boys turning against her? Did she really want to embark on a full-blown affair with someone whose family clearly disliked her and saw her as an unwelcome interloper, someone who was based on the other side of the Atlantic, for God’s sake?

Annie fiddled for her bag, got out her brush, applied it with hard strokes to her hair. Avoided his eyes. ‘I’m not sure about any of this,’ she said, keeping her gaze averted.

‘Hey.’ He caught her shoulders, forced her to look at him. ‘Hey. Mrs Carter.’

‘What?’ demanded Annie tensely, her eyes meeting his. Oh God, she loved his eyes.

‘No pressure,’ he said. ‘And…’

‘And what?’

‘I love you,’ he said, and kissed her.

No pressure, my arse, thought Annie.

Chapter 37

Annie told Tony where she wanted to go next, and Tony drove in silence. It wasn’t his usual relaxed, amiable silence, however. This silence had a voice, and that voice was disapproving. Annie read the paper in the back seat and waited for him to tell her what was wrong. He kept glancing at her in the rear-view mirror then, when she glanced at him in return, his eyes flicked away.

She sighed and looked at the paper. Ulster was still in turmoil, Coronation Street had been running for a thousand episodes now. She put the paper aside.

‘All right,’ she said at last. ‘Come on. Say it.’