Yes, it was the place I bought when I’d made my first few million, but believe it or not it’s been irritating me lately. I think I’ve become accustomed to a little more chaos.’ He grinned, very relaxed now that he could see a definite way forward and liked what he saw.
Suddenly the reality of Raoul actually living with them made her giddy with apprehension. Would there be parameters to their marriage? It wouldn’t be a normal one, so of course there must be, but was this something she should talk about now? Were there things she should be getting straight before she entered into this binding contract?
‘Er … we should really talk about … you know …’
He paused and looked down at her. She had one small hand resting on his arm.
‘What your expectations are …’ Sarah said stoutly.
Raoul’s brows knitted into a frown. ‘You want a list?’
‘Obviously not in writing. That would be silly. But this isn’t a simple situation …’
‘It’s as simple or as difficult as we choose to make it, Sarah.’
‘I don’t think it’s as easy as that, Raoul. I’m just trying to be sensible and practical. I mean, for starters, I expect you’d like to draw up some kind of pre-nup document?’ That had only just occurred to her on the spur of the moment—as had the notion that laying down guidelines might confer upon her some sort of protection, at least psychologically. The mind was capable of anything, and maybe—just maybe—she could train hers to operate on a less emotional level. At least to outward appearances. Besides, he would be mightily relieved. Although, looking at his veiled expression now, it was hard to tell.
‘Is that what you want?’ Raoul asked tonelessly—which had the instant effect of making Sarah feel truly horrible for having raised the subject in the first place.
In turn that made her angry, because why should he be the only one capable of viewing this marriage with impartial detachment? What was so wrong if she tried as well? He didn’t know what her driving motivation for doing so was because he wasn’t in love with her, but why should that matter? He didn’t have the monopoly on good sense, which was his pithy reason for their marriage in the first place!
‘It might be a good idea,’ she told him, in the gentle voice of someone committed to being absolutely fair. ‘We don’t want to get in a muddle over finances later on down the road. And also …’ She paused fractionally, giving him an opportunity for encouragement which failed to materialize. ‘I think we should both acknowledge that the most we can strive for is a really good, solid friendship …’
Her heart constricted as she said that, but she knew that she needed to bury all signs of her love. On the one hand, if he knew how she really felt about him the equality of their relationship would be severely compromised. On the other—and this would be almost worse—he would pity her. He might even choose to remind her that at no point, ever, had he led her to believe that lust should be confused with something else.
It would be a sympathetic let-down, during which he might even produce a hankie, all the better to mop up her overflowing tears. She would never live down the humiliation. In short, she would become a guilty burden which he would consider himself condemned to bear for the rest of his life. Whereas if she feigned efficiency she could at least avert that potential disaster waiting in the wings.
That thought gave her sufficient impetus to maintain her brisk, cheery façade and battle on through his continuing unreadable silence.
‘If you think that we’re embarking on a sexless marriage …’ Raoul growled, increasingly outraged by every thing she said, and critical of her infuriating practicality—although he really shouldn’t have been, considering it was a character trait he firmly believed in.
Sarah held up one hand to stop him in mid-flow. This would be her trump card—if it could be called such.
‘That’s not what I’m saying …’ Released from at least that particular burden—of just not knowing what to do with this overpowering attraction she felt for him—Sarah felt a whoosh of light-headed relief race through her. ‘We won’t take the one big thing between us away …’
The hand on his arm softened into a caress, moved to rest against his hard chest, and she stepped closer into him, arching up to him, glad that she no longer had to try and fight the sizzling attraction between them.
Raoul caught her hand and held it as he stared down at her upturned face,
‘So tell me,’ he drawled softly, ‘why didn’t you just agree to be my lover? It amounts to the same thing now, doesn’t it?’
‘Except,’ Sarah told him with heartfelt honesty, ‘maybe I just didn’t like the notion of being your mistress until I went past my sell-by date. Maybe that’s something I’ve only just realised.’ She hesitated. ‘Do you … do you want to reconsider your proposal?’
‘Oh, no …’ Raoul told her with a slow, slashing smile, ‘this is exactly what I want …’
A WEEK and a half later and Raoul wasn’t sure that he had got quite what he had wanted—although he was hard pressed to put a finger on the reason why.
Sarah’s histrionics were over. She no longer vacillated between wanting him and turning him away. She had stopped agonising about the rights and wrongs of their sleeping together.
In fact, on the surface, everything appeared to be going to plan. He had moved in precisely one week previously. For one day the house had been awash with a variety of people, doing everything it took to instal the fastest possible broadband connection and set up all the various technologies so that he could function from the cosy library, which had been converted into a study complete with desk, printer, television screens to monitor the stock markets around the world and two independent telephone lines. Through the window he could look out at the perfectly landscaped garden, with its twin apple trees at the bottom. It was a far more inspiring view than the one he had had from his apartment, and he discovered that he liked it.
The wedding would be taking place in a month’s time.
‘I don’t really care when it happens,’ Sarah had told him with a casual shrug, ‘but Mum’s set her heart on something more than a quick register affair, and I don’t like to disappoint her.’
Thinking about it, that attitude seemed to characterise the intangible change Raoul had uneasily noticed ever since she had accepted his marriage proposal.
True to her word, they were now lovers, and between the sheets everything was as it should be. Better. He touched her and she responded with fierce, uninhibited urgency. She was meltingly, erotically willing. With the lights turned off and the moonlight dipping into the room through a chink in the curtains they made love with the hunger of true sexual passion.
Just thinking about it was enough to make Raoul half close his eyes and stiffen at the remembered pleasure.
But outside the bedroom she was amicable but restrained. He came through the front door by seven every evening, which was a considerable sacrifice for him, because he was a man accustomed to working until at least eight-thirty most days. Yes, she asked him how his day
