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HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 7
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Wild Desire HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 8
‘How about,’ teased Sebastian, ‘things like this?’ Now his talented hands played on her belly, massaging the aromatic oil over her soft skin. Kate groaned in pleasure and turned fully on to her back. She stretched luxuriantly, revelling in the warmth of the night, the gentle air on her warm body and the even more gentle, hugely erotic sensation of Sebastian’s hands as they slowly turned her entire body into a cauldron of desire. For a moment she let her own hand play with his hair, running her fingers through the silken strands, pulling gently and twisting them around her fingers in time with Sebastian’s movements. Then, as he moved further down her body, she stretched once more and reached over her head in a long, lazy arc. Her hands found the delicate petals of one of the climbing plants, and as she stroked their softness so Sebastian continued his tantalising ministrations, effortlessly turning her entire body into one glorious erogenous zone. His hands were all over her now, and a
Wild Desire HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 9
SOMEONE CAME TO her in the middle of the night. At first she didn’t know who it was; at first she was completely unaware of where she was. Sebastian and Rupert had enveloped her around them as she slept on the balcony and later, she dimly remembered, they had taken her inside when the caress of the night breeze had cooled. Then she had slept again, a sleep induced by extreme fatigue, yet disturbed by the same events that had made her tired. She had been tested. She had been made love to as no one had ever made love to her before. Kate the stockbroker was appalled by what she had done in this house. Kate the uninhibited sexual temptress was proud; a dangerous side of her, a hitherto buried aspect of her nature had, from somewhere in the depths of her soul, risen forth to meet the cutting edge of carnality, and to rejoice. Her sleep was disturbed. Someone was getting into bed with her. Someone with a lightness of touch that seemed familiar to her. Her befuddled brain cried out at the t
Wild Desire HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 10
DIPLOMACY. KATE WAS good at diplomacy. She already knew that. Her upbringing, her education, her job — all of them had trained her in the art of diplomacy. Diplomacy was playing with power. So was sex. Her sexuality had only been fully awakened - and there was a bitter irony — by Steven, the man who had so coolly and clinically dumped her. She had only been a pawn in his cynical game of sexual diplomacy. She hadn’t seen herself as a player. Well, now she was. A player in an altogether more sophisticated game. What she got out of this game was entirely up to her. Money - money that she didn’t even need - was a certainty. So was power. And, most importantly, so was her own sexual gratification. But that would depend on how she played the game. She paced the drawing room of the flat. Here she was, awaiting her first client. She wondered what he would be like. Then she remembered that it didn’t matter. He would, as a personality, be an irrelevance to her. He would probably bore her. He w
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TWO DAYS LATER, she met her next client. She opened the door to him and to a strange sensation that she had met him before, that she knew who he was. He was tall, very tall, and exuded an air of supreme confidence. He appeared worldly in the sense that he was accustomed to bending the world to his will, that other people's rules didn’t apply to him. Yet, like the man of two nights ago, he was charming, polite, and well-mannered. She wondered why such men had to seek illicit pleasures. ‘I’m Jim,’ said the man as she ushered him through the front door. ‘And I’m Cleo.’ So normal, so formal. So at odds with the reasons why they were both here. Yet she wasn’t called Cleo and he wasn’t called Jim. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what his real name was. She had either heard it or read it somewhere. No matter, she thought. Names go with personalities. This isn’t a personality. It’s a client. He was, however, quite interesting. Over champagne he talked about shares, bonds and fu
Wild Desire HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 12
‘IT’S NOT THAT we think you’ve done anything wrong...’ ‘So what is it then?’ Kate was so angry she lost sight of the fact that she was addressing the company chairman. She glared belligerently at him and waited for an answer. Miles Courtenay was clearly taken aback by her anger. He wasn’t used to being addressed in this manner even by his most senior colleagues — let alone by a woman who had, he firmly believed, been so keen to take on a major client that she had overlooked some essential background information. ‘I don’t see where I went wrong,’ continued Kate, too impatient to wait for his answer. ‘I acted on the information provided by the research department. I don’t wish to implicate them in what is, after all, only a rumour, but...’ ‘But no serious corporate financier would go all out for a client of the magnitude of Pharescault without doing a little research of their own.’ Miles’s voice was harsh. His eyes ice-cold. ‘I don’t understand,’ said Kate. ‘Perhaps that’s because
Wild Desire HUNGER THAT MUST BE FED 13
Now he was touching her face gently, looking at her with something approaching adoration. ‘And there’s another reason, my dear Kate, why I had to find out if this lady of the night was really yourself.’ ‘Oh? And what's that?’ Kate could feel herself trembling. Damn. He would know why. He would know that she wasn’t trembling in fear. He was nuzzling at her neck now. ‘That night, at the chateau, I suddenly realised that I felt more for you than just lust . . .’ ‘Liar!’ With more strength than she knew she possessed, Kate pushed him away from her. ‘You bloody liar! In the light of the way you demonstrated “what you felt for me” I find that extraordinarily difficult to believe.’ She glared at him. ‘I barely knew you, Nero. I thought I was being invited for a quiet weekend in the country and what did I get instead? Four sex-crazed fiends who drugged me and then gang-banged me!’ Nero laughed again. ‘Gang-banged? What a quaint expression.’ He looked her straight in the eyes. ‘And it’s an
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TWO DAYS LATER Mark told Kate there was nothing wrong with either the financial or moral conduct of Pharescault. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked. Mark looked at her. ‘You sound almost disappointed.’ She was. She had spent a lot of time thinking about Nero since his visit to the Mayfair flat —and the one thing her thoughts always came back to was that she didn’t trust the man. Not one little bit. She enjoyed his body, she even revelled in it. But his mind was a different matter. And she was now positive that, despite his protestations, it was uppermost in that mind that he now held sway over her. He had the power to wreck her career and she had no doubt that he would use that power if he saw fit. To illustrate that, he had left her no money. It was his way of demonstrating that he didn’t owe her — he owned her. Kate looked blankly at Mark. She was disappointed, she thought. If she had been able to find damaging information about Nero his hold over her would be destroyed. She, instead, c
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She did. Over drinks in the drawing room, she made a special effort to please Nero. Soon she forgot she was making an effort. When Nero wanted to be nice, he was charm itself. When he was in a good mood, he no longer looked depraved, the hard lines on his face became character lines and Kate, despite her better judgement, found herself being drawn to him all over again. This man, she thought, may well be the devil personified but he’s an angel in bed. His words are sometimes rough, but his caresses are tender. He may be using me but he can also make me feel needed and wanted. As she fell gradually under his spell she found it more and more difficult to remember that she was acting a part. She would probably never understand Nero and his motives, but she reckoned she now had the measure of Georges and Elodie. They were sex-crazed. They thought she, Kate, was a ‘true voluptuary’, but she knew she had nothing on them. As another bottle of champagne was opened and consumed, she also foun
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