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PAINT OF PASSION 16
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Wild Desire PAINT OF PASSION 17
SHE MUST HAVE been very tired, because she didn’t wake up until midday. The weak winter sun was streaming through the window, but it was freezing and her breath made smoky patterns in the air. And Daniel still wasn’t beside her. Why hadn’t he sorted out the thermostat so that the heating came on? They weren't that skint. Clare pulled on her jeans again without getting out from beneath the duvet and it was as she was doing this that she noticed that the room didn’t look quite the same as usual. For a start, it was tidy. There was not a solitary sock to be seen on Daniel’s side of the room, which usually looked like an explosion in a Chinese laundry. Something else was odd too ... The walls, usually graced with three paintings Daniel had done when they first arrived in Cornwall, were bare. ‘My God, we've been burgled,’ was Clare’s first thought as she leapt out of bed and ran through into the lounge. But nothing had changed there. And Daniel’s painting rucksack was still lying on the
Wild Desire PAINT OF PASSION 18
CLARE SPENT THE next short day down by the harbour again, absently running off three more paintings for Graham. These watercolours were coming more and more easily to her and she finished them in less than two hours. On her way back to the flat she stopped at a bakery and bought two éclairs. It was almost dark as she opened the rusty gate. No lights were on in their flat. Clare thought nothing of it, but was a little disappointed that she would have to wait to eat her éclair. Perhaps she would eat hers straight away anyway. Whistling, she pushed open the door, turned on the light, tossed the pastries on to the table and made straight for the studio to put her painting gear away. There was an ominous crunching sound as she opened this door with her hip. Something must have fallen against the other side. She flicked the light switch with her elbow, and the sight which greeted her this time rooted her to the spot. A torn canvas was scattered around the floor of the studio. Which one w
Wild Desire PAINT OF PASSION 19
‘I want to believe him, Clare.’ Francesca was suddenly firm again. ‘I’ll call you.’ She rose from the sofa without any of the usual lingering caresses that preceded her goodbyes and walked purposefully to the door. She stood silently as she waited for Clare to let her out. ‘I will phone,’ she promised. Clare closed the door behind her.***Two days later, Francesca did call. She sounded happy, too happy, and babbled on about the preparations for Steven’s birthday party as if the girl on the other end of the phone was her grandmother and not her ex-lover. Suddenly she asked, 'You will finish the painting won’t you?’ Clare hadn’t told her that Daniel had already finished it off in his special way. ‘I want you to finish it,’ Francesca added, after a disconcerting moment of silence. ‘Yes,’ said Clare, ‘I will.’ ‘And,’ Francesca took a deep breath, ‘I’d like you to come to the party yourself. To deliver the painting in person.’ ‘I don’t think I . . .'‘It’s important to me. I want you
Wild Desire PAINT OF PASSION 20
***The new painting was finished. Smiling, Clare wrapped the freshly framed canvas in bubblewrap to protect the glass as she transported it from Cornwall to London, where Francesca had asked her to attend the party. Clare hadn’t been sure at first. She imagined Steve’s face when she walked in. Would he show even a spark of recognition for the artist whom he knew so much better than any of the guests would have suspected? Misreading Clare’s apprehension, Francesca had assured her that she would not reveal that Clare had been anything other than a painter of pictures to the good lady wife of the subject. Eventually Clare had been persuaded, but, she told Francesca, she would have to turn up a little late. She had things to do in Cornwall and wouldn’t be able to get away until at least seven. Francesca begged her to send the picture down ahead, just in case, but Clare refused. ‘I might have to tighten the canvas in the frame again before I can let you have it,’ she had explained.‘You'
Wild Desire FORBIDDEN PLACE 1
Synopsis:Bored graduate Karen Heywood starts a new job in a stately home and discovers a haven of sensual pleasures. Only one part of the house remains forbidden to her - the private apartment of Blackwood Towers' mysterious owner . . .CHAPTER 1‘WE'RE SPENDING THE summer on the Greek islands. D’you have to take that job? Why not come with us?’ Jeremy pleaded, using that littleboy-lost expression he had learned at his nanny’s knee. Karen grinned, knowing this ploy worked wonders with female students and lecturers alike. Not with her, however. She recognised their relationship for what it was - mutual lust and nothing more. Not for her the agony of sighing after this handsome, feckless young man, the jealous pangs, the heart-breaking wait by the phone for calls that rarely came. Thank God he doesn’t affect me that way, she thought, resting back against the flat corduroy boat cushions as he poled the punt along the placid surface of the Cherwell. I can admire his well-shaped head, b
Wild Desire FORBIDDEN PLACE 2
Karen looked out through the landing window. Below lay the quad, across it the stately buildings that had sheltered aspiring students for over five hundred years. Not women, of course — they were a late addition. At one time no females had been permitted beneath the sacred portals of those male-dominated seats of learning. Just one more night spent there. It was sad, really. Despite her assertions to Jeremy, Karen was nervous of taking up the position she had been offered. She unlocked the door of the college flat. Inside the cosy panelled sitting room she stepped out of her sandals, padded across to the little kitchen and switched on the kettle. While waiting for it to boil, she opened the letter. Dear Karen, Am looking forward tremendously to having you join me at Blackwood Towers. You'll like Porthcombe. Miles of beach, a pounding sea and spectacular cliffs. The library is a mess. I really need your help. It’s too much for one person. The late marquis neglected it. He was only in
Wild Desire FORBIDDEN PLACE 3
I DON'T KNOW about fucking in the hay, thought Armina Channing as she proceeded to do just that. It’s scratchy - smelly. Bits stick into one’s most delicate and private parts — though you could hardly call mine private. The brawny young man who was pleasuring her, head burrowed between her spread legs, seemed to have no such reservations. Hidden in a stall at the back of the stable, they were practically invisible. This would have been a great place to do it if it had been less uncomfortable. Armina revelled in the refinements of life - satin sheets, the touch of velvet against her pampered skin, perfumed bath water — exquisite cuisine, fine wines and decadent luxury. Yet a bit of rough could be stimulating, and Tayte Penwarden was rough all right — Lord Burnet’s head groom. And Armina was one of His Lordship’s mistresses, the chief odalisque of the seraglio. But while the cat was away the mice would play, and anything Tayte lacked as a sophisticated lover, he made up for in enthusi
Wild Desire FORBIDDEN PLACE 4
Karen nodded and followed him up a winding flight of stairs leading from a doorway next to the fireplace. There was no landing. A few steps, and she was standing beneath the low attic ceiling. The windows were on a level with the uneven floor. They were open. The smell of roses crept in. It was a strictly masculine room: a mirror supported on a dressing table, a built-in wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a wide mahogany bed, neatly made, the duvet pulled straight. ‘You keep your house very tidy,’ she commented, remembering vividly the chaos of his flat, the floor strewn with books and papers, the dilapidated settee where she had lost her cherry. ‘I’ve a woman who “does”.’ He put the tray on the bedside table. Gin and tonic splashed into the glasses, topped with shaved ice and a twist of lemon. ‘Here’s to my assistant librarian,’ Tony said, smiling into her eyes as he toasted her. ‘I recommended you for your abilities, not because I expected to screw you, though I'll admit that wasn
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