Mistresses: Blackmailed With Diamonds / Shackled with Rubies. Robyn Donald
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brought your coffee,’ came the voice through the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Just a minute, Grace,’ he yelled. ‘I’m not decent.’ Under his breath he muttered, ‘Where is it? Where is it?’
‘What?’
‘My jacket. Oh, there it is on the floor.’
He leaned down to scoop it up, accidentally revealing the answer to the question that had been troubling me. He’d probably left them in the bathroom.
Inspiration seized me and I grabbed the pyjama jacket from his hands, tossing it back onto the floor.
‘Are you crazy?’ he hissed.
‘No, but you are,’ I told him. ‘You’re supposed to be nuts about me, and you’re sleeping in that? Come on—make it look real.’
As I spoke I was pulling the pillow out of the bed, tossing it away, then stripping off the sack and pushing it down the bed where nobody could see it.
‘Push the sheet down to your waist,’ I said, and when he did so I put my arm around his neck, trying not to be too aware of the length of his naked body against mine. ‘Now we look real.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘That’s the spirit.’ He raised his voice. ‘OK, Grace.’
I don’t know exactly what Grace had expected to see, but it must have been a lot less than what she did see—because she looked as if she’d swallowed a hedgehog, prickles and all. I nestled against Jack, smiling at her as she stood there with a small tray bearing two coffees.
I’ll say this for her: she got her act together fast, fixed her smile on with steel rivets, and approached the bed.
‘I hope you two slept well,’ she said, like any hostess greeting any guest in the morning.
‘Well,’ I mused, ‘I wouldn’t exactly say slept. But it was a wonderful night.’
As I finished I gave an inane little giggle, and, if I say so myself, I do ‘inane’ very well. I have a large repertoire of giggles, to be produced on demand, but the jewel in the crown is definitely ‘inane’.
It got to Grace, anyway. The smile slipped, but she forced it back into place.
‘I’m so glad you find everything satisfactory,’ she said, straight out of the hostess’s etiquette book.
‘It was very satisfactory,’ I breathed.
Beside me I felt Jack grow tense and turn his head so that his face was hidden against my shoulder. He was fighting not to laugh.
‘Thanks for the coffee, Grace,’ he said, looking up at last. ‘Perhaps we’ll have breakfast in here, too.’
‘Impossible,’ she declared. ‘You can’t insult your guests like that.’
‘I think they’ll understand—’ Jack started to say.
‘Nonsense. Of course you must come to breakfast,’ she declared. ‘I shall tell them to expect you in half an hour.’
She sailed out, closing the door very firmly behind her.
‘Wow!’ I said.
‘You see my problem?’
Actually, I was being distracted by another problem just then. He was pressing closer to me, his hip against my leg, and there was no doubting what I could feel.
‘Yes.’ He groaned, meeting my eyes. ‘Look, I apologise. I meant to—I mean, I didn’t mean to—Oh hell!’
‘I understand,’ I assured him solemnly. ‘But we’re expected for breakfast.’
‘Hell again!’
‘Well, it’s your fault,’ I complained. ‘Why do you let her order you about? You’re the Big Man—’
‘Do you mind not putting it like that?’ he asked faintly.
‘You know what I mean. You’re supposed to be master of all you survey. Just tell her that you’ll do things your way. Are you a man or a mouse?’
‘Of all the stupid questions,’ he said explosively. ‘I’m a mouse, of course. How else do you think I got into this mess?’
‘Well, Grace has spoken, so we’ll have to postpone this—er—interesting discussion until another day.’
‘Yes,’ he said delicately. ‘Look, I’m going to have to make a dash for the bathroom.’
‘Cold shower?’
‘Freezing.’
‘Don’t use all the icy water.’
He grinned and began to slide out of the bed. Then he stopped.
‘I’ve lost my pyjama bottoms. So do you mind closing your eyes until I reach the bathroom?’
‘Sure thing.’
‘And no peeking. Promise me that.’
‘Of course I promise,’ I said, shocked to the core by his doubts. ‘What do you take me for? I give you my solemn word—not one tiny peek.’
But I lied, my friends, I lied. Oh, how gloriously I lied!
Breakfast was on the sundeck, under a blue awning. I’ll swear the whole boat was there to watch us arrive. Word had gone around, and any of the sailors and staff who could possibly find an excuse to be there were hovering, trying to look indifferent.
The guests didn’t even try. Their eyes bored into us as we appeared on deck and made our way to the table. I was wearing a pair of elegant dark green trousers and a fawn silk blouse that Jenny had loaned me, and I was really grateful to her.
Every woman there wore couture, even at this hour of the morning. It was casual, of course, but the kind of casual that costs a bomb, and Jenny’s clothes made me look as though I belonged there. Selina and Grace had noticed that too, and they were hopping mad.
Jack introduced me to everyone, but I only took in a very few details. I already knew Jenny and Charles. She looked at my outfit, smiled and winked, then glanced at Selina, who was controlling her annoyance using the same methods as Grace earlier. Grace’s mouth was shut like a trap, and she glared.
So I knew I was doing exactly what Jack wanted.
He introduced me to a young man called Derek Lamming, who sat with Selina, his arm on the back of her chair, continually casting her nervous glances. I think he was really glad to see me. Then there was Harry Oxton, who looked about sixty, and hovered over Grace as Derek did Selina.
Among the others the one who stood out was Raymond Keller, nice-looking, early forties, who seemed genuinely friendly with Jack. The rest were just names and faces in a blur.
Jack’s explanation of my presence was a masterpiece. He had hoped to invite me for the cruise, but I had already been committed to visit various friends in Europe. However, several crises had erupted, forcing me to flee with little more than what I was wearing. Luckily he had been around to scoop me up and bring me on board for the rest of the trip.
I was awed. I tell a good tale myself, when it’s necessary, but this man had the right touch to make it convincing. It made me wonder just what did go on in the boardroom when he was in charge. Not bullying. I was sure of that. He’d get his own way by talking the hind legs off a donkey.
Grace asked me some pretty barbed questions, but I was getting comfortably into the part now, and managed to parry them. I have to admit, too, that Jack helped me.
‘Don’t worry the poor girl, now, Grace. She’s starving. All she wants is to feed her face, then go out on a huge shopping spree to replace her wardrobe. Hurry up, Della. My credit cards are itching for some exercise. ’
Those were words I loved to hear.
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