Chapter Four

Her interview with her husband went as expected. Sir Robert would contact David and drag him back into line with a combination of threats and enticements. Caroline was grateful that he never seemed annoyed at her for the antics of her brother and mother. He was always unfailingly polite and understanding. Still, she felt like someone who’d come to his door asking for charity and received a big donation – his manner had the same sort of emotional involvement as that sort of exchange.

When she went back to her room after dinner, she wasn’t surprised to find Jon there.
”Sorted out the family again?” he asked sympathetically. She nodded.

“I don’t know how they produced you, pet,” he said. “Obviously a cuckoo in that nest.”
”They produced James, too,” she pointed out. He nodded.

“Another aberration,” he said. “I don’t know how he copes with your mother and the terminally stupid David, either.”

“It never seems to bother him,” Caroline said. She’d wondered the same thing. “He’s usually engrossed in a book, and when he does have to deal with them, he treats them as if they’re distant relatives – not very smart ones.”
”Well he’s half right,” Jon said. He knew the ins and outs of her family as well as Robert did –better, because she’d poured her heart out to him on a number of occasions.

“But on to more fun things,” he said. “What’s the challenge tonight?” She thought about lying and telling him that there wasn’t one, but she knew he wasn’t going to leave until she did, so he was going to find out.

“Same thing,” she said. “But it’s to be turned on tonight.” Jon smiled approvingly.

“That’ll make it more difficult,” he said. “Where is it?” Sighing, wishing he’d go away, Caroline went into the bathroom and retrieved it from where it lay in the drawer, looking little and evil as far as she was concerned. She stuck her head outside the door.

“Tonight, I’ll do this in the bathroom,” she said firmly.

“Oh no you won’t,” he said, just as firmly, catching her wrist and pulling her out. While she protested, he looked her up and down. He shook his head.

“Overdressed,” he said. “Whip that blouse off, pet. You need something longer, because you’re not going to be wearing a skirt.”
”I am so,” she responded heatedly. He grinned.

“Want to bet on it?” he asked. Caroline’s hands went to her hips in a fighting stance.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.

“Because it’s fun,” he responded automatically. “What other reason is there? Whip the blouse off, Carrie.” He walked to her wardrobe and started looking through the tops hanging there. He didn’t find any suitable, so he pulled open a drawer and went through her t-shirts.

“Nothing,” he said, disgustedly. “Well, this will have to do.” Pulling his own t-shirt up, he rounded on her. “Why haven’t you taken your blouse off yet?” Seething, Caroline unbuttoned it and threw it on the bed, grabbing at the t-shirt he held out to her, still warm from his body. Jon wore t-shirts rarely, and when he did, they were top quality, soft, tailored and designed to fit well. This one fell to just below the top of her thighs.

He didn’t give orders or wait for her this time. Bare-chested, he took her by the shoulders, spun her round, and put his hands under the t-shirt to unzip her skirt.
”Step out of that,” he said as it fell to the floor. “Oh yes, that shirt will do nicely. It just covers your knickers. Take them off, Carrie.” She tried to turn around at that, to tell him what she thought of bossy little men who thought the fact that she loved them gave them the right to invade her bedroom and issue peremptory orders. Jon took one look at her face, laughed and dragged her panties down himself, laughing more when she shrieked and tried unsuccessfully to pull them straight back up.

“Given the shortness of the shirt and the fact that you’re running out of time, you can go into the bathroom to slide the little intruder into place,” he said magnanimously. “Do you know how to turn it on?” With a look that would have dissolved a less arrogant man into dust, she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

She was mortified when she came out, because the buzzing of the vibrator was clearly audible. Jon pressed his lips together to stop laughing, but his eyes did it for him.

“Well, you’re not going to be sneaking up on anyone, are you?” was all he said. He glanced at his Rolex. “Oh dear. You’re late, pet. We’d better go.”
”We?” Caroline propped on the spot. “We?”
”Yes, we,” he said. “I’m going to walk with you, to make sure you don’t cheat. Now keep those hands at your side. If I see the slightest hint that you’re reaching for your naughty bits to push that little buzzer back in, I’m going to make you put your hands on your head, and you have no idea how much you’ll be displaying then.” Yes she did. She’d seen her reflection in the bathroom mirror and had been dismayed at how much leg she was showing. With her arms up, half her bottom and almost all of what André persisted in referring to as her “furry patch” would be visible.

“I don’t need a guard,” she muttered bitterly as they walked around the garden and out the front door.

“Walking round half-dressed at night like that?” Jon teased, strolling comfortable beside her. “Of course you do. Oh listen, aren’t the birds noisy tonight? There’s a real buzz in the air.”

“You’re not funny you know,” she said, tightening everything in her nether regions. The slippery little thing was sliding south with every tiny movement it made.

“Yes I am. I’m hilarious. Ask anyone,” he said. “Doing all right there, sweetie?”

“Fine,” she said between gritted teeth. She was walking with her thighs clamped together, in case the horrid thing managed to escape its current confines.
”That’s an interesting gait you have,” Jon commented. She ignored him.

The stairs were deep and wide, and Caroline knew she was in trouble as soon as she negotiated the first one, because it was impossible to keep her thighs together unless she actually jumped down. The vibrator was inexorably shaking itself out of her, aided by gravity as much as its constant friction. With the second step, it slipped a little further, and with the third, she reached down instinctively, only to have her hand caught at the wrist by Jon.

“No cheating,” he teased. “Problems, pet?” If she hadn’t tried to wrench her hand free at that point, she might have made another step, but either way, she would never have reached André’s door with everything still in place. The vibrator bounced off the stone step and rolled down another two before it stopped.

“Dear dear,” Jon said, pouncing on it, handkerchief in hand. “Whatever will André say? Are you scared?”

“I’m bored,” Caroline managed, stalking away from him as he laughed.

André opened the door in response to her first rap, and his eyes widened as he saw what she was wearing. They widened still further when he saw Jon, shirtless and holding something in his hand. Caroline brushed past him and went straight into the cottage. He looked after her for a second before turning back to Jon, a question in his eyes.

“She lost it on the stairs,” Jon said, holding the handkerchief-wrapped item out. “She’s not happy with me because I came with her to make sure she didn’t cheat on the way.” André nodded and took the proffered object.

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for supervising.”

“Oh, my pleasure,” Jon assured him. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall just outside the door. Even André had to concede that he was a good looking man – surprisingly well developed in the muscles on his chest and stomach too, he noted.

“Perhaps we should get together and work out how to make this more challenging for her in future?” Jon added.

“It’s an idea,” André said. Not one he was planning to act on, but it was undeniably an idea. Jon grinned and turned to walk away. André spoke before he could.

“Will you be needing the car tomorrow, sir?” he asked. Jon turned back.

“No,” he said. “Sir Robert and I will be working off site all day, but we’ll take the Ferrari. Why?”
”I need to wash and polish the limousine,” André replied.

“Good man. I wish I was going to be there to watch,” Jon said. He looked around the chauffeur’s broad shoulders and grinned. ”Give her hell,” he said. “In fact, give her one for me.” André’s eyes narrowed as the man walked away.

“He’s a stupid man,” Caroline said as soon as the door was shut. “And so are you,” she said crossly. “And that’s a stupid vibrator, too, and if you think I’m ever touching it again, you can think again.”
”Ssssh,” André said, putting the handkerchief down and walking towards her.

“I will not shush!” she backed up, genuinely annoyed. “Look what he made me wear!”

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” André assured her. “If he’d managed to talk you out of the bra as well, I might have embarrassed us all by embracing him.”
Caroline was not impressed with his sense of humour.

“I’m half naked!” She went on. “I’ve been walking around the estate half naked.”

“Not quite half,” André disagreed. He took two long steps and caught her. “When I have this t-shirt off you, you’ll be half naked. Here, let me demonstrate.”
”No,” she said, struggling within the circle of his arms, but not too much. “I’m not going to mffflemppmmm.” He’d kissed her before she could finish that sentence, and continued to do so until the fight went out of her shoulders and arms and she relaxed against him.

“That won’t always work, you know,” she said when he let her up for air.
”No, but it worked this time,” he replied. He drew the t-shirt up over her head and dropped it on the floor. His hands smoothed over her bare bottom, lifting her up against him again, and as he kissed her once more, he reached for the catch on her bra.

…………..

“I’m not washing the damned car tomorrow,” she said later, once more curled in his arms on the bed.
”Really?” André sounded surprised.

“Really,” she responded.

“Dear me, and here I was thinking you were a woman of honour,” he said. “What a disappointment.” Caroline knew he was yanking her chain, but her lips tightened anyway. She kept her word. She always kept her word. It was why she’d made a point of not actually agreeing to have a baby for Robert and Jon. She sighed.

“All right,” she said. “But it has to be where no-one else can see. And I don’t want to. I want you to know that.”
”It would hardly be a forfeit if you did,” he pointed out, eyes full of mischief. She muttered something incomprehensible and unflattering about his parentage.

“I tell you what,” he said, rolling up so he could look into her face. “I’ll do you a deal.”
”What sort of a deal?” she asked suspiciously. She knew him well enough to recognise the look in his eyes now.

“Another challenge,” he said. “If you pass, you don’t have to wash the car. If you don’t…well, there will be another forfeit.”
”What’s the challenge and what’s the forfeit?” she demanded. Perhaps there was an element of her risk-taking father and brother in her after all, she thought. André smiled.

“The forfeit will be that you have to not only wash the car, but do five things I say, without question or argument. If you argue, you have to do six things. If you argue again, it’s seven, and so on.”
”What sorts of things will you order me to do?” she asked suspiciously. He shrugged.

“I haven’t thought of that yet,” he admitted. “I’m going to have trouble topping the sight of you washing that big car in a bikini anyway. Mmmm. I can picture it already.” Very clever, she thought, glaring at him. Giving her that image to encourage her to agree to the new deal.

“And what’s the challenge?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s easy,” he said. “You just have to lie here on the bed, nude, arms and legs wide apart, with your bottom up on two pillows. I will use the little vibrator on its lowest setting, and…”
”Wait a minute,” Caroline interrupted. “It has more than one setting?” André’s eyes gleamed as he nodded.

“Which way did you turn it on?” he asked.

“At the bottom,” she said. “I turned it to the right.” He laughed.

“That is the highest setting, chérie,” he said. “I’m surprised you made it as far as the stairs.”
”Well I didn’t know about the other settings!” she protested. “That should make it invalid.”

“In a fair world, it would,” he agreed, not giving an inch. “So in this challenge, you have to lie completely still – no movement, nothing. No lifting up of those lovely hips, no closing of those beautiful legs, not even any tightening of all of those warm, wet places you are still so shy about showing me.”

“You’re just planning to use the vibrator? Not your mouth?” Caroline clarified. She couldn’t hold out against the assault of his mouth. She knew that already. He nodded.

“For how long will you do it?” she asked.

“Only five minutes,” he said.
”Five minutes!” she repeated. He nodded again.

“With the vibrator on its lowest setting, just to make it easy,” he said. “You see – I am a fair man. I am giving you an out, even though I would dearly love to see these luscious breasts jiggling and rubbing all over the car with just a bikini top covering them.” That did it.

“Do it,” she said. “I accept the challenge.” André had to turn away to hide his delighted expression.

He cleaned the vibrator thoroughly before he came back to the bed, knowing that he was being evil in his exploitation of her innocence, and not caring one iota. She was curled up in the foetal position, only her bottom on show.

“Lie out now,” he said. “And put those pillows under you. That’s it. Now get comfortable.”
”How can I be comfortable when I’m lying spreadeagled?” she asked him. He grinned, then knelt in between her knees, noting the light flush on her face as he looked down.

“I’ll set my watch for five minutes,” he said, doing so. Caroline wiggled a little. He kept glancing at the target area as he did it, and she clenched everything up there in preparation. Five minutes at the lowest setting was doable. She was sure it was.

Less than two minutes later, he gave a triumphant laugh as she gave up and clamped her thighs closed, rolling off the pillows with a groan.

“That thing is horrible!” she complained. “It shakes just enough to stir things up and tickle, but not enough to feel good.”
”You don’t say?” André asked. “Ah well. You did your best. Eighty seconds wasn’t bad, Caroline.” It had felt like eighty minutes, lying there, naked and open while he applied it with a surgeon’s precision to the exact places most calculated to drive her mad. Her muscles had been at tearing point by the time she capitulated.

“What are the orders you’re going to give me?” she asked, still curled on her side, facing away from him.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll just go clean this again. Be right back.” He gave her bare bottom a proprietorial pat as he got off the bed and walked naked to the bathroom. Once there, he thought hard and fast as he washed the little appliance, continuing the thought process he’d started when he’d been in there a few minutes before.

Sir Robert and Jon were going to be out all of the following day, but they were driving themselves, which was interesting. And even more interesting was the fact that Caroline appeared to have no knowledge whatsoever of what they were doing. He was going to have to get in touch with Juan again, but not when there was a likelihood that Caroline was going to walk in on him this time, no matter how pleasant the outcome had been that afternoon. He was almost totally sure of her innocence now, but he hadn’t got to where he was by making stupid mistakes. And this was too important to risk by letting his dick make decisions for him. He turned the taps off, dried the vibrator and put it down on the counter. As he turned away, he saw the marks on his shoulder reflected in the mirror. She’d been so shy, so hands-off when she first came to him. Now she was leaving fingernail marks on his back. A distinct improvement, in his opinion.

“There, it’s clean and ready for action again,” he said as he walked out. He stopping talking and walking as he realised that she was fast asleep; smiled, walked over to the bed and sat down. She looked so young in her sleep, the hauteur of her position as “Lady Caroline” dropping away. The fact that she was totally naked didn’t hurt either, he conceded. She had one hand between her face and the pillow, and her cheek was squashed against it. Her hair was messy from their last bout of love-making, and her body looked totally relaxed. He looked down further, appreciating the sight of her full breasts, nestled against each other as she lay on her side, her nipples soft and pink, of her small waist and curvy hips, the triangle of dark hair standing out against her pale skin.

He wondered if he should wake her. There was a possibility that the mischievous Jon was waiting in her room. But then, he knew where she was. If she didn’t show up, or wasn’t there in the morning, he wouldn’t worry. André gave in to temptation, easing the covers back beside her, then rolling her carefully into his arms to pick her up and put her down again. He tucked the covers over her.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered as she settled in her sleep. “I’ll be back.” He turned the lights off, picked up his cell phone and his jeans and went outside to make contact with Juan.

She slept the night spooned against his front, her bottom providing a soft pillow for his hips, his hand between her breasts and his face hidden in her hair. She was to have no recollection of that, though. Using to waking up early, André stirred first the next day, and woke her by gently stroking and kissing her breasts, having rolled her onto her back and rolled the covers down. Caroline woke moaning in pleasure, and reached out to find the bare skin of his back magically under her hands, there for her to clutch at while he continued his sweet torture of her sensitive skin.

“Your nipples woke up before you did,” he smiled at her as she stretched her arms above her head, arching her back, thrusting her breasts up into the hands he was still smoothing over them.

“I stayed here,” she said, amazed. “I slept the night here.”
”You did,” he agreed. “And you slept very soundly. You didn’t even stir when I brought the film crew in and they took all that footage of Lady Caroline Winthrop, naked in her lover’s bed.”
”Very funny,” she commented. His continued touch was stirring all sorts of nerve endings. She tried to push his hands away. He let her do it, but bent down to use his lips on her again, making matters worse.

“Stop it, André,” she begged softly.
”Why?” he asked, his mouth wet on her.
”Because it feels too good,” she said. He smiled against her skin.

“Not possible,” he said. “Open up your legs for me, chérie, and I’ll make it feel even better.”

………….

He gave her one of his shirts to wear back to the house, and since he was a lot taller than Jon, it covered her respectably, if oddly. She ran up the stairs and path quickly, wondering what the servant must have thought when he brought breakfast to her room and found her bed empty and unslept in. When she opened the door, she was again not surprised to find Jon already ensconced, working his way through a plate of light, fluffy pancakes and blueberries.
”You really should have some of these,” he said, smiling his hello. “They’re delicious.” She was in too good a mood to care, so for once she walked to him and kissed him.

“Good morning,” she said.

“I see it is,” Jon commented. “An overnight stay, Carrie. Heavens. Is this getting serious?”
”I went to sleep and he didn’t wake me,” she said, spooning up some pancake. It melted in the mouth.

“But you’re nicely awake now, aren’t you?” Jon commented, grinning. “Look at you, all rumpled and sexy. Not at all like the press is used to seeing you, pet. You’ve got that “I’ve just done the nasty” look all over you.”

“Stop it,” she said, with no expectation that he would.

He graciously allowed her to eat some of her own breakfast, even relinquishing the fork to make it easier for her, but he drank her orange juice.

“Robbie and I will be gone all day,” he said. “Are you going to be painting?”
”I might,” she said. If she could fit it in around washing a huge car and following five unspecified orders from a very wicked man.

“Your period is due next week, isn’t it?” he asked, startling her. It was a complete change of topic.

“Yes,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.” He delicately picked up a blueberry between his fingers and ate it.

“Just interested to know if all of this amorous activity has netted any results,” he said.

“It’s early yet,” she said, panicking just a little inside.

“I know, pet,” he said, smiling. “Just checking.” He stood up and stretched. He was wearing more formal attire than normal, dress trousers and a white shirt that had probably cost more than most people made in a week.

“Will I get my t-shirt back at some stage?” he asked. She nodded.

“I’ll bring it back tonight,” she said. She stood up too. Time for a shower.

“Assuming you don’t spend the night again,” he qualified. Caroline nodded again.

“Well, give me a hug, pet, and I’ll be off to earn some more squillions to keep us in luxury,” he said. He held out his arms and she stepped into them as she always had, relaxing against him. She only stiffened when she realised where his hands had gone, and she was struggling as he slid them up under the shirt. He laughed.

“Still no panties,” he commented, giving each of her bare buttocks a gentle pinch and a very thorough grope.

“Jon!” she really was shocked now. There was something very uncomfortable about his behaviour, particularly since he had his hips pressed against hers, and she could feel a hardness there, just as she had on the earlier occasion.

“Mmmm,” he said, ignoring her struggles. “You’re all warm and delicious, Carrie. You could convince me to go straight, you really could.” He ran one hand right up her back, under the shirt, spreading out his fingers and covering as much skin as he could along the way up and then back down again. Then he let her go. She stepped back quickly, real surprise in her eyes. The fog of morning love-making had dissolved.

“You’re gay,” she said. He laughed.
”No, really?” he replied. He shook his head at her. “Don’t be such a labeller, Carrie. It’s so limiting.” He took a quick step towards her, bent down and pressed a kiss into the top of her cleavage, displayed by the open neck of André’s shirt.

“One more for good luck,” he joked, his eyes twinkling as he walked out of the room, leaving her lost for words.

………..

By the time she walked down to join André for the car-washing, she’d convinced herself that Jon had just been being his normal, mischievous self. She must have been mistaken when she felt that he was being more than friendly, more than the loving, brother/parent substitute he’d been for her for three years now.

“That’s not a bikini,” André said as she walked down the front stairs. He was waiting by the car as usual, but he was wearing an old t-shirt and shorts, his arms and legs bare.
”It’s under my clothes, obviously,” Caroline responded.

“Let’s see it,” he said as she neared the car.
”Later,” she stalled. Instinctively, she waited by the usual door, then realised he wasn’t moving to open it. He raised one eyebrow, grinned, and looked pointedly at the door that led to the seat beside his.

“You’re a car washer today, Madame,” he said formally. “Not a pampered passenger. Get your cute little butt around to that side and open your own damned door.” Her jaw dropped. Then he laughed and got in, and she had no choice but to walk around and do what he’d said.

“That had better have been one of the five orders,” she said as she climbed in.

“Not a chance,” he disappointed her. “They don’t come until later.”

The place he was going to was reached via a dirt track, and then no track at all, the limo bumping as it went over grass, over a few tree roots, and then into a clearing.

“I ran a long hose down to here not long after I started,” he said. “It’s actually not so far as the crow flies, but the limo doesn’t fit too well between the trees, so this is the only way to drive here.”
”Why do you wash it here?” she asked, getting out at the same time as he did. She had to fumble to find the door handle, so unused was she to opening it herself. He noticed and grinned.

“Because I usually take my shirt off to do this,” he said. “And I don’t like being watched by your friend Jon when I’m in a state of undress.”
”He watches you?” Caroline asked. André nodded.

“And comments on my muscular structure and my skin and how tight my shorts are,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s only done it once, but once was enough. So I wash the car here.”

While André fetched the cleaning products and implements out of the back, Caroline took advantage of his absence to tug her t-shirt off and pull her jeans down, wanting to get it over without the added difficulty of his scrutiny. She was just straightening up after putting the jeans on the seat, when he wolf-whistled loudly.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Blue, with white polka dots. Very pretty. And quite brief, too.” Her hands went to the bikini bottoms, resettling them, making sure they were covering everything, front and back. The top was, but not being made of steel was unable to prevent movement in that region. Her breasts continued swaying even after she’d stopped wriggling her hips.

“Where I come from, women don’t always wear bikini tops on the beach,” André said, laying everything out on the grass. “I have seen pregnant women displaying their bellies and breasts, wearing nothing but little swimming pants.” Caroline grimaced at the thought. He smiled.

“It’s nice,” he said, knowing he wasn’t convincing her. “It’s nice to see women proud of their bodies, happy to show them.”
”You just like looking at topless women,” she scoffed.
”Well, there is that, too,” he admitted. “Now, I will fill up the bucket for you the first time, but next time it’s your turn, little girl.”

“I am NOT a little girl!” Caroline pointed out heatedly. He turned back, his gaze going unerringly to her cleavage, prominently displayed in the bikini.

“You’re right, you’re not,” he said, managing to sound apologetic despite the laughter in his eyes. “I was mistaken.”

Fortunately, he didn’t expect her to do it all herself, but he didn’t go easy on her, either. Any task that involved vigorous rubbing, he allocated to her for obvious reasons, and he made a point of watching her work, just to make sure she was doing it right, he assured her. He missed no opportunity to tease. In fact, he missed nothing, including when one of her breasts came clear out of the top while she was bent over, rubbing hard at the bonnet of the car. She tucked it back in immediately, glaring at him as he laughed.

It took forever. The limousine was as big as two normal cars, possibly more, and Caroline had an added appreciation for André’s muscles by the time they’d finished. He did this weekly? She wanted to lie down and order a masseur, and she’d only done half of the job. Maybe not even half. In fact, he was picking up the hose again.

“Order number one,” he said, grinning.

“Oh no,” she sighed. “What is it?”

“Take the bikini off and climb up on top of the car,” he said. “It needs washing up there, too.”
”No! I…why does it have to be washed in the nude?” she demanded.

“Is that an argument?” André asked, narrowing his blue eyes. An argument meant another order. Woman of honour, she told herself. She looked around. They were in a secluded spot. She hadn’t even known it existed and she’d lived here for three years. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen every part of her already – several times.

“No,” she said. She reluctantly untied the bikini top, peeling it away from her wet skin, and then bent and did the same with the bottom. “How do I get up there?” she asked, colouring up when she saw him staring at her now naked body. She ordered herself to settle down. Unfortunately, her cheeks didn’t obey.
”I’ll help you with that,” he offered nicely. He put his hands on her hips from behind and lifted her, then put his hands on her bottom and pushed her the rest of the way, his hands perhaps lingering just a little longer than was totally necessary.

Caroline felt very exposed and vulnerable up on all fours on top of the car. She could see over the tops of the smaller trees, could actually see part of the roof of the house, and she could only hope that no-one could see her. Apart from André, of course, who was making a point of walking around the car and seeing her from all angles. And commenting on it.

“It’s good that you’ve got your knees well apart like that,” he said from behind her. “To brace yourself. You wouldn’t want to slip. No, sirree, slipping would be very bad. Just a little wider, Caroline.”

“Go away,” she said, shifting to reduce his view.

“You could almost get four cloths going at once there,” he said helpfully as she turned 180 degrees. “One for each hand, and one for each breast. If you just lean down a bit more.”

“Don’t you have something to do?” she asked, putting her arm across the swinging, dangling items he was focusing on. “Some insects to pull wings off, or puppies to torture, or something?”

“No,” he said. “I prefer to stay here and make sure you don’t slide off.”
”How do you do this when you don’t have someone to lift up here?” she asked, resolutely turning her back – or more precisely her bottom, on him again. He laughed.

“I just reach up,” he said, demonstrating by doing just that, and tickling the backs of her thighs.

Eventually he pronounced himself satisfied with her work and lifted her down, taking an inordinate amount of time to set her on her feet. It was then that she discovered he’d put her bikini and his t-shirt in the car with her other clothes, and locked the doors.

“Just sit down for a while,” he said. “I’ll put some polish on and then you can help rub it off.”

“Oh goody,” she said. Sitting down naked on grass was not an experience she’d ever had before, but in the spirit of adventure (and not having a choice) she embraced it and stretched out her legs, leaning back on her hands and watching as he worked up a sweat. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, some strands of hair sticking to the olive skin of his face.

“Those shorts ARE tight,” she commented. “I’m not surprised Jon liked them.” André looked back over his shoulder at her and grinned.

“And you have nice muscles, too,” she added. “We should make you dress like that when you’re driving us.”
”I will if you dress like that when I’m driving you,” he countered. She conceded the point.

He put the lid on the bottle of polish and walked around to her.

“Order number two,” he announced. “Up you get.”
”That was the order?” she asked.

“And that was obviously a joke,” he said. “You’re going to rub the extra polish off now, but in a slightly unorthodox way. It doesn’t appear on any of the instructions on the bottle.” Caroline’s heart sank.

“What?” she asked, brushing grass and dirt off her skin as she stood up.

“Turn around,” he said. She turned, then jumped as she felt his hand on her backside. He shifted one buttock out and she felt something soft tucked in between it and the other. He shifted the other one as well, to make it more even and give her more grip, he said.

“Grip?” she repeated, turning to look at him. She had a bad feeling about this. Grinning wickedly, he nodded.

“You’ve got to hold that between your cheeks, put your hands on your head, and use the cloth to wipe off the polish.” Caroline’s buttocks tightened at the mere thought of it. She looked at the car, then back at him. The cloth draped down the back of her legs, to mid thigh.

“You’re serious?” she asked. He nodded.

“You’re arguing?” he asked hopefully.
”You’re a horrible, horrible man,” she said. He laughed. And then he stretched out on the patch of grass she’d just vacated and prepared to be entertained. He wasn’t disappointed.

With her hands on her head and her hips swivelling and circling, everything that could possibly move on her nude body bounced constantly and vigorously. She had to rub hard to get the polish off, and she had to shimmy up and down, too, to get at all parts of the panels. She spent the first minute or so mortified, and then found herself fighting laughter at the ridiculous picture she was presenting. André was keeping a straight face, but only just.

“Come on,” he said. “Get on with it. You’ve got lots more to do yet.”

“The cloth is falling out,” she complained.

“Tut tut tut,” he said. “Come over here. No, don’t touch it yourself. Keep those hands on your head like a good little exhibitionist so I can see all of you.” She turned round obediently at his order, then yelped as a large, hard hand came down in a stinging slap on her bare bottom.

“You get one of those every time you let the cloth go,” he said, grinning behind her back.

“Oh!” she rounded on him. “You are the most…”
”You’re wasting energy,” he pointed out. “Go shake your booty some more….Madame.”

His use of the title made it worse, just as he’d intended. It highlighted just how ignominious her current situation was. Normally, he was the servant, politely opening her door, speaking only when spoken to. Now, he was in charge, sitting watching her while she jiggled and shook every part of her naked body and generally made a total fool of herself. And yet she was still finding it funny.

He stopped her after about ten minutes, standing up and walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.
”You amaze me,” he said, tilting her hot, perspiring face up so he could kiss her.
”What, with my bouncing capacity?” she asked. He grinned.

“That too,” he said. “But I’m talking about your ability to laugh at yourself. I would never have guessed that oh so proper Lady Caroline could do something so silly and still see the funny side. I’m proud of you.” That shouldn’t have meant much, given what he’d just subjected her to, but it did.

He finished the polishing, then surprised her by pulling a large picnic basket out of the back of the limo.

“The chef made it up for me,” he said.

“Our chef?” Caroline asked. He nodded.

“Nice man,” André said. “A Belgian. He’s a good cook, too.” He spread a checked blanket out on the ground, put the basket on one corner of it, and then stretched out on it.

“Order number three?” Caroline guessed. He smiled.

“You are going to do the rest,” he said. “Unpack it, serve it up and feed me, and you can only be in one of two positions at all times; either on all fours, or sitting back on your heels, with your knees well apart. And you do not try to cover any part of your body.”

“That’s three orders in one,” she argued, then realised what she was doing. “But that’s fine, of course,” she added, making him laugh. She dropped to her knees on the blanket and reached for the basket.

“You’re a sick man, André DuPre,” she commented as she opened it. “And you’re definitely pushing your luck.”

Moving around on all fours, conscious of the movements of her body, conscious of his appreciation of it, Caroline felt as if every nerve ending in her body was supercharged, tingling with awareness. She laid out all of the separate little containers, taking their lids off and finding a quiet pleasure in arranging it all nicely on the part of the blanket not already occupied by André. She had never done this before, never had the chance. Always, there’d been servants, right since her childhood, and she’d never realised how much fun it could be. Not that she would have wanted to do it nude, given a choice, but she was doing her best to forget that part of it. And failing.

“What would you like to eat first?” she asked him. She looked into his eyes and was surprised at the tenderness she saw there.

“You,” he said quietly, and with feeling. She barely controlled a shudder, but her nipples hardened automatically. She knew he noticed – he could hardly miss it, given that they were right in front of his face.

“I don’t believe that is on the menu, sir,” she said. “What of the selection spread out on the blanket, and no, that does not include me, since you’ll notice I’m on the grass because a large man is actually taking up a lion’s share of the blanket, would you like to try first?” André was laughing.

“Paté,” he said. “Thank you waitress. I like your uniform.”
”You should,” she said, swivelling round to pick up the paté. “Given that you chose it. Now, do you want this on a cracker or on some crudités?”

“No,” he said.

“You just want it straight out of the tub?” she asked. He shook his head. Then he crooked a finger and beckoned her closer. She crawled towards him. He dipped a finger into the paté, then reached out and smeared it on her right nipple. She caught her breath at the coolness of it. It had been packed in with a cold bar, and it was as if it had just come out of the refrigerator. He rubbed the paté in, taking his own sweet time and making sure he covered every single part of the object of his attention. And then, he slid down the blanket, positioned himself under her, and began to slowly lick it off. Still on all fours, Caroline had to stifle an almost immediate moan as his tongue touched her, its pressure sending her breast rocking, swaying under her. As it settled back, his tongue caught it again, setting it off on another little jiggle. The very tip of his tongue swirled on her, and she arched her back and clenched her thighs together.

“André, I can’t do this,” she said, trying to catch her breath. It was the most erotic sensation.

“Yes you can,” he said, reaching out for the paté to anoint the other breast. With the warmth of the sun on her bare body, a slight breeze ruffling her hair, the insistent, teasing touch of his tongue on her, and one of his hands smoothed over her hip, Caroline rocked helplessly on the spot, her legs weak, her breathing ragged. He finished it by sucking on her, making sure he’d cleaned her.

“Well that was nice,” he said, sliding out from under her. He sat up and looked in the containers, his eyes lighting up when he saw a few long pieces of carrot, intended to be eaten with the paté he’d just found a different serving method for.

“Turn around for me, chérie,” he said. “Right around. Now, this may be a little cool.” She yelped as he parted her and slid it inside her – not right inside her, but far enough in that she could feel it. It felt not unlike what the tiny vibrator had, in exactly the same place.

“Put your head down on the blanket,” he said. “Right down, fold your arms and rest your head on them, and just keep your bottom up nice and high and your legs nice and wide. I have eight pieces of carrot here, Caroline. This may take a while.” Laughing as she wriggled her hips in protest, he bent down and began nibbling.

The food sat neglected on the blanket for some time while they made loud, vigorous love on the grass, Caroline’s legs up over André’s shoulders in a display of flexibility she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of. His hands were everywhere, all of the places his mouth had touched her, all of the places she’d been exposing as she followed his insane, obscene orders. Lying still, breathing hard in the aftermath, Caroline reached out a hand to casually swish a fly away from one of the containers.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “And I’m not feeding you any more. You can feed yourself now.” He said nothing, lying heavily on top of her. She slid one foot up the back of his leg, settled it on his bottom and dug her toes in.

“What do you think I am, a mattress?” she demanded. “This ground is hard, mister. Get off.”

“A very noisy mattress,” he complained. But he lifted himself off her anyway.
”And a beautiful one,” he said, leaning in to kiss her before rolling to a seated position.

“That’s it for the orders now,” Caroline said. “I know there is supposed to be another two, but I’m not doing any more. I’m a woman of honour, but you’re obviously a man with none at all.” He grinned.
”I’m surprised you did the last two,” he said. “I’d have told me to go to hell.”

“It was tempting,” she admitted. “Can I have the keys, so I can get my clothes?”
”No,” he said. “Want some chicken?”
”I want my clothes,” she said, sitting up. He shook his head.

“It’s nice chicken,” he said, having a bite.

“André,” she said warningly. He smiled at her.

“I’ll give you the keys after we’ve eaten,” he said. “But only if you sit just like that all through the meal.” She looked down. Her legs were wide apart, her hands braced behind her. She couldn’t have been more open.

“I don’t think so,” she said, moving to close her knees.

“I do,” André said, putting the back of one hand on one of her knees. He was holding a chicken drumstick in that hand. “Please, Caroline?”

“You’ve seen it all,” she reasoned with him. “All morning, you’ve been seeing everything.”
”And I’ve liked it a lot,” he said sincerely. “Please. Stay like that. I’ll feed you.” And so she did, completely exposed to his gaze, every part of her on show while he carefully selected the best parts of the food, broke off pieces and brought them to her lips, feeding her the entire meal from his fingers. She felt wild and wanton and more alive than she could ever remember being in her life.

………………

His cell phone rang as they were driving back and, mellow from hours of nonsense and magic, she answered it without thinking. A heavily accented voice asked for “Andy”. She handed it over to him.

“Andy?” she queried. He rolled his eyes and started talking rapid-fire to whoever the man was. It sounded like Spanish to Caroline, but she wasn’t sure. He finished the conversation fast and hung up.

“Was that Spanish?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Not French?”

“Not French,” he agreed.

“How many languages do you speak?” she asked.
”Five, fluently. I can make myself understood in another two or three,” he said.
”Five?” she was incredulous. “What…French, English, Spanish – what else?”
”German and Italian,” he answered. “With enough Greek, Swedish and Russian to get by if I have to.”

“You speak eight languages,” Caroline said, stunned. He nodded, casual about it.

”Why are you a chauffeur?” she asked. “No, why are you an illegal immigrant? You could get a job anywhere, André.”

“Not everywhere,” he said. “To truly be a linguist, I would need a few more languages. And I am too pushy to be a translator. I would be telling people that what they were saying was wrong instead of just translating it.”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re in this position, André?” she asked. “Ever?” He smiled.

“I intend to,” he said. “Just not yet. Be patient, Caroline.”

“Okay,” she said. “Andy.” He muttered something in French that she assumed to be a swear word.

He pulled the limousine up in front of the house.

“If you’ll wait, I’ll open the door for you,” he said.

“No need,” she said, doing it herself. He smiled.

“Would you like to do something this afternoon?” he asked. “Since we are both free?” She nodded.

“Yes,” she said.

“Any ideas?” he asked. She didn’t look or sound as if she was thinking of more activity of a horizontal nature, which was unfortunate, but he didn’t want to seem greedy.
”Yes,” she said. He laughed shortly.

“Are you planning to share them with me?” he asked. “And if you say “yes” again, I’m going to spank your bottom.”

“Again?” Caroline was indignant. “You did that three times today, if you remember.”
”I remember,” he assured her, picturing that round, bare bottom under his hand for three light smacks. “So?” he prompted. “What do you want to do?”

“I want you to pose for me,” she said. She saw his expression.

“What?” she asked. “Jon and Robert will be away for ages yet. They always are whenever they go off like this. Sometimes they don’t even come back

until the next morning.”
”Where have they gone?” he asked casually. She shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just every now and then, every two months or so, they go all mysterious and disappear for a day. Jon just tells me it’s business. Anyway, the point is that they’re not here, so you can come up to the studio and pose for me.”

“I have to put the car away,” he tried.

“Which will take – what, ten minutes?” she suggested.
”And take the basket back to the kitchen and put the cleaning fluids and gear away,” he was clutching at straws and he knew it.

“Another fifteen minutes,” she said. “Take another five to put your chauffeur’s uniform on. I’ll expect you in the studio in half an hour.”
”My uniform?” he asked. She nodded and climbed out of the car.

“See you there,” she said, in a voice which brooked no argument.

He was there, dressed as required in the black uniform and glossy black shoes, his cap held in his hands.

“Madame,” he said from the door. Caroline turned around and felt her heart thump harder. My goodness, but he was handsome. His height, his broad shoulders, the lean, strong length of his body, the well proportioned, good-looking face and the shining black hair combined to create the most marvellous looking specimen. The uniform set him off to perfection. Pity it was going to have to come off.

“Come in,” she said. “Shut the door. And lock it.”
”Madame,” he said again, acknowledging the instruction and following it to the letter. He looked around the room. It was big, with wooden floors and assorted furniture scattered around it. So much light flooded in through the windows and skylight that it was like being outdoors.

“This must be an amazing room to be in when there’s a storm,” he said.

“It is,” she said, watching him move. “One of my landscapes has a sky that I painted from life, as it were.” She walked over to the stacked canvases, flipped through them and slid one out. “That one,” she said.

It showed a vineyard, the vines tossed in a strong wind, hulking blue mountains barely visible in the downpour, a dark, brooding sky turning the landscape an electric green. André took it from her carefully, turning so the light from the window behind him was illuminating it. He studied it.
”I would like to buy this from you,” he said. “It reminds me of a place I know in France.”

“You can have it,” she smiled. “You don’t have to buy it.”
”You cannot just give this away,” he said. “It is wonderful, Caroline. You can’t give your work away to just anyone.”
”You’re hardly just anyone,” she pointed out. He dragged his eyes up from the painting and smiled at her.

“Then thank you,” he said. “I will treasure it.”

“Let’s get to work,” she said as he put it down against the wall. “I’d like you to lie down on the chaise, on your side, facing me.”

“You want me to take my shoes off first?” he asked. She smiled impishly.

“I want you to take everything off first,” she said, climbing up onto her stool. “And take if off slowly.” André exhaled loudly.

“You make me put this uniform on and then you make me take it off,” he said. She nodded.

“Why?” he asked, bordering on annoyed.

“Because you look so good in it,” she said. “And you’re going to look great coming out of it.” He opened his mouth to say something, couldn’t find the words, and settled for throwing his hands up in the air and laughing.

“Okay,” he said. “The lady wants to watch me strip out of my uniform, the least I can do is oblige.”
”The least you can do, given what you made me do this morning,” she agreed. He grinned as he reached for the top button of his jacket. She watched his every move – the jacket came off, then the shirt, leaving him bare-chested, but fully-dressed from the waist down. He sat down to remove his shoes and socks, then stood up again to undo his belt and his trousers. He pushed them down and stepped out of them, leaving him in only a pair of black briefs.
”They match your uniform,” she commented. “And your hair.”
”You want me to leave them on to create symmetry?” he teased.

“Not on your life,” she responded. “Take them off.” He did, flicking them over to his right and standing nude in front of her.

“That hair matches the hair on your head, too,” she said. He looked down, then back up at her.

“You thought perhaps I dyed my hair?” he asked, confused. She laughed.

“No. I was just saying that the hair there is the same colour as your briefs, so there’s symmetry anyway.” He shook his head as he sat down on the chaise and swung his legs up.
”On my side,” he said. She nodded.

“Legs stretched out, one hand on the chaise just in front of your chest, that’s good, and your other arm bent at the elbow, with the side of your head resting in your hand. Good. Now, just angle your hips round more so I can see all of you.” André glanced down. She could certainly see all of him.

“Now don’t move,” she said. “But when I get to your face, I want you to put that expression in your eyes.”
”What expression?” he asked.

“You know the one,” Caroline insisted. He shook his head apologetically.
”The one that says “well Caroline, you may be dressed now, but you just wait”, or something like that.”
”Oh, that one,” he grinned. “I think I can manage that.”

“I have no doubt at all,” she said, picking up a pencil and starting to get the dimensions.

She lost all track of time as she painted, not even talking to him, focusing instead on the play of light on his naked body, the subtle differences in his skin tone, the lines of him, the texture of him, the sheer male beauty of him. It was the sound of the door handle turning, then rattling that shook her out of her reverie. Startled, she looked up.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t have a watch on,” André reminded her. He was stiff and sore from lying still for hours, but he’d greatly enjoyed watching her work, watching the single-minded concentration with which she’d attacked it. She looked at her own watch.

“Dear heaven, it’s 6.00 o’clock!” she said.

“Open the bloody door, Caroline,” Jon’s voice called.
”Get dressed,” she hissed at André. “Quickly, or he’ll go for the master key.”
”Now she tells me there’s a master key,” he said, reaching for his briefs. He dressed quickly, while Jon continued to knock on the door.

“He doesn’t give up easily, does he?” André commented, pulling his shirt on. He left his shoes until last.

“No,” Caroline said, standing beside the door. “In a minute, Jon. Just wait!”

“I hate waiting,” his voice said petulantly. “Open this door NOW, Carrie!” She looked back. André had his jacket on and was doing the silver buttons up fast. He was still bare-foot, but that wasn’t too much of an issue. She unlocked the door.

“About time,” he said, stomping in. “What was that all about…ohhh. Hello André.”
”Sir,” André said. He sat down and began tugging a sock on.

“Just getting dressed, are we?” Jon asked. He wasn’t sounding quite as chipper as normal. In fact, he sounded as if he was in a bad mood.
”Just putting my shoes on, sir,” André stated the obvious.

“After doing what?” Jon demanded. He rounded on Caroline.

“Posing, actually,” she said. “And no, I don’t want you to look at it.”
”Bad luck,” Jon said, darting round her and covering the distance to the canvas before she could. André almost moved to block him, but stopped himself in time. Instead, he concentrated on doing his shoes up, watching out of the corner of his eye as Caroline sighed, then followed Jon.

“Woo hoo,” Jon said reverently. “Next time he poses, I MUST be here, Carrie. I can’t stress that point enough.”

“This was a one-off,” Caroline said, sincerely hoping it wasn’t.

“Oh, but it can’t be,” Jon said. “He is extraordinary.” Fully dressed, André couldn’t resist the need to look for himself. He walked around, stood behind Caroline and looked over her head at it. And shook his head in wonder.

“It is like looking in a mirror,” he said. Without realising it, his hands had gone to her shoulders. Jon, turning to look at him, saw, but said nothing.
”You really look like this naked?” he asked instead.

“Exactly like that,” André said, wishing the man wasn’t looking quite so closely.

“Proportions are correct?” Jon persisted. André played the game.

“They look right to me,” he said.

“Dear me,” Jon said, pretending to sound faint. “What a lucky girl you are, Carrie.” No-one said anything in reply.

“It’s finished?” he asked her. She shook her head.

“Not quite,” she said.
”I want it when it is,” he said.

“I don’t think so,” Caroline said.

“Think again,” Jon said. “I know exactly where I’m going to hang it. And it’s going to be very well hung. Appropriate, don’t you think, André?”

“I think it’s up to Caroline,” André said, ignoring the smutty pun.

“Not as long as I’m paying for the canvases and paints, it’s not,” Jon said. “Or Robert, which amounts to the same thing. I want it, Carrie. Let me know when it’s finished. Oh, and hello, by the way, pet. Business went well.” He kissed her cheeks in a perfunctory fashion and left.

Caroline was looking stunned.

“He’s not always a nice man,” André commented.

“That’s the first time he’s ever held that over me,” she said. “That he and Robert pay for what I use here.” She turned to face him. “I didn’t like that.”
”I didn’t either,” he said. “And I didn’t like the way he looked at the painting.” Or at you, he added to himself. The lustful look in Jon’s eyes had not changed one iota when he’d looked from the nude painting to André, to Caroline. He fought the urge to lure her down to the cottage now, to take her somewhere safe and tell her what was happening. He quelled it. He could wreck everything if he did that, and he’d never forgive himself.

“I’d better go,” he said. Caroline nodded. Jon had taken the shine off a magical day.

“I’ll be there tonight,” she said.

“I’ll see you then,” he replied. He kissed her, once, then twice. “It was a lovely day,” he said. She managed a smile.

“It was,” she agreed. He left, picking up the vineyard painting on the way.

………..

Whatever had happened during the day had left both Jon and Robert in sullen moods, and Caroline was more than happy to leave them both at the dinner table.

“Rushing off to make babies again?” Jon asked.
”It was your idea,” she reminded him.

“And let’s pretend that you still don’t like it, shall we?” he responded cattily. “That way you can continue to be the pure little innocent.”
”Jon,” said Robert, who didn’t like unpleasantness. “Is there any need for this?”
”None at all, my love,” Jon said. “Run along, Carrie. I’ll be in a better mood in the morning. As, no doubt, will you, after a night spent in the bed of the divine André.”

“The divine André” was standing outside the cottage waiting for her when she walked down.

“All right?” he asked. She nodded, but went happily into his arms for a comforting hug. “I was worried about you,” he added. “I didn’t like leaving you there.”
”Jon’s all right,” she said. “He just gets a little bitchy now and then.” It had seemed a bit more than just bitchy to André, but he didn’t say any more. His arm around her, he led her into the cottage.

“This is a bitch-free zone,” he said as he shut the door. Caroline smiled. And then she smiled again when she saw her painting hanging on the wall.

“It reminds me of home,” he said as she crossed to look at it. “I’ll make a frame for it soon, but for now, I wanted it where I could look at it. What is wrong?” She was looking quizzically at him.

“You said you grew up on the coast, in the South of France,” she said. He nodded.

“I lived in a few places,” he said. “The vineyard reminds me of one of them. Thank you again for giving it to me.”

“My pleasure,” she assured him. She wandered over and sat down on one of the chairs. He joined her.

“What would you be doing if you weren’t a chauffeur?” she asked. He smiled and shrugged.
”This or that,” he said. “I’ve tried a few different things in my time.”
”Like?”

“All sorts of things,” he said evasively. “I have worked in more than ten countries, and I have done so many different things. How about you? Have you ever had a job?”
”Cut your tongue out,” she said haughtily. Then she smiled. “I’ll have you know that Carter-Winehoffs do not work. Not unless they are running the family investments into the ground.” She winced. She hadn’t meant to say that.

“This happens often?” André asked.

“With monotonous regularity since my brother took over,” she sighed. She’d already let the cat out of the bag anyway. “My father made some disastrous investments and refused to get out of them even when he had the chance to salvage something. Once I…once it was put right, after he died, my brother David took over and did his best to outshine father.”

“When did your father die?”

“Just over three years ago,” she said. “About two months before I married Robert.” André nodded.

“Heart attack?” he guessed.

“Yes,” she nodded, but there was something in her face that made him lean forward and narrow his eyes.

“Really?” he asked. Caroline looked away.

“You see too much,” she accused. That’s my job, he wanted to say, but he didn’t.

“I know your face well,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time looking at it, awake and in dreams.”

“You say the nicest things,” she said, and meant it.

“So – your father?” he asked. She was silent for almost a minute. Comfortable with silence, André said nothing.
”He killed himself,” she said. “With sleeping tablets. Robert hushed it up somehow, kept it from becoming public. I don’t know how, and I didn’t ask. He and Jon just arrived like the cavalry and swept all before them.”
”You knew him well? Sir Robert?”

“Hardly at all,” Caroline answered. “I’d met him a few times socially. I hadn’t met Jon at all, because although he’s the mainstay of their businesses, he doesn’t appear socially with Robert, naturally. No, the day father died, Robert rang. I don’t know how he heard the news, but he did, and mother invited him over and…well, that was it.” Things were clicking into place in André’s head, but he made sure his expression didn’t show that.

“Your mother is still alive?” he asked. Caroline nodded.

“She’s the head of the David Carter-Winehoff Appreciation Society,” she said glibly. “Ooops. I forgot that this is a bitch-free zone. I take that comment back.” André smiled.

“I’ll make just this one exception,” he said. “If you do it again, I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you. So, your mother is very supportive of your brother.”

“My elder brother,” Caroline qualified. “She tends to ignore my younger brother, James, and she views me as somewhat of a trial and a disappointment.”

“Even though you are beautiful, talented, and your marriage saved your family name and businesses?” André asked. Caroline frowned.
”Did I say that Robert bailed out the family businesses?” she asked.
”Not in so many words,” André said, chastising himself inwardly. There were some things he knew already. He had to be more careful.

“Well, he did, as you guessed,” she said. “And he’s done it several times, as David continues to throw good money after bad. He’s wilfully reckless. Anything that any reputable investor considers to be high risk is still too safe for David. He’s not happy unless he’s putting every cent into something so outrageous that no-one with any sense would touch it. He sees himself as a pioneer, a maverick, and he’s convinced that one day, the world will agree.”

“You don’t like him much,” André observed.

“No, and that’s the main problem as far as my mother’s concerned,” she admitted. “I refused to be a card-carrying member of the David Carter-Winehoff Appreciation Society. In fact, I used to argue with him all the time. Unforgiveable.”

“And your younger brother?” he asked. Caroline smiled.

“He’s amazing,” she said. “He just carries on with his life as though Mother and David are background noise. He’s very smart and he’s very adaptable. I’d think he’d be just as happy living in suburbia behind a picket fence as in the family mansion.”
”How old is he?” André asked. He could hear her affection for the younger brother.

“Sixteen,” she said. “In about ten years, he’ll be ready to take over from David, and he’ll do it effortlessly. But I need to give him those ten years.”
”YOU need to?” André repeated. “Why do you need to?”
”Because no-one else will,” she said simply. “Enough. Let’s talk about your family now.”

“My parents died in a plane crash when I was a child, and I was raised by my Grandmother,” he said.

“And?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you the rest some other time,” he said, standing up.

‘Why some other time?” she asked.

“Because I spent several hours in your studio with you this afternoon, and I have just spent fifteen minutes with you now, and I have not seen you naked in this time. This is a strain on me, and it is not good for me,” he said. “You need to save me.” Caroline laughed.

“You saw me naked all morning,” she reminded him. He nodded.
”And so I have a clear, recent, mental picture of what I am missing now. Come on, let me help you off with those uncomfortable things.”
”They’re comfortable,” she said.
”All ripped like that?” he asked. She looked down.

“They’re not ripped,” she said. She looked up and then grinned, knowing what he was going to say next.

“They will be soon, if you don’t take them off,” he said, not disappointing her.

When he was lowering her to the bed, she suddenly laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“I forgot about the vibrator,” she admitted.
”I forgot to give it back to you last night,” he pointed out.

“Dear me, how will my muscles get a workout?” she asked.
”I have some ideas for that,” he said, kissing her. “For a start, I’ve got something for you to grip onto. Here, just let me get it out.”

She didn’t fall asleep the way she had the night before, but when he murmured “stay with me” in her ear, she nodded, smiled, and cuddled into him, sleeping peacefully in his arms all night.

And in the morning, when she went back to her room and remembered that she’d forgotten to take two pills in a row, she held the card in her hand, thought about it for a while, and then put it back in the drawer without doing anything about it.