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Diana shuddered. Her reaction was instant, total. There could be no more lies, not even to herself. She moaned lightly in the back of her throat, a soft, small sound, ripped from her by his touch. Her pussy was moist, open and wanting. There was none of the slight recoil, the drawing back she felt in her skin when Brad tried to touch her. Warm blood surged into her nipples, hardening them into tight little pebbles, sensitive and aching so that the soft silk of her bra was almost unbearable on them.
Michael heard her. He instantly tipped back her chair
and scooped her up into his arms, letting the chair topple to the floor. He cradled her weight like it was nothing to him. Diana felt his kisses on her mouth, her cheeks, her neck. They were not soft. His teeth half-bit, tore at her. Months and months of frustrated desire were unleashed on her.
‘Michael—’ she whispered.
‘Shut up,’ he said, bluntly. ‘Just be quiet. You don’t
make a sound. I don’t want to,hear it.’
He carried her upstairs and pushed open the door to
his bedroom, half shoving Diana inside. She stumbled in front of him, then turned to face him. Michael pulled down the dress from her shoulders, stripping her to the waist, holding her eyes.
‘You left me,’ he said. His voice was thick with lust.
‘You fucking left me. You made me wait for this.’
He tugged the silk bra off her breasts impatiently. They
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were warm, swollen slightly. Michael held each one in his hands, as though assessing their weight. Then he brushed his thumb over the aching skin of her nipples. Diana felt an electric shock of pleasure and lust, a silver chain running from her breasts down to her belly, the soft cradle of flesh right above her groin. Her nipples hardened visibly.
Michael said, ‘Maybe I wasn’t the only one waiting.’ ‘I—’ Diana started. He shook his head. ‘I told you not to speak. If you make another sound I’m going to stop touching you.’
Then he lowered his dark head and flicked out his tongue, circling lightly round the rosy skin, never quite touching it, until she was biting her cheeks to keep herself from begging him. Mutely, Diana lifted herself to him, pressed herself into his hands. But Michael was cruel. He slipped his hands away from her breasts down to her butt, lifting his head to watch her face as he cupped and kneaded it.
‘You have such a great ass,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Everywhere you go I try to walk behind it just to watch it roll. I want to check it’s the same as when I left it. Don’t move.’
He tugged her dress down at the waist and kicked it from him, then rolled down her white cotton panties. Diana stood, trembling, .her need for him so intense she didn’t dare to disobey. She kept her head lifted, staring at the wall. She knew that he was crouching at her groin, staring at her pussy, the neatly trimmed, soft, silky black hairs of it. She was ready for him. She wondered if he could smell it. The thought of his eyes on her made her so hot she started to tremble. She didn’t know how long her legs would hold up.
And then he was back at eye level, his hands on her naked ass, stroking it and petting it, condescendingly, letting her know he knew exactly how hot she was, but
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not letting her move. He would control everything, even her release. Diana’s breath was coming from her in great, ragged sobs.
‘You want to say something,’ Michael murmured, pressing his erection against her. He was so thick, it was incredible. Diana longed to feel him spearing inside her. Her body had never forgotten what it was like to be fucked by Michael. You felt as if you were being plugged. And yet the itch was not scratched, you just wanted more.
Diana whimpered.
‘Not yet, girl,’ he said. He picked her up again and laid
her down roughly on the bed. Her skin, below him, was mottled with lust, reddening across the length of her body. Experimentally, Michael cupped his rough hand over her pussy. She was soaking wet, completely open to him. He groaned deep in the back of his throat and pinned her arms over her head, nudging her tanned thighs apart with his knees. Then he lowered his mouth deliberately onto hers, and entered her, and Diana lifted her body up to him, taking him, loving and lost in him.
The break with Brad proved surprisingly difficult.
He took it well, of course. Brad Bailey would never
make a scene. Diana invited him over to her apartment for dinner in order to give him an easy out. But all he did was push the caviar around his plate and raise an eyebrow. ,
‘You’re making a mistake,’ he said, factually. His handsome face was as open and easy as ever. ‘You think you love this man because of your crazy schedule. You two are like.., brothers in arms, I guess. But what does he have to offer you? A mill, two or three at best? I hear he’s a good enough guy, but he’s not your kind of person.’
‘And what is my kind of person?’ Diana asked, sipping
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her Chardonnay. ‘Michael is a go-getter, Brad. He’s a self-made man.’
‘But you and I aren’t self-made people. We were born into a certain stratum of society. It’s why your marriage to Ernie was such a mistake. You had class, and he
didn’t. I think you’re just repeating that mistake now.’ ‘I may be,’ Diana said, neutrally.
‘Well.’ Brad pushed back his chair and smiled at her as though nothing much had happened. ‘I can’t promise to wait for you but, assuming I don’t find someone else, you should call me when you come to your senses. And take care of yourself in the meantime.’
‘You too, Brad. I’m sorry it didn’t work out,’ Diana said, kissing him on the cheek, then shutting the door behind him.
She sat back down at her table and gazed at the Limoges plates, the crystal cut glass, the abandoned pheasant and herbed potatoes she had had sent in for dinner, bewildered. All the money and extravagant courting had just gone up in smoke for Brad, and he had been so calm.
Diana gazed out over the sparkling lights of the city and it hit her. He didn’t buy it. Handsome Brad Bailey could not actually credit that he was being dumped for a nobody, an entrepreneur from the wrong side of town. He assumed she would wake up and smell the Jamaican Blue Mountain, and come back to him humbly asking for a second chance. With Michael, even now, there was the possibility it might not work out. They had been shafted in business before, and it could happen again.
Brad Bailey was offering a future so bright, even the grasping trophy wife Diana had been couldn’t have imagined it.
He just did not believe she was turning him down. Claire would be devastated, and Elspeth severely disapproving.
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But Diana’s body still echoed with the aftershocks of Michael’s love-making last night. His tongue, merciless and insistent, dragging over the rich, musky centre of her, had had her thrashing about in his sheets like a landed fish. He had put her on her hands and knees, her belly, her side, he had bent her over and forced her to the ground, his fist in her hair, just to watch her pleasure him. They had spent hours love-making with an almost savage thirst, and then, finally, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
And she knew when she woke she would risk everything to stay with him.
Diana and Michael now dated openly, even in the office.
‘Look, James Carville and Mary Matalin got married,’ Claire told them. ‘He was a spin doctor for the Democrats, she for the Republicans. And if they can marry I don’t see why you guys can’t date.’
Diana smiled over at Michael. Dating. Is that what they were doing? Up at six, working like dogs until seven, coming home, barely through the door before there was a tangle of limbs and skin and hair and mouths? It was amazing to her that they managed to fit in time for eating.
There were problems. Tina Armis had quit, but not quietly. She walked out screaming at Michael, then marched across the hall to Diana’s office. Diana could have had her thrown out, but she dismissed Ellen and let Tina rave. No point in adding insult to injury.
The younger woman slammed Diana’s door shut and yelled at her. She looked comical, standing there in her string of demure pearls and her long yellow dress, with her blond hair neatly washed and brushed, and her face as red as a drunkard’s, her mouth open, bawling at Diana.
‘You goddamn lying English witch! Fucking limey
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gold-digger,’ Tina said, with supreme ignorance of the irony. ‘You always had your eye on my man. Home wrecker! No wonder your first husband fired you. When Michael finds out you’re just after his money he’ll lose you like a bad habit.’
‘Look, Tina, I’m sorry you’ve been hurt,’ Diana said, calmly. ‘I love Michael—’
‘Love his money,’ Tina sneered.
‘My ex-boyfriend had a lot more money than Michael does.’
‘Right, and now you go around town pretending that you broke up with Brad Bailey when everybody knows he dumped you. Michael deserves better than to be your second choice. And when he realises that he’ll be right back with me. Where he belongs.’
‘I’ll have to take that chance,’ Diana said softly. ‘That’s right.’ Tina was practically spitting at her. ‘You will. You’re older than me and you could stand to lose a few pounds, lady. And you’re a goddamn limey who couldn’t possibly understand him. Michael and me are two of a kind. We’re both from the Bronx.’ She snapped her fingers, aggressively.
‘Except that Michael is intelligent and motivated, and you’re a gum-chewing, skinny little bimbo, who got passed over for a smart girl with tits and ass. If I were you, I’d eat some food,’ .Diana said, easily.
Tina’s mouth dropped wide open. She stared at Diana as though rooted to the spot. She couldn’t believe the fucking ice-queen could come our with language like that.
‘See you around,’ Diana added, opening her door and beckoning to Ellen to show Tina out.
When Tina had gone she grinned to herself. That hadn’t exactly been ladylike, but it had certainly been fun.
Maybe she was turning into a New Yorker.
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uilding up Imperial was one of the hardest, most exhausting, stressful, exhilarating and energising times of Diana’s life. All day, every day, she met with package designers, ad specialists, code-writers and web experts. She was in and out of planes, limos and cabs, and she took her work with her wherever she went. Diana revamped the Gecko series with her new cash. It was the commercial and critical success which announced to the whole world that Imperial meant business.
But the travel guides, Michael’s project, were their greatest hit. Suddenly, student tourists could see and hear the cities they were visiting, in living colour. The guides sold out before the first run even hit the stores. Amazon could not keep enough stock. The only problem they had was rushing out more titles to meet demand.
Art Jankel came to see Diana. He shook her hand and offered her a slim cheroot. He told her he was very pleased, then he left.
The next morning a messenger arrived from Jankel’s office on the forty-eighth floor with a slim envelope for Diana.
Inside was a printed card announcing ‘an enclosed bonus’. There was also a cheque. Diana opened it carefully.
It was made out to her for a quarter of a million dollars.
‘No, I’m not taking any of that, money.’ Michael shook his head as Diana glanced out at the midtown traffic. New Yorkers were cursing and hooting at each other as usual. ‘You earned it. It’s about a quarter of what old man Jankel has made on the rise of his stock so far.
We’re beating the Blakely’s games out of Sight.’ ‘Especially now.’
Michael’s big paw squeezed her soft hands.
‘Right, especially now.’
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B
She fell silent. This was a big day for Michael, and for
her. Ernie was about to learn that payback was a bitch. There was a mass of limos double parked and honking at each other right down Seventh Avenue, forced to line up outside the peepshow stores and Disney musicals that jostled for space a couple of blocks away from the Blakely’s building. Michael was glad he’d taken a cab. Jostling for position was aggravating, and worse, it took time.
Ernie and the Blakely’s board were nowhere to be seen in the packed conference room, which was as he’d expected. Michael signed up to speak, twelfth on a long list. He did not expect Foxton to realise he was there. The buying had been done quietly and the consolidating even more quietly. He did not have to disclose his stake yet; he’d hovered just below the Securities and Exchange Commission watershed for announcement, set so that targeted companies had some warning of when they were about to be taken over.
He wasn’t planning on taking over Blakely’s. It was better to have your own business, to build it from the ground up. Michael waited until Diana was seated, then took his place beside her. Around the room were giant blow-up posters of Blakely’s latest and greatest best sellers. Michael recogvtised them all. Popular novelists, for sure; marquee names. They also had marquee prices. He wondered how Ernie’s henchmen were going to spin this. The balance sheet looked good, unless you really knew the book business. If this company was going to survive, the board would need to recognise their mistake.
You didn’t throw tradition away to grab at the quick fix, the easy buck. For a quarter or two you were a star. And then the cracks started to show.
Well, Michael thought, settling back in his seat. I’m here now. And I’m their wake-up call.
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‘And so, we feel that the improved balance sheet, the cost savings and our gain in market share are positioning Blakely’s uniquely well to move forward in this new millennium as the publishing house of the future,’ Ernie said, leaning a little into his microphone.
Diana admired his skill. You couldn’t help but notice
how slickly he dodged the bullets. The overpayment of authors was ‘an investment’. The firing of all their best people ‘an assault on overhead’. The old-money types who had stock in Blakely’s were clearly not too well versed in the nuts and bolts of the book industry. Peter Davits, the tall, Slavonicqooking man, had done a nice little song and dance that made it sound like the Blakely’s