Authors: Lulu Taylor
‘Please don’t be mortified. It wasn’t your fault in the least. I’m very flattered that you find me attractive.’
‘But of course. You are lovely,’ Claudine said frankly. Her eyes flicked down over Jemima’s body: the full round breasts, small waist and long legs. The sight seemed to fill her with renewed confidence. She reached out and stroked Jemima’s cheek. ‘Is there no chance that you could let me show you a more beautiful way to make love?’
‘It’s tempting,’ Jemima smiled. Apart from practising French kissing once or twice with girls in the boarding house at school, her one real experience of another woman had been when she’d been high on coke and champagne and had gone to bed with a famous model and her boyfriend. They had been too out of it to end up too entangled in a full-blown sex session but Jemima remembered enjoying the other girl’s soft kisses and the pressing together of their bodies. It was not something that repelled her, it was just that she had always preferred men. ‘But …’
‘But?’ Claudine moved closer and touched her lips to Jemima’s again. ‘It is not a crime, you know, to share warmth, comfort and pleasure with another human. We are both grown up. If I were a man, would you sleep with me?’
‘Probably…’ It was true she did find Claudine attractive. The older woman was so immaculate and stylish, so confident and self-possessed. Her skill and quick mind, even her very French temper, were fascinating. Jemima could not help thinking that the other woman would be just as skilled at teasing pleasure from her body as she was at conjuring beautiful scents from tiny molecules. She would understand the power of small but perfect movements. Jemima could feel the pent-up lust from the previous night waken and tingle lightly all over her body as she imagined what it might be like to allow Claudine to seduce her.
‘Then why not let yourself? What is to stop you?’
‘We work together. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘I’m not your employee. You are not abusing my
position.
I am my own mistress, remember?’ She ran her lips along Jemima’s jaw line, brushing one hand lightly over her breast. Jemima shivered. Without meaning to, she was enjoying the delicate, bird’s wing touches.
‘Shall I stop?’ The soft hand was rubbing gently across one breast, skilfully arousing the nipple beneath Jemima’s lace bra.
‘I don’t want to lead you on,’ whispered Jemima. ‘And I’m not sure how much I would be able to … reciprocate.’
‘I shan’t expect a thing in return. I only want to give you pleasure. You won’t owe me anything.’ Her low voice was persuasive, seductive. The lips were back on hers, pressing softly, begging to be let in.
I hope I don’t regret this
, Jemima thought as she opened her mouth. Claudine kissed her fully, slipping her tongue inside her mouth. She tasted warm and rich, of red wine and honey.
This doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would
.
‘Trust me,’ whispered Claudine insistently. She led Jemima to the rug before the fireplace, and pulled her down on to it so that they were both sitting facing one another. Then she returned to kissing her, a little harder now, and with deft hands quickly unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it back, revealing Jemima’s breasts.
Jemima felt the hot rush of arousal. Whatever was happening to her was too delicious and intense to stop. She felt entirely passive, entirely in Claudine’s hands, and the sensation was novel and pleasant.
Usually
she was an active, even dominant partner in sex. Tonight, she was ready to be worshipped.
Lying her back, Claudine began to kiss lightly down Jemima’s body, massaging her soft skin as she did, neatly pushing away her clothes and unzipping her skirt until she was lying only in her underwear. The heat building up inside her was intense as Claudine released her breasts from her bra and began to suck gently on each nipple in turn, grazing them with her teeth, getting more and more persistent until each one was rock hard and hypersensitive.
Jemima’s breathing grew faster and faster and her heart was pounding. No one in her life had spent so long adoring her breasts, titillating them, bringing her to such a pitch of excitement. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to think only of the sensations she was enjoying, as Claudine began to slide further down her body.
She knew what was coming, and the anticipation of it was almost unbearable, like a terrible ache. Then Claudine reached her panties, slid them quickly off, parted her legs and dipped her head downwards.
The feel of her soft, warm tongue exploring her made every nerve in Jemima’s body tingle but the pool of sensation was greatest in her stomach and groin, where heat and desire were building together into an intense feeling. Without being aware of what she was doing, she spread her legs wider and put her hand on the top of Claudine’s head, as if to prevent her from stopping the delicious licking and sucking that was sending huge waves of pleasure through her body.
Oh God, I’m going to come at once … I won’t be able to hold …
Reading her body expertly, Claudine stopped tickling her clitoris and moved further down. Jemima gasped. She could feel Claudine’s fingers entering her, the pad of her thumb moving softly around her mound, keeping her at the height of ecstasy but not allowing her over the edge to orgasm. For endless minutes, the delicious, tantalising sensations continued, until Claudine began to raise the pace again. She pushed her fingers faster and deeper into Jemima, taking her mouth back to her clitoris, licking, sucking and tickling more and more forcefully until, suddenly, the full force of a huge climax burst over Jemima. She cried out, her limbs shuddering and her back arched, the intensity unlike anything she had known, until, at last, it subsided, leaving her breathless.
Claudine slid upwards to lie next to Jemima, her eyes triumphant. Jemima could smell her own scent on the other woman’s lips. Still panting, she reached over and pressed her forefinger to Claudine’s mouth.
Claudine smiled and whispered, ‘And that is my favourite perfume of all.’
35
THE FOLLOWING WEEK
, the women of Trevellyan managed to achieve some significant targets.
Loxton was on the market at last and there seemed to be a steady stream of wealthy and enthusiastic viewers. Even though the property market had been in trouble recently, it appeared that at the high end, it was still ticking over nicely. The contents had been assessed and removed by the auctioneers and they were preparing a catalogue of sale. They seemed confident of a high return. Some of the furniture was first class, and causing some excitement in certain circles. It seemed that Yolanda’s taste for ornate French pieces was shared by quite a few other people equally willing to pay an extortionate sum for it.
Poppy brought in her colour samples and everybody agreed at once that her favourite nude pink was exactly the colour they wanted.
‘Feminine but not sickly. Sophisticated,’ said Donna happily. ‘Excellent. We’ll call it Trevellyan pink and I’ll alert the designers at once.’
‘Now it’s a question of how we use it,’ agreed Poppy. The bottle would be based on the classic flacon from the Trevellyan archives, except it would be curved, not spherical but more egg-shaped. Its clear glass would be slightly pleated and at the top, a heavy silver round cap would cover the spray head.
‘Should we tint the juice?’ Donna asked, frowning. ‘We could turn it pink.’
‘I think it should be a light gold colour,’ Poppy declared. ‘And round the top, under the silver cap, a small ribbon in our nude pink.’ She brought out a sketch she had made. ‘The label will be on the front, also in nude pink. The name of the perfume in clean, plain black letters:
Tea Rose
.’
‘Will we use pink for all our scents?’ Tara queried. ‘We’d have to redesign them and we don’t have much time. Should
Antique Lily
have the same pink ribbon and label?’
‘Hmm.’ Poppy thought. ‘No, I think each will have to have its own colour. But overall, the signature colour will be this pink, and we’ll use the same bottle design, box design and font.’
‘Won’t it be a little confusing?’ asked Jemima.
‘I think it will work,’ Donna said. ‘The bottle itself will be the link between the fragrances. Which is good,’ she looked at some figures on her laptop screen, ‘as Poppy appears to have settled on the most expensive bottle design possible. It’s going to cost us thousands to have this made up as a model. Make that
tens
of thousands.’
‘It’ll be worth it,’ Poppy said stubbornly. She wasn’t
prepared
to compromise. She had realised the vision of the Trevellyan bottle and now she would fight for it.
‘The positive side is that we’ll use it for all the women’s fragrances. That will actually make them cheaper, as
Tea Rose
will carry all the origination costs,’ put in Tara. ‘And our larger orders will bring the unit cost down.’
‘OK, OK, you’ve convinced me! I think it looks great.’ Donna smiled at Poppy. ‘Congratulations, you’ve done a top job.’
Now the reality of what it would cost them to relaunch Trevellyan began to hit home. They would not be able to calculate the exact cost until the final version of
Tea Rose
was decided on and Claudine could give them the price of the compound. Once that was done, they could begin to set production in motion.
But with the signature colour decided upon, they pushed forward on refitting the shop. Designs were submitted by various companies and the girls carefully evaluated each one, arguing, discussing, putting forward ideas and visions, until at last they had hammered out one coherent look for the shop.
The old dark wood panelling would be gone for ever, to be replaced with a fresh, white interior, with touches of the nude pink colour. On glass shelves, the products would be displayed in neat rows, enticing and beautiful, and on glass tables, displays of one particular scent in all its forms, whether perfume, eau de toilette, soap, body lotion or fragranced candle, would be set up. In one area would be the personal
consultation
booths, where it would be possible for customers to mix scents and customise them to their own satisfaction. At the back of the shop would be the treatment rooms, also clean, light and white.
‘This is great,’ exclaimed Donna. ‘It’s going to look gorgeous. My only worry is that we’re not going to be able to create all our ancillary products in time for the opening. We’ve got a huge mountain to climb.’
‘If we’re launching in November, we’ve got six months, haven’t we?’ asked Jemima.
‘Six months to create face creams, moisturisers, treatments …? To commission room sprays, candles, incense sticks … We haven’t even got the final
Tea Rose
scent yet. Incidentally, does anyone know when Claudine will be back?’
Jemima shook her head, feeling herself unexpectedly flush.
‘She emailed me this morning to say she’s on her way back this afternoon. We’ll have her samples first thing tomorrow,’ said Tara.
‘We’ve got lots of products already,’ pointed out Poppy. ‘There are bath oils already in production, and hand lotions. Surely we’re halfway there.’
Donna sighed. ‘I wish it were that easy. But until we’ve decided on the final
Tea Rose
juice, we won’t know how stable it is, how easily it can be transformed into other products. I guess tomorrow is crunch time.’
George and Poppy were spending more and more time together. She knew she was falling in love and it seemed
that
George felt the same. He wanted to spend every minute he could with her and was always waiting for her when she got back from Trevellyan.
‘You don’t seem to have to go to work very much,’ she said, as they finished their supper.
‘I was there today,’ George said indignantly. ‘I sold four copies of the new Julian Barnes, if you must know, single-handed.’
‘Now that
is
impressive.’ Poppy smiled.
‘My hours aren’t that demanding,’ conceded George. ‘Sylvester basically lets me do whatever I like. If it’s a quiet afternoon, I just let my assistant get on with it and sneak off.’ He leaned over and held her hand.
‘I’m very glad your employer is so obliging.’
‘Me too. He’s a very kind uncle.’
Poppy blinked. ‘Oh – is he your uncle? I thought he was a friend of your aunt’s.’
‘Yes, yes, he is. You know, like an honorary uncle. Because we’ve known him for years. So tomorrow is a big day, is it?’
Poppy nodded. ‘Our perfumer is coming back with her samples. We’re going to choose the new scent. It’s very exciting.’
‘And they loved the new colour?’
‘Yes, I’m thrilled. Nude pink is now the colour of Trevellyan!’
‘Mmm. Sounds rather sexy …’ George looked at her, desire in his eyes. ‘Shall we go to bed?’
‘It’s only nine-thirty!’
‘I wasn’t planning on sleeping for a little while yet.’
She laughed. ‘George, you’re incorrigible.’ But she could not resist him.
They gathered in the boardroom the next day, waiting nervously for Claudine to arrive. When she did come marching into the boardroom, she gave absolutely nothing away. There was no sign of nerves or apprehension on her face, not a clue as to whether she was happy with her creations or not.
‘
Bon
,’ she said, sitting down opposite the sisters and Donna. ‘Let’s get started.’
Jemima tried to remain as impassive as Claudine but it was hard not to feel something. After all, the last time they had seen each other, Claudine had driven her to a peak of ecstasy. But the agreement had been that there would be no repercussions from their encounter and it appeared Claudine was keeping to it. She didn’t so much as flick a glance in Jemima’s direction. Instead, she put a neat black case on the table, opened it and brought out three small phials. Each had a tiny white label on it with a letter and a number inked on it. Claudine then pulled out a handful of paper strips.
‘Now,’ she said importantly. ‘Please prepare yourselves.’
She opened the lid of one of the phials, picked up five paper strips and dipped them into the clear, hay-coloured liquid in the phial. Then she passed them over the table, keeping one for herself. Each woman took one, held it beneath her nose and inhaled. There was silence as they tried to evaluate what they were smelling.