Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (6 page)

A black Cadillac Stretch limo pulled into the curb. She watched the boys plant their eyes on it. Freddie stepped out from the back and held the door open.

“Madame... I am lost in the big city... you can ‘elp me perhaps?” He said in his pantomime French accent. She went to the car as he took a step towards the hooded boys. No one met his gaze. He was about 6 feet 3 inches, 200 lbs and had total self assurance. If even she had felt the heat of his presence, these kids were about to get burned. In a second they had glanced at each other and had gone. He stepped back into the car and sat beside her. “Maybe they were rude kids?” He commented. “They have not so many chances in life perhaps.”

He looked fantastic in a deep blue casual jacket, open neck striped blue shirt and black pleated trousers that fitted tightly around his honed waist and buttocks. She settled down into the sumptuous red leather of the Cadillac. The in car music system played a gentle piano sonata.

“I’m so happy you could meet me.” He said softly, picking up her hand as if he simply could, as if he had that automatic power. She smiled acknowledging her assent. She let the mood of the music relax her as the huge vehicle cruised smoothly across London. He kept her hand, stroking each of her fingers tenderly with his powerful hands as if he was mapping every fold of her. She felt as if she were a precious object that he was gently exploring. She wanted to speak. There was so much that had to be said but the mood and his presence filled her.

“We have forgotten to talk of boats.” She said dreamily at last, looking into his eyes which were as warm as his touch. He closed his eyes slowly and she watched the sweep of his long lashes.

“You look - no- you are- so beautiful.” He said softly.

She felt a surge of feeling that rippled upwards through her body in waves. She reached out and touched his scarred brow as if to take away the reality of it and of his violent life. And then - then he tilted up his chin and pushed a nuzzling kiss into the palm of her hand. Something beyond desire or anything she recognized as human both filled and drained her, leaving her motionless.

“Merci.” He whispered.

“Pourquoi?

“Pour ta tendresse.”

She was about to ask him what he meant but being with him had no meanings. Meanings were what had happened in her life before Freddie.

They had stopped in Chelsea, just off Sloane Square. The driver came round and opened the door. They stepped out, hand in hand. Two camera flashes startled her.

“Just a couple of paps - they have their job to do and anyway... I am not supposed to be with anyone else.” He commented casually.

Anna dragged her mind back to the present. Paparazzi - she did not want her picture in the papers. She brushed aside her anxiety. Nothing was going to interfere with these few stolen hours.

They were outside a restaurant “La Galerie” which was clearly exclusive. A waiter opened the door as they entered.

“I hope you like it here. If not there is no one else to blame.” He smiled.

“You own it?”

“Well, you know, Ma mère - she saw it as an investment.”

They took a secluded reserved table. The walls were decorated with fabulous paintings, everything from classical to cubist. He picked up on her interest.

“Only a few are originals - I commission copies of works I admire.”

Above them hung a full size copy of a Bronzino that she knew from the National Gallery. Venus was stealing Cupid’s arrow because of his wayward aim. Father Time was pulling back the curtain of Truth. She felt like a diver on the high board. She had to jump…

“Freddie - I know who you are now. When we met we did not know anything of each other and...”

“And it was so beautiful. It was the same for me. Now I know you only want to sell me a boat...” He joked.

“No. No,” she insisted, “you know it is not like that, it’s just that...”

“I’m a brute... you have discovered how I live.”

“I never said that - I don’t care about that.”

“Things have gone that way Anna. Maybe I would change it but I live with it you know. Shall we eat?”

His tone had hardened and she felt that he had withdrawn from her. There was some place in his soul where she could not go and anyway, there was nowhere to go after tonight.

“Are you eating garlic?” He asked with a smile, “In case... ”

“Are you expecting a kiss?” She said, feeling her heart leap.

“I do not presume... ”

“You may presume Monsieur,” she whispered, “and yes - I want garlic and hot spice.”

He ordered champagne - Veuve La Salle from his own vineyard. The superb meal - carpaccio of venison with truffle sauce, roasted salmon with rose petal harissa, white chocolate panna cotta with blackberry coulis - blended with his presence. She floated in time, watching his powerful hands, the strength of his neck and shoulders beneath his jacket. His movements were light and graceful but hinting at a restrained physical danger. They left aside talk of boxing or boats. They chatted about art, often in French. More and more they fell in step. As she lifted her knife, so did he. When she looked up at his face, she found his gaze coming up to meet hers. Somehow they were entwining without touch, following a choreography laid down in time for lovers.

He was proud of his Michelin star and had a good knowledge of food and fine wine.

“My mother is a brilliant woman - she deals with the business side of things.” He told her.

“And your father?” She asked.

He hesitated a little.

“Well, it wasn’t a perfect match - he is a poor university teacher you know, but he never...”

“Never?” She prompted.

“Never wanted a boxer for a son. He is a serious poet, what you call an intellectual.”

“Not even with your fame and success?”

“Especially not those things.” He said sadly.

She reached across the table for his hand. He returned her squeeze.

“Too bad,” he shrugged, “I cannot say that my mother wanted it - but it has brought so many things - obviously money, respect and freedom.”

Once again the weight of her big lie sat like a stone in her heart. He was talking so openly about his life and she could not return the same. She would tell him now!

The message alert of her mobile dragged her attention away. She apologized and pulled it out of her bag. It was a short report from the London bureau of Interpol. “Note your interest in La Salle. Asian sources report huge money going on Brennan to win. Looks like something is cooking up around this fight. Have a nice week-end.”

Inwardly she nailed down her responses. She looked at him, wondering what he knew. Her best way of finding out was to hang in there - but how could she? Why didn’t she simply ask him? He was looking at her with a slightly raised questioning eyebrow.

“The boat business - or something romantic?” He probed.

“No, of course nothing like that. It’s my father.”

“Ah, you have arranged the sea trial.”

“Yes”, she lied, slipping further down the slope of deceit, but grateful to get off the ropes.

“When could you be available?”

“I am in France all week and then I must fly to California for training.”

“Isn’t the fight in New York?”

“Yes, but my mother is in Monterey.” He said, nodding ruefully.

“So, I will fix a day at the end of the week and call you.”

“OK,” he beamed, “so we will meet again.”

“We have not said Good night,” she replied with a knowing glance.

He grinned. Small wrinkles were beginning to deepen at the corners of his eyes. Looking at him left her melted. She tried to focus on the significance of the message. Freddie was on the radar of her enquiry. Inspecteur Du Maurier had logged her interest in his file and now she was professionally linked to him. If she had to investigate him she could hardly do it as his lover. She couldn’t trick her way into his heart or compromise her career by having an affair with a suspect. She ought to tell him and leave - but lose the chance of a major advance in the case. She could work to show his innocence just as well as his guilt.

“We could go dancing.” He suggested tenderly.

She looked back into his eyes.

“Can’t I keep you just to myself?” She replied, realizing she was being blatant and shameless. Despite herself she was slipping further and further beyond an invisible line. He still didn’t know where she lived. She could change her mobile number in the morning. Like a fool she had told him she sold boats and was linked to Leyton Marine. She could never have known that her work would involve him. In the back of her mind she realized that he was in danger both from crooks and in the ring. Now she had lied about the message from her father and was committed to a sea trial on a Nereus 74 in a week’s time.

She swallowed the last of her wine and with it everything that swirled around her. She - they - had tonight and if there were never another night in the world, she had until morning to fulfill something she knew was her destiny.

She watched the other diners, wondering how their affairs intertwined. There would be few with such a complex lives. He took her hand across the table. His touch thrilled and electrified her body, merging her emotions with a physical longing.

“I saw you and the world was a different place.” He said in a slow deliberate deep tone.

Her eyes were locked with his, both of them searching within the other for understanding.

“You think I am trying it on - I cannot blame you.”

She wanted to say that she did not care. She was bursting and fought to control her breathing.

“It does seem pathetic to say that we don’t know each other. It seems like we do- but how can we?” She sighed helplessly.

“So our project is to discover each other... it may last a long long time.” He replied.

Inwardly she winced. He was right and the poor guy was being deceived.

“I do not want this night ever to end Freddie - can I tell you that and hope you’ll understand?” She urged softly, hoping that one day in the future he might untangle her meaning.

“Then we need not end it. We can be our own island... and all those ships can sail by. I won’t wave or light a fire if you don’t.”

It was not fair. He was so beautiful.

“Freddie - I have a small place. We could be- we could be together until the world sweeps us up again.” She said, searching his eyes.

“A strange man in your home - you will not be afraid?”

She caught his train of thought. He really was a gentleman. She knew that she was going absolutely for broke, taking all manner of risks. The moment she had touched his brow in the car and had felt his lips kiss the palm of her hand, she knew that her life had changed and would never be the same.

“Something brought us together Freddie.”

He nodded agreement and stroked the inside of her wrist.

“And you are going to say that you should not... ” He began.

“Should not sleep with a man I’ve only just met.” She added into his silence.

He looked up and let out a sigh.

“I feel we knew each other since always and our bodies might just be catching up.” He said with a shrug.

A few minutes later they settled back into the limo. The evening had turned to night yet the city was vibrant with sound and lights.

“London is so beautiful.” She said, taking the chance to normalize the situation with a shred of small talk.

Freddie opened the partition and spoke to the driver. The car pushed on to Parliament Square and pulled over on Westminster Bridge.

“We have a moment to look at your beautiful city.” He said.

They stepped out. He put an arm around her shoulder as they looked downstream towards the City and Charing Cross. She felt his strength and power. Lights danced in the river. He turned her to face him. She ran her hand down his shoulder and arm feeling the round contour of his hard muscle. He pulled her against his strong body. She felt his hand move to her cheek. She watched his face as his fingers gently traced the shape of her lips. Just as she could bear it no more he raised her chin and kissed her with a melting softness. He held her lower lip in his, gently brushing it with the tip of his tongue. His powerful hand caressed her cheek with an impossible tenderness. This was the kiss - the kiss that made her whole and that she had always known was there but had been missing from the pattern of the universe. She felt exhilarated and calmed by a feeling of harmony.

Beneath his clothing she could feel that she had aroused him and let the core of her own pleasure press against his sculpted muscular thigh. The world slipped away as two lovers kissed on a bridge at the heart of the great city. Still caressing her cheek, his lips traced the line of her delicate nose and kissed the closed lids of her eyes with such gentle passion that she groaned. He caught the sound and with his own shuddering sigh began to nibble her neck and pull her more tightly against him. She felt her legs almost buckle and let herself press helplessly against him, even more aware of his strength. He was a rock, yet a living loving rock that could give and receive love. She pushed the L word away. Love was a weight that this fragile moment could not yet carry.