Topspin (16 page)

“I’ve been wanting to do that since we sat down at that bloody table and you started queening it over us all, looking so fucking cool and in control. Quite the social butterfly, aren’t you, Claire? But do you know what I was thinking?” She shook her head, reluctant to pursue the conversation but too caught up in the excitement to put a stop to it. “Yes, you do, because you were thinking it too. You were getting real hot in there. You wanted me.” He smiled at her, arrogantly confident. “And you still do. You wouldn’t really want to stop me.”

“I didn’t realize until today just how much of a bastard you actually are.”

“Thank you.” Rod dipped his head in an ironic salute. “Anyway, during that fucking awful dinner I was thinking about how you looked the last time I saw you, tied to the bed and begging Paul and me to fuck you harder. You weren’t quite so aloof then, were you, darling?” He chuckled. “It was a real turn-on, watching your performance tonight but knowing you for what you really are.”

“You disgust me,” she spat at him.

“Perhaps, but you’ll tolerate me because I know how to give you what you want.” He pressed a bulging erection against her stomach, grabbed one of her hands and placed it on it. “I’ve missed you, babe. When can I see you again?”

“I already told you. It’s over.” She tried to pull away but his hands gripped her forearms like a pair of vices.

“It’s over when I say it is and not before. Meet me at the apartment on Monday.”

“No! It was different when you were a stranger. But now I know about you and Angie.” She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s only dangerous if someone finds out.”

“And they will.”

“Only if I choose to tell them.”

“You wouldn’t!” But looking at his resolute expression, she suspected that if she continued to oppose him then he would. What had started out as a little discreet pleasure had turned into a deadly fight for domination. “Why? What satisfaction do you get out of forcing me?”

“Why?” He shrugged. “Because I haven’t finished playing with you yet, that’s why.” He dropped his head and kissed her, his lips brutal. “And I very much doubt if I’ll have to force you to spread your legs for me.” He winked at her. “Be there on Monday,” he said, abruptly releasing her and walking away.

It took Claire a moment to recover her composure and then she forced herself to retrace her steps. Her head was spinning. Would he really expose them if she didn’t show up at the apartment? He appeared determined to get Angela back and that was hardly the best way to go about it. Still, did she dare to call his bluff?

So immersed in thought was she that Claire didn’t notice Jack standing in the shade of the clubhouse terrace. Nor did she see him frown as he watched her adjusting her clothing just seconds after Angela’s husband had emerged from the same direction, doing exactly the same thing.

Chapter Seven

C
OLIN
P
ALMER
D
IDN’T
L
IKE
being made to feel foolish. Well, who did? But almost as soon as he’d set foot in the Porchfield Club he knew it was where he belonged. As far as he was concerned, the main committee was right to maintain standards that had little to do with playing ability. Keep bringing in the wealthy, exclude the riff-raff, and he’d soon make his mark where it mattered. Fate had handed him the perfect opportunity to feather his own nest and he didn’t believe in wasted opportunities.

It had been immediately obvious to Colin that the place was overdue for a shake-up, and what better way to show he was an innovative thinker than to be actively involved in that respect? The tennis committee was stuck in a time warp, unaware of the fast-moving concepts in the modern game that they ought to embrace. It made being exclusive a little pointless if the club couldn’t keep up with the opposition. Someone with greater vision than the current hierarchy possessed needed to step in and lead the way.

So Trina would have to go.

He would have been content to bide his time, feeling his way and making changes gradually. Jack was standing on the sidelines, watching his every move, waiting for him to step out of line, and Colin wasn’t prepared to take Jack on. Not again. But then Ed Brady had buttonholed him, highlighting all the things that were wrong with the club. Colin thought he was a whining idiot, until he produced professionally drawn up spreadsheets outlining how best to make the improvements and raise the cash to implement them. Almost all of his suggestions supported Colin’s first impressions. And his view that Trina had passed her sell-by date. Before he knew what was happening, he’d put his name to the EGM proposal assuming, wrongly as it turned out, that Ed had researched all the rules and was going about things the right way.

Colin didn’t like admitting to himself that his judgment had been clouded by his dislike for Jack. A dislike which had been given a new lease on life after the way he’d pushed him around on his first day here. But there could be no getting away from the fact that he’d made a stupid error in rushing to support Ed without thinking it through, mainly because he could sense that Ed had issues with Jack as well. Ed had unwittingly said the one thing guaranteed to secure Colin’s support when he’d assured him that Jack would resign rather than remain a member of a club that had Ed at its helm.

Except that they’d underestimated Jack and been left with egg on their respective faces. Colin knew him as a violent man, not a thinker, so he couldn’t be blamed for that. But Ed ought to have done his homework better. To be tripped up on a technicality was galling, to say the least. Colin sipped at a white wine spritzer and wallowed in his public humiliation, permitting his resentment to fester. He couldn’t afford to lose this position. Not so soon after he’d been all but thrown out of his previous club under a cloud of suspicion.

Ed had landed him well and truly in the mire. Not only had he made him look foolish, but he’d provided Jack with a great opportunity to put one over on him. He belatedly realized that since his first day at the club Jack hadn’t bothered him at all. Having threatened him in his usual thuggish way he’d then left him to get on with the coaching. He knew Jack possessed old fashioned values and considered his word to be his bond. Given the way he’d made his living in London it seemed rather incongruous, but there it was. And now all Colin had achieved was to upset a dangerous man who’d been content to leave him alone.

Temporarily alone at the bar, Colin thumped the wooden surface in frustration, but as the music started an idea occurred to him. Perhaps there was a way to recover from this mess after all. Dancing with as many of the influential lady members as possible would be as good a way as any to regain lost ground. He was a good dancer, enjoyed showing off, and had never been troubled by a guilty conscience when it came to sleeping his way out of trouble. Some of the men might now doubt his integrity, but he reckoned his magic would still work with the ladies. Smile, listen to every word they said with the appearance of rapt attention, a little flirtatious flattery, a few suggestive remarks, and they’d be eating out of his hand.

“Look, Colin, I’m sorry about the cock-up. I asked Stella to check that we weren’t infringing any other rules, but she obviously fucked up.”

Colin hadn’t heard Ed approaching and was in no mood to listen to his pathetic excuses. “You should have done it yourself,” he said. “It’s not Stella’s fault.”

“Yeah, well, women.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “What can I say? Probably the time of the month that’s fucked with her hormones. Anyway, we’ll just have to think of another way to get what we want. I don’t intend to give up.”

Colin had no intention of allying himself with Ed for a second time. “Now’s not the time to talk about it,” he said. “Ah, here’s Stella, the very girl. My dance, I believe.”

Colin swept Stella onto the impromptu dance floor and into his arms. Chris de Burgh was extolling the virtues of “Lady in Red” and Colin wondered if, in his haste to get away from Ed, he’d lost an opportunity. The lady treasurer was wearing red. She was a bit of an old trout, but Colin reckoned he could have brought her round if he’d danced with her and sang along at the same time. Women loved that sort of crap, and he didn’t imagine that anyone had been desperate enough to flirt with that particular female for years.

After Stella, he danced an energetic salsa with Angela, which earned them a muted round of applause. Just as their number came to an end, Claire Porterhouse wandered in from the terrace, looking pale, distracted, and utterly gorgeous. Colin enjoyed the married ones. They were always discreet, and their gratitude usually persuaded them toward generosity. Claire was easily the best looking of the lady members but, annoyingly, didn’t appear to have any interest in him. She was also close to Jack, and it would be useful to cultivate a friendly ear in that quarter. The music slowed and he caught hold of her hand, pulling her toward the floor.

“Come on, Claire, you can’t avoid me forever.”

“Why would I be avoiding you?” She fell into step with him with obvious reluctance.

“You probably blame me for what happened today.”

“Probably.”

Her disinterest fueled his determination to talk her round. “It really wasn’t personal, you know. But this club needs to bring itself up to date and the present committee are holding it back.”

“We seem to have done all right so far.”

Colin couldn’t understand it. She was barely listening to him and he was used to women hanging on his every word. “Yes, but don’t forget the club will be hosting that open tournament next season.”

“Thanks to Trina. She managed to attract the sponsors here in the first place.”

“That’s true. But since we’ll be the home club, we’ll want to give a good account of ourselves.”

“I thought it was all to do with the taking part rather than the winning,” she said, a trace of irony in her voice.

“Don’t you believe it!”

“Oh, Colin, does it really matter?” She sounded distinctly irritated. “We’ve got a nice friendly little club here. Or at least we did have before Ed started stirring it. We don’t need all this upheaval.”

“That’s what you think now, but just you wait until my new coaching methods start to bear fruit.”

“I won’t be able to sleep at night until I do.”

“Am I boring you?” he asked, aware that her attention once again wasn’t on him.

“Sorry, I was miles away. What were you saying?”

“I was thinking that perhaps I’ve got a few bridges to build after today and wanted your opinion on a scheme that’s just occurred to me.”

“Heaven knows why you’re interested in what I think.”

“You ought to be able to guess the answer to that one.” He pulled her a little closer.

“Haven’t a clue.”

A brief flash of interest broke through her guarded expression. He was flirting with her, and although she wasn’t exactly reciprocating, she wasn’t backing off either.

“It occurs to me that people need to see for themselves what first rate coaching facilities are available nowadays. Club players of all abilities can improve no end with one-to-one attention to their game.” He paused, waiting for her to fill the silence with the sort of flirtatious response the situation cried out for. When she didn’t oblige he forged on regardless. “At Bisham Abbey they have brilliant facilities, and I wonder if I shouldn’t arrange a residential course there for members, just to give them a taste of what’s achievable.”

“Bisham Abbey? Isn’t that where the national team trains?”

“Yeah. As well as tennis they have spa facilities, saunas, the works. It’s a great place to relax as well as play tennis.”

“I’m not sure they’d all be able to afford it. In spite of appearances, some of the members are on quite tight budgets.”

“They sometimes do weekend courses at reduced rates. I know some people there and reckon I could get us a good deal.” He looked directly at her, wondering if he’d met his match when his sexy smile made no discernible impression. “So, what do you think? Would it redeem me in the eyes of the members, do you suppose, and make them appreciate that I really do only have their best interests at heart?”

“I’m not so sure, but I guess it’s worth a try.”

“Great! I’ll look into it then.”

“You could do worse than consult Trina about it,” Claire said.

“Good idea, I’ll do that.” They danced a little more without speaking. “Will Joe be able to get away?”

Claire looked him straight in the eye. This time he definitely detected something more than friendly interest in her expression, even when she replied in the affirmative.