She relaxed into his embrace, leaning her head against his shoulder. She loved his smell, his touch. When she was in his arms, she felt she could do anything.
‘Why did you marry me?’ she said softly.
‘What?’ he exclaimed with evident surprise.
‘Answer the question,’ she said, turning to look into his eyes.
He took a moment to reply. ‘I chose you because you are kind and beautiful. And I asked you to marry me because I fell head over heels in love with you.’
‘Good answer.’ She smiled playfully, feeling completely reassured by his answer. ‘So no climbing mountains, okay? Forget busy – it’s dangerous.’
‘But what about Base Camp?’ asked Julian seriously. ‘It would be amazing, and we could take Charlie with us.’
‘He’s almost fourteen,’ scoffed Diana. ‘Next summer all he’s going to want to do is go to Ayia Napa with his friends.’
‘You underestimate our child, Di. I think it would do him good to go on an adventure.’
Our child. It had taken her a long time to think of Charlie as theirs, but Julian had never treated him as anything but his from day one. She thought of Patty’s words: Julian has his faults, but he’s a good one. He was a good one. Yes, there had certainly been dozens of reasons not to marry Julian Denver. Most of them were tall, leggy and blonde, like half the women she saw around Notting Hill. Diana knew there would always be women who would bat their eyelids and roll their hips, and she knew it would always be tempting for a man like Julian who liked sex, liked women and had the looks and money to attract them. Diana had been brought up to believe that men were unfaithful, and she had gone into their marriage knowing that there was always a risk that someone might get their long claws into her husband – that he might even welcome it. On that score, of course, she had been proven right, but they had got through it, pulled their marriage back to stable ground, because she believed that they loved one another.
‘I love you,’ she said quietly, voicing her thoughts out loud.
‘What’s brought this on?’ he said, lifting her chin. ‘I’ve been watching you all night, I thought you were having a good time. You sure you’re okay?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. And you?’
She’d known tonight was going to be hard. Julian had been quiet all week, and she’d wondered if he was anxious about the party, as she had been. But at least people had been discreet about their absence from the social circuit.
He nodded and pulled her closer. As she leant against his warm body, Diana felt a flicker of lust which was sudden and unexpected. The past eighteen months had almost extinguished their sex life, except for the solitary purpose of getting pregnant again. Two miscarriages and the horrible trauma of the stillbirth had not made her feel sexy. It had made her feel like a failure.
And yet tonight she felt a lick of desire, a flicker of promise.
Tonight she wanted to make love to him. Not just because she wanted his child, but because she wanted him.
She tilted her head and kissed him softly on the lips.
‘So are you coming to bed?’ she murmured.
‘You go up. I’ve got something to do first.’
She tried not to let her disappointment show. In her mind’s eye, she had seen him unzipping her dress right here in the doorway, peeling off her lingerie as he backed her into the dining room, finally pushing her back on the table, sweeping aside the imported silver . . .
‘Sure. But don’t be long, okay?’ she said.
As he walked into his study, he stopped, turned back.
‘I love you too,’ he said with feeling. ‘No matter what.’
The bedroom was warm after the garden, the deep white carpet soft between her toes as she kicked off her shoes and unpinned her hair. Catching a glimpse of herself in the dressing-table mirror, even she could admit how lovely she looked: petite and slim, with long dark hair that fell between her shoulder blades. She unclipped her brand-new Sabbia Rosa half-cup bra, which under any other circumstances would be just too lovely to take off.
For the first time in . . . well, a long time, Diana could feel the heat of desire spreading through her until even her fingertips were tingling. Peeling off her thong, she slipped into bed, turning off the bedside lamp, loving the feel of the crisp sheets on her skin, sliding her long legs back and forth. She felt so aroused, one hand slipped up to her breast, feeling the nipple rise to the touch.
Come on, Jules, she thought, imagining his strong arms around her, his lips on hers. Put down that bloody phone, come upstairs. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling warm and more relaxed than she had in ages. The last thing she thought was: maybe I shouldn’t have had that champagne.
When she woke, the bed next to her was empty. Julian? she thought sleepily, reaching out to touch his side. She opened her eyes, and wondered where he was. Perhaps he had gone to the bathroom to get a glass of water – he often got dehydrated after he’d been drinking – but no: the sheets on his side felt cold and unslept-in.
Diana closed her eyes, but she was unable to fall back to sleep. Inhaling sharply, she rolled on to her side and squinted at the small digital clock by the bed – part of some expensive but never-used Bose system Julian had installed last Christmas. 04:37.
Lifting her head towards the en suite, she saw there was no crack of light in the