He nodded, his eyes alight with possibilities.
‘Yes, it was, wasn’t it? I will definitely be sponsoring that young man’s career. And hers, if she wants to repeat the experience. Amazing presence. So … are you saying …?’
‘If you could write me in somehow …’
He laughed.
‘Go and get something skimpy on. I’ll see you down here in ten minutes.’
A sheepish Rosie and Dimitri were just emerging from their room when I hurried up the stairs to change, my heart thundering with the enormity of what I had just let myself in for.
‘You don’t wait for us?’ said Dimitri. ‘We are not in the next scene.’ He passed a hand through ravaged hair, his eyes now sleepy and dim.
‘No, but you’re going to be needed for the cameras,’ I told them.
‘Both of us?’ Rosie blinked, mid-yawn.
‘Er, yes. Sorry, can’t hang around. Got to get changed.’
I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make a decision. I stared unseeingly at the wealth of sexy frou-frou in the closet until my eyes alighted on the bodystocking Jasper had had me wear at our first dinner together.
I snatched it from its hanger and let the length of elasticated lace pass from one hand to another, recalling that evening. I had walked straight into Jasper’s clutches, had hardly stopped to think that it might not be the right thing to do. The wearing of this bodystocking had implied a commitment from the start. It had told Jasper everything he needed to know about my willingness to be his.
He knew. He already knew.
And he knew that my procrastination about taking our relationship to a more secure level was just nerves.
He knew I’d be his for ever. That was why he seemed so calm about all my fluster and bluster.
I climbed slowly into the bodystocking, the realisation blooming bigger and brighter as I pulled it up my legs and over my hips.
I was his, I wanted to be his, and I would always be his.
Why deny it?
In the mirror, I looked obscene, and also vulnerable. My exposed parts were supposed to make me look brazen, but I felt like a virgin, about to present myself on some kind of sacrificial altar. It was all up with me. Any alternative reality of leaving Jasper and tucking myself away in obscure museums was officially off the cards.
Descending the grand staircase, looking as if my body had been painted in extravagant black curls by an artist who had forgotten to cover my breasts, bottom and sex, was like entering deep water. I was going down, covering my head, out of my depth.
I was greeted by applause and a wolf-whistle from Dimitri.
‘Oh, my God, Sarah,’ cried Rosie,
now curled up with her lover on a chaise-longue, necking champagne. ‘You are incredible. I’m so proud of you, girl!’
You’re so drunk, I thought, but I didn’t say it. I was far too nervous. I couldn’t lift my head or look anyone in the eye. All I could do was pick my path over to Jasper, who reached for me and pulled me into his arms, holding me safe from all those hungry eyes.
‘Oh, I remember this little thing,’ he said, tugging at the elastic above my bottom before resting his hand on my bared curves. ‘And I remember the little thing inside it too. So scared and unsure, but so brave too. Determined to prove herself to me. I don’t think that’s changed, has it?’
I shook my head against his chest. He had put on his best suit and it smelled of power and authority. I felt the familiar swoon.
‘You’ve proved yourself to me,’ I said, keeping my voice soft and low. ‘It’s only fair.’
‘Have I? Proved myself to you?’
‘Over and over.’ I looked up at him. ‘I should never have doubted you. I want you to know that I don’t, not any more.’
A flicker of joy lit his face. He knew what I meant.