Mistress of Deception

'I dare say the prices here will reflect that,' Alan said ruefully, 'though the wine list surprises me. Quite reasonable, considering the quality.'

'You're not drinking any of it,' she pointed out.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a ironic half-smile. 'Drinking and going home to an empty bed are not compatible when I'm with you, my love.'

'Oh...' She flushed prettily, her cheeks going quite hot.

Alan frowned, but made no further comment. Silence befell the table. Ebony drank some more wine.

'What shall we talk about?' she asked once the starters had been served. Hers was smoked salmon, Alan's a hot-looking Thai curry.

His laugh carried a dry amusement. 'We're not used to talking much, are we?'

Her hurt look had him apologising.

'Right,' he went on, still with a wry expression on his face. 'Shall we discuss the economy, or the weather, or politics?'

'Tell me how your Man-About-Town stores are going,' she suggested. 'Have they been hit with the recession?'

He shrugged. 'To a degree. But all in all, the tough times have made us more productive and competitive. Once things pick up, we're going to do even better than before. Circumstances have forced me to find more efficient styles and suppliers, and more diverse markets. Would you believe I'm now exporting to Asian markets? That's like taking coals to Newcastle, I know, but there's a demand among wealthy Asians to wear imported garments rather than the locally made articles. Apparently, it's a matter of status. That's why I'm branching out into a designer label, to satisfy those who want to wear original and exclusive designs.'

'Alan, that's marvellous! But then you were always a clever businessman. I know a few women’s wear labels who could do with some more progressive thinkers.'

'Do you now?' he smiled.

'I certainly do.'

'Tell me, Ebony, do you like modelling?'

Her disgruntled sigh reflected her recent feelings on the subject. 'I used to, or at least I used to do it without thinking about it too much. It seemed an easy way to make money. And it's always pleasant wearing beautiful clothes. But I'd give it up tomorrow if I could make a living at something else.'

'Or if your husband asked you to?' he said quietly.

She stared at him for a few seconds before realising he was deadly serious. 'Of course,' she said, and could have sworn his whole body shuddered, as though he'd been holding himself very tightly. 'I told you, Alan. I want a large family. When we're married I want to have a baby straight away. If that's all right with you...'

'It's perfectly all right with me.'

His smile was so broad that Ebony almost burst into tears; she'd never felt so happy.

The rest of the meal was eaten in a light, happy mood. They chatted away as they'd never chatted before, sharing amusing incidents in their work lives, teasing each other's tastes in clothes, exchanging opinions on movies they'd seen and places they'd been.

Ebony had never felt so relaxed in Alan's company, yet as the evening drew to a close the desire to have him make love to her was incredibly strong. Maybe because she knew that this time it would be different. This time it would be really making love.

It was Alan, in the end, who pulled back, despite their goodnight kiss having reduced them both to panting, passion-filled messes. When Ebony tried to return to the haven of his arms, he forcibly took her hands and held them away from him.

'Let's see how long we can last,' he suggested huskily. 'Call it a game. A new game.'

Ebony cringed at his use of words. She didn't want there to be any kinds of games between them any more. This was for real, forever. 'And what if I don't like this new game?' she said unhappily.

'It won't last for long, I promise you. But please.. humour me in this, Ebony. It's important.'

'How is it important? If you love me and I love you, it's only natural that we'd want to make love. I don't understand you, Alan.'

'Might I remind you of what you yourself said at the beginning of the evening? You wanted to test my love by withholding sex. Maybe I want to do the same with you.'

Her black eyes widened. My God, he actually thought she was some sort of nymphomaniac!

Once again, her behaviour over the past year was coming back to haunt her. What could she do, except go along with him?