Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(22)

‘You said that you were on the way out.’

‘I’m nipping back to the school for parents’ evening. I should be finished by five-thirty and then I’m going straight over to Didi’s to help her.’

‘Help her with what?’

‘Oh, just the meal.’

Pierre groaned under his breath.

‘I know, I know,’ Georgie said hurriedly. ‘But you wouldn’t believe how bright-eyed and bushy-tailed she is, Pierre! Look, I have to dash. I’ll see you later!’

Pierre heard, in amazement, the sound of dial tone as she hung up on him, and he disconnected his cell phone with a sharp frown of displeasure.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

He thought of her, riding that bike of hers to the village, even though the roads would be dark and treacherous because the temperatures were dropping fast. Maybe she would opt for the clapped-out old Mini instead, which, if memory served him correctly, had always protested with indignation every time it was called upon to do what it had been designed for. It was not a restful image. Nothing about the woman was restful and Pierre liked the company of restful women, women who didn’t raise his blood pressure and make his head throb. He thought of Jennifer, calm, sophisticated, controlled, and immediately shoved the image out of his head because she was no longer on the scene anyway. He had finished with her two days ago over a snatched cup of coffee in a café halfway between his office and hers. Not ideal, but better than the telephone or, worse, text, which had almost been the route given that neither of them could spare the time. She had been shaken but her voice had been controlled as she had asked him crisply for the reasons for the break-up.

Naturally he hadn’t told her the truth. It had seemed just too long-winded and complicated at the time and, anyway, she would have choked on her cappuccino.

He had been surprised that the break-up had not affected him the way he had anticipated. He had enjoyed her company, after all. Had even, at one point, idly contemplated her credentials for becoming a permanent feature in his life. He had expected to feel more than a vague, shameful sense of relief that perhaps she might have been a long-term disaster.

The journey was long, tedious and, in the developing dark and cold, required a lot of concentration, but still he didn’t regret leaving his driver behind. Even the most conscientious of employees were prey to curiosity and the fewer people knew about the charade, the easier it would be to slip back into his disciplined, well oiled way of life.

It was a little after eight by the time he eventually made it to his mother’s house, which sat a short distance from the village, up a picturesque path bordered with tall trees, which, in summer, were spectacular but in winter resembled long, graceful hands reaching up to the sky. Up ahead, he could see lights on and he steeled himself for the ordeal ahead.

She must have heard the sound of tyres on the gravel because the front door was flung open before the car had come to a stop and he saw his mother framed in the doorway, wearing dark, casual clothes, with a wrap round her shoulders.

She was smiling.

‘Didi…’ he said, coming towards her, his overnight bag in one hand, his computer case in the other. He leant down and kissed her on the forehead and was startled when she pulled him close to her for a hug. Then she stood back from him, her hands still on his shoulders, and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

‘I’m so glad you’re here, Pierre!’

‘Don’t act so surprised, Didi. I did tell you that I would be coming for the weekend.’ Or rather, she had told him that he would be coming for the weekend.

‘I thought you might have cancelled. You’ve been known to do that, but I guess there’s more than just me here to attract you!’

Pierre grinned a little weakly. Georgie had been right on one score. His mother was glittering like a shiny bauble on a Christmas tree, utterly radiant.

‘I suppose you’re dying to see Georgie…she popped over a bit earlier to help but then went back to her place to change…said she felt a little grubby after parents’ evening…probably wanted to slip into something a little less starchy for your benefit…’ She drew him inside. ‘I can’t believe the pair of you kept this tucked up your sleeve for eight months!’

‘Ah…’ Pierre managed.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

‘Eight months! Now, I’m not going to pry or ask too many questions. I know you young people prefer to have your little secrets.’

‘No truer word spoken,’ Pierre murmured, thinking of the little secret he and his so-called beloved were sharing.