Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(28)

His eyes strayed down and he lay back flat, staring upwards at the ceiling.

He hadn’t asked for this but things had certainly changed since undertaking the pretence. His mother had never been so open with him before. Holidays spent as a youngster had been largely lonely affairs until he was old enough to start inviting friends to stay and he wondered whether he had gradually built up a wall of resentment when in fact it hadn’t been a question of love, simply a question of his parents working all hours on the farm. Had they tried to include him? He couldn’t remember. He could only remember growing up with a strong sense of disapproval of the fruitless road along which they had chosen to travel.

He wasn’t much given to introspection, but it occurred to him that many a worthwhile relationship floundered through lack of communication and, really, by the time he could effectively communicate with his parents on an adult level, they had probably only seen a man with little to say that was encouraging or optimistic.

He could distinctly remember lecturing to them about the futility of sinking money into a niche farming market that would end up draining them of funds and advising them to go into property instead, which had naturally led to the tired old argument about capitalism. He had given up and thenceforth had learnt to skim the surface when it came to conversation, always slightly relieved when he returned to the gruelling demands of his life in the City.

And so the pattern had continued down the years. Until now.

He turned away from Georgie. Sleep came easily. He was tired. A long day driving, then an hour and a half spent on the computer before heading up to the bedroom. He would still be up at the crack of dawn because that just seemed to be how his body clock worked, but that was several hours away.

He woke when it was still dark to the very slightest of noises. More a sensation of movement than a noise, in actual fact, and was instantly awake.

Silhouetted in the doorway, and just a dark, slight figure, Georgie was creeping towards the bed, groping to feel the edge of the landmarks in the room that would stop her from tripping.

‘You can turn the lights on if you want,’ Pierre said dryly and Georgie let out a little squeak of shock.

‘What are you doing awake?’

Pierre switched on the lamp on his bedside table and followed her progress as she scuttled back under the duvet, all pink-faced, rumpled femininity.

‘You can turn the light off now. I just had to use the bathroom. I’m going back to sleep.’ Georgie turned pointedly onto her side and yanked the duvet as high up as it could go without her toes protruding at the bottom.

‘I’m a very light sleeper,’ Pierre answered her question even though it was clear that she wanted to feign sleep. He, on the other hand, felt fully awake and he knew why. It was nearly six, close to his natural waking-up time. ‘I think it’s because every holiday I would return from boarding school to the farm and could never quite manage to adjust to the sound of the animals. When you’re not used to sheep and owls it’s surprising how noisy they can seem.’ He noticed, with amusement, that she was still lying with her back to him and her body was rigid.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

He had not been looking forward to this long weekend. It was time he couldn’t spare from the demands of work and for a reason that was not of his doing. When he visited his mother, his trips were planned long in advance, giving him the appropriate time to rearrange his schedule.

However, he reluctantly had to admit that it was not the ordeal he had anticipated.

He certainly hadn’t anticipated ending the evening in bed with Georgie and, furthermore, if he was to be honest with himself, vaguely intrigued by her.

He had a sudden, sharp urge to surprise her out of her pointed silence, some mischievous desire that wasn’t at all like him.

‘I decided to break up with Jennifer…’ He dangled this personal snippet of information in front of her eyes and waited for her to respond. Which she did. She also rolled over so that she was now facing him and, even though he was staring upwards, his head resting on his linked hands, he was very much aware of her eyes on him.

‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Why? I told you it was nothing serious. No…I just thought that it would have been a little unfair to keep her dangling on a string while I passed the time with another woman.’

‘Hardly passing the time with another woman…’

‘No?’ He turned his head so that he was looking at her. It was still very dark in the room, no sign yet of a rising sun, but he was aware that she was very close to him. In fact, he could almost smell her and she smelt sweet, innocently sweet of fruity soap and recently washed hair. Not a hint of perfume, which he rather liked. ‘We’re sharing a bed, aren’t we? What would you call that?’