Irresistible Temptation(22)

She was at her desk dealing with his mail just after eight-thirty each  morning, and she rarely left before six, sometimes staying much later.

As well as the series, he was preparing for the new Parliamentary  session, listing possible legislation, and those politicians who'd be  ready to attack or defend it.

'But that's mainly a stand-by agenda,' he'd told Olivia once. It's the  fighting behind the scenes that interests me most The issues they don't  want to be asked about So you offer the bait-then catch them  off-guard-get them to speak outside the official parameters-say things  they never intended.'

'Does that always work?' Olivia had asked doubtfully.

'No-it's like a game of chess. You have to be thinking at least three  moves ahead, while they try to block you, until someone runs out of  options.' He'd shaken his head 'When it works it makes compulsive  television.'

No, Olivia thought. It's you that makes it compulsive.

She'd been to the TV studios with him, and watched him in front of the  camera-seen how it loved him, felt the excitement, the sense of danger  he exuded. It had stirred the fine hairs on the nape of her neck and  sent a shiver tingling down her spine.

Because she was working hard, it left her little time to brood over Jeremy.

He'd come back from his golf tournament, full of beans about how well it  had gone, and the triumphant part he'd played in it all.

'This is going to do me no harm at all with the company,' he'd told her  smugly, before embarking on an exhaustive description of the hotel  they'd used as a base, and the amount of champagne that had been drunk  over the weekend.

She was pleased for him, naturally. After all, the success of his career  was vital for their future, as she constantly reminded herself.

But she still hadn't told him where she was working, or Declaims part in  it all, and with every day that passed it became more difficult.

It wasn't altogether her fault, she told herself a touch defensively.  She'd tried several times to mention her job, but Jeremy had brushed her  attempts aside with a brief, 'Good for you, sweetheart.' And eventually  she'd given up.

Nor could she say that the evening they'd spent visiting various  nightclubs had been unmitigated pleasure either. She liked to dance, but  Jeremy had seemed to prefer propping up the bar and pointing out  various celebrities, whose names, frankly, meant very little to her.

'Why did we come, if we're just going to stand about all night?' she'd asked him, tugged between amusement and exasperation.

'To be seen,' he'd told her, with total seriousness.

It had been almost a relief when she could plead an early meeting at work the following morning to cut the evening short.

But this weekend would be different, she told herself with  determination, because Jeremy had promised to spend her birthday doing  exactly what she wanted. He'd been full of extravagant ideas, she  remembered, smiling. Tickets for a top show officially sold out for  months ahead but obtainable through 'connections.' A table at the newest  and most fashionable restaurant-again like gold dust, he assured her.  Or he could arrange, through a client of his firm, a trip in a hot air  balloon, or a drive round a leading motor racing circuit in a Formula  One car.

But she'd managed to persuade him that she wanted none of these things.

'I'd like a really quiet day,' she'd coaxed him. 'I haven't been on the  river yet I thought we could go down to Greenwich-or to the Tower.'

'The Tower of London?' He'd given her a look of total incredulity. 'Whatever for?'

'Because I've never been,' she'd said patiently. She'd paused. 'And I've  started taking an interest in history again,' she'd added, with slight  awkwardness.

'But it's the kind of thing foreign tourists do,' he'd persisted sulkily.

She'd laughed, trying to win him round. 'OK, if it will make you feel  better, let's talk in French all the time we're there. And then I'll  cook you a special dinner back at the flat It'll be fun.'

They wouldn't be under scrutiny this time, she thought, with a flutter  of nervous excitement, because Sasha was spending the weekend with  friends in Richmond But she'd save that piece of information as her own  special surprise for him, because she wanted the evening to evolve  gently- naturally.

Jeremy had shrugged. 'Well-if that's what you want,' he'd said flatly. 'I just hope to God we don't see anyone I know.'                       
       
           



       

It hadn't been the response she'd hoped for, but when it came to it she  was sure he'd enter into the spirit of the thing. And on Sunday, she  planned happily, maybe she could persuade him to hire a couple of horses  and ride with her in the park.

At the same time she felt a little guilty, because she knew her family  were disappointed that she wasn't going home for the weekend.

But she needed to spend time with Jeremy, to recapture all the old ease  and understanding they'd enjoyed, and move the relationship on.

That, she thought, was the most important thing. Without the physical  commitment they were only leading half a life. It was no wonder there  were problems.

Perhaps when they finally belonged to each other they'd be closer  mentally and emotionally too. And there'd be no room for anyone else,  even in her thoughts and dreams.

When she returned from her lunch-break on Friday, most of which she'd  spent food-shopping for her birthday dinner, she found a cassette on her  desk from Declan, saying he'd be out for the rest of the day, and she  was free to go once she'd dealt with the material on the tape.

Brilliant, Olivia thought joyfully. She'd planned a menu that could be  prepared ahead anyway, and this would give her all the time she could  possibly need.

She sped through her work, grabbed her bag and fled, ignoring a spiteful  comment from Carol about switching to part-time working.

As she fitted her key into the lock there was a flurry of barking and  Humph joined her, his tail wagging furiously, followed closely by Sasha.

'You're early, darling.' She held out a yellow padded envelope. 'This  package came for you by messenger. Were you expecting something?'

Olivia smiled at her as she bent to stroke Humph, who was frisking round  her legs. 'No, but it's my birthday tomorrow. Maybe that's got  something to do with it'

'Oh, how exciting. I love birthday surprises. My beloved was so good at them.' Sasha clapped her hands. 'Do open it, darling.'

Laughing, Olivia obeyed, extracting a beribboned box of Belgian  chocolates, and a card bearing a reproduction of Van Gogh's Sunflowers.



Sweetheart,



Sorry I can't be with you tomorrow, but Tom's off sick and I'm being  sent to a conference in Edinburgh in his place. Just one of those  things, I guess. Have a wonderful time, anyway.



With love, Jeremy



'What beautiful chocolates,' Sasha enthused, then, her voice sharpening, 'Olivia, are you all right? You look quite ill.'

'No.' Olivia grabbed frantically at her control. 'I'm fine-really. I-I'd  made some plans, you see, which aren't going to happen after all. I'm a  bit disappointed.'

'You look totally shattered,' Sasha told her candidly. 'Let me make you some coffee with a lot of brandy in it.'

'I'm not ill,' Olivia assured her. She pinned on a smile. 'Just making a fuss about nothing.

'Hmm.' Sasha gave her a dubious look. 'Well, if you say so, of course.'

When the older woman had pattered back to her own premises, Olivia took  the lid off the dustbin and dropped the chocolates and the card inside,  following them up with the bags of food she'd chosen so happily.

Her eyes were burning and her throat hurt She should have agreed to the  balloon ascent, or the trendy restaurant, she thought bitterly. Then she  wouldn't be spending the weekend alone.

And how strange-and how telling-that she didn't believe Jeremy had been  forced into this conference at all. It was simply a useful excuse for  him to seize on.

And chocolates too-the world's most impersonal gift As if she was one of  his damned clients, instead of the girl he claimed to love.

She let herself into her flat and curled up in a corner of the sofa, arms wrapped round her body.

She could always go home, but her mother for one would want to know the  reason for her change of plan. She hadn't mentioned Jeremy by name, of  course, but they knew that a man was involved in her decision to stay in  London for her birthday, and had been clearly intrigued. So she did not  feel she could face the kindly but searching inquisition which would  follow if she arrived on the doorstep after all.

Besides, it might also seem a tacit suggestion that they were somehow second-best, and she would never hurt them like that.

No, if anyone had to be hurt, it must be herself alone, she thought, as anger and disillusionment twisted inside her.

And it was perhaps a good thing that she was growing used to her own  company, because it seemed, unhappily, as if she would be enjoying a lot  more of it in future.



Declan felt a touch of weariness as he let himself into the house. It  had been one hell of a week-for all kinds of reasons, he thought grimly.  He needed a shower, and a drink-and then he had some very hard thinking  to do.