The next time Angelica looked at her watch it was eleven o’clock. The world stood still as her stomach plummeted. She had waited so long for this moment, but now that it was here she shied away, like a pony at too high a jump. She paled and drained her champagne glass, driven by the sense of inevitability that had propelled her through her day. Without a word to anyone she got up and slipped out into the hall. A waitress retrieved her coat, and she wrapped it tightly around her as she stepped out into the cold. It was crisp and clear outside, the sky studded with stars; at the end of the street a taxi waited beneath a bright lamp.
Angelica walked towards it, her steps accelerating, tap-tapping over the pavement. She could see him through the back window, silhouetted against the light of the lamp, and her heart inflated like one of Kate’s silver balloons. She reached the cab, and the door flung open. Glancing back to make sure she wasn’t being watched, she climbed in. Jack didn’t wait to ask permission. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers hungrily. Angelica wasn’t surprised or horrified that he had broken his word; his kiss felt like home.
The old cabbie looked in his rearview mirror and grinned. If he wrote about everything he’d seen going on in the back of his taxi, he’d have a best seller to boast of. The trouble was, he could barely manage to write a shopping list, let alone an entire book. He shook his head regretfully and pulled out into the street.
Jack’s mouth was warm and soft, his chin rough against hers, his embrace the firm hold of a man reluctant to let her go. He slipped his hand beneath her coat, and she felt the heat in it up and down her dress. She yearned for him to touch her skin, to feel his fingers caress her dark and secret places, and her desire made her forget herself. He kissed her neck and throat, sending an exquisite tremor through her body, and she let out a deep moan, pressing herself against him.
As the taxi swung around corners and stopped at traffic lights, Jack and Angelica clung to each other, savoring the magic, aware that tomorrow a plane would take him away to the other side of the world.
The taxi drew up outside Number 11 Cadogan Gardens, and Jack climbed out. The sight of the hotel and the rush of cold air as he opened the door brought her to her senses. She shrank back into the seat in terror. “I can’t . . .” she faltered. He leaned in and reached for her hand. But she shook her head and looked away, embarrassed. “You know I can’t.”
He said something to the cabbie, but Angelica couldn’t hear for the ringing in her ears. For a dreadful moment she thought he was telling the man to take her home, that he was going to walk away in displeasure, but he climbed in beside her, closed the door, and drew her back into his arms, kissing her temple and nuzzling her cheek.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “I shouldn’t have presumed. I couldn’t help myself. Forgive me.” She lay against him, relieved that he didn’t think less of her. “I have all these good intentions when I’m not with you, then the minute I see you I just want to carry you upstairs and make love to you.”
She lifted her face. “I can’t go home to Olivier smelling of you. What will he think if I turn up in the early hours of the morning? I’m the kind of girl who’s in bed by eleven.”
“You don’t have to explain. I’ll take you home. But not before I’ve kissed you again. Just drive, cabbie. Anywhere you like.”
• • •
The taxi drove around Bayswater and Notting Hill, while Jack and Angelica sat entwined in the backseat, nuzzling and kissing each other like young lovers. It was past midnight when it rattled up Kensington Church Street and into Brunswick Gardens.
“So, it’s good-bye, Sage.” He took her face in his hand, and she pressed her cheek against it. It had all happened so quickly. A few meetings, a dozen e-mails, and now a brief taxi ride, and yet they felt there had never been a time when they hadn’t known each other. His eyes were sad as they swept over her features, as if this was the last opportunity he’d ever have to feast on them. His sentimentality moved her, and she turned her head to kiss his palm. “I’m already missing you,” he murmured. “Let me memorize every feature so I know you by heart.”
“Come back soon,” she whispered, fighting back tears.
“You come to South Africa. I’ll take you up to Lowry’s Pass, and we’ll drink wine and watch the sunset. There’s no place more romantic. I’ll hold you until the last flicker of light disappears behind the hills.”
“Oh, Jack. If only . . .” She felt her throat constrict.