The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane

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Название The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4
Автор произведения Jessie Keane
Жанр Триллеры
Серия
Издательство Триллеры
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007525959



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okay,’ said Darren, watching her closely. ‘That’s one gorgeous man,’ he said.

      ‘That’s one very dangerous man,’ corrected Annie, going upstairs to get cleaned up. ‘Okay, Darren, let’s get this show on the road. Get the room straight.’

      She didn’t even notice that she’d dropped the flat details in there. Suddenly all her grand schemes didn’t seem very important at all. She wondered when he would call. If he would call. But then, she mustn’t answer the call if he did. Oh shit, she was in trouble, right up to her neck.

       31

      Max phoned next day. Chris took the call and handed her the receiver. Chris’s face was blank, not showing the disapproval she was sure he must be feeling. He was a Delaney man to his bones. The Carters were the enemy.

      ‘Hello?’ Be cool, she thought. Show him you can take it or leave it. But her hands were clammy and her face felt hot the instant she heard his voice.

      ‘I’m taking you out this afternoon,’ he said.

      ‘Oh, are you?’

      ‘Yes, I am.’

      ‘I might not be free,’ said Annie.

      ‘You will be.’

      ‘I’m pretty busy.’

      ‘Two o’clock. I’ll send the car.’

      And he put the phone down. Annie stared at the receiver for a moment and then replaced it on the cradle. Her heart was hammering. She was wet between the legs. I’m going mad, she thought. I’ve just made a date to meet my sister’s husband.

      Without a word to Chris she went through to the kitchen where the troops were enjoying their elevenses. Dolly put a mug of tea in front of her and took Chris’s through to him.

      ‘Thanks,’ she said, aware that they were all watching her. Darren must have told them about Max calling yesterday. They could see she was in a state of disarray. But no one said a thing about it, and she was grateful for that.

      ‘I thought I’d seen it all, but the punters always come up with a new one,’ Aretha was saying to Ellie and Darren. ‘You know that stockbroker chap, that Coogan?’

      ‘One of your best regulars,’ nodded Ellie, eyeing the biscuits. Annie had straightened her out with the biscuit habit, and she was svelte now, but she still hankered after the bloody things.

      ‘I took him upstairs and was going to strap him into the Punishment Chair as usual,’ said Aretha.

      The Punishment Chair had been yet another lucrative idea of Annie’s. It was set up in Aretha’s room to accommodate their more masochistic clients. It was an ordinary kitchen chair adapted with black paint, leather thongs and chains and straps. It was a big hit with certain gentlemen.

      ‘He likes that,’ said Darren.

      Dolly came back and sat down. ‘Men are weird,’ she chipped in. ‘What’s so great about having a woman beat the crap out of you?’

      Aretha shrugged. ‘Anyway, there we were all ready to get down to business when he wanders off and starts looking in my wardrobe and fingering my gear. Then he says he’s always wanted to try on women’s clothes. Well honey, I says to him, if that’s what Massa wants, then that is what Massa is gonna get.’

      ‘We aim to please,’ said Darren.

      ‘Indeed we do,’ agreed Aretha. ‘We was havin’ us a real good time after that. He tryin’ on my best threads and gettin’ pretty excited about the whole thing. You know he usually has a little trouble in the excitement department.’

      They all nodded. The Right Hon. Philip Coogan needed a lot of stimulus to get it up.

      ‘But with my threads on?’ Aretha rolled her eyes. ‘Man, that boy was away. We on the bed, on the floor, on the chair, every damn where you care to mention. He just a natural born trannie, never admitted it to a living soul before.’

      That was the secret of sexual success, Annie knew. Find out what works for you, and go with it. Like Max worked for her, maybe. But should she really go there when her sister’s happiness was involved? But then – weren’t Ruthie and Max damn near living separate lives? Wasn’t the marriage as good as over even before it had started? And if that was the case, what difference would it make?

      Annie drank her tea and listened with half an ear as Aretha, Ellie, Dolly and Darren chatted in the warm and cosy kitchen. First Celia’s, and now it felt like hers. Her place, filled with her friends. They soothed her, just by being there. And she knew she was going to see Max again. But only to tell him it was all over, that she had weakened once but that it was a one-off and not to be repeated. She thought of Ruthie’s face, ashen with hurt on her wedding day, and knew it was the right decision.

      She didn’t know what she had expected from him, but she hadn’t expected this. Max’s driver was there at two o’clock and he’d taken her back to the apartment in Park Street that she had visited with Ellie just yesterday. The doorman let her in and told her that Mr Carter was waiting for her up in the penthouse. She took the lift up to the top floor and stepped out straight into Max’s arms. Before she could say a word he kissed her deeply. She gave in to it and kissed him back. It would be for the last time, after all.

      ‘Come on,’ he said against her mouth. ‘Something to show you.’

      ‘I’ve already seen it,’ said Annie in bewilderment as Max walked with her into the beautiful apartment. ‘I’m expanding the business to accommodate the Whitehall lot. I’ve rented this for six months.’

      ‘No you haven’t.’

      Annie turned to him. ‘Yes, I have.’

      Max shook his head. ‘You’ve been beaten to the bid, Annie love.’

      ‘Meaning what?’ demanded Annie.

      ‘Meaning I made an offer to your estate agent for a year’s rental and he told me what you’d offered and I upped it. He nearly snatched my hand off. When you get back to the house you’ll find he’s called to tell you the deal’s fallen through.’

      ‘But I wrote the cheque. Signed the contract.’

      ‘So he said. He took a bit of persuading.’

      ‘And tore up my contract.’

      ‘Correct.’

      ‘You really are a bastard,’ snapped Annie. ‘Why did you do that? I was so pleased with this place, I really love it. And why bring me back here? To rub my bloody face in it, I suppose.’

      Max had opened the French doors on to the balcony and was gazing out at the view. He turned and came back to her and took her in his arms.

      ‘Don’t touch me,’ said Annie, furious. ‘I hate you.’

      ‘You hate the man who just got this flat for you to live in, fully furnished and with porterage? You hate the man who’s liberating you from that knocking shop in Limehouse? The man who’s putting a car and a driver at your disposal, paying the fucking rent on this place, buying you anything you want?’

      Annie’s jaw dropped. For a moment she couldn’t speak at all, she was too shocked.

      ‘What?’ she said at last.

      Max grasped her arms and stared intently into her eyes from inches away.

      ‘I already said it yesterday, Annie Bailey. Weren’t you listening? I want you. You’re mine.’

      Annie pulled herself free of him. ‘I’m not anybody’s,’ she said hotly.

      ‘Wrong. You’re mine,’ said Max.

      ‘No.’