The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane

it, he knew it. But this! She couldn’t take it in. It was too much. And what about all her fine intentions to cut this dead?

      ‘You want me to be your mistress,’ she said numbly.

      ‘Yes,’ he said, putting out an arm and indicating the apartment’s luscious interior. ‘I want you right here, with me.’

      ‘You want me on tap, whenever you feel the urge.’

      ‘That’s right. My mistress will want for nothing, Annie. Nothing at all.’

      ‘You’ve got a fucking nerve,’ she stammered. And now was the perfect time to tell him to piss off, she knew it. Again the tormenting sight of Ruthie’s face rose in her mind.

      ‘You already knew that. And you like it.’

      ‘No I fucking don’t.’ The cheek of him, storming back into her life and now trying to run it.

      ‘Come and see the bedroom.’

      ‘I saw it yesterday.’

      ‘Let me put that another way,’ said Max, bending and lifting her up into his arms. Annie shrieked in surprise. ‘Come and see the cunting bedroom, and shut your yap, okay?’

      ‘Bastard,’ said Annie.

      ‘Bitch,’ said Max, and walked through and dumped her on the bed, following her down on to it and stopping all further objections with his mouth on hers.

      Annie looked up and there, above the bed, was Kieron’s nude of her.

      ‘Good God,’ she said in shock.

      ‘Like it?’ asked Max, his eyes following hers.

      ‘It’s … okay.’ Max kissed her again. ‘I still hate you for this,’ muttered Annie when he let her up for air.

      But not as much as I hate myself.

      ‘Hate away,’ said Max, and started stripping off her clothes.

      ‘I married the wrong sister,’ said Max later as they lay naked and entwined in each other’s arms.

      Annie was almost asleep, she felt so relaxed. The sun was going down and the light in the apartment was dim. Annie thought she must have died and gone to heaven. How long had she dreamed of being like this with Max? Too long. But what he’d just said jolted her back to reality. He was her sister’s husband. She might fool herself that she was happy about this, but she knew it was still a mess of her own making.

      ‘Don’t say that,’ pleaded Annie, turning over, turning away from the truth.

      Max cuddled into her back, lying with her so that they were like spoons in a drawer. It was so nice. So right.

      ‘Sorry,’ he said, and kissed her neck. ‘It’s how I feel. It was you I wanted, but you were headstrong and I thought I didn’t want that in a wife. Ruthie’s more docile, softer. You’re a powerful woman, Annie. Like my dear old mum, come to think of it. I made the choice, and I chose wrong.’

      Annie screwed her eyes shut, disappearing into the dream again – her and Max, here together. Yet there was Ruthie, too, looking sad, betrayed, accusing.

      She snapped her eyes open. ‘You could change it. Get divorced.’

      ‘No I can’t.’

      His tone was so sharp that Annie turned her head to stare at him in surprise. ‘Why?’

      ‘Why?’ He drew away from her. ‘I would have thought that was pretty fucking obvious. I can’t be seen to screw up. Filing for divorce would be seen in my business as a weakness, a failure to keep my house in order.’

      Annie’s face clouded. ‘So this way you get the best of both worlds,’ she said. ‘You get the respectability of having a wife, and all your mates think you’re a great big man because you’ve got a mistress set up in a fancy apartment.’

      ‘It’s the way it works,’ said Max.

      ‘What if I say no?’

      ‘You’ve already said yes. Four times.’

      Annie thumped his chest and coloured up. He knew exactly how to please her during sex, they both knew that. ‘You know what I mean.’

      ‘How the fuck can you blush when you’ve been running a cathouse?’ Max was smoothing his hands down over her back, making her shiver. But there was something she had to say and she was going to say it.

      ‘That isn’t going to change,’ said Annie.

      It was Max’s turn to look surprised. ‘You’re having a laugh.’

      ‘No, I’m not. Celia wanted me to sort it and I’m going to carry on doing that.’

      Celia. She hadn’t thought about her in a while, with her coiffed hair and her bright brown eyes and her ridiculous ivory ciggie holder, giving herself funny little airs and graces. She loved Celia for her kindness and her warmth. Missed her too. Annie frowned.

      ‘Max,’ she said.

      ‘Mm?’ He was looking thunderous at what she’d just said.

      ‘Did you hurt Celia?’

      Max stiffened. ‘Why do you ask that?’

      ‘Because she went so suddenly,’ said Annie. She took a breath. ‘Soon after Eddie … you know. She was frightened because it happened in her house and you knew about it.’

      ‘I didn’t hurt her,’ said Max.

      Annie breathed again. ‘Good.’

      ‘And I don’t want you living there any more.’

      Annie stared at him. ‘We can’t all get what we want, Max,’ she said.

      Max drew closer to her. They were staring eye to eye.

      ‘Some of us can,’ said Max. ‘Some of us always do.’

      ‘Not this time.’

      ‘I don’t want you doing it. End of.’

      ‘I’m going to do it. End of.’

      ‘No you’re fucking not.’

      ‘Yes I am.’

      ‘For your own safety.’

      ‘Not to save you embarrassment among your mates?’ Annie arched a brow.

      ‘All right, both. It can’t go on, Annie. See sense.’

      Annie gave it some thought. ‘Max, it’s something I have to do,’ she said at last.

      ‘No,’ said Max. ‘It isn’t. Put a manager in.’

      Annie gave it some more thought. A manager – now why hadn’t she thought of that? She reviewed her troops. Ellie was in the Delaneys’ pocket. A nice enough girl, but an arse-licker, as Celia had called her more than once in the course of conversation. Too eager to please and not to be trusted too far. Aretha was too bent in the head to be relied upon. Which left Dolly and Darren. Dolly! What a case. Always kicking against Annie’s authority. She got on Annie’s bloody nerves, and that was a fact. Annie knew Darren would do a good job; she often left him in charge now when she had to nip out.

      ‘I’ll think about it,’ said Annie.

      ‘Make sure you do.’

      Annie looked around at the bedroom, suddenly feeling as happy as a child at Christmas. ‘Christ, how do they get the dust down off these ceilings? They’re a mile high.’

      ‘Not your problem,’ said Max. ‘I’ve arranged for a cleaner.’

      ‘You’ve arranged everything,’ said Annie, linking her arms around his neck and kissing him. ‘It’s perfect.’

      ‘Not mad any more?’