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CHAPTER 4
15.00hrs, Manor House Estate, Nettleacre,
UK.
Loathing
the boring pompous functions she had to endure, which was the downside to
raising monies for charity, she scanned the ballroom full of screechy hooray
Henrys and Henriettas, wondering how quickly she could politely get out of
there.
Then she
spotted him across room.
A tall
dark handsome scruffy-haired male in expensive tuxedo, open necked dress shirt,
and loose-hanging bow tie draped around his neck, leaning against a stone
pillar as if he owned the place… fuck!
With legs
crossed, hand in pocket, a near empty champagne flute resting thoughtfully on
his lower lip, his clever brown eyes peered over the rim of his glass and
stared directly at her.
She looked
over her shoulder to check it was her he was looking at. Yep, it was her… double
fuck!
That lower
part of her inner tummy leapt as he unashamedly took his time to scan her body
from top to toe… the cheeky sod!
But she
couldn’t look away.
She hadn’t
felt that twinge in a long time. It was a nice reminder that at fifty-something
she hadn’t lost the inner-smile flutter of hot chemistry.
She loved
men, she’d gotten through a few in her time, both good and bad. They used to be
the center of her universe, but if she was honest over the past decade it felt
like she’d grown up and out of them. They’d become hard work. She sensed a few
of her male friends felt the same way, and so they should, women could be a
nightmare.
Truth be
told, it was a bit sad. She wondered if she getting old, bored, or just peopled
out? But seeing Mister Tux proved that she may still be in the game.
Chemistry
was a powerful thing, and this guy had it by the bucket-load… what the hell,
who is he?
Nettleacre
was a small village, she knew everybody, so he must be new, a visitor, or
someone’s plus one.
She
scanned the guests milling around him. He was getting furtive glances from both
men and women, but he didn’t register any of them. He seemed to be alone.
He was
still staring at her, and from his narrowing eyes and dimpled half grin,
clearly thinking about sex… fuck!
And now,
so was she… fuck, fuck, fuck!
The same
grin crept over her face.
A nearby
couple stepped over to him, trying to start up conversation, she recognized
them as local swingers. But he ignored them. Keeping his eyes firmly on her,
tilting his head with an I’m-gonna-have-you stare.
The couple
gave up and turned away. The woman, clearly incensed, mouthed the word ‘rude’
to her partner.
Anna
decided to have some fun, she was leaving in a minute and would probably never
see him again… what the hell!
Brazen,
she turned and faced him full on, chest-out, feet apart, arms held out in
question, giving a do-you-like-what-you-see raised eyebrow.
He caught
the challenge and nodded, holding his open hand up in front of him, twisting it
backwards and forwards, scrunching his face with a meh-you’re-okay-I-guess
reply.
They both
laughed.
She liked
his smile.
She bit
her bottom lip.
He bit
his.
She looked
away then looked back, so did he.
With a
what-are-we-going-to-do-about-this shrug, they stared at each other keeping eye
contact for way longer than was necessary. Each refusing to turn away, each
knowing what the other was thinking.
It was no
longer if, it was now where, when, how, what would it feel like? She sighed,
getting hot under the collar.
Guests
were beginning to notice them and started to watch the beautiful couple staring
at each other across a ballroom. They didn’t care.
He raised
beckoning fingers at her, mouthing the words ‘come here, now’.
Her heart
leapt.
She
thought about stubbornly mouthing ‘no, you come here,’ but couldn’t wait… fuck
it, life’s too short.
Just as
she stepped forward to join him, her shoulder was tapped from behind, ruining
the moment.
Annoyed at
the intrusion, she spun round to find the party’s host and owner of the Manor
House Estate, Lord Hughie Taggard, fawning over her… ugh!
Hiding her
irritation, it took all she could muster to smile at him. Mister Tuxedo’s
fawning was sexy, Taggard’s was creepy.
She’d
known Taggard since she’d moved into the village, he’d always flirted with her,
no matter how clearly she’d let him know she wasn’t interested. The thought of
him touching her made her retch. What was it about money that turned the folk
into entitled pigs?
She let him use her B celebrity fame to help
him raise money for his charities, not out of the kindness of her heart, but
because he was blackmailing her.
‘Hughie,’
she beamed with more delight than she felt.
The man
was a bore, if it weren’t for his cash and power, he and his yellow teeth would
be alone at his dull networking parties.
Knowing
that the two of them were being watched, she played to the crowd.
‘It was
good of you to invite me to your little tea party. Raising funds for the local
children’s school, how kind of you,’ she lied, giving him one of her aloof
smiles, whilst grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
‘But,’ she
lowered her voice for his ears only. ‘I know you, Hughie, you’re up to
something,’ she fake smiled. ‘You don’t do anything unless something’s in it
for you. What are you getting out of the charade this time, more money, a favor
from one of your council cronies? You make me sick.’
‘Ahh,
Anna, Anna,’ he leered, salaciously looking her up and down, appreciating the
gold lame dress that hugged her body in all the right places. His mind thinking
about what he’d like to do to her. Not his normal type, but she wasn’t in bad
nick for a women in her fifties, he might give her a whirl, if she’s lucky.
Sadly,
looking good for his age couldn’t be said of him, depraved habits tend to age
badly.
‘Ever to
the point as per usual,’ he pouted. ‘Never any time for foreplay. But I must
say, dear, you’re looking very Marylin Monroe’esque this afternoon. Are you
going to sing happy birthday to me?’
‘It isn’t
your birthday, Hughie,’ she sighed.
‘No, dear,
sadly,’ his eyes unashamedly following the line of her cleavage.
She gave a
bored sigh and wriggled agitated fingers under his chin signaling for him to
look up at her face.
‘Really?’
she groaned. ‘Do you have to be such a sad cliché? Do you not understand that
ogling a birds tits is a turn off, not a turn on. It makes you look like a
snotty nosed kid that can’t keep it in his pants, never mind satisfy anyone,’
she cocked her head to the side and gave him a pitying look. ‘Jeez, try to have
a bit of class, Hughie, it’ll stop you having to pay for it, and may even get
you laid on your own merit for once.’
He ignored
her, looking around checking that no one could hear.
‘Now,
where were we?’ he muttered. ‘Oh yes, I just wanted to delight you with stories
of my latest diving expedit…’
She raised
a hand to stop him.
‘I’m
getting old,’ she interfukted. ‘Life’s too short for small talk, you’re clearly
not going to tell me what you’re up to. So I’m off. These stilettos are way too
high to endure more than is necessary, even for you. I’ve done my
meet-and-greet duty, time to go.’
She
glanced back over her shoulder searching for Mister Tux. She’d much rather be
talking to him, but he’d disappeared.
‘Leaving
so soon,’ Taggard whimpered. ‘But we have the paps here, dear, you have
obligations.’
‘I dealt
with the press on the way in, they have more than enough pictures of me and
your guests,’ she sighed sipping her drink, still scanning the room.
She
spotted Mister Tux walking leisurely towards the entrance, leaving a wave of
guests turning to stare, wondering who the handsome newcomer was.
‘Well,
before you go, dear,’ Taggard lowed his voice. ‘There’s a little something I
need to remind you of, in private, dear.’
He grabbed
her elbow and pulled her aside, forcibly directing her to nearby French windows
guarded by two security guards. As they noticed his approach they opened the
doors allowing him to step out onto the magnificent private terrace that
overlooked his estate.
Following,
she stopped for a moment, hovering, looking back for Mister Tux. Catching his
eye, she managed to give him a quick smile before being ushered through the
closing doors.
Taggard
guided her to the end wall, where they stood for a moment looking out over his
beautifully manicured lawns and onto Acre Woods. A fox sat staring at them from a rose-garden.
She sipped her drink, well used to his threatening
behavior, wishing he would hurry up.
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. Reminding
her of what she had to lose if she didn’t play nice. Insulting him in public
was not helping her cause.
Her face looked suitable chastised as she listened,
nodding in all the right places.
If she was ever going to kill someone, it would be him.
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