Tasmina Perry 3-Book Collection: Daddy’s Girls, Gold Diggers, Original Sin

She felt his behaviour do an about-turn as the curve of his mouth softened and he stroked her forearm with his fingertips. His old trick. Testing her, baiting her, infuriating her and then reeling her in at the last moment with a burst of controlled charm.

Relenting, she felt her body soften against him. ‘I just wish you’d make more of an effort with my friends, my colleagues.’

He slid his arm around the back of her neck and pulled her into him, planting a dry kiss on her forehead. ‘Sorry, darling, I’ve been a bit distracted. Work is hard. The Geneva office … but that’s no excuse.’ He pulled his hand up against her face and trailed his fingers down her cheek. ‘Why don’t we blow the party, check into a suite and not come out until the morning.’

The gesture took her by complete surprise. She recoiled inside, but tried not to stiffen in his grip. Not so long ago she would have given anything for Jonathon to inject some passion, spontaneity into their life, but now it all seemed too little too late. And she was certain that she could not face two hotel suites in the space of one day.

‘I think I have a headache coming on. I haven’t been feeling too well all day.’

Jonathon stared down at her with his piercing blue eyes and steered her away to the exit. Trying hard to rub out all thoughts of Jack Kidman, she looked up at him – her husband – and allowed him to take her hand.

‘A headache?’ said Jonathon with relish. ‘In that case, why don’t we say our goodbyes and go home?’

Cate retreated to the tiny third bedroom of the penthouse and tried to call Serena’s mobile. The party was buzzing with journalists, with a mob of paparazzi outside. Serena’s presence at the party would be great publicity for the magazine, but she had to admit that it was probably not a good idea for her to come after all. There was no answer. Where was she? Cate left her a message, when she heard the door of the room slide open and she turned to see David Goldman standing there. He looked razor sharp in a tailored iron-grey suit and a stark white shirt that showcased his tan.

‘Sorry,’ she laughed nervously, ‘I just came in here to take a couple of minutes’ time out. I’ll get back to the rampant socializing in a moment.’

‘Well, if you want to be alone, you really should shut the door,’ said David wolfishly, clicking the latch shut behind him. ‘Mind if I join you?’

‘Shouldn’t you be out there being all man about town?’ smiled Cate, accepting a flute of pink champagne from him. David shrugged. ‘The investors seem to be looking after themselves and Nick is off with Rebecca.’ Cate felt her heart sink momentarily.

‘So, the only other person I know here is you,’ he said, perching himself on the edge of the huge mahogany bed.

Her five-inch heels were killing her, so Cate shrugged and sat down next to David. He immediately moved up against her, the sleeve of his jacket lingering against her bare arm. She felt a rush of giddiness; she wasn’t quite sure whether it was down to the success of the party, the champagne or David’s proximity.

‘You really have done such a fantastic job. I’ve just been telling everyone what an impressive woman you are.’ He paused. ‘One of the most impressive women I’ve ever met in my life.’

Cate felt nerves jangle around her body. She had expected him to pounce as soon as he had locked the bedroom door, and suddenly she found herself thinking that that wasn’t such an unwelcome prospect after all.

‘Oh, I’m sure you make a habit of meeting impressive women,’ said Cate playfully, draining the last of her champagne and placing the flute on the carpet.

‘Are you making fun of me?’ smiled David, finally moving one hand to rest on Cate’s knee.

Cate’s head was starting to spin now, and she did not move away as he pushed a thick strand of hair off her shoulder, even though she could feel his clichéd seduction manipulating her senses.

‘How about a celebratory kiss?’ he whispered. His lips came down on hers. Although a warning bell shrieked on in some distant part of her brain, she found herself responding.

David threaded his hand through her hair, gently pushing her back on the bed. Part of her wanted to resist; the other part just wanted him to kiss her more deeply. They fell back on the fluffy cream duvet, David’s fingers lowering themselves down her neck to touch one of her nipples through the thin fluid fabric of the dress. She gasped and cupped his face with both hands pulling him into a deeper and deeper kiss.

‘What are we doing?’ she said, finally pulling herself up for air.

His hand slipped up the cream folds of her dress, and crept up to the top of her thigh. ‘Finally having some fun.’

‘At last!’ laughed Nick, throwing an arm around Tom Archer’s shoulders. Tom smiled back. He felt grateful to be with his old friend, enjoying the London social scene once more. It had been a long time since he had ventured into the city for a night out and he wanted to make the most of it. So, he hadn’t enjoyed waiting downstairs in the Fenchurch Suite, especially when someone in the next room had started playing music at enormous volume. But when Nick had called to say that it looked as if Serena wasn’t coming, he felt ready to join the fun, even if a small part of him had been looking forward to seeing her. He grabbed a drink and downed it in one.

‘So is it my turn to spend some time with the man of the moment?’ teased Tom.

‘I can’t help it if suddenly everyone wants to talk to me,’ said Nick with a broad smile. ‘Anyway, it’s taken thirty-five years for anyone to notice me, so let me enjoy my moment.’

‘So where’s Cate?’ asked Tom.

‘Dunno,’ said Nick, looking around the packed room once again. ‘I’ve hardly seen her in the last hour. It’s about time we shared a celebratory drink.’

‘Oh yes?’ said Tom playfully.

Nick prodded him in the ribs. ‘No, nothing like that.’

Tom wasn’t entirely convinced as Nick’s eyes continued to dart around the room looking for Cate.

‘Actually, I thought I should mention something,’ said Tom, taking his friend’s elbow and steering him to a corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. ‘I was talking to Marion Doherty; you know, she owns ILF model agency. I’m not sure tonight’s the right time to bring this up, but she told me something I think both you and Cate should hear.’

Nick looked at Tom, watching him shift uncomfortably and loosen his tie a little. ‘The woman was totally coked off her head, so I’m not sure how much to believe, but …’

Nick took a smoked-salmon roulade off a passing tray and waved it at his friend. ‘Go on,’ he urged.

‘Well, she obviously didn’t know that we were friends or that I was an investor in Sand, so there was probably no reason for her to lie.’ Tom paused and took a nervous sip of his second drink, finally looking Nick in the eye. ‘Look, I think you should have a word with your girlfriend,’ he said seriously.

Nick stuffed the canapé into his gaping mouth. ‘What do you mean? What’s happened?’

Tom looked away.

‘Go on, what? Tell me!’

‘According to Marion, you were supposed to be having Sybil Down – you know, the supermodel?– as your first cover. She’s one of Marion’s girls, right?’

‘Yes, that’s right, she pulled out at the last minute. That’s why Rebecca had to draft in Rachel Barnaby. All worked out for the best, as it happened.’

Tom looked at his friend awkwardly. ‘According to Marion, Rebecca phoned her, telling her that Sybil shouldn’t be working for Sand. Said that you were a tinpot organization and that you were going to fold as quickly as you launched. Made some veiled threat that, if Sybil did the job, she wouldn’t get an important job with one of her clients. Apparently now Marion’s seen the first issue, she thinks Sand is wonderful, but for a few weeks there, you were persona non grata at ILF, mate.’

Nick looked at Tom incredulously. ‘Why the hell would Rebecca do that?’

He let his eyes drift out towards the London skyline. It didn’t make sense. Why would Rebecca sabotage the Sand cover, only to dig it out of a hole immediately afterwards? Cate had set up the Sybil Down shoot and had been distraught when it all fell through. Suddenly he remembered ignoring a remark from Cate, a remark he had thought uncharitable at the time, telling him she had felt awkward about Rebecca drafting in Rachel Barnaby and saving Sand’s first cover shoot.

‘She just wants to undermine Cate,’ said Nick quietly to Tom, as if he was thinking it for the first time.

‘Cate and Rebecca not get on then?’ said Tom, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

‘Fucking Rebecca,’ muttered Nick under his breath. He caught sight of her platinum-blonde hair in the corner of the room and left Tom’s side, moving towards her.

‘Rebecca.’

Rebecca spun round and flung her arm around Nick’s neck, pressing her plunging neckline against his chest. She looked stunning, her curves poured into a backless metallic-coloured dress, cut to mid-thigh. Her breath smelt of whisky, her eyes were wide from cocaine. The longer he looked at her the less he could see a beautiful woman and the more he realized she had an ugly soul. Had Rebecca always been this way or had it taken him this long to wise up to it? He was an idiot.

‘Fabulous party,’ she breathed into his neck. ‘Although I took two goody-bags and there isn’t anything decent in any of them.’

He pushed her away forcefully. ‘I know what you said to Marion Doherty.’

‘About what, darling?’ she giggled, dragging him onto the terrace.