thought himselfincapable of arousal for the rest of the evening, but he was wrong. She was turning into a delightfully skilful lover. Given how gauche and unadventurous she had been just a few weeks ago, Leo felt he’d done wonders with her. It was just a question of working out exactly what to do with her in the long run.
Rachel put the phone down. She stood for a moment by the desk, staring out at the glimmering summer dusk, then became aware of her own reflection in the panes, her pale face, dark, sleek hair around her shoulders, the strained and tense expression on her face. She made an effort to relax. She hated so much hearing another woman’s voice on the phone when she rang Leo. Another woman sharing his time, his bed, enjoying his company and his affection, all that she had lost.
Charles came through from the kitchen, stood behind her and kissed her neck, adding his reflection to hers. Maybe if he were a bastard, just like Leo, she would love him as much. But it was beyond Charles to be anything but kind and sweet.
‘How was he?’ he asked.
‘Oh, robust as ever.’ Rachel sighed. ‘Not going to do a thing about it.’
‘Did you expect there would be writs flying in all directions?’
‘Leo knows that would be worse for us all in the long run. Just imagine what a field day the media would have with a libel action, when it came to trial. No, he intends toride it out, so far as I can tell. Which is what we’ll have to do, too.’
‘Poor bastard.’
‘Please, don’t start feeling sorry for Leo. I know you like him, but I’ve no doubt this predicament is partly of his own making. He can’t be entirely blameless.’
‘Oh, come on. He’s going to have to suffer the fallout, professionally.’
‘I know. I can imagine a lot of potential clients will run a mile from instructing him now.’
In her 2,000-a-night hotel suite, Adriana Papaposilakis, somewhat late in the day, was reading a copy of
The Sun.
She nicked back through the pages and scanned once again the features of the QC who was at the centre of the scandalous story about this poor television presenter. Very handsome. Quite remarkably so. He was also apparently amoral and licentious to an extraordinary degree, if the story was to be believed, but given the average wronged woman’s propensity for vengeful hysterics, Adriana doubted if the portrait was strictly accurate. Accurate or not, to her such qualities weren’t without their attraction. Dangerous and challenging men were few and far between, in her personal experience. Her own power and wealth – and beauty, of course – seemed to have an emasculating effect upon them, rendering them soft, easy and ultimately tiresome. This man looked more formidable and interesting than most. How useful, too, that he happened to be a commercial barrister of the first rank. She wondered why she hadn’t come acrosshim before. He would be a thrilling change from the dry, boring lawyers who generally handled the affairs of her multi-million-pound Greek shipping line. Just the man to help her with the vexing matter of the insurers who were refusing to pay out on the loss of her yacht. She smiled, yawned, ruffled her blonde hair with a small and delicate hand, then reached for a pen to note down the name. Leo Davies.
CHAPTER THREE
Henry came into chambers especially early the next morning to oversee the smooth settling in of the new tenants. On the steps outside he encountered a small number of journalists and photographers, clamouring for information about Leo.
‘I very much doubt if Mr Davies will be in chambers today,’ Henry informed them sternly, ‘so you can get off my steps and stop wasting your time.’
When he peered out of the waiting room window half an hour later, they were still there.
‘They’ll probably wait out there all day, on the off-chance,’ remarked Felicity. ‘Nothing better to do.’
‘Has anyone spoken to Mr Davies since yesterday morning?’ asked Henry.
‘He
Rachel put the phone down. She stood for a moment by the desk, staring out at the glimmering summer dusk, then became aware of her own reflection in the panes, her pale face, dark, sleek hair around her shoulders, the strained and tense expression on her face. She made an effort to relax. She hated so much hearing another woman’s voice on the phone when she rang Leo. Another woman sharing his time, his bed, enjoying his company and his affection, all that she had lost.
Charles came through from the kitchen, stood behind her and kissed her neck, adding his reflection to hers. Maybe if he were a bastard, just like Leo, she would love him as much. But it was beyond Charles to be anything but kind and sweet.
‘How was he?’ he asked.
‘Oh, robust as ever.’ Rachel sighed. ‘Not going to do a thing about it.’
‘Did you expect there would be writs flying in all directions?’
‘Leo knows that would be worse for us all in the long run. Just imagine what a field day the media would have with a libel action, when it came to trial. No, he intends toride it out, so far as I can tell. Which is what we’ll have to do, too.’
‘Poor bastard.’
‘Please, don’t start feeling sorry for Leo. I know you like him, but I’ve no doubt this predicament is partly of his own making. He can’t be entirely blameless.’
‘Oh, come on. He’s going to have to suffer the fallout, professionally.’
‘I know. I can imagine a lot of potential clients will run a mile from instructing him now.’
In her 2,000-a-night hotel suite, Adriana Papaposilakis, somewhat late in the day, was reading a copy of
The Sun.
She nicked back through the pages and scanned once again the features of the QC who was at the centre of the scandalous story about this poor television presenter. Very handsome. Quite remarkably so. He was also apparently amoral and licentious to an extraordinary degree, if the story was to be believed, but given the average wronged woman’s propensity for vengeful hysterics, Adriana doubted if the portrait was strictly accurate. Accurate or not, to her such qualities weren’t without their attraction. Dangerous and challenging men were few and far between, in her personal experience. Her own power and wealth – and beauty, of course – seemed to have an emasculating effect upon them, rendering them soft, easy and ultimately tiresome. This man looked more formidable and interesting than most. How useful, too, that he happened to be a commercial barrister of the first rank. She wondered why she hadn’t come acrosshim before. He would be a thrilling change from the dry, boring lawyers who generally handled the affairs of her multi-million-pound Greek shipping line. Just the man to help her with the vexing matter of the insurers who were refusing to pay out on the loss of her yacht. She smiled, yawned, ruffled her blonde hair with a small and delicate hand, then reached for a pen to note down the name. Leo Davies.
CHAPTER THREE
Henry came into chambers especially early the next morning to oversee the smooth settling in of the new tenants. On the steps outside he encountered a small number of journalists and photographers, clamouring for information about Leo.
‘I very much doubt if Mr Davies will be in chambers today,’ Henry informed them sternly, ‘so you can get off my steps and stop wasting your time.’
When he peered out of the waiting room window half an hour later, they were still there.
‘They’ll probably wait out there all day, on the off-chance,’ remarked Felicity. ‘Nothing better to do.’
‘Has anyone spoken to Mr Davies since yesterday morning?’ asked Henry.
‘He
Similar Books
