Chapter Fifty-Four
Emme woke in Tristan’s arms to the sound of the bells chiming in the square for Sunday morning service.
His naked body spooning hers like a Trojan warrior as she emerged from a blissful sleep.
They had made love to each other, passionately and intensely on the sofa, then again in Tristan’s bed in the middle of the night, and Emme already knew she was in too deep to question it.
‘Tell me about London,’ he whispered, realising from the sound of her breathing that she was awake. Emme rolled over to face him, her body curled in a foetal position, her knees almost to his chest.
She put her hands on his muscular, tanned arms.
‘You’ve just been!’
‘Tell me about your London,’ Tristan said.
She pondered her London – a small flat in Balham and a job by St Paul’s Cathedral – and imagined it would be different to Tristan’s London. Flying in and flying out for whistlestop trips on his private jet. What was he doing in London last week anyway?
‘The walk from the South Bank across the Millennium Bridge, to where I work, makes me think it’s the most magical city in the world.’
Tristan looked at Emme like she was the most magical thing he had ever seen in the world. Who was she kidding? He looked at every woman like that.
‘Sounds amazing,’ he said, enchanted.
‘How well do you know it?’
‘My dad took me on trips there. To the tennis. To the polo. I was just there to meet a business associate of my mother’s …’
‘Nice. Where did you stay?’
‘A hotel in South Kensington, but I’ve never really seen the real London.’
‘I should show you some time.’ Even as Emme said it, she had a feeling it would never happen. She couldn’t imagine Tristan at a gig in Camden, or strolling with her through Hyde Park.
‘I’d love that.’
‘Who were the business associates?’
‘Guys who might be running the estate back in South Africa,’ he said, looking a little cagey. ‘We need new staff and this team runs an estate in the Napa Valley … and, well, they might be heading south.’
‘What’s your home like?’ Emme asked. She had never been to South Africa.
‘Beautiful,’ he said, piercing her with his golden eyes. ‘A different kind of beautiful to this. Rolling green fields and stunning mountain views, the best beaches in the world …’ he trailed off. He didn’t offer to show her.
‘And Du Kok Estates? How long has it been in the family?’
‘Three hundred years …’ he said, proudly. ‘My mother has been running it since her father died in the 1990s and, well, she made it go global. We were a boutique winery before then.’
‘Wow, she sounds incredible.’
Tristan gave a rueful smile. He looked like he missed his mother.
‘Yah, she is.’
Emme desperately wanted to ask him about his father. She hadn’t forgotten Lexy’s warning last night, but thinking of her now reminded her that she needed to get up and go home. She might be needed today.
She yawned and stretched out.
‘I’d better go …’ she said, looking at the clock next to the bed. Tristan’s room was simple: a double mattress on the floor with books and an alarm clock next to it. He must be the only billionaire who didn’t have furniture in his bedroom, Emme had thought, as they fell into it last night.
Tristan rolled on top of Emme and nuzzled her neck playfully.
‘Can’t you stay?’ he asked, aching to make her come again. He pressed into her. She lifted her pelvis.
If only.
‘I can’t, I might have to look after the kids.
I left in a hurry. And Lexy …’ She pondered whether to tell Tristan how weird Lexy had been about him last night, and suspected it wouldn’t go down well.
The past few hours since the party had been so blissful, she didn’t want to ruin them.
‘Lexy is on my case at the moment. I need to get back.’
Tristan dotted kisses into Emme’s neck.
‘Really? Come on.’
Then Emme blurted it out.
‘Yeah, she seemed to have an opinion about your dad …’
Tristan backed off, looking at Emme cautiously, before jumping up. He pulled his white boxers from the floor and put them on.
‘What did she say?’ he said, an angry flicker in his eye.
‘Not much …’ Emme half lied. She could tell these were tricky waters to navigate. ‘I know you said you and Lexy were friends, but –’
‘I didn’t say we were friends,’ Tristan said defensively.
Emme wrapped the feather duvet around her and sat up.
‘Erm, yeah you did. When we were skiing.’
‘No I didn’t,’ he said, with utter conviction. ‘I said everyone’s friends in this town.’
Why was he being so weird? He had gone from hot to cold in seconds.
‘Well, you’d better head back then. I need to shower anyway. Sort out my fucking face,’ he lamented. He left the bedroom and went to look in the bathroom mirror.
Emme sat up in the bed, feeling baffled.
Is that it?
Didn’t he want to know what Lexy had said?
She heard the hot water of the shower turn on.
Emme got up and walked around the apartment, looking for her underwear and Tiago’s clothes. She couldn’t find everything.
‘Tristan, have you seen the joggers I was wearing?’ she asked, as she poked her head around the doorway. He was holding them.
‘Whose are they anyway?’ he asked, as he almost flung them at her. A suppressed rage in his eyes.
Emme was startled – Tristan was obviously highly sensitive about his father, and she could understand why, but there was no need to be rude. She caught the joggers.
Jesus, she thought.
‘Thanks,’ she said sarcastically. As she got dressed, Tristan got under the shower and started humming – to shut out her noise perhaps – as she gathered her things and let herself out.