a slab of sun-yellow, and a wafer of milky-grey mist hung ethereally, culminating in a slash of bright green, the grass and trees of the parkland. Multi-layered nature encompassing earth and sky. A kind of magic. Cannonberry Chase.
The car sped up the three-mile avenue of huge, hundred-year-old elms. The odd cock pheasant paraded its glorious plumage nonchalantly along the edge of the drive, having abandoned the huge wood that teemed with game-birds further on. The estate was a twenty-square-mile peninsula jutting out into Long Island Sound.
‘Slow down,’ Lara demanded.
Jamal slowed, and they cruised up the drive, listening. The forlorn boom of a fog-horn was just audible. The twitter of a bird. From the patches of tall grass and wildflowers came the rustle of some furry animal on the hunt for food. She hardly needed to ask. A mile or so up the drive, the enchantment of early morning, the peace and tranquillity of Cannonberry Chase, worked their magic on Jamal. He stopped the car.
Neither of them said anything. They watched the sun rise higher in the sky and slowly burn off the mist. He opened the car door and disposed of the leather jacket he had been wearing over his dress suit to counter the cold. He walked around to open the car door for her. ‘A glorious morning. Let’s walk together, become part of it. I think we should talk, settle a few things about what happened last night. We should get our story straight for the family, maybe establish some ground rules, before we reach the house.’
She didn’t move. He removed the chiffon scarf from around her hair and kissed the top of her head. She pulled away. ‘We have no future, Jamal. I thought I made that clear last night.’
‘It’s too late to behave like a silly child now, Lara. Let’s walk.’ There was a note of sternness in his voice.
He took her hand and kissed it and helped her out of the white Ferrari, removing the lynx car-robe she was wrapped in. She gave a slight shiver. He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. They walked from the road into the long grass and across the meadow. The rustle of her silk taffeta gown became part of the sounds of the morning, the vivid colours of her dress part of the landscape. She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, and he marvelled at the effect the place was having on her. She seemed to respond to the beauty, the peace and tranquillity of the newborn day. Here was the old Lara he had known from a child, lovely and provocative, an aristocratic maiden in the kingdom of Cannonberry Chase.
Only hours before, he had tapped into her darkest, most secret sexual core. Jamal had led her into sexual excess and she had allowed it to take control of her. Lara had revelled in the erotic fantasies of Jamal and the two other men he had provided for her. But now the coke, and the hashish, the champagne and the sex, had worn off, and it was time to come to terms with the reality of the night she and Jamal had spent together. He had handled her then in order to possess her. He had no problems about how to handle her now, to keep her as his
liaison dangereuse
, as he had every intention of doing.
And Lara? She had found sexual ecstasy. She had submitted to acts she had before considered impossibly decadent, and found erotic love. Sexual bliss. But as she walked now through the tall grass and wild flowers, the morning dew still glistening on them, in her beloved Cannonberry Chase, all life waking around her, such extremes seemed to the young woman too dark and murky to contemplate as anything other than sexual desire gone mad. Desire that must be suppressed.
She began to walk faster and faster and then, flinging the coat from her shoulders, began to run. Jamal caught it and chased after her. He grasped her by the waist and tackled her to the ground. He liked the fury he saw in her face, it excited him.
‘How could you? How could you let me be dragged into such an orgy as last night’s? A part of me
The car sped up the three-mile avenue of huge, hundred-year-old elms. The odd cock pheasant paraded its glorious plumage nonchalantly along the edge of the drive, having abandoned the huge wood that teemed with game-birds further on. The estate was a twenty-square-mile peninsula jutting out into Long Island Sound.
‘Slow down,’ Lara demanded.
Jamal slowed, and they cruised up the drive, listening. The forlorn boom of a fog-horn was just audible. The twitter of a bird. From the patches of tall grass and wildflowers came the rustle of some furry animal on the hunt for food. She hardly needed to ask. A mile or so up the drive, the enchantment of early morning, the peace and tranquillity of Cannonberry Chase, worked their magic on Jamal. He stopped the car.
Neither of them said anything. They watched the sun rise higher in the sky and slowly burn off the mist. He opened the car door and disposed of the leather jacket he had been wearing over his dress suit to counter the cold. He walked around to open the car door for her. ‘A glorious morning. Let’s walk together, become part of it. I think we should talk, settle a few things about what happened last night. We should get our story straight for the family, maybe establish some ground rules, before we reach the house.’
She didn’t move. He removed the chiffon scarf from around her hair and kissed the top of her head. She pulled away. ‘We have no future, Jamal. I thought I made that clear last night.’
‘It’s too late to behave like a silly child now, Lara. Let’s walk.’ There was a note of sternness in his voice.
He took her hand and kissed it and helped her out of the white Ferrari, removing the lynx car-robe she was wrapped in. She gave a slight shiver. He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. They walked from the road into the long grass and across the meadow. The rustle of her silk taffeta gown became part of the sounds of the morning, the vivid colours of her dress part of the landscape. She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, and he marvelled at the effect the place was having on her. She seemed to respond to the beauty, the peace and tranquillity of the newborn day. Here was the old Lara he had known from a child, lovely and provocative, an aristocratic maiden in the kingdom of Cannonberry Chase.
Only hours before, he had tapped into her darkest, most secret sexual core. Jamal had led her into sexual excess and she had allowed it to take control of her. Lara had revelled in the erotic fantasies of Jamal and the two other men he had provided for her. But now the coke, and the hashish, the champagne and the sex, had worn off, and it was time to come to terms with the reality of the night she and Jamal had spent together. He had handled her then in order to possess her. He had no problems about how to handle her now, to keep her as his
liaison dangereuse
, as he had every intention of doing.
And Lara? She had found sexual ecstasy. She had submitted to acts she had before considered impossibly decadent, and found erotic love. Sexual bliss. But as she walked now through the tall grass and wild flowers, the morning dew still glistening on them, in her beloved Cannonberry Chase, all life waking around her, such extremes seemed to the young woman too dark and murky to contemplate as anything other than sexual desire gone mad. Desire that must be suppressed.
She began to walk faster and faster and then, flinging the coat from her shoulders, began to run. Jamal caught it and chased after her. He grasped her by the waist and tackled her to the ground. He liked the fury he saw in her face, it excited him.
‘How could you? How could you let me be dragged into such an orgy as last night’s? A part of me
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