she opened the door a crack and was asphyxiated by horribly familiar rich, sweet aftershave as Shade forced his way in.
Amber tried patter. ‘Why didn’t you ring first? You know I’m allergic to droppers-in. What do you want?’
‘Another ride.’
Oh Christ, they were in the passageway leading to the sitting room. She prayed Marius couldn’t hear; he’d never forgive her.
Shade had taken off his tie and his dinner jacket, his white silk shirt was predictably undone to the waist. He looked so devilish she expected flames to burst from his waxed nostrils and his black eyebrows to shoot up at the corners like Mephistopheles.
‘I’m tired, Shade. Very tired. I’ve got interviews first thing. Please go.’
‘Not like you. You used to be much more friendly.’ Barging into the sitting room, Shade whistled.
‘Nice place, get it gratis? Who did you sleep with to get this?’
As she chucked Marius’s coke tin in the bin and put the champagne bottle back in the ice, he slid his hand under her dress, fingering her bottom, exploring it intimately. ‘Lovely arse.’
‘Don’t,’ said Amber furiously.
‘Don’t be silly. You could be a very lucky lady and have some really exciting rides. I’d use you in all ways.’
Oh God, if Marius knew she’d shagged Shade, such was his pathological hatred, and Valent’s too, they’d never forgive her. She’d be jocked off Wilkie.
‘Please go,’ she screamed.
‘Silly girlie, this time I’ll make it really worthwhile. In the sack and out,’ purred Shade. ‘I’ll make you come until you scream.’
‘What about Olivia?’ gasped Amber.
‘Olivia’s skiing. You and I are special. A ride for a ride, remember? You loved it last time, even if you’re pretending you didn’t.’
He thrust his huge, ringed hand into the neck of her dress, backs of his fingers digging into her breasts, before tearing the silk, sending buttons flying, as he tore it off her. Jack the bodice ripper.
‘Bloody don’t,’ howled Amber. ‘That’s my favourite dress. Mariska Kay made it specially for me.’
‘Relax, I’ll buy you half a dozen more. Let me loosen your girths.’ Undoing her leather belt, Shade slapped her with it before dropping it on the floor.
‘Beautiful breasts,’ he gloated. Hot breath scorched her forehead as he greedily grabbed, squeezed and tweaked, then, sliding his hands round her back, pulled her against him.
‘Let me go, you bastard,’ spat Amber, but as her knee came up, it encountered his towering cock.
‘Don’t try that silly little game.’ As Shade plunged a great sluglike tongue into her mouth, she was tempted to bite it off.
‘Let me go,’ she mumbled, tugging her head free. ‘It’s not fair to Olivia.’
‘Olivia won’t know a thing about it.’
‘Yes she will,’ said a chilling voice, ‘because I’ll tell her, and these horrid little things,’ Marius was clicking away with Amber’s oblong silver camera, ‘have their uses.’
‘What the fuck?’ Rigid with shock and fury for a second, Shade hurled Amber across the room so she hit the table, and crashed to the floor sending the champagne flying.
‘Gimme that camera.’
‘Not content with stealing my wife and wasting champagne at two hundred and seventy-five euros a bottle,’ drawled Marius, cool as the fallen ice bucket despite Shade giving him three stone, ‘you’re now trying to steal my stable jockey, you fat bastard.’
Next moment, Shade had grabbed the champagne bottle, smashed it and was brandishing the jagged edge in Marius’s face.
‘Fancy some surgery?’ he hissed.
In reply Marius gathered up a large pale blue lamp. ‘Drop that bottle or I’ll brain you.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Oh yes I would, and call the police and have you up on a rape charge, you fucking letch.’
Marius was so unafraid that, to Amber’s amazement, Shade suddenly dropped the bottle and, growling like a huge grizzly, lumbered out of the suite.
‘I’ll tell Olivia her ex is back fucking the stable staff and I’ll bury you,’ he shouted as he slammed the door behind him.
Struggling up off the carpet, Amber tiptoed over the broken glass, collapsing on the sofa, trembling uncontrollably, burning face in her hands.
‘Horrible, horrible man.’
‘It’s all right, darling.’ Marius dropped a hand on her piled-up hair, which was also collapsing.
‘I’m so sorry,’ sobbed Amber. ‘It was all my fault. I slept with him in exchange for a ride because I was so cross with you for not putting me up on History after Stratford.’
‘Was he good in bed?’
‘No, vile, crude, brutal, totally lacking in finesse. “Pleased hisself,” as Joey would say.’ Amber gave a choked half-laugh.
Glancing up, she was amazed to find Marius smiling in delight.