Page 19

Since the Hickstead competition didn’t start until Thursday, the riders had been offered the chance to spend a night in the city.

The excitement of London was contagious and almost everyone went

The bus was nearly full as it reached the small hotel in Knightsbridge, and they checked into their rooms.

Clay took over from there, guiding Ellie into a taxi and heading off toward Claridge’s where he left his bags with a huge black doorman in a long red coat and black silk top hat, telling him he’d be back later to check in.

Their late lunch at Indigo Jones on Garrick Street in Convent Gardens was glorious.

The restaurant was old brick and stained glass, and the food was delicious.

Afterward they walked the narrow streets.

The sun broke through the overcast, warming the day and brightening their already sunny moods.

“Convent Garden used to be the fruit and vegetable market for London,”

Clay said as they wandered in and out of a dozen tiny boutiques.

When Ellie held up an expensive gray silk, hand-painted scarf, Clay bought it for her.

“I want you to have something to remember the day,”

he said with a smile that touched her heart.

She bought him an old, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets, which, though inexpensive, he accepted as if it were the crown jewels.

While Clay excused himself to use the phone, Ellie discovered a quaint little shop that carried French lingerie.

On a whim, she bought a very sheer and expensive white lace teddy she’d seen in the window, and a pair of lace-topped, thigh-high stockings.

Back on the street, she flushed just carrying the shopping bag.

From Convent Gardens, Clay took her to the Tower of London.

Ellie was awestruck by its enormity, the timeless feel of the place, even before she went inside.

“The oldest part of the Tower was built around ten seventy-eight by William the Conqueror,”

Clay said.

“It’s been a fortress and a prison.

Of course, it’s most famous for its executions.”

Ellie shivered.

“Yes.

Thomas Cromwell, Anne Boleyn, Sir Thomas More.”

“And dozens of others.

The last executions took place in World War II.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

Clay nodded.

“Nazi spies.”

They walked along a stone corridor that crossed a grassy flat that was once a moat and entered the damp, thick-walled interior.

The stones felt rough and cold against her palm.

Clay led her through room after room filled with ancient weaponry.

“I didn’t know there were this many lances left in the world,”

Ellie said.

She studied the terrifying accumulation of axes, hatchets, bows and arrows, spiked clubs, and swords of every lethal shape and size.

“It makes me sad to think how much death and destruction all this has wrought over the centuries.”

“I guess it’s just human nature for people to kill each other.”

“I suppose.

But wouldn’t it be nice if mankind learned from the past and stopped?”

“I wish they’d stopped before Vietnam.

If they had, John would still be alive.”

Ellie squeezed Clay’s hand.

They walked in silence through the oppressive, dank, gray stone rooms, but talk of fighting had turned the conversation in a different direction.

“This may sound crazy, Clay, but I’ve been thinking about what happened on the plane and that man who attacked me.

You don’t suppose it’s some kind of plot? I mean something to do with the Olympics and international politics, or terrorism, or something?”

“It sounds far-fetched, but it doesn’t sound crazy.

In fact, I’ve been wondering if it could be something like that.

Nobody else seems too concerned.

I’ve been looking for those security people Jake mentioned, but the only one I’ve seen is the man he hired to watch the horses. Either they’re very good at what they do, or Jake’s telling just us that to keep us from worrying.”

“Jake wouldn’t do that,”

Ellie defended.

Clay’s shoulders tightened.

“You think a great deal of him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Enough to sleep with him?”

Anger slipped through her.

“We’re friends.

Jake’s been good to me.

He’s never been anything but a gentleman. And I resent your implying anything else.”

Clay’s shoulders relaxed.

“Take it easy.

So I’m a little jealous.”

He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss ovee her lips.

“To tell you the truth, it’s a new experience.

Forgive me?”

How could she not when he looked so sincere? “I swear you are the most incorrigible man I’ve ever met.”

But her anger had faded.

Clay smiled down at her.

“I promise to reform at least for the rest of the day.”

He linked her arm through his and they walked out into the sunshine.

“Believe it or not, I think a lot of Jake, too,”

he said later.

“I just hope he isn’t involved in something he can’t handle.”

“If he is, we’ll just have to help him handle it.”

Clay took her hand and by silent agreement their talk turned to more pleasant subjects.

The day was meant to be special, and both were determined it would be.

Clay hired a cab to tour the city and the afternoon passed in a whirl of colorful sights and sounds.

They saw the usual places of interest: Parliament, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey.

She especially loved St.

Katharine’s dock with its collection of historic ships.

Throughout the day, Clay remained solicitous, playing the gentleman so well Ellie was able to forget the evening ahead and just enjoy herself.

Late in the afternoon, he took her back to the team hotel where she was staying and carefully checked the room for unwanted visitors.

“I’ll be back for you at seven,”

he said at the door.

For the first time, he let his gentleman’s facade slip, flashing her a look filled with such lust Ellie’s stomach started to churn.

Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless.

“You’ve got time for a nap,”

he said.

“You’d better get some sleep because you won’t get much tonight.”

Another quick kiss and he was gone.

Ellie closed the door behind him.

She thought of the night ahead.

As Clay’s footsteps faded, so did some of her courage.

Ellie paced her room in nervous anticipation.

After a long soak in a pine-scented bath, she washed and curled her hair, then took extra care with her make-up.

She’d gone through every garment in her closet trying to decide what to wear over her expensive white lace teddy, finally choosing a simple black cocktail dress with a scooped-neckline and fitted skirt.

Even after her lengthy preparations, she was ready twenty minutes early.

Pacing her room, which seemed smaller by the minute, she wished she had a glass of wine to soothe her ragged nerves.

Again and again, she checked the time and tried to relax.

At least Maggie had chosen comfortable accommodations for the team.

Under normal circumstances, Ellie would have loved the Victorian motif, the dainty rosewood furniture, carved antique armoire, and queen-size bed with its fluffy down comforter

Circumstances were far from normal.

With every step, Ellie remembered what would happen tonight, the sheer white teddy whispering a reminder between her legs.

Her lace-topped stockings hummed against each other, setting up a sensual rhythm that heightened her anticipation even more.

At seven o’clock sharp, Clay rapped on her door.

Grateful the waiting was over, she answered the knock, forcing herself to smile.

Clay leaned into the doorway, gave her a brief kiss, and returned the smile. “Ready?”

He looked elegant and handsome in his tailored camel jacket.

Coffee brown slacks matched the color of his eyes, and his white shirt set off his suntanned skin.

“I’m ready,”

Ellie whispered, and Clay looked at her oddly.

“That nervous?”

“Does it show?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Ellie moistened her lips.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got a bottle of champagne waiting in the car.

As I recall, champagne eases your inhibitions.”

Wishing he hadn’t reminded her, Ellie managed another weak smile and picked up her black beaded purse.

Clay grabbed her tapestry overnight bag and took her arm to lead her out of the room.

When they reached the street, a white Bentley limousine waited at the curb.

“I’m impressed,”

she said, reassured that Clay had meant what he said about making the evening special.

A uniformed chauffer held the door while they slid into the back seat.

Ellie forced herself to relax against the soft gray leather while Clay uncorked and poured champagne into two crystal flutes.

“You look lovely,”

he said, his voice a little husky.

Dark eyes studied her face then swept down to the cleavage above the neckline of her simple black dress.

Ellie’s heartbeat quickened.

“Thank you,”

was all she could manage.

“To us,”

Clay said, holding up his glass.

“To us,”

Ellie repeated, “and to winning.”

They clinked glasses, then both took a drink.

“Tonight, I promise both of us will win,”

Clay said.

Ellie took another nervous sip.

She felt the light pressure of Clay’s fingers as they played over the back of the hand she rested in her lap and saw him studying her, his eyes dark and warm.

The glass shook ever so slightly in her hand.

Clay watched the woman next to him.

Ellie looked beautiful tonight, her hair loose around her shoulders, all sweet curves and tremulous smiles.

She was nervous, far more than he’d expected, and he wondered why.

She never seemed nervous with Gerry, but then according to Flex their affair had been going on for some time.

She hadn’t been nervous with Flex, but then she’d been drunk that night.

Clay didn’t want her drunk.

He wanted her breathless and eager.

He wanted to forget about dinner, take her straight to the hotel and make love to her.

Her hand shook as she took another long sip of champagne and glanced at him from beneath her dark-fringed lashes.

Clay bent down and kissed her, a soft, chaste kiss meant to soothe instead of heat, but her lips felt so lush and sweet he forgot his purpose.

Her response was timid at first, but he didn’t stop, just nipped and tugged her bottom lip, ran his tongue over her full bottom lip, then slid inside to taste her.

When Ellie relaxed against him, Clay deepened the kiss and pulled her into his arms.

He heard her tiny purr and felt her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck.

She was kissing him back now, making him hard and aching.

He wanted to take her right there on the seat.

He massaged her breasts through the front of her dress, felt the peaks stiffen against his palm, felt her trembling with desire instead of nerves--and made a decision.

Clay gently ended the kiss and spoke in low tones to the driver.

When he finished, he pulled Ellie back into his arms and started kissing her again.

Until the car stopped and the door swung open, he was lost in a world of sensuous pleasure, oblivious to his surroundings.

He jumped with a guilty start as the hotel doorman blew the whistle outside the car.

“We’ve arrived, sir,”

the chauffer said without looking into the dark interior.

“Oh.”

Ellie glanced at Clay, blushing prettily and trying to rearrange her clothes.

“There’s been a change of plans,”

Clay said to her.

He helped her out of the car and the doorman closed the door behind them.

“We’re at Claridge’s,”

Ellie said, glancing up at the words on the marquee.

“Trust me.”

Placing a possessive hand at her waist, he guided her into the lobby.

The interior was elegant, old world, and extravagant, in a style reminiscent of the thirties.

They crossed the lobby and walked into the elevator, Ellie looking a little uncertain.

When they stepped out on the fourth floor, he guided her down the hallway to his suite.

Inside the sumptuous room, decorated elegantly in coral and cream, he headed straight for the bar, which took up one whole corner.

Pulling a bottle of Dom Perignon from the refrigerator under the marble-topped counter, Clay popped the cork, which cracked against the beautiful, molded ceiling.

Ellie laughed, but it sounded a little forced.

Clay poured two crystal flukes of champagne and handed one to Ellie.

“What about dinner?”

she asked, glancing around as if he had lured her into his lair.

“Believe it or not, I had every intention of taking you to Le Caprice.”

He smiled down at her.

“But I didn’t think you could survive it, so we came here instead.”

A look of relief mixed with uncertainty crossed Ellie’s face.

Clay almost smiled.

“I was really looking forward to going,”

she said.

“It’s just that I kept thinking about...afterward.”

She glanced away.

“So did I, love.”

He led her to the plush, cream-colored sofa that rested in front of the marble fireplace.

Once she was seated, Clay bent over and slipped off her high-heeled shoes.

“If you’re hungry, we can have dinner sent up...or we can wait until later.”

“My stomach’s a little unsettled.

Later would be better, I think.”

Clay smiled indulgently.

Good God, she seemed innocent.

It was endearing, even if it wasn’t entirely real.

When she emptied her glass of champagne, Clay refilled it. The phone rang just as he finished.

“Damn.

I told the desk clerk to hold my calls.”

When he picked up the receiver, his father’s voice cracked across the line, and Clay knew exactly how the call had gotten through.

Few people had the courage to ignore a command from Avery Whitfield.

“Evening, son.

Just called to remind you we’ll be there bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? What are you talking about?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten.

The contessa is expecting us in Monaco.”

A sinking feeling settled over him.

“Look, Dad, something’s come up.

I won’t be able to make it.

You’ll have to give the contessa my apologies.”

“Nonsense.

She’s got guests invited who expect to see you...if you know what I mean.

I’ll be there in the morning.”

Without waiting for a reply, Avery rang off.

Clay sighed resignedly.

He knew his father would win--he always did.

Clay glanced at Ellie. He’d rather be spending the next few days with Ellie instead of the contessa and her jet set friends.

Whatever happened, tonight was his and Ellie’s.

He’d been looking forward to making love to her for weeks.

Nothing was going to spoil it.

He forced himself to put thoughts of his father aside and concentrate on the young woman on the sofa.

It wasn’t difficult to do.