Mindstar Rising

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Julia closed the heavy panelled door behind her, stepping into the understated elegance of the Princess of Wales suite. The room made her uncomfortably aware of just how uncouth her own bedroom was. Here, she was surrounded by temperate shades and smooth curves, the brocade-covered furniture seemed to flow into the walls. Several antique pieces were dotted around, and instead of clashing with the modern setting they complemented it to perfection. Part of their appeal was in their placing, she'd decided. She was continually afraid she'd bump into one of the little Pope chairs and ruin the whole effect. She'd never be able to put it back in the exact spot.

Several huge bouquets of fresh flowers filled the air with their perfume. She breathed down the scent and headed for the bathroom. The evening had been an utter delight so far, she was determined not to lose the theme now.

"See you in a couple of months," was her grandfather's parting shot as she'd left Wilholm. He was paring down the sarcasm now, but couldn't resist one last dig.

She'd brought eight suitcases with her to the Marlston Hotel for the book launch. Actually, it was the gala relaunch of the Alaka publishing company. They'd decided to promote their new catalogue in grand style, no expense spared. A three-day junket for celebrities, financiers, aristocrats, and the media, even some of their authors were there. Three days, and more importantly, three nights.

Julia hadn't been quite sure what level the event was going to be pitched at, so she'd made some meticulous preparations. The first night dinner-dance had turned out to be a formal occasion; so, after much deliberation, and consulting Adela, she'd chosen a twelve-thousand-pound Salito gown. It was midnight-black, because it was hard to look bad in black; scarlet and gold moire patterns skipped across the fabric at every movement; the back was low, and the skintight front uplifting. For once she'd abandoned her St. Christopher and worn a single diamond choker. Her hair had taken Adela and the hotel's in-house crimper three-quarters of an hour to arrange; they'd made it seem slightly ruffled, as though it wasn't styled at all. The most difficult thing to do with hair the length of hers.

And it'd worked a dream. A miracle. Walking slowly down the stairs to the reception with Adrian on her arm she'd felt like a queen on her way to her coronation. Every head in the hall had turned to watch her progress, seven channel cameras had focused on her.

Serene, the nodes had yelled into her mind; grinning or giving a thumbs-up like some crass ingénue would've wrecked everything. But she'd kept her composure, and Adrian had walked tall beside her.

Alaka's chairman had hurried to the bottom of the stair to receive his guest of honour. The band had struck up, and she'd been offered champagne by a liveried waiter. All on camera.

She grinned oafishly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, dignity gone, clapping her hands in celebration. The Salito split down its invisible seam and she wriggled out of it, kicking off her shoes. Choker and panties joined them on the mossy purple carpet.

Two minutes. The time since Adrian had said goodnight. A soft kiss that had lasted far longer than politeness dictated. His room was two doors down the corridor.

He'd stayed with her all evening, turning down offers to dance with anyone else. And there'd been a lot of good-looking girls who'd asked him. Most of them were the daughters of the rich and famous that Alaka had invited. Julia had enjoyed their company, girls her own age who weren't so self-conscious and hung up about money as most people. There had even been a couple of them she wouldn't mind meeting again, potential friends.

Yes, it had been the best evening for quite some time.

Three minutes. Naked, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Not totally displeased. Her figure was lanky, but elfin rather than skinny. Her breasts were nicely rounded, even if she didn't have Kats' milk-beast size, and they didn't sag at all. Reasonably broad feminine-looking hips, too. And an all-over tan that'd taken two days on her balcony to perfect.

An uncomfortable sensation of emptiness was plaguing her stomach. What had Adrian seen when he looked at her? Her figure or her money and name? She couldn't forget that Bil Yi Somanzer hadn't even noticed her before Uncle Horace told him who she was.

Four minutes. Her bedtime lingerie was laid out ready. Adela hadn't been consulted in that department, not at all. Julia had bullied herself into making the decision. Kats wouldn't have had any second thoughts.

She drew a deep breath and pulled on the French knickers; they were sheer silk, a pale peach colour, inset with lace. Her robe was white silk, ankle-length. The combination was simple, sensual.

Impact was the most important thing. Overwhelm him, get him off-balance and push. She studied the mirror critically, then retied the belt. It still wasn't right. Five more goes and the front of the robe was open to her navel, showing a long V of deeply tanned skin, and a more than generous slice of breast.

Seven minutes. Julia went back out into the bedroom, dimming the biolums to a faint rose-tinted glow.

Rachel was on duty outside. When they'd arrived, Julia had told her that Adrian was to be allowed in At Any Time. Rachel's face had never flickered, the woman must be a cyborg.

How long to wait? That was the real twister. Give him say twenty minutes—no, fifteen ought to be enough. All he had to do was take off his dinner jacket.

Nine minutes. She stood by the bed. An antique four-poster. So romantic.

If he wasn't here after fifteen minutes then she'd damn well go to his room. If she could find the nerve. What if his door was locked? What if he said no? What if one of those link vixens from the party was with him?

God, don't even think about it.

Ten minutes.

There was a light rap on the door.

"Come in," she said, furious at the sudden quaver afflicting her voice. She almost let out a whimper of relief when she saw it was Adrian. He was wrapped in his burgundy towelling robe. Bare feet, no pyjamas.

She blipped the lock. Sealing him in.

"Julia!" There was a note of surprised admiration in his voice; and desire lighting his eyes as he drank down the sight of her.

She couldn't stand it anymore, and ran at him. Swept up in strong warm arms. Spinning round and round. Both of them laughing jubilantly.