Free Wife in Public by Emma Darcy Page A

was more settled into the idea that her night with Jordan was a one-off experience which she could look back on with pleasure and no regrets. Heather, of course, wanted to know everything, the moment she swept into the office.
    ‘Did he zero in on you?’
    ‘Yes, he did,’ Ivy answered, and even managed to smile at her friend’s whoop of triumphant excitement.
    ‘Tell me all!’ Heather demanded.
    Ivy confessed that she had succumbed to the temptation of enjoying Jordan’s company at the gallery and described the follow-up dinner date in great detail, much to Heather’s salacious enjoyment.
    ‘And then? Did you go and look at his paintings?’
    ‘Some of them,’ Ivy teased. No way was she going to confide what actually led to the trip to Balmoral! Some things were too intensely private.
    ‘If you came straight home after that, I’ll kill you!’ Heather ranted. ‘I want to know if he’s a fantastic lover.’
    Ivy laughed, needing to keep the whole episode light and unimportant. ‘He is. I’d have to say he’s very, very good at sex. I’m glad I stayed the night.’
    ‘Only the one night?’
    ‘That was enough, Heather. You know he’s a playboy. I left while he was still asleep and ran into his housekeeper on my way out. If you’d seen the way she looked at me…’
    ‘Another notch on his bedpost?’ Heather interpreted with a sympathetic grimace.
    ‘It didn’t feel good. I was glad I skipped out when I did.’
    ‘Fair enough!’ Heather grinned. ‘Marvellous that hewas great in bed, though. I think you needed to be taken down from the shelf and dusted off. Hopefully it will get you more interested in looking for some real action in your life.’
    ‘I shall hope for it,’ Ivy replied, grateful that Heather had already relegated the experience with Jordan Powell to the realm of fantasy. Where it belonged. ‘Now let’s get down to work.’
    Occasionally, throughout the day, Heather questioned her further, but it was mainly curiosity about the Balmoral house, what Ivy had seen of it, nothing really personal. Orders for roses came in. The courier was loaded up and sent to the designated addresses. By late afternoon, Ivy was satisfied that her brief encounter with Jordan Powell had been dealt with and would quickly slip into the past. A memory. Nothing more.
    Until he struck again!
    ‘Uh-oh!’ Heather muttered and swung her computer chair around to face Ivy, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect. ‘You’re not going to like this!’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Jordan Powell is ordering roses and double chocolate fudge to go to your mother.’
    ‘My mother!’
    ‘With a message attached. For you, Ivy.’
    For one gut-twisting moment, she thought he knew the rose farm was hers.
    ‘It says… “Please tell Ivy…”’
    No, he was still trying to get to her through her mother!
    The relief was so intense she didn’t hear what the message was.
    ‘Say that again, Heather?’
    ‘“Please tell Ivy I need to talk to her. I’ll be at theBacio Coffee Shop under the clock in the Queen Victoria building between noon and two o’clock on Saturday and Sunday. I’ll wait until she comes.”’
    He wanted a face-to-face meeting, counting on his charm to win her over to what he wanted. She wasn’t going to risk it. No way! She might fall victim to it again.
    ‘What do you want me to do?’ Heather asked.
    ‘Put the order through. It’s business as usual. I’ll speak to my mother about it.’
    ‘Okay.’
    But it wasn’t okay . The same order came through on Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and Friday, constantly reminding Ivy of the man.
    ‘Maybe you should go and talk to him,’ Heather said as she was leaving on Friday.
    ‘No!’ Ivy answered firmly.
    But her weekend was totally wrecked, thinking about him waiting for her, wondering if he had something to say she would actually want to hear. Which was ridiculous, given his track record with women.
    He didn’t give up.
    The order was repeated on Monday