‘How long have we got?’ she asked, and he had to stifle a laugh. She was wearing a tiny dress that was all chiffon and swirls of colour, and four-inch heels.

‘Long enough,’ said Nipper.

‘Good,’ said Milly as Nipper took her hand and led her down to the edge of the field. When they were out of sight of the road, Milly frowned. ‘If Dad knew . . .’ she started.

‘He doesn’t. And he’s not going to,’ said Nipper, pulling her in for a kiss.

‘He’s still keen on me and Javier,’ she said gloomily. ‘Just because he shoves a bit of business Dad’s way, he thinks I’ll fall into line? It’s such bollocks.’

Nipper wasn’t interested. He was working the flimsy dress off her shoulder. She looked ridiculous in the thing, like Dumbo in a tutu. He wondered briefly if she realized – as he did – that the days of Charlie Stone ruling them all were done. Charlie just didn’t know it yet. Harlan had been talking to Javier, making deals that Charlie knew nothing about. Harlan was the main man now. It was obvious to everyone except Charlie himself.

He kissed her silky skin and popped one boulder-like breast out into his hand. Boffing Charlie Stone’s daughter always gave him a frisson of excitement. Charlie didn’t want Milly mixing with the staff.

‘Don’t worry about all that,’ said Nipper. He turned, pinning Milly up against the trunk of an oak tree. ‘None of it matters,’ he said, kissing her harder, more urgently.

‘Oh,’ she sighed, pushing the filmy garment down over her hips so that it pooled at her feet.

No knickers, either.

He lifted her up – Christ, she was heavy! – parting her thighs, then Nipper pushed his cock deep into her wet depths. She moaned and wrapped her arms and legs around him as he hammered her into the side of the tree, pushing and shoving at her until he came.

All too soon – just like always – he pulled out of her, tucked his cock back indoors, zipped up. Unfulfilled, feeling somehow cheated, Milly picked up her dress and slipped it over her head. Then they heard it. Both turned toward the sound coming from their left, high up in the sky. It was a pin-prick of darkness against the blue, and then it came closer, closer, and then they could see. It was a helicopter.

‘Daddy’s home,’ said Nipper, watching as the big machine whirred away to the right, going lower as it crossed over the fields.

Milly was silent, her eyes fixed on the aircraft. Then she drew away from him. ‘I’m late. Gotta go.’

90

While Nipper and Milly were meeting up, Belle Barton was speeding along the country lanes in her red open-topped BMW. She was thinking over everything, and coming up with nothing that helped, nothing to get her out of a state of extreme worry and bewilderment.