Stephanie's Castle Read Free Page B

she would see some curious
passer-by trying to look in to see who on earth the big car
contained. A film star, a politician, a tennis player? Stephanie
sat back in the plush seat and enjoyed it. This was certainly a new
experience.
    She was
wearing Devlin's clothes. The practical cotton dress, ideal for
travel - designed by Yves Saint Laurent, she had seen on the label.
And the luxurious cream silk underwear - a soft-cup bra, bikini
knickers and a suspender belt. She was wearing very sheer cream
stockings. As there had been no tights in the suitcase she imagined
Devlin had a preference for stockings and given what was happening
to her at the moment she was only too happy to oblige. In fact she
had packed almost nothing of her own. Venetia had been right: the
case contained every prerequisite for a weekend, right down to a
toothbrush. Devlin had thought of everything. She had packed a
little jewellery. There had been none in the case, for which she
was grateful. That would have been too much. And yesterday she had
gone shopping and purchased something she hoped Devlin would
appreciate.
    So where was
Venetia? Stephanie had expected her to be there tonight to pick her
up. She had to admit she was disappointed not to see her. Finding
the control in the side panel by the seat she pressed the button to
wind down the window between her and the driver.
    'Where's Mr
Devlin's chauffeur?'
    'I'm Mr
Devlin's chauffeur, madam,' he replied frostily.
    'Where's
Venetia, then?' she persisted.
    'I don't know,
madam.'
    Stephanie
hesitated, questions crowding into her mind. But she decided she
would play Devlin's game, and pressed the control button in the
opposite direction, watching as the glass panel whirred back up
into position.
    Would Venetia
be at the lake? Or was it just going to be Devlin? If she was
absolutely honest with herself, she didn't really care. If Devlin's
intentions had been to sweep her off her feet, make her careless of
what was going to happen to her, he had succeeded completely. In
her affair with Martin she had allowed herself to be taken to new
levels of sexual awareness. Whether this weekend with Devlin would
produce equally new experiences she had no idea. But her affair
with Martin had taught her to be open-minded and not to shy away
from the unknown. She sipped at the vintage champagne, then
refilled her glass. One thing was for sure: this was definitely the
way to travel.
     
    The car pulled
through the gates of a private airfield. Stephanie watched as it
drove up to a series of prefabricated buildings. The chauffeur
stopped the car and came round to open the passenger door.
    'You'll need
your passport, madam,' he said. A uniformed officer had come out of
one of the buildings, clipboard in hand. He quickly examined the
passport Stephanie produced, made a note on his clipboard, and
smiled.
    'All in order.
Have a good trip, miss,' he said, handing her back the
passport.
    Back in the
Cadillac the chauffeur drove around the buildings to a line of
hangars. Parked outside one of them was a white Learjet, obviously
being readied for take-off, its landing steps extended from the
passenger compartment. The chauffeur drove right up to the steps.
From the plane a Malaysian woman wearing a tight, white rough silk
Kheong-Sam high to the neck but split to well above the knee, came
down. Her thick black hair was cut short and parted in the middle,
a style which perfectly suited her round face and green jade eyes.
She opened the car door for Stephanie.
    'Good evening,
madam. I'm Susie, your flight attendant this evening.' She smiled.
The chauffeur had taken the suitcase from the boot and put it
aboard the plane. 'Have a good flight, madam,' he said, touching
his hand to his cap in what passed for a salute.
    'Thank
you.'
    'This way,
madam,' Susie said, leading the way up the steps and into the main
cabin of the plane.
    If the inside
of the Cadillac had been luxurious, the inside of the plane was
palatial. In the main cabin there was