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the negligee as she'd intended? Damn his business. How much was there to say about plastics?
    Riley stirred and began to speak, as if he'd read her mind. 'Morning gorgeous, I am loving this ...' He tugged at the delicate fabric of the negligee, allowing his hands to move down its wave-like folds, and underneath the hemline, his fingers exploring the softness of Amy's thighs before dipping them into his desired destination of the heat between her legs.
    Amy wasn’t surprised at how wet she already was, she had been feeling horny ever since leaving the lingerie store the evening before. She let out a murmur of excitement as his fingers probed deeper.
    'Where were you last night? I was waiting for you?'
    'Let me make it up to you.' He manoeuvred his naked body into position. 'You'd be surprised what there is to know about the ever-turning cogs of business.' Amy was about to answer but her mind blurred as Riley eased his way inside her, the hardness of his desire filling her aching needs and rippling a spasm of nerve-tingling euphoria across her body. She gave herself over to pleasure. Whatever there was to know, she didn't need to bother about it just yet.
    An unopened bottle of Babylon Pour Homme sat on the bedside table as the young couple rocked their way to orgasm. As Amy could feel her own release mounting she spied the bottle through eyes blurring slightly with the shuddering force of her oncoming climax. She made a mental note to make sure Riley was wearing it for their next sexual encounter. It would always remind her of Paris and it had definitely been a trip worth remembering.
    â€˜Oh my God, I love you, baby,’ screamed Amy as her lover released a hot flow of sexual lava into her. She should have uttered the exultation in French but any grasp of the Gallic tongue was forgotten once again, having been replaced by the sweet, sexual language of love. It was a language she was happy to be fluent in.

5
    Now, the letter
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    N othing made sense . The rantings of a dead man ... how the fuck ...?
    â€˜Amy – I’m writing this because I have to, I want to. I have to say sorry. A million times over. Sorry for the misery you’ve suffered, sorry for the confusion I’m about to cause, sorry for the heartache. Sorry for all of it. It shouldn’t have been this way. You might never forgive me but I’m writing this for you, for us . Is there an us? I hope so. One day you might understand, but for now …? I’m not who you thought I was, who I am. I’m wrong, bad.
    I should be dead. It’s what someone wanted that night in the club, that’s clear to me. But I survived. One day I’ll explain how. I’ve spent months thinking of how I’d say it to you.
    â€œRemember the body you cremated Amy, well, it wasn’t me ...” I thought of phoning but they’d trace the call and track my mobile. Hunt me down. They’d find me and realise they screwed up. They think they finished the job, Amy, but they didn’t. Somebody’s behind all this shit and I need help. No-one else knows, no-one, it has to stay that way, no police investigation ... nobody. The police can’t help, they’d just make it worse.
    Never doubt that I loved you, angel, never. I always did, right from the start, still do. But what happened at the club that night ... I’d seen it coming, bad things happen to bad people and I was the one who caused the deaths of Laura and Winston. I should have warned you. I shouldn’t be here, one day you’ll realise, maybe one day you’ll forgive me.
    You must find out who wanted me dead. I have to hide. I can’t be with you even though I want to. I need you so badly, to make love to you, but they’d use you against me. Kill you too. I can’t risk that. There’s only you, Amy. Whoever killed poor Laura and Winston wants me out of the picture too. I was their target, I’m sure of it.
    Laura, such a good friend, such a