Maggie Cox - A Taste of Sin

The doctor on call had diagnosed pneumonia and he told her that it was crucial they stabilised the condition and that he got plenty of rest. To that end they would be keeping him in longer than they’d first envisaged, and would be treating him with antibiotics and extra oxygen.

As she sat by his bedside holding his hand, Philip opened his eyes just once, to acknowledge that he knew she was there, and she gently assured him that everything was going to be all right, that he wasn’t to worry. But even as she said the words Rose didn’t entirely believe them. Suddenly the man who had been such a firm friend to her and her father looked worryingly old and haggard...and very, very ill.

Having tried so hard to hold back the tears during her visit, as soon as she got home she threw herself onto the couch and the floodgates opened.

* * *

They weren’t the last tears she cried over the testing week that followed. One day Philip was rallying encouragingly, looking a little better, and the next it seemed he was worse. Managing the shop as well as talking to an array of healthcare professionals about his aftercare, Rose was on a rollercoaster of emotion that one moment had her feeling hopeful for his full recovery and the next fearing the unthinkable...

She had all but forgotten her recent encounter with Gene Bonnaire. But one evening after work when she visited the hospital Philip told her he wanted to discuss something important. She had an uneasy feeling that the billionaire’s offer to buy the antiques shop was on his mind. A couple of days earlier she had shown him Gene’s offer. She was right. He clearly hadn’t felt ready to discuss it then, but he did now.

‘Rose...I want you to contact Mr Bonnaire and tell him that I’m going to agree to the sale.’

There was a flash of what looked to be deep regret in his pale blue eyes, and his expression was apologetic.

‘I’m disappointed that he doesn’t want to buy the business and that it won’t continue as I’d hoped, but in my present situation beggars can’t be choosers. Seeing as I haven’t had any other offers, and I’m advised I’m going to be housebound for quite some time after this, I’ll need to pay for private care. As you know, I don’t have any family, but at least I have some material assets that I can realise to help me—the main one being the antiques shop. The man’s offer for the building coupled with the antiques is more generous than I could have hoped for. He left me his card, didn’t he? Can you contact him and arrange a meeting?’

Fighting to regain her composure at the idea that she was going to have to talk to the Frenchman again, Rose replied ‘I’ll do whatever you want me to do to help, Philip, but surely you can’t meet with him to discuss things until you get out of hospital?’

Once more he was apologetic. ‘I’m afraid I can’t risk waiting that long. I need to sell the place as quickly as I can to free up some money for my care. I’m asking you to handle the sale for me, Rose. I’ve contacted my solicitor and he’ll draw up the necessary papers. This is his name and number.’

He opened the bedside drawer, took out a single sheet of vellum that he’d written on and handed it to her.

‘Anything you need to know, he’ll explain.’

‘It seems that you’ve made up your mind, then.’ Frowning, Rose felt her muscles clench tight at the idea of once again coming face to face with Gene Bonnaire and knowing that this time he would be the one who had the advantage and would undoubtedly use it for all he was worth...

‘Yes, my dear...I have.’

‘Then I’ll see to things right away. In the meantime you should try and rest as much as possible. The last thing you need is to be stressed about anything.’

Smiling fondly, Philip patted her hand as it lay on the counterpane. ‘I should have told you this before, Rose... I don’t know how I would have managed these past ten years without you. Without question, your loyalty, friendship and hard work have been invaluable and if I had been a much younger man I don’t doubt I would have fallen a little bit in love with you.’

Feeling her cheeks glow warmly, Rose smiled back—even as she remembered Gene Bonnaire’s ridiculous implication that her relationship with her boss might not be just a working one. What she’d give to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his handsome face when next she saw him! Only she couldn’t. She had to be nice to him because Philip urgently needed this sale. The last thing she would do was jeopardise things just because the man had rattled her.

But then, as she recalled that he’d asked her if other people ever reciprocated her kindness to them, she knew that the man had much more sensitivity than his very public persona suggested and thought that it would be intriguing to discover more...

‘It’s sweet of you to say so,’ she answered Philip, ‘but to be frank I think I’m destined to stay single. I’ve only been in love once in my life and it wasn’t the happiest of experiences. I’m not eager to do it again.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t you believe that it might be different the next time? Not so painful, I mean?’

‘No, I don’t. I don’t because—present company not included—I don’t trust men. I think I’d be better off on my own.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m far too independent, and men sense that. It would take someone pretty exceptional to get me to change my mind and I haven’t yet met anyone who fits that particular bill.’

‘Not yet, you haven’t, Rose, but you will...you will.’

With a knowing smile, the man in the hospital bed closed his eyes and, leaving him to doze, she folded the sheet of notepaper he’d given her, slipped it into her bag and discreetly left...

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