Lauren trembled as she tried to hold Aurelia upright. The drunk woman's limbs were sprawling like creatures with their own independent wills. Why was she wearing the Victoria Secret underwear? What had possessed her? Lauren felt the lace against her skin as she tried to hold the woman still, but failed. Exasperated, she groaned and slammed her fists into her thighs. How could this have happened? She had only left left her for half an hour...forty-five minutes at most.

Henry's face, the way his eyes had blazed with anger, had shocked her. He had never looked at her that way before. A sense of foreboding swam through Lauren's consciousness and she realised she was truly afraid of what Henry would say. She reached out again for Aurelia, who was swaying against the wall, knocking gilt-framed portraits sideways along the paintwork.

"Get off me," said Aurelia, squirming out of reach.

"Please -" The sound of the door opening made Lauren shudder, and she bit down on the rest of her unspoken sentence.

"What the hell was that?" Henry strode towards his sister, fire in his eyes, pulling himself up short with barely an inch between them.

Aurelia dipped her head and laughed, letting her dark hair fall over her eyes. Green eyes, just as vibrant and beautiful as Henry's.

"Answer me," he said, lifting his hands as if he meant to take her shoulders and shake her.

"She's drunk, she doesn't know what she's doing," said Lauren, creeping round into Henry's peripheral vision. He glared in her direction, his words slow.

"Oh, don't be fooled." He raised a fist, the knuckles white as he crammed his fingers into his palm. "She knows exactly what she's doing. She a cold, manipulative -"

"Henry!" said Lauren, taking a step forward, reaching out, afraid he might strike his own sister.

He dropped his hands to his sides and slid away from Aurelia, who shrivelled against the wall, a disjointed smirk on her face. With thin hands she tried to cover herself as she stood in nothing but the underwear.

"And you," he said, turning to face Lauren, "where were you? I told you to watch her. Christ!" He stretched his hands out towards her, the fingers splayed, rigid, as though he wanted to grab her skull between them and crush it.

"This is not my fault -"

"You saw what she's like. You knew. I asked you to watch her -"

Lauren felt his anger as though he were striking her physically with every word. A lump rose in her throat and she fought it back down. She wouldn't cry in front of him. "She's a grown woman. She should be able to take care of herself. I'm your PA. This," - Lauren pointed a shaking finger at Aurelia - "she, is beyond the call of duty. You can't expect me to do my job and run about after your crazy family." She heard a crack in her voice as she spoke the last words, and hoped Henry had missed it.

He ran a hand through his hair and blinked, for a second too long. Then, his green eyes flashing at Lauren, he thrust an upturned palm in Aurelia's direction. "But look at her! All you had to do was keep an eye on her. Make sure she didn't have too much to drink. She has made me ridiculous" - he swung back to face Aurelia - "and what the hell are you wearing? You look like a second rate prostitute."

Aurelia raised her sullen face to her brother. "You would know."

He froze. "What?"

"I said, you would know." Between each word she jutted her chin into the air. "Besides," - she slipped against the wall again, one finger flicking the elastic waistband of the thong - "they're not mine." Aurelia managed to look pointedly at Lauren, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

Lauren saw Henry stiffen as he caught his sister's meaning. "Oh yes, you got it," she said. "Your little secretary brought her bedroom underwear for this trip." Aurelia glanced down at her almost naked body. "This is totally impractical," - again she pulled at the lace trim - "it's not for wearing under clothes."

Henry's brow creased and he lifted his eyes to Lauren's in what seemed like slow motion; in them she read disappointment, shock and confusion. He looked hurt, and Lauren felt the lump in her throat throb all the more, tears of frustration and shame pounding behind her eyes. She blinked them back and clamped her teeth down on the inside of her bottom lip to stop it from trembling, clasping her hands before her.

"You wouldn't even have to pay her. Little slut. She'd do you for free," said Aurelia.

Lauren's cheeks burned, and her knees felt weak. She reached out for the wall behind. Her cocktail dress felt ridiculous, her high heels pointless. All her hopes of wowing Henry tonight were all being swallowed up along with a gallon of expensive liquor. She gulped and broke the silence.

"I -"

"Don't. Don't say anything. Just get the hell out of my sight, and take this tramp with you." He turned away and stalked off down the corridor, whether to rejoin the party or to be alone, Lauren had no idea, but as soon as his back was turned she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the tears much longer. But not in front of Aurelia. Not in front of his sister. She took a deep breath.

"Let's go," she said, slinging a supportive arm about the tiny woman, who, now so exhausted, allowed her to do so without complaint. But as soon as they set off Lauren realised she had no idea where in this enormous mansion Aurelia's room was. "Where's your bedroom?"

"Dunno."

"Yes you do."

"I'll take the Priory." Lauren swallowed, knowing that was her room. Well, she thought, at least I know where that one is. "It's where Henry will send me again."

"What?"

"The Priory. For addicts," she slurred.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Costs a bloody fortune. Throw money at a problem. That's always been his attitude. If you can't get rid of it, lock it away, out of sight."

"I'm sure he doesn't think that." Lauren shouldered open the door to her room, noticing that her bag had been rifled through and all her belongings tossed over the floor. She sighed and helped Aurelia into bed.

"Don't you want your underwear?" asked Aurelia, straining to remove the bra, but failing miserably when the elastic straps pinged from between her fingers.

"Keep it," she said, coaxing Aurelia into a prostrate position again with gentle pressure to her shoulder. The drunk woman yielded and lay flat. Lauren grabbed the waste paper basket and set it by the bed, informing Aurelia it was there should she need to use it, and left a full glass of water on the table with some painkillers. Then she took a seat and waited for Aurelia to pass out.

When she was sure she was asleep, she crept about the bedroom, picking up her belongings and thrusting them into the bag. She had nowhere to sleep now, what with Aurelia sprawled across the bed sheets. It was only half past ten. She had time to grab a taxi and get back to London. She didn't want to stay; she didn't want to see Henry or to feel the brunt of his anger again. She looked down at Aurelia, sleeping so innocently.

"You really screwed me over," she whispered.

She put on her coat, wrapped a scarf about her neck and picked up her bag. She opened the door slowly, her heart beating like a thief at a robbery, expecting to be discovered at any moment. She closed it, letting the heavy wood click into place. She could hear the merriment still going on downstairs, music playing and the sound of glasses clinking and cheering. Perhaps Henry was giving another speech.

She was about to reach the back staircase, when she remembered her iphone. She had left it to charge, connected to the computer in Henry's study. She felt the blood rushing through her veins as she moved stealthily back through the darkened rooms on the first floor until she came to the study. The light was out, and she pressed open the door, which creaked on its hinges. Moonlight streamed into the empty room, filling it with a bluish glow, as gloomy as Lauren felt.

The wood panelling gleamed in the darkness and Lauren ran her fingertips along it, walking to the window where she looked down on the approach to the house, the wide gravelled area covered with expensive cars, all neatly parked up. Ferraris, Aston Martins, Mercedes...even a Lamborghini or two. This world was so beyond her own, so far out of reach. She wondered if she'd been foolish to enter it at all. She sat down at Henry's desk, leaning her elbows on the desk.

And then, all of a sudden, the tears came, in the darkness, hidden from everyone. She let them fall, washing her mascara down her cheeks, feeling a strange satisfaction in the heaving sobs that wracked her chest. She cried for so many things; for herself, for Tony, for Henry, and for how she felt about both of them.

When there was nothing left she lay her head on the desk and wiped her eyes, listening to the silence.

Finally, she stood and walked over to her own desk, unplugging her phone and clicking the button to light up the screen. She had one message from an unknown number. She opened it.

"Don't you want to know his secrets? Call me."

The words made her heart plummet to the floor and sent a shiver down her spine, making every hair on her body stand on end. Her first instinct was to look over her shoulder in case the sender was in the room. Seeing no one, she laughed at her own foolishness and shook her head.

"Lauren?"

She gasped and swirled round to find Henry standing in the doorway. She had been so preoccupied she hadn't even heard the door open. She slipped the phone into her bag and looked up at him.

"What are you doing? Why are you wearing your coat?"

"I'm leaving. The last train isn't until after midnight. I still have time."

He closed the door behind him. "Please don't."

Lauren felt the tension as though it were a solid buffer between them. Her feet felt glued to the spot. Whatever he chose to do now, she wouldn't be able to move.

"I can't stay Henry. I just can't."

Not once did he look away from her, and she found herself mesmerised as his eyes glinted in the moonlight, full of an emotion she couldn't understand. What was he thinking? She shook her head.

"You've been crying." His voice was soft, and without looking at him she knew he had moved nearer to her. The air about her darkened and She could smell his scent, making her head spin and her breath catch in her throat.

"No -"

"I'm sorry about earlier. Really I am. I was so shocked. I didn't mean to upset you." There was genuine remorse in his eyes as she looked up at him.

"I can't be here," she said.

"Don't go. Not now, not like this." She closed her eyes, feeling his warm fingers trace her own, stroking them, weaving between hers until their hands were locked together. The action sent a fire right through her body, pooling somewhere deep in her hips. She gasped.

"Please -" She tugged at her hand, trying to free it, but he pulled her towards him, catching her in his arms, pressing their bodies together. Lauren dropped her bag to the floor and clutched at him, shocked at how instinctively her body reacted to his.

"I need you," he whispered, kissing her neck, forcing her to surrender to him utterly. She was powerless, lost in the embrace, wanting more from him...much, much more. She turned her cheek, letting her lips find his, raising her hands to his face, melting into his kiss. Never had she felt so completely absorbed, so unquestioningly sure that it was just what she wanted.

She felt his hands move over her body, unbuttoning her coat. She wriggled free of it and let him pull it from her arms, throwing it to the floor. He pushed her back towards the desk, breaking their kiss to drop his head to her shoulder, kissing the skin, sliding the strap of her dress down her arm.

She felt his hand slide beneath her skirt, pulling it up her thigh, his fingers stroking around the to the inside where her skin was smooth. She closed her eyes, letting him feel her, tease her; but still he didn't touch her where her body begged to be touched most, to find some release for the desire that had built up inside.

He removed his hand and raised her up onto the desk, scattering piles of papers over the floor. He pressed against her legs, forcing them apart as he kissed her again, and she felt him, knowing how much he wanted her. God, it was too much. If she said nothing, if she did nothing now, there would be no turning back.

She pulled away. "No, stop," she moaned, unable to fill the phrase with its rightful meaning. Despite the words she used, she meant yes, please, yes; and Henry knew it. He ignored her, pulling her towards him again.

"No, stop. Stop," she said, more forcefully now, pressing her hands against his chest. He stepped back, a question in his eyes. "I have a boyfriend," she whispered.

"I know. And I don't care," he said, running his fingers up her bare arm, his eyes full of desire.

"I do. I care. I don't want this," she said, pushing him away again and hopping down from the desk, smoothing down her dress. Her pulse hammered in her ears and she felt a residual warmth between her legs that threatened to undermine her words.

Henry's breathing was laboured, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the silence that fell between them. "I do want it," he said.

Lauren closed her eyes. God, how she wanted him. Why was she saying no? Why was she giving up this opportunity? "I work for you. I want to keep my job. I don't want to ruin things." She picked up her coat and bag, and looked him in the eye. "I don't want to cheat on my boyfriend, although I guess it's too late for that now." Her lips were still warm and tender from his kisses. She shook her head and exhaled a short puff of air through her nose. "And most of all I don't want to be some little slut who'd do you for free."

*

For Lauren, it was the most erotic experience of her life. She replayed it over and over in her mind, pleasuring herself whenever the urge took her. Henry didn't come back to London until the middle of the following week, by which point Lauren had orgasmed over the memory of their encounter so many times that she could barely look at him. The shame and embarrassment that reddened her cheeks if he so much as glanced in her direction was enough to drive her to distraction.

She actively avoided him on the Wednesday he returned to the office, and he seemed content to leave things that way, for the moment at least. He had back-to-back meetings, so other than early that morning and midway through the afternoon she hadn't had to see him at all.

She wondered if he had thought about her; whether she had crossed his mind, even once. She had left him so abruptly that evening, storming from the room, freeing herself from his clutches and ignoring his pleas for her to stay. She had jumped into one of the cabs that had been ordered for the clients, but she hadn't cared; she needed out as quickly as possible before she turned back and gave in. She couldn't stay in the house, knowing he was there, in some other room, possibly wanting her as much as she wanted him.

She jumped as the phone on her desk gave a shrill ring.

"Good afternoon, Banville Developments. How may I help you?" She blurted out the words she now knew by rote, catching sight of Henry leave his office out of the corner of her eye.

"Lauren?" She sighed, recognising the voice as Tony's. Here was a problem she had avoided dealing with. He had called and texted several times over the weekend, but she hadn't wanted to face him.

"Hi."

"How come you haven't called me?"

"I've been busy," she said, spinning a pen through her fingers, watching it turn around her knuckles.

"Do you still want to see me?"

Lauren gripped the armrest of her chair. "Of course." She rolled her chair slightly so she could see Henry leaning over the reception desk talking to Mrs. Balfour. He twisted to look in her direction, whilst still mid-conversation. She dropped her head as soon as they made eye-contact, feeling a sickening heat rush through her body.

"Hello?"

"Yeh, I'm still here," she said.

"I'll pick you up as usual?"

"Sure."

*

Henry knew he should speak to Lauren. He wanted to, and he hated that he wasn't dealing with the situation directly. If this were a business negotiation, there was no way he would have let it continue like this. And yet he kept avoiding her. He hadn't taken her to any meetings, and he hadn't gone through to the main office to talk to her as he used to do. In fact, he missed her, even though she was only a few yards from him within the same building.

But she had rejected him. She had walked out on him, right when he had wanted her most. She was stubborn and opinionated for someone so young. For all she seemed timid, she wasn't afraid to say what she thought. He closed his eyes and replayed the moment she had told him she didn't want to be another little slut who would do him for free. There was nothing he could have done to stop her leaving, and he had tried. Christ, he had practically begged her to stay, and he knew she had wanted to. Or at least her body had wanted to. Her mind...well, that was another thing entirely, and frankly, it was getting in the way of what he wanted. He exhaled loudly, attempting to remove some of the tension from his body. The effort was vain.

His weekend had been taken up with dealing with Aurelia. He had booked her back into The Priory in Roehampton, under the care of a Dr. Merryweather, who was familiar with her case and had dealt with her before.

Outside the window of his office the rain was beating down, forming rivulets that ran down the pane of glass. He stood and peered out into the darkness, watching people run down the square, huddled under umbrellas, highlighted in the orange pools of light thrown by the street lights. Autumn was well underway, and as he stared, his hands in his pockets, his lower lip turned down and pouted.

Ever since Aurelia had been a teenager she had been in and out of therapy, institutions, even addiction clinics in South Africa. You name it; Aurelia had done it, or had it. Anorexia, bulimia, drug and alcohol addiction and probably a million other problems too.

Well, that was her way of dealing with life, he thought; with everything that had been thrown at them.

And then there was the aftermath of her crazy behaviour at the party. Henry could hardly bring himself to think of it; her skeletal body in that ridiculous underwear. He blinked his eyes open wider. Lauren's underwear. Had she really brought it to Marbedon because she thought... He shook his head. It didn't matter. Lauren never going to let anything more happen between them whilst she was still his employee. She had a cold determination that riled him.

He sat back down, sinking into his chair. He moved the mouse on his desk to bring his computer screen back from black. There was an email from Lauren in his inbox, sent over half an hour ago. He clicked on it and read:

"Henry,

We need to talk. I've checked your calendar and put a meeting in the diary for 10.30am tomorrow. I've booked out room two for half an hour. Please let me know if this suits.

Lauren."

He stared at it. She'd beaten him to it. She'd shown him up. He stood and let himself out into the corridor, and peered round to her desk. It was empty. The lights in the office were mostly off; even Mrs. Balfour had gone home. His shoulders sank and, smaller than he was before,