Page 292 of The Black Trilogy

FOREVER BLACK

PROLOGUE - PART 1

“YOU KNOW IT’S love when your feelings don’t leave, even if the person does.”

It started off as a better than normal day. I’d go so far as to call it good, because when I finished my session with Alex—the ex-Spetsnaz sadist my husband had lovingly appointed as my personal trainer—I managed to walk out of the gym rather than having to crawl.

“You should do more squats,” Alex said, following.

I flipped him the bird. “I have a meeting.”

Speaking of my husband, he was due back from California later this morning. He’d flown there to review staff performance at the LA branch of Blackwood, the security firm we ran along with two close friends, Nate Wood and Nick Goldman.

We’d flipped a coin for that trip, but I’d called tails and ended up spending two nights in New Jersey.

My phone chirped as I pulled a smoothie out of the fridge, letting me know Black had touched down in Virginia, just in time for our lunchtime appointment with a potential new client. Black hadn’t elaborated on who. And that meeting couldn’t be over fast enough for me, because in the afternoon, to turn a good day into a great day, the two of us were heading off to our chalet in France.

According to the weather forecast I’d checked over breakfast, there had been fresh snowfall in Chamonix overnight, leaving a couple of inches of beautiful powder. Happy days. Work had been crazy lately, and the thought of a few days of skiing without ringing phones or meetings or emails or people asking me what to do was bliss.

“I’ve put clothes out on the bed for you.”

Bradley, my assistant, wandered past carrying one of those little books of paint swatches. Now what was he planning? Last time he got it into his head to decorate, he’d created a replica beach at the edge of my swimming pool, and the sand got on everything, not least my nerves.

But when I got to the bedroom, I couldn’t criticise his choice of outfit. A practical yet elegant trouser suit, single-breasted, black. I’d never cease to be amazed at the way he always bought me clothes that fitted perfectly without me ever trying them on. On the rare occasions I did go shopping myself, I couldn’t manage it, even if I spent hours in the fitting room.

Black called me as I hopped up and down, trying to put on a pair of knee-high stockings. I laddered one, gave up, and answered the phone instead.

“All right, Chuck?”

I could picture his scowl, and it made me smile. His given name may have been Charles, but he hated it, and ever since I’d known him, he’d been Black. His surname and now mine as well.

“Still feeling bitter about your trip to Newark?”

“Whatever gives you that idea?”

He sighed, something he’d done a lot over the years. “I’m in a cab, and I should get there for twelve. Are you on your way?”

“Just pulling out of the driveway right now.”

“I don’t hear a car engine.”

Trust him to be so observant. “Would you believe I’m driving quietly?”

“Just hurry up, Diamond. How’s your little challenge going?”

My teeth gritted all of their own accord. Eight long, long days ago, I’d made the dumbest bet ever with my darling husband. If I didn’t swear for nine months, he’d tap dance shirtless on stage in Las Vegas. Wearing sparkles. I really, really wanted to win, but those nine months had the power to stretch into all eternity.

“Yeah, it’s going well. Fu…fudging marvellously.”

The son of a biscuit just chuckled then hung up.

SatNav said the drive to the Green Mountain hotel on the outskirts of Richmond should take thirty-five minutes, but if I paid lip service to the speed limits, I’d shave ten minutes off that. The sun shone from a blue sky as I walked to the garage, whistling out of tune. It would be rude not to take my Viper out for a spin, wouldn’t it?

My good fortune held when I reached the hotel without hitting any traffic or getting a speeding ticket. Five minutes to spare, not bad. Where was Black? I couldn’t see him outside, so either he’d gone in already or he hadn’t arrived yet. My competitive streak hoped for the latter.

I winced as a woman pushing a buggy clipped the mirror of a Ford Taurus parked a few feet away. No way was that happening to my baby, which was not only shiny but also a present from Black. The corner of the lot beckoned, well away from toddlers, careless elbows, and swinging handbags. A minute later, I’d swapped out my trainers for high-heeled instruments of torture and made it to the hotel entrance. The decorative clock above the door told me I was bang on time.

Congratulations, Emmy. Take a bow.

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