Devilish Delights, page 18
‘Laura Vincent.’
‘Delivery for you, Ms Vincent,’ said the voice.
‘What kind of delivery?’ This was a scary moment.
‘It’s a gift, ordered for you via Witterings of Westminster and couriered round.’
That was the name of Nigel’s wine merchants. They always sounded like something out of Dickens to me, but they certainly knew how to choose wines. I buzzed the courier in so he could carry the package upstairs. Sure enough, I was signing for a bottle of Bolly. From what I’d seen so far of Alex, he’d probably drink only one glassful. So maybe we’d leave it chilling until tomorrow morning’s brunch.
Nigel and Jan deserved a swift call to say I was back safe and sound and that their gift had arrived. Fortunately, Jan answered and I confided in her about the possibility I’d left a rather personal item in the guest bedroom.
‘Good job you told me, poppet,’ she said. ‘Otherwise, Dixie might have got more than she bargained for, turning up for duty Monday morning.’
Mrs Dixton. I’d temporarily forgotten Jan’s friendly cleaner. The thought of her opening the bedside drawer then brandishing my vibrator in her rubber-gloved hand was priceless. I knew Nigel would be ecstatic at the thought, but not everyone was as liberated as my aunt and uncle.
Jan assured me she’d hide my secret weapon in a safe place. But she warned she mightn’t be able to resist trying it out next time Nigel was away on business. As usual, we were laughing together and, as I replaced the phone, I reminded myself I really ought to make more effort to see the people of whom I was most fond. Viv was one of them, not to mention my folks. But first, I needed to check my messages.
There were four from Marcus on my answering machine, and I found two emails. They all seemed, it was true to say, keen. He was stepping up his pursuit but I would put a stop to this business once and for all on Monday when I’d tell him I’d moved on and that he should do the same.
Supper was sorted. And I was in the bath, dealing with the kind of chores that were a pleasure when anticipating such a session as I was. Every inch of my skin was sleek. Or would be soon, after the lashings of silky body lotion. This wasn’t so much an extravagance as an insurance premium. I once confided its price to Viv and she suggested holding a flag day to pay for my next bottle. There was only one store in town that stocked my favourite brand.
I wondered whether I could coax the son to stop using the father’s favourite cologne. But I didn’t know what excuse I could use. I wished Alex was here. I was so tempted to … tune-up. Instead, I climbed out of the tub and into my fluffy robe and was padding barefoot into the kitchen when I heard my mobile bleep. My heart did that tango thing again. Could it be Alex sending a text? But it was only 10.30. He’d probably be taking a bow after the final and very spectacular scene, the content of which I refuse to reveal, in case you intend seeing the show one day.
I picked up my mobile and checked. I’m parked close by. May I come up?
Furious, I texted Marcus back. I have nothing to say to you.
I stomped into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. A stalker was all I needed. Maybe I should ring Viv for a moan. Maybe I should ring Marcus and tell him to quit annoying me. My hand hovered over my phone when it buzzed again.
The text message consisted of just four words. I can taste you.
I imagined Alex back in his dressing room and about to leave the theatre. Forget Marcus: if he hung around much longer he’d see Alex arrive and hopefully put two and two together, given Marcus knew the ground-floor tenant was a sweet old lady who never had night callers. He’d rung the wrong buzzer on one occasion and I’d had to apologise to her.
I peeped through the slats of my blind, as I remembered doing on the stormy night when Marcus had arrived bearing flowers and news of his decision to drop me. What a favour he’d done me. I could see his car parked just up the road. Alex would be clearly visible in the street lighting when he pushed the button with my name beside it.
I turned away from the window, not wanting the love-rat to spot me and get any ideas of reconciliation. Went into the kitchen again and topped up my wine.
Please, Alex, don’t be long.
I rethought my wild idea about tampering with the trip switch – the electrics in the building could be temperamental, and I didn’t want to risk causing disruption to my elderly neighbour’s supply, nor to my own. After all, my lover was a West End entertainer, not a trained electrician.
I lit a candle while I waited. But when I heard the outside buzzer rip through the silence, my heart seemed to bang against my ribs. For a moment, I felt disorientated, then I hurried to the intercom. ‘Hello. Who’s this?’
‘Electrical maintenance at your service,’ said the sexiest voice in London. ‘I gather you have a frustrating problem needing immediate attention.’
‘Come on up,’ I instructed my visitor.
I rushed around switching off the lights ready for role-play. He must have taken the stairs three at a time. By the time he tapped on my door, apart from the gentle glow in the kitchen, the whole place was plunged into darkness.
‘Ow!’ Shit, that really, really hurt. Of all the times to stub my toe … I felt my way around the chair and limped towards the door.
‘Come in,’ I said, trying to sound calm as I hopped on one foot and rubbed my big toe against the calf of my other leg.
And at last he was there, within reach. We peered at each other through the gloom and Alex cracked up. ‘Oh … sweetheart, I’m so sorry to break the spell,’ he said. ‘It’s just that you’re amazing at detail. You should be working in theatre, you really should.
‘I didn’t mean to laugh,’ he said. ‘You know how I love your games.’ He put his arms around me as he pushed the door shut with one foot.
‘All I did was twitch my nose,’ I told him. But, as I melted into his arms, I couldn’t have cared less about make-believe. Because this was where I wanted to be, with his hands exploring inside my gown, making me forget my sore toe. I snuggled against him and liked what I could feel. All sorts of pulses were beating. His fingers found their own way downwards and I almost melted with desire.
Alex whispered against my ear. ‘Shall we forget this? I’ve done enough acting for tonight.’
I nuzzled his neck. ‘Can I offer you a glass of wine?’
‘Maybe later,’ he said.
I took his hand and led the way to the bedroom. The damned landline began to ring. I wished I’d pulled out the jack plug. No prizes for guessing who’d be calling.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that? I shan’t go away,’ said Alex.
‘I think it might be my ex,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell him to stop hassling me.’
Alex suddenly looked grim.
‘Wine’s in the fridge,’ I said, picking up the phone.
‘Laura, I’m sorry I turned up out of the blue,’ said Marcus. ‘I’ve walked almost as far as the river. I’m not stalking you. Truly, I’m not.’
‘You could’ve fooled me,’ I said. ‘Why would you think I’d give you the time of day after the way you treated me?’
‘Rowena made a fool of me. Bamboozled me. Used me. It was kind of like being under some kind of spell.’
‘Well go and play witches and wimps with someone else,’ I hurled at him.
‘You’re entitled to be cross.’
‘Marcus, please stop sending me texts. I don’t want emails, letters, smoke signals – I don’t want anything to do with you.’ I gulped, determined not to cry.
I’m not normally so emotional but I’d gone through a bizarre few weeks. Now I was home again. This time, with a chance at having a proper relationship because this time, I wasn’t just in lust. Jarratt might have wrecked the whole fabulous, fragile, burgeoning affair with Alex. But he hadn’t. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to allow Marcus to trip any switches.
A shadowy figure appeared at my side, gently touching my arm. I swear I was so nervy I almost jumped out of my skin.
‘Laura, sweetheart, whatever’s the matter?’
‘I can’t make him understand,’ I wailed.
‘Understand what?’
‘That I’m in love with you and there’s no way I’m going back to him!’
Alex sucked in his breath. Took the phone from me. ‘Go into the kitchen,’ he said. ‘Let me do a bit of man-to-man talking to this guy.’
I schlepped through to the kitchen and hit the light switch – nothing. Clearly the electrics hadn’t got the message that the role-play was over. I sighed to myself, then called Viv by candlelight to tell her I was back but living life dangerously.
‘Seems to me you need to chill out. From what I’ve heard, your stay in the country hasn’t been what you’d call restful.’
Wine dribbled down my chin. ‘You could say my emotions have been shot to pieces.’
‘I can’t believe you’re talking the lurv word after knowing this guy for, like, five minutes? You’re saying you wish he’d move in with you? That doesn’t sound like the Laura I know.’
‘It’s hard to explain. I’ve never felt like this before.’
‘Hmm. Marcus trying to make a comeback is proof how easy it is to get misled. He was all over you like air freshener. And you seemed pretty fraught when it ended. Come on, Laura, you know as well as I do about that first rush of lust. Everything’s buzzing. But you have to make sure you’re still waking up and thinking “Yes! He really is the one that I want.” Then is the time to think – notice I only said think – about moving in together.’
‘But –’
‘Take me, for instance. I couldn’t wait to get Leo under my duvet. When he moved in here after his accident, I was like Supernanny, Nigella Lawson, and Miss Whiplash rolled into one.’
It was an eye-watering image.
‘Inevitably,’ she said, ‘a bit of resentment appeared. I’d come in from work and he’d be thrilled to see me but I’d be the one making supper. He’d get to choose the TV channel. I was doing all the washing and the shopping and cleaning …’
This was turning into the revenge of the hormonal housewife. ‘Viv, the poor guy was out of action. Leo’s left leg was in plaster, for God’s sake. Alex is fully functioning.’ And how. ‘And Marcus is a disaster. The sex was great and he’s a good cook. I was highly miffed when he dumped me is all.’
‘I’m just making the point that too much proximity too soon is not necessarily a good thing.’
My mother couldn’t have done a better job. I contemplated getting gently squiffy, as my darling gran would say, while my best friend lectured me. But she’d got ears like a lynx. ‘Remember your units,’ she said, sounding like a government health warning. ‘You need all your wits about you this evening. Now, I’ll stay on the line and I want you to go and listen to what Alex is saying.’
‘OK. Just to please you.’
I tiptoed to the half-open door. Heard Alex say, ‘I know. Rowena sounds a whole lot of trouble – well, I sympathise with you, mate.’ He paused. ‘The thing is I may not have known Laura long but I’ve never felt like this before. She means the world to me but I’m going to have to convince her that I love her. My track record’s not exactly pristine.’
I almost stopped breathing. Wow. That should convince Viv.
‘I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,’ Alex said. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
A surge of joy filled me. Swiftly, I reassured Viv and rang off.
Alex came into the kitchen. ‘Marcus has backed off. Says to tell you he’s sorry for any hassle he’s caused.’
‘I’m sorry I came over so emotional,’ I said, moving cautiously forward.
‘I’m not,’ said Alex. ‘What you said about loving me suddenly made everything clear. I knew I fancied you big time. I knew I liked you because you’re funny and cute and lovable. But I didn’t actually know how much I loved you till you said what you did.’
‘Well, I do love you,’ I said. ‘Even though I can’t see you properly.’
‘Yeah? Is this better?’ He wrapped his arms around me. ‘The question is do I try and figure out what’s happened to the electricity or do I take you to bed?’
‘What a crazy night. I’m so sorry, Alex. Landing you with my ex. Putting a jinx on the electrics …’
At that moment, the lights came on and I heard the fridge rumble into life.
Alex’s grin was rueful. ‘Anyway, would I ever want a woman that wasn’t desired by every other guy in London?’ He hugged me tightly to him. Paradise.
‘Tired?’ I asked him as we clung together. ‘There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.’
‘Great.’ I felt his fingers warm on my tummy as he eased them under my top. ‘But you’re the first course.’
I took his hand and led him through into the bedroom. The bedside light glowed.
‘I mustn’t forget the dessert,’ I said. ‘Wait till you see my great way with desserts.’
We undressed one another, whispering, enjoying the anticipation. Then we couldn’t wait any longer, each of us determined to devour the other. It was hot. It was exciting. The tenderness, I knew, would come later but first there was a mutual, urgent need to satisfy. I came almost as soon as he’d prepared himself and gently slid inside me.
‘Go on, go on,’ I told him. I felt him thrust faster, pumping me as he got closer to his climax. I’d thought I’d fallen in love before. I’d tried to fall in love. Now I finally was in love and wrapping myself around Alex, trying to keep him within me as long as possible.
He called after me not to be long when I left him for a few moments, then laughed when he saw what I’d brought from the fridge.
‘Now,’ I said, lying down beside him. ‘Dessert first. You dish up. Then enjoy.’
Chapter Twenty
‘Don’t you think we should get up now?’
He pulled me on top of him. I licked his neck. And forgot to stop.
‘Look what you’ve done.’ He pushed my hand underneath the duvet.
I sighed, pretending reluctance. ‘I suppose I’d better deal with things.’
‘One more time, then,’ he said. ‘Oh my God, your tongue is just so …’
I raised my head. ‘Shush. I’m concentrating. Anyway, are we counting the times?’
‘No way,’ he said. ‘Need both hands for that.’
Sunday morning was all I’d dreamed about. Normally I hated that awkward, first-thing, grungy-mouthed feeling but, with Alex I felt at ease.
After we’d showered together and he’d teased me about needing to provide the other occupants of the building with earplugs, he went out to buy a newspaper, while I got dressed, still floating on my little pink cloud. When he returned, I knew we should make decisions, like where do we go from here? Stuff about our meals on weeknights and so on. It would be a big change for both of us. I couldn’t imagine eating dinner at 11 p.m. for six out of seven nights of the week. But equally I couldn’t bear to imagine eating my solitary supper in front of the television while Alex played Prime Minister three miles away. I wondered whether I could alter my hours; maybe apply to work from home one day a week. Work late at the office other days. There had to be a way.
‘Coffee smells good.’ He dropped the papers on the table. ‘Just want to check out the reviews. Then I thought we could go out for brunch. There’s a great place where I meet up with some of the cast if I’m in town on a Sunday.’
Just in time, I stopped myself from making a remark that could have come over as a tad picky. I’d been so looking forward to our first complete day on our own, enjoying Nigel’s fabulous champagne gift and some fresh orange juice then scrambled eggs. Maybe a walk in the park? And I was still intrigued about this secret Alex hadn’t yet told me. If it was what Ianthe had spoken about, I didn’t want him agonising over it. No, just act cool, I told myself. Enjoy the moment.
‘That sounds great,’ I said while he filled the mugs.
‘You know, you’re terrific. You and I together – I can’t tell you how excited I am just being with you. I love the way you let me be me.’ He hesitated. ‘Laura,’ he said. ‘I have a corporate gig tonight. I’m sorry, but it’s a long-standing booking and I can’t let these people down. I performed for them last year and they wanted me back. It’s only at Southall.’
At first I thought he’d said Solihull. Then it dawned on me. But even Southall sounded like the South Pole to me. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ve got stuff to do anyway.’ Then I thought that sounded a tad petulant.
He stroked my cheek. Kissed the tip of my nose. ‘From now on, I’ll be concentrating totally on the show. Except when I’m making love to you.’
I recalled that warning from Maxine, the first night I’d met her backstage. She talked about how a lot of women couldn’t handle Alex – couldn’t tolerate being unable to get under his skin.
‘I’d better get some clothes on, if we’re going out.’
He groaned. ‘How long am I going to be in a state of permanent hard-on, I wonder?’
‘Hopefully for about three decades.’ I headed for the bedroom.
Alex’s fave place had gone for an industrial design-vintage loft effect. Massive stainless steel pipes snaked across the high ceiling. Quirky prints were nailed to the sludge-coloured walls, and cushions in shades of grey, vivid mauve and deepest violet lolled on squishy black leather couches. At a window table sat a couple of guys in denims and deep conversation. Beside them sat a familiar figure, lost in thought.
I let go of Alex’s hand and rushed over. Didi had a long drink in front of her, crammed with lemon and ice cubes, and her almond-green top and short white leather skirt showed off her tan. She must have caught some rays while she’d been at home with her folks. But this time, it was her other half who was missing.
‘Hi, Didi,’ I said. ‘Nice tan.’
For a moment, she looked at me as if she couldn’t think who I was.
