by M J Hardy
Quickly, I belt it tightly around my waist and head to open the door where I see a woman smiling from the hallway.
“I’m sorry to disturb you madam, but I have a gift for you. Compliments of the Lotus Lake Hotel and Spa.”
I blink as she thrusts the biggest bouquet of lotus blooms at me that blind me with their beauty. The scent hits me almost immediately, and I stare at her in surprise as she laughs. “We want to welcome you and hope that your stay here will be unforgettable.”
“Thank you, they are beautiful.”
She nods. “If you need anything at all, you only have to call. My name is Chloris and I am the housekeeper.”
“Thank you, um, Chloris. You are very kind.”
She smiles. “Dinner is on the terrace at 7pm, I’m sure you must be hungry.”
“I am, thank you.”
As she leaves, I head back into the room and place the vase on the side and admire the exotic bouquet. I almost have to pinch myself because things like this don’t happen to me. I’m a hairdresser from Luton and people like me don’t live this life. I could get used to it, though.
Returning to my sun lounger, I stretch out in contentment and just have the delicious thought of dinner to look forward to before a cosy night’s sleep in the huge emperor sized bed that we destroyed within minutes of getting here.
Thinking of my husband brings a smile to my face. How lucky am I? Jack was always the man every girl wanted. He stood out in a crowded room and drew admiring looks and wistful expressions. He was popular and certainly had his pick, but for some reason he was interested in me. He used to drop by the salon I worked in and make me laugh. Plague me for a date until I relented. Everyone warned me about what a player he was, but I was so blinded by him, I shrugged their comments aside. He was different with me. Kind, considerate and loving.
There have been a few indiscretions over the years. Once I almost left him. However, I was persuaded to give him another shot, us another shot, and I’m so glad I did because I am happy with Jack, just not complete.
Sighing, my thoughts return to the couple on the plane and I wonder what they’re doing now. Probably tucking their daughters into bed right now and planning their activities for the next day. Maybe that will be Jack and me next year, I certainly hope so, and maybe this holiday is the catalyst for change. Fingers crossed, anyway.
Chapter 8
Evelyn
Charles escorted me to the spa, and that alone irritated me. It’s almost as if he doesn’t think I can find my own way which proves how little he thinks of me.
When I get there, he leaves and slips me the key card. “Take this, I have a meeting with Mr Wheeler to attend.”
“He’s here.” I look at him in surprise and he nods.
“Yes, I had a text asking me to meet him in his office. He flew in this morning and has a few things to discuss. I’m not sure how long the meeting will last, so you should take this and get changed for dinner. It wouldn’t surprise me if he asked us to dine with him, so be prepared for that.”
“But I thought this was a holiday?”
“It is, but men like us are always working, surely you should know that better than most, darling, after all, it’s what pays for your lifestyle.”
“I can work.”
Once again, he places his finger on my lips, effectively silencing me and whispers, “You don’t need to. You just need to be beautiful and that gives me great pleasure. So, go and be beautiful, my darling, and leave the boring bit to me.”
The frustration is tearing me up inside as he heads off and I feel like screaming. Be beautiful, what the hell? I am so done with him and this stupid pretty life he has all mapped out. I’m tempted to cut off my hair and turn up to dinner in a tracksuit just to show him he can’t control me.
“Excuse me, madam, your masseuse is waiting.”
The calm, even tones of the therapist bring me back to reality and I nod.
“Lovely, thank you.”
As I follow her, I look around and note that the spa is obviously state-of-the-art because it appears that no expense has been spared. I am shown to a private room where I change into a robe and special slippers. I am instructed to lie back on a recliner and sip green tea as I fill in the usual questionnaire about my health and any allergies.
Maybe I do need to de-stress because the way I’m feeling, I’m liable to throttle my husband, so I lean back and close my eyes and try to reach my happy place, although as time goes on, I’m losing sight of where that is.
The piped music lulls me into a false state of serenity and by the time the masseuse finds me I am almost chilled.
“Follow me, madam.”
She smiles pleasantly and I nod and do as she says and follow her to a darkened room and inhale the relaxing scent of jasmine and eucalyptus that fills the room. As I lie face down on the bench, she slips the robe from my shoulders and says in a whisper, “Please relax.”
Closing my eyes, I give in to the moment and let her magic take effect.
Whoever this woman is, she’s good at what she does because the stress just falls off me as she works her magic fingers. There is nothing but perfect solitude as she kneads my back and shoulders with sweet smelling oils as the music transports me to Utopia.
The massage lasts for thirty minutes and by the time it’s over, I feel reborn. Even my anger towards Charles has dissipated and I feel very different to how I came in.
By the time I leave, I feel extremely chilled and ready for the evening ahead and make my way to the lift. As I wait, I notice the guy from the plane heading my way, dressed in shorts and a vest, with a towel wrapped around his neck. My eye is drawn to his rock-hard biceps and the sweat staining his vest, with a smattering of dark chest hair poking through that calls to the woman in me.
He stops beside me and smiles, his piercing blue eyes appraising me as they run the length of my body.
“Have you called the lift?”
He smiles and I nod. “Um, yes.”
He carries on looking and I feel the heat tearing through me as he devours me with that one look alone.
“I’m Jack and I would shake your hand, but I’m guessing you would thank me not to.”
He laughs softly and I join him. “Probably for the best. I’m Evelyn.”
“Pretty name for a beautiful woman.”
I blush and look down and luckily, the lift arrives and I hold my breath as we step inside and he leans across and presses the floor he needs, before saying, “What number?”
“Five, the top floor.”
My voice sounds breathy and I mentally shout at myself. I couldn’t be more obvious if I held up a banner and said, ‘I want you.’
He fixes me with a molten look and says lightly, “This place is amazing, are you here for the week?”
He leans against the mirrored glass and I shift on the spot, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“Yes, are you?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t even try to disguise the fact he is lusting after my body as he licks his lips and stares at my breasts. “So, lovely lady, is that your husband with you?”
“Yes, and I’m guessing you’re with your wife.” I raise my eyes as I stare at his wedding ring and he rolls his eyes.
“For my sins.”
“Why?”
He runs his fingers through his hair. “You know what it’s like, familiarity breeds contempt, and quite honestly we’re hanging by a thread. I suppose this holiday came in the nick of time because we certainly need something to spice up our marriage. I’m guessing you don’t have that same problem.”
“No, I don’t.”
I glare at him but he obviously sees something different in my expression because he shifts closer and says huskily, “I saw you staring at me.”
“I can assure you, I didn’t.”
To my surprise, he lifts his hand and strokes my face lightly and as he leans in, I feel his hot breath against my lips as he says huskily, “I saw you
.”
His lips are so close, one false move and they would connect with mine and I suppose it’s the hint of danger, the forbidden nature of this and the recklessness that makes me lean closer and whisper, “What if I did?”
He pushes forward until my back is pressed against the wall and touches my lips lightly with his. “Maybe we should see where that attraction leads us.”
My heart is beating so fast and I haven’t felt this exhilarated in years. My body has been pampered and my mind is a mess because I want to kiss this man so badly it physically hurts.
The lift stops and he pulls away and as the doors open, he looks at me longingly, pressing his finger on the open button, before whispering, “What are we going to do about it?”
God knows where my sanity has gone, but I reach across and press the close button and as the lift doors shut, he reaches out and pushes me hard against the wall and smothers my lips with his. His tongue enters my mouth and I kiss him back with a fierceness that surprises me. His hand tangles in my hair and grips it hard, and he punishes my mouth in a dominant show of passion. I feel so weak with longing I almost can’t breathe, and as the lift stops on my floor, I am almost tempted to drag him with me to my room. It’s only the thought of Charles walking in that prevents me because I am so lost in the moment, I would agree to anything he demands.
He pulls me back inside the lift and devours my lips again and growls, “This is fate, Evelyn, do you feel it?”
I nod, my eyes so bright with passion I almost can’t see straight. He whispers, “Meet me in the gym after dinner.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
He pushes me out and grins wickedly, saying as the door closes. “You will find a way.”
As the lift disappears, I stand watching it, reeling at what I’ve done. What just happened? That was so unlike me, it was as if the devil danced away with my soul.
As I turn away, I feel a tingle inside as I remember his lips on mine and despite my shame, I wouldn’t change a thing. That was the single most exciting thing to ever happen to me, and like a drug, I want more.
Chapter 9
Evelyn
As soon as I get to my room, I hit the shower, desperate to erase the scent of a man from my body. What was I thinking, what have I done? Despite my shame, I feel so invigorated, alive for the first time in my life, and it’s because of him. Jack.
I don’t buy his story for one minute. If his marriage is hanging by a thread, mine must be dead and buried because I saw how he was with his wife. That thought alone sobers me up because of her. Thinking of the attractive woman who smiled so sweetly makes me feel ashamed. How could I kiss her husband, how could he kiss me? I’m a fool, a weak-willed idiot who let her own unhappiness drive her to the unthinkable.
Meet me after dinner. How can I? How can I not? Despite my shame and self-loathing, I want to go. I want to feel the same adrenalin rush only something forbidden can give you.
“Evelyn, darling, are you here?”
Quickly, I turn off the shower jets and wrap myself in a towel, hoping to god Charles doesn’t sense something’s wrong. “In here.”
I call out and he opens the door and looks very pleased with himself.
“Did you have a nice time, darling?”
“Um, lovely thank you.”
He nods and shrugs off his shirt and looks at himself critically in the mirror.
“I should really use the gym here; I’ve heard its state-of-the-art and I could certainly use some tips.”
I freeze as my mind screams to me that he knows, but he just laughs and pats his imaginary stomach. “I’ll sign up for a session with the personal trainer tomorrow. I’ve got to keep my woman interested, after all.”
He turns and steps towards me and snatches the towel from my body and I stare at him in surprise. “What...”
Pulling me close, he dips his head to my neck and whispers, “I’ve been neglecting you. Maybe I should remedy that.”
My mind is a mess as he gently nips my neck, and I hate that I feel a shiver of revulsion pass through me.
Luckily, a knock on the door interrupts his moment of passion and he sighs and pulls away. “Sorry, darling, maybe later.”
He leaves me standing naked in the bathroom and closes the door softly behind him.
Grabbing the robe, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and feel so guilty I could cry. What happened in the lift was a moment of madness, something that can never be repeated, and I am so not going to meet Jack later because that will be the last time we are alone together, for all our sakes.
It takes me a few minutes to compose myself and as I head into the room, I see Charles looking at a sheaf of papers. “What are those?”
He looks up and smiles ruefully. “My homework, it would seem.”
“What are you talking about?”
I feel slightly miffed and he shrugs. “The result of my meeting with Ben. He has asked me to peruse the plans of a new venture he intends on developing. I’m sorry, darling, it looks as if our plans will have to take a back seat for now.”
“What plans?”
He looks mildly irritated as he stares at me with an impatient look. “Sex, darling. Isn’t that where we were headed? Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you have a brain inside that head of yours.”
He turns back to the papers, leaving me bristling with anger. How dare he talk to me like that, the sanctimonious beast?
His attention is now firmly on his papers and so I grab a sundress and haul it over my head and slip on my sandals, before saying angrily, “I’m going for a walk.”
“Don’t be long.”
He doesn’t even look up and I don’t answer him and just slam the door on my way out, feeling the tears well up behind my eyes.
I hate him. I hate my husband and I have done for some time.
It feels so lonely being me. All around me couples get on and live their lives with laughter and shared desires. I am just an object, a plaything for my husband to pick up and put down whenever he has the time.
I wander blindly down the hallway and head for the stairs, the lift too much of a sordid memory to deal with right now.
As I head downstairs, I wonder what the answer is. Charles and I have been married for ten years. I gave up all my friends because he didn’t like them and made it awkward for me to arrange dates and have them over. My family live in Spain and adore him, and the only job I ever had was working for him, which ultimately chained me to his side forever.
At first it was wildly exciting. An affair with the boss, a good looking, attentive, desirable boss. I was young and impressionable and fell completely in love with him. I thought I had it all, and I suppose I did. As the marriage progressed, I fell under his spell and did everything I could to please him. It didn’t take long and I forgot who I was anymore and just became Mrs Charles Washington, the woman behind the man. Soon, I lost my mind and deferred to him in every way. He makes me feel stupid, empty headed and not worthy of heated discussion and debate. I am a pretty doll he has moulded into his perfect image of a woman. Plastic surgery, breast enhancements, you name it, he’s paid for the lot and our home is no different. A show home, a place to exist, not live.
Now I’ve woken up and decided it’s not for me, I don’t know what to do about it because where will I go and how will I live? I hate that I have allowed myself to become a kept woman with no mind of her own, and I can’t see a way out of this.
As soon as I reach the reception area, I spy the double doors leading to the pool. It looks so inviting I almost wish I’d worn my bikini and could take a calming dip. Maybe I would stay under the water and never resurface. That would solve all my problems – wouldn’t it?
I make my way outside and worry about the direction my thoughts are heading. Have I really reached that point where death is more attractive than living? Would I seriously use that as an escape plan because to close my eyes and never wake up is looking mighty attractive right about now?
As I head into the brilliant sunshine, I feel its warm rays calming my skin and take a deep breath. I need to relax, calm my mind and work my problem through rationally, and with a maturity I appear to have lost somewhere along the way.
“Evelyn.” Looking up, I see Emma waving from a sun-bed and she smiles, looking so kind I gravitate straight to her.
“Hi, Emma, this looks nice.”
“It certainly is. I’ve had three cocktails already because a super good looking waiter keeps on feeding them to me.”
She winks and gestures to the bed beside her. “If you take a seat, no doubt he’ll materialise out of the shadows and bring you one.”
As I position myself on the sun-bed, I look around with interest and note there are only a few other people here. “This is all a little strange, don’t you think?” Emma says in a whisper.
“What is?”
“This place. It’s so empty. I mean, I know we’re the first guests, test pilots for want of another description, but it’s almost too good to be true.”
“I suppose it is.”
Emma lowers her voice. “I mean, my room is seriously impressive and the welcome gift was a little over the top if you ask me.”
“Welcome gift?”
“Yes, the gorgeous cocktail and note telling me to ask for anything I want. In fact, I’ve already drunk so much I think they’re trying to lull me into an alcoholic haze for a good review.”
She laughs lightly and I say enviously, “Lucky you, I don’t think we had the same note.”
“Oh, that’s odd, maybe they’ll deliver it later.”
“Perhaps.”
I stare at the couple across from us and Emma laughs softly. “That couple are textbook.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are here together but hardly say two words to each other. They don’t really interact, which is why I think they must have been married for a while. She’s always texting, or surfing the web on her phone and he just sleeps and then dives into the pool. If they do speak, she looks annoyed, as I said, classic married life.”