Sexy in the City

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  She soon forgot the other diners, her injuries, and everything but the dance, until the music ended and Redmond caught her in a dramatic pose. Applause broke out, rippling across the restaurant. Lisa remembered herself and smiled and bowed for the audience. Redmond stood to one side, directing the applause towards Lisa, and as she gestured back, deflecting responsibility to the man who was, after all, in charge, she realised that for once she meant it. She knew he made her dance a million times better, look a million times better. With Jerry and the two or three others she’d danced with since Redmond, she’d been the stronger half of the couple, but with Redmond she was perfectly matched.

  She reached for his hand and drew him to centre stage to share the applause. He deserved it, she thought, smiling muzzily.

  As if in answer to her earlier wish, the music began again, this time a slow, gentle rumba. Plenty of opportunity to get her breath back, although it was a difficult dance too in its own way. Redmond certainly wasn’t out to make it easy for her. He began with their usual opening steps but soon abandoned them in favour of something she’d never done before. It wasn’t a surprise that he’d picked up some new steps while he’d been away, but she hadn’t expected him to throw them at her in front of a room full of people.

  He must have seen her panic because as he drew her into a close hold he leaned towards her to whisper, “It’s OK, just follow me. I won’t do anything you can’t keep up with. Trust me.” And despite the number of times he’d hurt her, confused her, broken her heart, at that moment, in his arms, listening to his warm reassuring voice, she did.

  She kept her eyes locked on his and her hand firm in his grasp and let him lead, and sure enough her feet followed easily as he led her through a complicated sequence that she suspected, if she’d let her eyes stray to the mirrors, would have looked perfectly stunning.

  The music ended too soon for her, but Redmond timed it perfectly so that she was caught in his arms as the last note faded away.

  There was a second of total silence as the music ended — the best accolade any performer can ask for, and one she’d experienced only a few times, and always with Redmond. In that short space of silence, he bent his head towards hers and as she looked up enquiringly he tightened his hold on her and brushed her lips with his. This time, under the spell of the music and the perfect partnership they had on the dance floor, she forgot to fight, and for a perfect moment there was nothing in the world but the new, beautiful feeling of his warm, soft lips on hers.

  Then applause broke out and the world came back. Redmond let her go, caught her hand, and led her back, not to their table, but to the lounge setting, where their drinks had been set out for them on one of the coffee tables.

  “That was nice,” Lisa murmured, curling up in the corner of the sofa and fighting a sudden wave of sleepiness.

  “You danced well. Pity I can’t feed you a few drinks and a nice dinner before the competition. I thought dinner and a drink would make all the difference to you, make you relax a bit more.”

  All at once, Lisa was alert again. So that was what all this was about. Wine her and dine her and treat her nicely so that she’d perform for him.

  “Jesus, Redmond Carrington, you are a manipulative shit at times.”

  Redmond stared. She supposed he’d never heard her use language like that before but then she’d never had occasion to.

  “Lisa,” he stammered, looking almost believably sorry, but she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She couldn’t take any more of this up and down, hot and cold, fake/real relationship. She needed to get out.

  “No, don’t. You’ve said enough today. No wonder you wouldn’t back me up with Tiffany. I’m nothing to you, am I, except a dancing robot? Well, I’ve had it with this. I’m going home. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow. Don’t call me before then.”

  She stood up. He caught at her but she wrenched her hand free of his grasp and fled.

  Chapter 7

  Outside, she realised she’d forgotten her coat but she wasn’t about to go back. When she got to the underground station, she was in luck. A train was just about to leave in her direction, and she flung herself through the closing doors. There was no chance of Redmond following, even if he bothered coming after her, which she thought unlikely.

  Once she’d got her breath back, she realised she felt ridiculous with her excessive makeup and the high heels she’d been dancing in. She wasn’t overly made-up for a typical evening, but on Sunday night there weren’t many clubbers out and about, and she was conscious of attracting more attention than she’d have liked. Still, everybody in the carriage looked amused rather than threatening, and for once she’d take a taxi at the other end rather than walking the last five minutes dressed like this. Apart from anything else, her shoes were going to start giving her blisters before long if she actually tried walking in them.

  Sometimes you had to wait for a taxi at this time of night, but for once there were a couple waiting in line when she got off the train. She slipped into the front seat of the first one in line, and gave her destination. Belatedly, as the driver pulled out into the traffic, she wished she’d sat in the back. She didn’t normally worry too much, but having put on a short skirt instead of her usual jeans after the filming, she felt uncomfortably exposed. She tried, without being too obvious about it, to keep her distance from where the taxi driver’s hand rested on the gear lever.

  He chatted the way taxi drivers did: had she been out with friends? Had a nice evening? Did she own her flat? How long had she lived there? Did her boyfriend live with her? She lied in answer to that last question — she always did. It was the only lie she permitted herself, but friends had convinced her it was a necessary one for a woman living on her own.

  Finally the taxi driver turned into her road.

  “This’ll do fine,” she said hastily, realising that she didn’t want him pulling into the dimly lit courtyard outside her flat. At least here there were people passing, and cars, so if he tried anything she had a chance of getting help.

  She didn’t know why she’d suddenly got so suspicious — he hadn’t said or done anything untoward, but something about the way he looked at her and his tone of voice gave her an uneasy feeling. When he showed no signs of slowing down, she realised her suspicions had been well founded.

  “I’ll take you to your door, miss,” he said firmly, and Lisa prayed that was all he had in mind.

  When the car pulled up outside her flat, she already had one hand on the door handle.

  “How much is that?”

  She reached for her handbag with her right hand, while tugging the door handle with her left. The door didn’t budge.

  “For you? How about a kiss? I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  She hadn’t looked at him all the way back, but now she found herself noticing every detail of his unshaven chin, dark eyes, and unkempt black brows. She’d heard of rape and kidnap ordeals that began this way. His thick-knuckled fingers crept across her leg, making her skin crawl, and she wanted to slap him off, but what if he had a knife?

  She tried to keep her voice level and polite, not wanting to risk upsetting him and making him still more unstable.

  “Thanks, but if it’s all the same to you, I’m happy to pay.” She dug in her purse for a note.

  “And if it’s not the same to me?” he leered.

  “Please, don’t,” she begged. Inspiration struck. “My boyfriend will be home any minute.”

  Mercifully, car headlights swung into the close behind her. Surely now he’d let her go.

  “That’ll be him now,” she said desperately, as another taxi pulled up behind them and a tall figure stepped out.

  The driver, unconvinced, lunged for her, his clumsy hand fumbling her breast. She heard a scream and realised it was her own voice. Then there was a bang on the window, and the drive
r started away abruptly.

  The driver snatched the note from her hand and released the door with a click . Then Redmond was hauling her out onto the pavement. Before she’d had time to wonder how he came to be there, the taxi squealed off into the night and she was crying in Redmond’s arms.

  “Bastard! Are you OK? What happened? What did he do? Shall I call the police?”

  Words tumbled across the top of Lisa’s head but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth respond. For the second time that evening, she was helpless, sobs shaking her shoulders and tears pouring down her face. Redmond held her tightly and this time, finally, she relaxed into his protective embrace. They stood like that for a long time. Redmond’s taxi had gone and eventually they’d been still so long that the security light on the front of the building went out.

  In the darkness, Lisa sobbed against Redmond’s chest while he stood very still, one arm locked around her lower back and the other hand gently stroking and soothing her shoulders. His hand was warm, and suddenly she noticed the chill of the night against her bare skin and found herself shivering violently.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Redmond steered her towards the door. She let him take her handbag, fish out her keys, and lead her indoors.

  Lisa watched him wrestling with the door of her flat.

  “You have to pull it towards you as you turn the key,” she explained. Somehow this piece of everyday information shook her back into her normal world and she looked around her as if for the first time since she emerged from the taxi.

  Redmond gave the door a tug and it fell open. He held the door and gestured for Lisa to go inside. She paused in the doorway, looking up at him in bewilderment.

  “What were you doing here?”

  “You left … ” He looked down at his empty hands and began to laugh.

  “What’s funny?”

  “The joke’s on me. You left your coat at the restaurant. I was going to give it back, but it’s not here. I must have left it in the taxi. I’ll ring them tomorrow and arrange to pick it up once I’ve got my car back. This evening wasn’t very well planned. I shouldn’t have driven to the restaurant and then had those cocktails.”

  Lisa was still a few steps behind, and not sure she’d understood him correctly. “You came all the way here by taxi to give me my coat?”

  Lisa led him into the kitchen and put the kettle on out of force of habit. It was usually the first thing she did when she came in.

  “Well, and to make sure you were OK. You did seem to be in a bit of a state tonight, if you don’t mind my saying so, and I wanted to be sure you got home all right. Turns out it’s a good thing I did.”

  Lisa mechanically put teabags and milk in two mugs before remembering that Redmond took his tea black.

  “Sorry. I’m not quite with it.” She gave a rueful smile.

  “I should be doing that. Why don’t you sit down? Or phone the police if you feel up to it.”

  “What’s the point? So I tell them a taxi driver tried to kiss me, didn’t threaten me or hurt me, and drove off when you banged on the window. What are they going to do about it?”

  “Nothing, probably, but at least they’ll have the information on file to use against him if he tries it on someone else.”

  “I suppose so.” Lisa perched on a stool and watched numbly as Redmond took over the tea-making. “I don’t have the car registration anyway. And I can’t remember what the guy looked like, except he had black hair and big hands.”

  She shuddered, remembering the feel of his thick fingers creeping across her skin.

  Redmond caught the movement and was at her side in a moment, pressing a mug of tea into her hands and slipping an arm around her shoulders.

  She sipped the hot, sweet drink gratefully.

  “Are you still cold?” Redmond asked. “Shall I find you a jumper?”

  Truthfully, she was warm enough with his arm around her, but it wasn’t wise to sit like this any longer than she had to. She waved her arm towards the jumper hanging over the back of a chair, and Redmond immediately dropped it into her hand.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Redmond asked earnestly.

  She gave him her tea to hold while she put the jumper on and thought about what she wanted done.

  She supposed he was right about calling the police.

  “Find the number for the police station?” she suggested.

  Watching as he found and dialed the number, she noticed again how much at home he looked here. She thought he must have a lot of experience of settling into other women’s homes.

  Just because he’d turned up at the right moment tonight, she mustn’t let herself be fooled into thinking she mattered to him, at least as anything more than a friend and dancing partner. If she’d been raped or murdered on the way home, or fallen down a flight of stairs at the underground, she’d not have been much use to him in the competition. That was why he was here.

  Redmond held out the phone to her and she took it just as someone at the other end picked up.

  “I’d like to report an incident,” she said, wondering just which cheesy cop show she’d picked up that phrase from. Actually, she wouldn’t like to report the incident. She’d like it if it had never happened.

  She went through the police officer’s questions as if completing an exam paper. Many of them she couldn’t answer, and she kept wondering if the answers would come to her when she woke in the middle of the night.

  When she’d answered everything she could, Redmond gestured to be passed the phone. She handed it over, wondering what he was going to add.

  “I might be able to fill in some more details, if that would be helpful,” he suggested politely.

  Evidently the police officer agreed, because he then described in detail the taxi that had dropped Lisa off, including the registration, colour, and a scratch on the rear wing. The driver was apparently about six one — as best as Redmond could judge with him sitting down — dark skinned and haired, unshaven (Lisa remembered that but had forgotten to say it), and had a scar on the back of one arm.

  As Redmond hung up, Lisa looked at him in astonishment.

  “Did you used to be in the CIA or something?”

  Redmond grinned. “Those that ask no questions … ” he said, tapping the side of his nose in what she was sure he knew was an absolutely infuriating way.

  “Redmond,” she said, warningly. She was in no mood for jokes.

  He sobered instantly. “No, but I did work as a security guard for a while in Florida.”

  She nodded. That made sense. More sense than him being a secret CIA agent. She didn’t think they took on foreign nationals anyway.

  “More tea?” Redmond asked, noticing her empty mug.

  “I’ll do it,” Lisa said, standing up and slipping in her silly shoes on the smooth kitchen floor. She kicked her shoes off impatiently and padded over to the kettle.

  “You sit down,” Redmond said, in a tone that permitted no argument. “You’ve had a shock. This is one time you really can’t object to being looked after.”

  “Why would I object?”

  Redmond sighed heavily, as if she was an exasperating toddler asking silly questions. “You know,” he said.

  “No, I don’t know. I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

  “You mean you haven’t noticed you have this whole independence thing going? Like, I’ll pay for that, I’ll get that, I’ll do that, no don’t hold the door for me … ”

  Lisa gave an embarrassed laugh as the truth of what he’d said hit home.

  She did hate having things done for her. Unlike the girls at work, she’d always had to do things for herself, and she was proud of it. She didn’t want anything compromising her independence — especially not Redmond, with his forceful personality, his newf
ound wealth, and his easy, assured way of taking charge of any situation. In fact, she thought guiltily, once she’d got over the initial shock of the taxi incident, she’d started to think she could have handled things herself, and had almost resented him for turning up and taking away her chance to prove her independence.

  She threw up her hands. “OK, I admit it. You’re right. So you’re in charge. What do I do now?”

  “Go and sit down somewhere comfortable while I make some more tea. Relax. Put some nice music on or something.”

  Lisa stuck some Bach in the CD player and stretched out on the sofa.

  She must have drifted off because all of a sudden she felt a hand brush her leg, and she yelped and flinched away. Opening her eyes, she found Redmond settling a blanket over her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. I didn’t want you getting cold. You’ve had a shock.”

  “So you keep saying,” Lisa snapped. “I didn’t need reminding.”

  Then she felt guilty for snapping.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I don’t mean to bite your head off. You did give me a scare. I still feel … I don’t know … ” She groped for the word. “Nasty. Grubby. When you touched me, it reminded me of him touching me. Yuk!”

  Redmond looked at her with deep concern.

  “It’s OK,” she reassured him. “It’s nothing, really. I just wasn’t thinking straight. I was half asleep. What happened to that tea?”

  Redmond waved a hand towards the coffee table, where the mug was steaming away. “Shall I pass it?”

  Lisa was just about to snap, “I can get it, I’m not an invalid,” when she remembered his earlier comment about her stubborn independence. Well, why not take advantage of having a willing slave for the evening?

  “Please.”

  She stretched out a hand, and this time when his fingers brushed hers, she forced herself not to flinch. It wasn’t as hard as she’d feared. Apparently, awake, her body knew the difference between Redmond and a lecherous taxi driver.

 

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