Of Body And Soul

by L. J. Valentine

  Listless, but awake, she yearned for a conqueror and imagined herself stretched out beside Kurt, abandoning herself to him. She looked down at her hardened nipples and smiled. Her senses throbbed with the strength, feel and scent of him. She closed her eyes.

  Andrea woke with a start and shivered from the cold water. "Oh, no,” she shouted. “How long have I been here?” She jumped out of the tub, grabbed a bath towel and ran to the bedroom. She glanced at the clock on the table beside the sleigh bed. Seven o'clock. She had an hour to get ready. Rushing back to the bathroom, she pulled out her blow-dryer, bent forward and let her hair fall, fingering it until it dried. Throwing back her head, her hair tumble to her shoulders. She applied a soft makeup, making her skin glow and her eyes pop. She tore clothes from the closet, looked and rejected—looked and rejected as they piled on the bed. "What am I going to wear?" She felt like a schoolgirl going on her first date.

  Finally, she settled on a cinnamon cashmere sweater dress, pencil slim that reached down to the calves of her beautiful legs. Dark brown suede boots and a matching shoulder bag, a silk Chanel scarf and gold looped earrings completed the outfit.

  She was ready and waiting when she heard his knock. She glanced at her watch. He's been punctual all week. I like that, she thought.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Hi," she said. A blush of pleasure rose to her cheeks when he handed her a bouquet of purple violets, her favorites. At that moment, she knew more than ever that she was in love with him.

  Kurt stood in the doorway, taking in her beauty. "Hi." He entered the living room and closed the door behind him. "You look incredible." His admiring gaze delighted her.

  When he took her in his arms, his kisses were gentle. Then they became more demanding as her body pressed against him. He massaged her mouth with provocative insistence, parting her lips and with a lazy, sensuous movement, his tongue entered her mouth.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the explosion of his kiss. She pulled away with a tearing reluctance and stood arms length from him. "Would you care for a drink?" she asked.

  He moved even farther away. "I see Johnny Walker Red. That would be great with a little water on the side, please."

  Andrea walked over to the bar. She felt his gaze follow her and shafts of electricity coursed through her. She leaned against the bar to steady herself and proceeded to fix the drinks. Her hands trembled and she spilled more than she poured. Why is he having such an effect on me? she thought. She tried to wipe up the spills before he could see them.

  "Can I help?"

  He was so close—close enough to feel his breath on her neck. Goose bumps ran across her neck and arms.

  He took the drinks from her. "Here, let me carry these to the table, before you drop them on the floor."

  When he lifted the glasses, she realized he was just as nervous as she was. His hands shook briefly. He took a large swallow from his drink and then placed the glasses on the mahogany cocktail table, in front of the sofa. He settled into its soft comfort and held his hand out to her, inviting her to sit next to him.

  "You know, we make a good pair. I hope our courtship isn't going to be this nerve- wracking." The smoothness of his voice was like the smoothness of silk. "The first time I saw you at Emily's, I knew instantly you were who I wanted. I can't imagine my life without you."

  A smile played at the edges of her mouth. She took a sip from her glass. "Where are we going for dinner?" she asked, trying to suppress her excitement.

  "Dinner can wait." A sensuous smile came to his lips, as his hand skimmed down the length of her arm. His mouth brushed provocatively over her cheek and ear.

  As he played with her ear, her hand caressed his thigh, enjoying and allowing the sensuous response to take over her body. “No.” She pulled away, flustered by the extended contact. ""No," she said, with more certainly.

  "Damn it, Andrea, what's the matter? We've been playing this game all week. I know you want me as badly as I want you."

  "Yes, that's true," she said breathlessly. "I admit it, but Kurt, I don't want to make the same mistake I made with Jason. He swept me off my feet and in a few weeks we were into a relationship that lasted until now. Please, give me some time, some space," she sighed.

  The mere sight of her moved him and he knew if he proceeded at this pace, he would lose her for sure. He'd have to wait for her to come to him. He glanced at his watch. "We'd better go or we'll lose our reservation,” he said reluctantly. He looked into her eyes and saw the love that flowed from them. Gently, he kissed her cheek, grabbed their coats and escorted her out the door.

  They walked quietly to the elevators and out to the street. The night, cold and clear, helped them both check their emotions. She held his arm as they walked over to the Wildflower Restaurant.

  "Let me take your coat, and I'll give it to the coat-check,” he said softly. When he returned to her side, she took his hand and they walked over to the desk.

  The maître d' bowed slightly.

  "Purcell, Kurt Purcell."

  "This way, please."

  "The restaurant is lovely, isn't it?" She needed to break the silence, no matter how trivial her remark sounded.

  "Yes it . . . Excuse me, I reserved that particular table in the corner." Kurt directed his eyes and headed to a banquette, along a wall, secluded by ficus and young white birch trees.

  "Sorry, sir," he said and led Kurt and Andrea across the dining room. The restaurant, a gathering spot for celebrities, bustled with people and low keyed noise. The reverberation from the white baby grand sent sounds of jazz pulsating across the room. The pianist looked as if he thoroughly enjoyed his captive audience, and seduced them with his rendition of "Body and Soul."

  "Interesting mix of people," she said, noticing a few artists and writers she'd met in Manhattan. Andrea, accustomed to stares when she entered a room, walked through the room, smiling and nodding with her Grace Kelly-like beauty. Kurt reacted to the stares with a possessive arm around her waist. As the stares followed them, the pressure around her waist increased.

  When they approached the table, Andrea could not believe the spectacle before her. The table glowed with flickering candlelight.

  At Andrea's place setting, a huge Steuben bowl, filled with indigo violets, covered most of the table. The maître d' pulled the table away from the banquette to let Andrea sit and then quickly tried to replace it.

  "I plan to sit with the lady," Kurt said as a matter of fact.

  "Very good, sir," the man said and immediately reset the table to accommodate him.

  Andrea slid in and Kurt settled in beside her. His thigh touched the length of hers and a jolt of longing forced her to look away from him.

  The staggering challenge of his nearness brought her attention back to what was around her. She focused on the flowers, the candles, and the bottle of champagne, nestled in a silver bucket; anything but the nearness of him.

  The waiter opened the bottle for Kurt's inspection. "Dom Perignon, as you ordered, sir."

  "Thank you." Kurt nodded his approval as the waiter uncorked the champagne, filled their glasses and withdrew.

  "Shall we drink to us and our future?" he suggested.

  "To us," she said softly. She tasted the wine. Mme, delicious. "You are remarkable. How did you know what my favorite flowers were and also my favorite champagne?"

  "There's a lot I know about you. You've been a part of my life for the last five years, even though I haven't been a part of yours.

  "I'm impressed," she said lightly.

  A quiver of a smile etched his mouth. "You can start asking your questions about me if you'd like."

  She lifted her chin and laughed a short laugh touched with embarrassment. "Where do I begin?"

  The waiter arrived with the menus and the intrusion gave her a few moments reprieve.

  Kurt lifted the menu from her hands. "May I do the ordering for you?"

  She looked at him bewildered, but nodded in agreement.

  "W
e both will have the Artichoke Soup and the Avocado-Belgian Endive Salad with vinaigrette dressing." His eyes turned to Andrea. "The lady will have the Pompano Au Gros Sel Sauce Noilly, and I will have the Panache of Salmon in Sweet Pepper Butter. No potatoes for either of us, just the vegetables. Oh, and also, Pouilly Fuisse with our dinners."

  Andrea, surprised by his knowledge of her likes and dislikes, started to fan herself with her napkin. "I'm flattered. I can't believe it. Do you always go to such lengths for a lady?"

  "No. Only when that lady means as much to me as you do." His arm rested across her shoulders and he gently played with the hair at the nape of her neck.

  Her skin felt hot and wet, while her stomach was as queasy as if she just gotten off a roller coaster ride. "Please, could you let me out? I need to find the powder room." Her voice quivered. "Are you okay? Your cheeks are flushed." He touched her hand for a brief moment.

  "Yes, I’m fine," she smiled weakly. "I think I drank my champagne too quickly. I need to run a little cold water on my wrists. Be back in a minute."

  When Andrea entered the powder room, she ran over to the sink and shoved her wrists under cold water. The attendant handed her a white linen hand towel, which she immediately ran under the faucet, then patted it on her forehead and face. She sat for a few moments, head thrown back, the wet towel across her forehead, letting the cold compress take effect. She could feel the tension fading.

  "Andrea, is that you?"

  Andrea opened her eyes to see Grayson, standing over her.

  "What a surprise," Andrea said, as she held the cold compress on the back of her neck. "I thought you were here only for the weekend? Why didn't you call me?

  "You were supposed to call me, remember? Anyway, my friend insisted I stay a few more days. The weather was glorious and so . . . " Grayson threw up her hands, "I decided to stay. And you?"

  "Remember I told you about meeting my friend Emily's brother outside the airport, well my five-day trip turned into a week. I hadn't seen him for five years, and one thing led to another," she said, patting her face with the wet towel.

  "Are you feeling ill, my dear?"

  "No, just a little too much champagne."

  "Are you sure it's the champagne?"

  As Andrea looked up at Grayson, the striking resemblance between Grayson and her mother overwhelmed her. At that moment Andrea desperately missed her Mom and her eyes brimmed with tears.

  Grayson sat next to Andrea and held her. "I can see in your eyes what you're thinking.”

  Andrea turned to Grayson with a sense of relief. When they'd met on the plane, after all those years, Andrea couldn't believe her good fortune and the bond she and Grayson shared. She knew there was a psychic link between them. Even as a child, she always felt secure and safe when she and Grayson were together.

  "You look upset about something. Do you want to talk about it?"

  "Oh Grayson." Tears spilled from her eyes.

  "Now, now, it can't be that bad," she patted Andrea's hand. "Maybe, if you tell me, it won't seem hopeless."

  Andrea told her briefly about meeting Kurt five years ago at a party and spending most of the evening with him. She had found him utterly attractive and charming, but she was involved with Jason. "Aunt Grayson, I knew Kurt was attracted to me, and I must admit, now that I think of it, I flirted with him. What amazes me," she shook her head mystified, "I never heard a word from him. And now, I think, no, I know I've fallen in love with him."

  "Is that all?" Grayson started to laugh. "My dear Andrea, Uncle Charles and I knew each other only three months before we married. Didn't your mother ever tell you the story about our elopement? Your parents were our witnesses."

  Andrea shook her head in disbelief. "Three months!"

  “Yes, and if it were up to Charles, we would have run off and got married that same day."

  "How did you know he was the one?"

  "How do you know?" Grayson paused, carefully choosing her words. "Well. Does your body hurt you when you haven't seen him for a few hours? Does your smile fade when he leaves the room? Do you feel disconnected when you're not with him?"

  "That's exactly how I feel. But we've only been together one week!"

  "So! That's how you know. You can feel it, you can taste it. And deep within, you know it. I'm not saying you won't have your share of problems, all marriages do. But that's what keeps marriage new, exciting and young. Maybe my being a psychologist most of my life helped, but I think when something is right, it's right. Uncle Charles and I would have been married forty years the year he died."

  "Love at first sight is impossible."

  "Why do you say such a thing? Dry your eyes and go to him. Don't miss a moment together. Every moment is precious. Now, I wish I'd had those extra three months with Charles."

  Andrea gave Grayson a hug. "Our meeting on the plane was a miracle. I won't ever let time escape us again."

  "I won't either. It's new beginnings for all of us."

  A tear slid down Grayson's face. "You always were the child Uncle Charles and I never had. Now go. Go before Kurt thinks you ran away. Call me tomorrow. I want to know everything," she said, "like best friends sharing secrets."

  "Are you still at the condo with your friend?"

  "Yes. It's not far from here."

  "Great. Let's try to get together before my plane leaves tomorrow afternoon." Andrea left Grayson smiling.

  An indescribable softening surged through Andrea. She was clearheaded enough to stop and stand and look around and listen.

  The rhythmic lyrics from her favorite song, Body and Soul played softly in the background. She smiled and silently sang the words “I’d gladly surrender myself to you Body and Soul.”

  Andrea stood by the piano; delicate, provocative. Her sensuous body turned toward the singer. She moved her lips mouthing the words of the song. When she looked over, Kurt was standing beside the table with his arms folded. A troubled look was written on his face. She walked toward him, slow and deliberate. Her breath left her body at the sight of him.

  "Are you ill?" He asked, squeezing her hand as she slid onto the banquette. "You've been gone for twenty minutes. I was about to send someone to find you."

  "I'm fine now," she said reassuringly.

  He rubbed his knuckles across her chin, and she in turn kissed his bunched up fingers.

  He drew a sigh of relief. "What happened to you in there?" he asked, smiling.

  Briefly, Andrea told him about Grayson and their relationship.

  "Was she the person on the plane with you?"

  "Yes. And I want to call her before we leave tomorrow afternoon. She and I have a lot to talk about."

  "And so do we," he said, and planted a kiss on her neck.

  The waiter arrived with their dinners. Now relaxed, they attacked their dinners with relish. He glanced at her and watched her savor every mouthful. "You seem to be enjoying it!"

  “Oh, it's wonderful. How's your dinner?"

  "Great, but I'm waiting for my interrogation to begin," he said mischievously, lifting the glass to his lips.

  She looked at him, perplexed. "Interrogation?"

  "Yes. You said you were going to find out more about me. Remember?"

  "Oh yes." She gave a short embarrassed laugh. "Hmm, where shall I begin? If I remember correctly, you said you loved art."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Do you like to go to New York City?”

  "Sure do. Right before I went to the Middle East on assignment, Newsweek gave me a week to play in Manhattan, all expenses paid. I had Emily meet me there for the weekend."

  "It's strange she never mentioned she saw you there?"

  "Why do you think that's strange?" he asked.

  "I don't know. She told me she was going into the city, but never told me why."

  "Did you question her on it?"

  "No, come to think of it. Anyway, it really didn't matter. Although the next time I go to the city, it will be with you. I have some of my paint
ings in a gallery in SoHo."

  "Is it that same gallery you always dealt with?"

  She stared at him. He was an endless surprise. A question mark spread across her face.

  "Yes . . . it is."

  "Let me explain," he said, and took her hand. "When I realized I didn't have a chance with you because of your involvement with Jason, I took another assignment in the Gulf. Emily was aware of my love for you and she tried to persuade me to stay here and at least see you occasionally. I knew that would never work. That's when I decided I had to get away from you. As far away as possible. After I made the commitment to go, I purchased two of your paintings and took part of you with me."

  She sat back and looked at him in amazement. How can a man, who only knew me for one evening, care so much for me, she wondered?

  They laughed and chatted, until the waiter returned a third time. "Another cup of coffee or an after dinner drink?" he asked, as he checked his watch.

  "No thanks, nothing for me. Andrea”

  “I've had all I can take, thank you."

  They both scanned the dining room and in unison said, "I guess we'd better . . . . "

  Andrea smiled. "I'm sorry. What were you about to say?"

  "I guess we'd better leave so this poor man can go home."

  She took his arm as they left the restaurant. "I can't believe the time." She glanced at her watch to check again.

  "Andrea, I have to admit when you left the table, I thought you had left the restaurant. You were gone a long time and I was worried."