A French Kiss in London
Page 9
She hesitated for a moment, as though still unused to this declaration. Then she traced an imaginary heart in the air with her index fingers.
He smiled back at her thoughtfully, wondering when she would let herself trust him and be comfortable with displaying her love.
Chapter Ten
The next day went by in a blur for Linda. She arranged for Mrs. Adams to take Pirata while she would be away. After that, she helped the old housekeeper to clean the house. She personally cleaned up her workshop, then sharpened and organized her tools. In the afternoon, when the woman had left, she prepared a magnificent dinner for Gerard. He’d called during the day to let her know he had booked flights for Monday morning. He promised he would be at her house for dinner at seven o’clock.
She chose her outfit carefully. She put on a pink, strapless dress, long and diaphanous, with floral prints. Because she’d noticed that Gerard loved to comb his fingers through her hair, she brushed it and let it fall in soft, shiny waves on her back.
Gerard arrived at a quarter to seven. He was unshaven and wore a white shirt, clean but extremely wrinkled. Looking at him, she marveled at the effect the man had on her. Was she so blinded by love that she thought he looked gorgeous, even dressed far from presentable and with dark circles of fatigue under his eyes?
When he drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply, with the passion that seemed to spring straight from his soul, the reason why she loved him was very clear.
“The air conditioning in my office has broken, that’s why I’m all sweaty and rumpled. I missed you like crazy,” he added, kissing her again.
“Me too,” she said, smiling dreamily up into his eyes. “I’ve made a delicious dinner. I hope you like Boeuf salad and Cordon Bleu. This time I made dessert too.”
“Really? What?”
“A yogurt and sour cherries pie—my special recipe. You’ll like it.”
“Smells divine!” He sniffed the air. “But I’m begging you, may I take a shower first? I need to get out of these clothes.”
“Of course. Go upstairs. In the meantime, I’ll set the table.”
“Don’t you want to come with me?” he suggested playfully, his eyes twinkling wickedly.
She stepped back and did a pirouette, allowing him to admire her dress.
“I went to so much trouble so I’d look good for you, and you already want me to take off my clothes? You didn’t even notice my new dress,” she said, pouting.
“Of course I’ve noticed it, baby. It’s lovely. Anyway, you look your best in Eve’s outfit, under me.”
This last image and his low, rough tone were so vividly erotic that they left her breathless. As though reading her mind, he winked at her before turning to climb the stairs, on his way to the bedroom.
Smiling widely—it seemed it was all she could do lately—Linda set the big guest-table in the dining room, using the fine porcelain tableware and silver cutlery. Seated on a chair at the top of the table, Pirata was carefully supervising his mistress’s preparations.
Gerard descended after ten minutes, trailing behind him a fresh scent of soap. When she spun around, she saw her lover was wearing only a towel around his hips. Her lips parted in surprise and her jaw almost dropped. He reacted the same way, looking at the festive setting, then down at himself and his attire, completely inadequate for the occasion.
They both burst out laughing at the same time. When their laughter subsided, he took her in his arms, leaning his forehead on hers.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” he said. “You’ve worked so hard for this dinner and I ruined everything. I thought we were going to eat in the kitchen. I wasn’t expecting anything formal. Are we celebrating something?”
She kissed his naked chest, which was still wet from the shower. Tiny droplets meandered down his body, following the subtle contours of his muscles, drawn toward his navel, just as her eyes were. Her voice sounded husky when she replied to his question.
“Just the fact that we’re together. Don’t be sorry, you don’t have anything to apologize for.”
He gesticulated toward the table.
“How can I not apologize? Everything is perfect, except me.”
She smiled, giving him a long, lingering kiss.
“You’re the only perfect thing, amore mio! Let’s eat. Pirata, make room for the gentleman,” she ordered the cat. Obedient, Pirata jumped onto another chair.
Dinner was a pleasant—if strange—experience. She’d never had an almost naked gorgeous man sitting at her table. She couldn’t say she disliked it, not even close. She would have been happy to admire and enjoy his perfect body on every day of her life.
They recounted to one another the day’s events, then made plans for the next day.
“What time do we need to be at the gallery?” he asked.
“The official opening is at six in the evening.”
“And what exactly do we have to do at such an event?”
“Not much. Smile, talk to people…That’s about it.”
She took a sip from the red wine she’d bought specially for this occasion.
“It’s going to be an interesting experience to see my star in action,” he remarked grinning.
After dinner, she freshened their drinks and they went outside on the terrace. They lay on the lounge chairs, lighted only by the torches of the dwarves and elves, admiring the few stars sprinkled here and there in the dark abyss above.
He put his glass onto the small table placed between the lounge chairs, then rose and took off the towel from around his hips. Linda remained with her glass to her mouth, watching him motionless. A tide of sensations rushed through her body and she was suddenly overcome by pure, elemental lust.
He took the glass from her hand and helped her to her feet.
“I want to test this pool of yours. It’s almost as tempting as the owner,” he told her as he undressed her, his hands moving swiftly and knowingly over her skin.
The thin, strapless dress pooled at her feet and she was left in a minuscule lacy thong. In two movements, Gerard got rid of that as well.
Wordless, they sank into the cool water, which made an almost effervescent contrast with their heated bodies.
“I didn’t think we could…make love in the pool,” she gasped, abandoning herself to his relentless kisses and caresses.
“Every day I’m going to teach you a new way to make love. We’re going to learn together,” he told her, holding her tightly. He sank deeper into the water and into her hot body, which was feverishly burning for him.
****
In the morning, Gerard woke before Linda did. Gathering his rumpled clothes from a chair, he moved toward the bathroom, where he dressed quietly. He sniffed at his shirt and wrinkled his nose against the faint smell of sweat. But he consoled himself by thinking he’d get home fast and change into clean clothes.
Sneaking back in the bedroom, he stopped for a moment to watch his lover sleep.
Mon Dieu, how beautiful she is, he thought as he sat gently on the edge of the bed, gazing at her. He almost couldn’t believe this divine creature was his. At least for now. The thought that he could lose her drove him to despair, even to fear—a feeling he didn’t remember ever to have experienced.
He kissed her parted lips lightly. When she didn’t stir, he stood and headed to the door. Linda had given him the alarm code, so there was no need to disturb her for anything.
He stopped by his flat to change. He put on a fresh, blue shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans. He fed his fish and watched them devouring their food with greedy enthusiasm. He had to promise Danielle a special present from Romania—a bribe in exchange for her services as a fish-sitter while he was gone. The plane tickets were round-trip type, at a three days interval. Linda and he had to conclude the business with Jean-Paul in that timeframe. Two of the three days included the trip itself and were going to be spent mostly on the road.
He consulted his wardrobe to pick an adequate outfit for the upcomi
ng night’s event. He chose a dark-blue suit, a white shirt and a gray tie. He checked to see if the clothes were well pressed, then left for the clinic.
* * * *
Linda awoke in a state of anxiety whose cause she couldn’t localize. She remembered the gallery’s opening was at six o’clock that evening. Groaning, she buried her head back under the pillow. Although she wasn’t a novice in the art world, such events made her nervous, without a specific reason. She was by no means a sociable person. The thought of spending a few hours surrounded by a crowd of people who stared at her sculptures and made small talk depressed her.
Gerard had promised he’d pick her up at five, so they wouldn’t be delayed by the London traffic. She looked at the clock. It was almost eleven, which meant she had six hours to kill. She took a long, hot shower, then called Giovanni and talked to him for almost half an hour, with no regard for the phone bill.
She told him about Gerard, and her brother was more than thrilled because his sister finally had a guy.
She thought about calling her father, but the perspective of exchanging giggles with the beautiful and completely imbecile Ariadna discouraged her. Same story with Giovanna and her husband. Well, not quite. Fabrizzio Angeli was young and handsome, but far from imbecile. However, Linda didn’t know him well enough to be comfortable talking to him.
So she ate something and chattered with Pirata instead. After she finished, she dressed casually and decided to go shopping. In her opinion, there was nothing more stress releasing than a good shopping session.
At five o’clock, when Gerard came to pick her up, she hadn’t yet finished doing her makeup. She had put on a simple black dress that reached her knees and had a discreet décolletage. She’d twined her hair into a French twist, as simple and elegant as her whole attire. Between her breasts rested the necklace from Chantalle. As a final touch, she added a pair of pearl earrings.
Gerard called out, then climbed the stairs to the bedroom. When he saw her, he whistled in admiration.
“You look fabulous, ma belle!”
He kissed her freshly rouged lips, getting them both smudged with peach-colored lipstick.
“Look what you’ve done,” she scolded him, without actually minding one bit. “Here, wipe your face. I have to start all over again.”
She handed him a tissue. As she applied fresh lipstick, she urged him to tell her about his day.
“It went fine,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I only stopped by the clinic to get the file I want to give to Jean, and to visit my little patients. One of them is feeling great. He had an incipient skin cancer. After I injected him with the serum I told you about, after a few sessions it looks like all the cancerous cells were destroyed. True, the healthy ones had the same fate in that area. It’s possible he’ll have a scar all of his life, but…”
“But he’ll have a life!” she exclaimed thrilled, her chest tight with emotion and pride for him. Her eyes shone, full of tears when she spun around. “Do you realize, my love? You saved a life! You are my hero!”
Voice charged with excitement, she dragged him to his feet and hugged him hard.
“I only hope Jean’s cure will do wonders,” he said thoughtfully, holding her tightly.
Chapter Eleven
The night went far better than they both had expected. At the end of the evening, Linda couldn’t feel her right hand from so much handshaking. Her face seemed frozen in a painful, permanent smile. In spite of all that, it had been a pleasant experience.
The most praising remarks she received had come from her lover, who remained extremely impressed by her talent. Looking at all the statues and woodcarvings created by the hands and imagination of the woman he loved, Gerard appeared to have had a revelation regarding her true identity.
When his gaze fell upon the statue of Apollo, an arrogant grin became imprinted on his handsome face. He winked at her, as if reminding her of a joke known only by the two of them.
Francesco overwhelmed her with compliments. The guests hadn’t stopped for a moment from showering her with laudatory remarks, while browsing around, looking at the works on display and carrying glasses of champagne. The catering staff moved constantly through the crowd, loaded with trays of appetizers and tumblers of drinks.
Annarita introduced Linda to the other two artists, whose works were also on display. One of them—a blond, bohemian-looking young man, dressed in multi-colored clothes—kissed both of her cheeks enthusiastically. He assured her repeatedly that it was an honor for him to be in the same room with her.
The other artist—a pale, overweight woman dressed in black clothes that were not at all befitting—treated her with distant respect. When the woman moved away, Gerard leaned to whisper in Linda’s ear, “Envy. Both professional and personal. She knows she’ll never reach your level. That’s why she’s acting like an icy bitch.”
Linda laughed softly, taking his arm.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’m used to this kind of reaction. Nobody’s perfect. I’ve always looked straight ahead, without taking much notice of the people around me. In fact, it’s more because I’m too distracted, not from arrogance or anything like that.”
“Shall we sneak out?” he asked, his voice full of hope. “If one more person whispers something about your tonight’s escort, I’m going to throw this champagne in their face.”
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I hope you didn’t feel offended. Curiosity and gossip are a pain in the ass. Just because I ignore them, I didn’t realize they could bother you.”
He smiled down at her, eloquently arching one eyebrow.
“Get real! You know me. There aren’t many things in this world that bother me. I have a much too healthy ego to be disturbed because some strangers consider me your new male accessory.”
She laughed behind the crystal glass.
“Oh, yes. Don’t tell me about the size and shape of your…ego. I know it too well!”
“Then let’s go. We can talk more about it at home,” he growled into her ear, his tone insinuating and inviting.
They sneaked among the guests like two teenagers, trying to make themselves invisible.
At the exit, Linda froze on the threshold, staring at the tall, dark-haired man who was just coming in. His beautiful olive skin was unshaven, his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and the black suit he wore was a tad wrinkled.
“Che piacere vederti, amore mio! Sono venuto apposta per te!” he exclaimed, stretching his arms toward her. He stopped short when he saw Gerard coming behind her and placing his hand on her waist.
“Tony, what are you doing here?” she asked in English, when she recovered her voice. “What do you mean you came here especially for me?”
The two men studied one another from head to toe, a hostile tension crackling between them. Gerard also must have detected the hint of alcohol smell coming from the intruder. His hand tightened on her waist.
Tony noticed the gesture and his face twisted in a scornful expression. He said, “Ah, I see you have already replaced me. Didn’t take you long, did it? All men are after you like after a bitch in heat! It’s a shame she’s not too great in bed, amico,” he addressed Gerard with a derisive smirk.
In a fraction of a second, Gerard’s fist connected with Tony’s nose. The devastating impact and sound of that blow provoked to Linda a sickening sensation. Her ex-husband crashed to the ground, holding his face in both hands, while through his fingers trickled droplets of blood. He cursed them both in his native language, his voice distorted by pain. She didn’t think it was prudent to translate for Gerard the invectives Tony was throwing at them.
When Tony tried to get up, Gerard held him to the ground by planting a foot onto his chest. Raising his index finger threateningly, he spoke with deceiving calmness.
“Stay there. If you get up before we leave, I’m going to break your neck, not just your fucking nose. If you get close to Linda one more time in your miserable life, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Linda felt the truth in that threat deep into her own bones and a chill ran through her whole body. She knew her ex-husband felt it too, because he stayed down, while his clothes were slowly soaking in his own blood.
On the way home, none of them spoke a single word. Linda was only grateful because nobody else had been present during the scene that had taken place at the gallery’s entrance. It was late and dark, so Tony hadn’t managed to ruin her evening in front of the guests. But the words he’d said in front of Gerard burned into her soul. Shame and insecurity had erased all her newly found self-confidence.
When they reached her house, Gerard climbed out of the car and punched in the alarm code. The gate opened, then closed automatically once they drove past. He parked in front of the house. After a few moments he turned to her, while she sat with her head bent, nervously twisting the ring on her finger.
“That asshole was your ex, right?”
She nodded, without looking at him.
“And you really believed what the son of a bitch said? Or do you imagine I believed a single word of it?”
She moistened her lips and took a deep breath.
“The fact that all men follow me like…like he said, is not true. I’ve never even looked at another man while I was married to him. I’ve never sought nor wanted anyone’s attention. In spite of that, he always had bouts of jealousy with no real reasons. He made me all kinds of reproaches, among them being…What he said about my…my performances in bed,” she finished, fighting hard the tears of humiliation, her heart pierced by an almost unbearable pain.
He gazed at her for a long while in silence, in a strange way she couldn’t interpret. She found out later that he was simply marveling at her sweet naiveté, which made him feel proud, in the strange way only men can experience. He cupped her cheek gently and turned her head toward him, his eyes riveted on hers.