The Scent of His Woman

by Maggie Pritchard

  So playing on their sexual insecurities she kept all at bay and her virginity intact. It had seemed like the perfect plan, and to begin with, it had been, but as the years passed and she left student life behind, she found that virginity loses its charm as a woman ages, it fades into nothing as the years pass and even in this modern age where a woman need not measure herself by the man in her life, the age-old label of ‘old maid’ can still hang over the not so young (thirty four in this case) and still un-bedded, like an unwelcome spectre.

  So she had thrown safety to the winds and whispered her answer against his insistent mouth.

  ‘No you’re right, that’s not what I want.’

  And he had answered with a possessive kiss that robbed her of breath, and thought, and sense.

  Lexie closed her eyes, oblivious to the debate raging in the room around her and let her memory replay the rest of that wonderful night. He had driven them into Cardiff bay, to the area where luxury apartments rose from the edge of the man made lagoon. When she’d looked questioningly at him, he’d explained that he had access to a mate’s flat while he was out of town, there was no need to worry, it was all above board. She hardly remembered the apartment anyway, it was just a blur of deep carpets, picture windows overlooking the bay and the big luxurious bedroom. She did however remember everything about him, the way he’d led her to the big bed and undressed her, before removing his own clothes, dropping them in a heap on the cream carpet. She remembered looking at him standing over her gazing down, drinking in her nakedness like a man with an unquenchable thirst. It made her feel as beautiful as he was.

  She could have been looking at a Greek god. Dusted with fine golden hair, his broad shoulders and hard muscled chest tapering to lean hips and long, strong thighs. His manhood, full, almost frighteningly erect, completed the image of the perfect male, ready for his mate. She remembered welcoming him to her and reveling in the touch of his mouth and hands. Remembered the purely male scent of him. Remembered touching him back, stroking his wide back, twisting fingers in his thick hair as he drove her to heights of wanting she had never dreamt were possible. Even now her breasts began to tingle at the recollection of his mouth closing over her sensitive, tingling nipples, the day’s growth of stubble abrasive on her tender skin, and a damp heat began to pool between her legs at the memory of what had happened next.

  She had been almost out of her mind with need by the time he protected them both, parted her legs and rose over her. She writhed beneath him and lifted her hips to meet him, wanting him inside her so badly she gave no thought to the consequences. So when he thrust deep into her and the pain shot through her she could not help but cry out and buck under him in a panic fueled attempt to be free. He had not released her though, gripping her hips with hard hands, he had only stilled and lifted his head to meet her eyes with his own which were filled with shocked surprise.

  ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  Time seemed to stand still as he waited for her answer.

  ‘No, no please don’t stop, please’.

  It was an involuntary plea, born out of sheer need that he answered by lowering his head to kiss her as he pushed deeper into her and began to move in the slow satisfying rhythm she craved. Moving until he climaxed in long shuddering thrusts deep inside, before gently pulling away to lay still and quiet beside her.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me hurt you?’

  His voice was calm, tender, and that was her undoing, she had twisted away from him then and bringing the shutters down replied harshly.

  ‘What, and just casually drop into the conversation, by the way here’s a new thrill for you, how do you feel about bedding frigid old maids!’

  Her eyes full of angry tears she had made to get off the bed, but he stopped her, pulling her back into his arms. She remembered how he had kissed her forehead, her cheeks wet with tears, the tip of her nose and finally her trembling mouth. Then he’d whispered into her ear.

  ‘Who are you angry with Lexie cariad? Me for taking what you have kept safe for so long, or yourself for giving it to me?’

  Lexie had not answered, just slipped her arms around him,needing to feel his warmth and strength. It seemed like a long time later before he stirred and carried her silently into the spacious bathroom. Lexie blushed at the recollection of how easily he had aroused her a second time under the warm jets of water. She’d tensed and tried to move away however, when back on the big bed he unwrapped her from the big fluffy towel and began to trail hot kisses down her body his fingers leading his mouth to that most intimate part of her. He wouldn’t be stopped though and she remembered how he had grasped her hips in an iron grip.

  ‘Keep still’ he’d growled, ‘and let me teach you.’

  Then he’d shown her just what her body was capable of, sending her into a crescendo of cataclysmic pleasure that left her sobbing, weak and trembling in his arms.

  ‘Did I really hear some mention of frigidity?’

  She’d heard him murmur incredulously into her hair just before they both fell asleep.

  She had no idea how long they’d slept, bodies entwined, but she did remember waking, first to the recollection of their shared passion and then to the dawning realisation of what she had done, what she had been. Wanton, that was the word,a fairly bland, old fashioned word for a complete loss of moral fiber! Her shame and embarrassment were total, how could she have been such a slut? She did not even know his full name, had not told him hers. She’d looked over at his sleeping face, impossibly handsome, a strong face, high cheekbones, straight nose, square chin and that beautifully formed mouth. In sleep his thick soft brown lashes lay fanned on his cheeks and she had longed to see them lift so she could gaze once more into those incredible eyes.

  Then it had dawned on her. What would she see in those eyes this morning? Last night he had wanted her, lusted after her, it would be different in the harsh light of morning. Last night he set out to make a conquest, only to find out too late that the prize he had set his sights on was well past its sell by date. Lexie knew quite well that she looked a lot younger than her thirty four years. She was blessed in that way, her sisters, who were older, told her constantly, though to be fair they were both very youthful too and worked hard to remain so. It was just the Owen genes she supposed. But now look what had happened, he had set his sights on one thing and got entirely another and when he woke she would see the disappointment register in those eyes, disappointment and the realisation of her wretched secret. What a joke he would think, a man sets out to seduce a girl and lands up taking the virginity of an old maid. He would certainly share that one with his mates, it was such a story, hilarious!

  All of a sudden it had become imperative she get away without waking him. She could stand it then, if she could only leave without seeing all that in his eyes then she could forget everything except his passionate lovemaking. Those were the memories that she would keep warm and close to her heart, a sweet secret for her to re-live during the long lonely nights. Slowly she began to wriggle and squirm from the bed, carefully moving his heavy arm from her waist, stopping dead when he began to stir. Then once she was free of the bed and he’d settled back into sleep, she’d gathered up her clothes, tiptoed into the outer room to dress hurriedly and then made her escape. Outside the dawn was just breaking, a chill in the air had made her shiver as she walked hurriedly towards the city centre. Lexie did not know Cardiff well, only coming into the Welsh capital occasionally to indulge in a little shopping with Florence her sister. She did know however how to find the train station and had enough in her purse to get herself to within a few miles of home. Then there would be nothing for it but to ring one of her sisters to come to the rescue. They would just think she had been out on the town, they would scold and warn her she was taking too many risks. Lexie had smiled at the irony, to think for once they would be right.

  So, it had ended, her one adventure, her first (and last she had vowed) sojourn into the world of casual sex.
At least she had thought it was over and done with, until she had sat here in this room and watched Geth, if that was his real name, take his place in the ranks of the opposition. Who was he? Had he spotted her? To answer those questions she shook off her reverie and started to pay attention to what was going on in the room.

  By now the room was reverberating with the sound of raised voices and it took Lexie a few seconds to even begin to make any sense of it. Some of the protestors were on their feet shouting, while the deputation in front of them looked rather smug. As the row continued to escalate the security guards and the press reporters with their attendant photographers moved in closer. Try as she might Lexie could not make out what had caused the uproar, so she turned to the young man sitting in the seat next to her.

  ‘What’s happening, why is everyone so angry?’

  ‘Have you been sleeping or something?’ He asked with a snort, ‘it’s a done deal. GLM claim that have finished their round of consulting and work will begin immediately. Then to cap it all high and mighty Gethyn Mathias there announced that to keep to health and safety guidelines his company has bought up the land each side of the proposed development too and the whole area has been secured today. You know what that means, someone must have told them that we would all be here today, that they could move onto the land without a fight.’

  Lexie felt faint and sick, as the awful truth dawned on her. He was “Gethyn Mathias”, everyone had heard of him, though she had never seen a good photograph of him, she didn’t buy papers local or otherwise, much preferring to read a good book. He was a self made millionaire, from a respectable Welsh farming family. The Welsh press liked to hold him up as a role model for a modern Wales, but he was a bit of a playboy. Often in the news with a leggy blonde on his arm as often as not. It was of course, always given an indulgent treatment, if mentioned at all in the papers. No way was Wales’ “golden boy” going to get any real criticism. How unpatriotic would that be?

  Memories came flooding back and this time she understood all too well what they meant. The way he had targeted her so purposefully, the way he had plied her with wine, the way she had chatted so guilelessly about everything under the sun and he had listened so intently. She tried desperately to recall what she had talked about, but the memories were hazy, blurred by red wine and by the scalding memories of what had followed. She’d spoken about the protest, she remembered doing that, but couldn’t remember the details. There was no doubt in her mind though, that it had been her that had let him know it would be safe to move in and secure the site. That all the protestors would be facing him in London on this day and there would be no-one left behind to fight back. How else would he have found out? There was also no doubt now in her mind that he had got exactly what he set out to get and that a night of casual sex had been just the icing on the cake to him. Oh what a fool she had been, what an unmitigated idiot. Tears flooded her eyes and all she could think of was to get out, nothing else mattered. The meeting was at an end anyhow, with the deputation from GLM filing out smugly, while the protestors milled around still shouting, held back by the tight security. So she grabbed her wrap and blindly headed for the door, pushing frantically through the crowd until she burst out into the sunshine of the wide London street.

  She was disorientated, not sure how to get back to the minibus. Left, yes that was it, they had walked up from that direction, so she set off down the road, not quite knowing what she was going to do next, just needing to get away. As she walked she began to calm down. No-one could know it was her, he certainly wouldn't say anything she was fairly certain of that. He’d got what he wanted and all it would cause was a scandal he could do without. So there was nothing to worry about was there. All that was spoilt was her memory of that night, the memory that she had decided she would hold secret, close to her heart. Well she’d done without that before and could do so again, she thought defiantly, rallying a little. The protest would be ok too, she was sure there would even now be plans hatching to turn the tables on the developers. She would do all she could to help, no more half heartedness, it was the least she could do.

  Feeling better she looked around hoping to get her bearings and find the minibus, but soon it dawned on her that she was not anywhere near the right place. Then she stopped dead in her tracks, oh my, where was her bag? Back in the meeting room that was where, where she’d left it pushed under a chair. In her haste to escape she had completely forgotten it. Turning on her heels she started back the way she had come, fairly running in her haste. If she could not find the minibus or retrieve her bag she was in real trouble, stuck in the metropolis without a penny, a credit card or a friend. Goodness what a mess!

  Chapter 2

  Gethyn Lloyd Mathias led the GLM deputation out of the conference room with a smile. Having successfully turned the tables against the vociferous protest group, he felt entitled to feel just a bit smug. Not that he hadn’t dealt with worse than these in his time, it was par-for-the-course where most new developments were concerned these days. No, what made this victory that little bit sweeter was getting the upper hand with “rent-a-mob”, a self styled crowd who made a profession of jumping in on protests that had nothing to do with them. Experience had taught him that more often than not, thinking they knew it all, they went full steam ahead without finding out what the local residents really wanted. So he had made a few discreet enquiries about this particular protest and found out that local opinion was split where the proposed development was concerned. Some were indeed opposed to yet another business park near their pretty village, but there were plenty that could see the potential for the jobs it could bring to the area. After that it had been simple enough to arrange to get the protest group to agree to a meeting in the London office, and then to find a local councilor willing to pass on the information he needed about what kind of defenses they were planning to put in place at the development site on that day. He had laughed out loud when he had found out there would be no-one left in charge, all he had to do was get the site and the newly acquired land each side of it secured while the meeting kept the protestors occupied. Then there would be nothing stopping the work from going ahead as planned. In return for the information, he had agreed to meet with the local community council to thrash out what the villagers really wanted and needed from the developers, after all it was their village. Yes indeed, things were progressing nicely, which was more than could be said for the business with her, with Ms Alexandria Owen.

  He reached his office with his entourage still in tow, they were elated and expected to hear his next command. Geth however dismissed them all except for Owain his security chief, before passing through the big oak door into his office. He crossed the room, rounded the desk and relaxed into his seat. looking across at the younger man, thinking carefully before he spoke.

  ‘You saw her?’

  It was more a statement than a question and there was no doubt who was being discussed here. Owain had received instructions from his employer to make some discreet enquiries about the lady in question less than a month ago. It had not been difficult to track her down, even though he’d only been given her first name and the name of the village where she lived. Luckily it was a small village and the locals were friendly, so there was now a neat file with as much information as he’d been able to find on her, sitting on the boss’ desk.

  Miss (but she preferred Ms) Alexandria Owen was thirty four years old. She lived in a little studio apartment above her shop, overlooking the patch of grass that passed for a village green in LLan-aberth, which was a pretty enough place some twenty miles north of Cardiff. The usual cluster of houses around a small church, a pub and a few dusty shops, the village was fairly typical. It was not difficult to get the locals to talk to him either, they were a friendly enough bunch. He’d found out that she ran a little shop, and recently she had been joined in that little enterprise by her sister. They specialized in selling herbal cosmetic products she made herself from ingredients she grew in her allotment or bo
ught locally. He’d wandered in one afternoon and found it to be a tiny fragrant place, full of the scents of summer. As well as the array of pots and bottles containing her home made concoctions, there were tubs of fresh creamy goo on the counter and bunched of fresh and dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling beams. He’d beat a hasty retreat, the overwhelming, sweet smelling femininity of the place made him feel uneasy. A little more digging had revealed that she didn’t own the shop and apartment, but rented the property from a local landowner. She had two sisters who visited often and, the general consensus seemed to be that though she was a little eccentric and outspoken she was also funny and likable and she had fitted in well enough. Apart from the fact that she had, during her college days earned a reputation for being a bit of a ‘green activist’ by attending a number of meetings and rallies and that she owned a comical bright green 2CV, he had been unable to dig up much more information on Ms Alexandria Owen and more to the point was at a loss as to why he’d been asked to investigate her at all. He’d found nothing to suggest there was a business reason for digging into her private life so that could only mean Geth had a personal interest in her.

  At the time he’d put it down to some strange aberration on the boss’ part, his usual tastes ran to leggy supermodels, but he never made any effort to learn much about them and never let them interfere with business. This time it was different, Geth reaction to her presence in the room, had been visible. For a moment just as his eyes had fallen on her diminutive figure sitting low in the back row seats, the great Gethyn Mathias had hesitated, frozen to the spot for a fraction of a second. Oh, he had pulled himself back to reality without anyone but his security man noticing, but it had happened, unthinkable and now here she was again in the forefront of his employer’s thoughts. So answering the taut question Owain answered.