But Shannon was willing to rip out Rebecca’s heart. All for momentarily captivating the man who had never been Shannon’s in the first place.
Certainly Freud must have something to say about women dealing with women, dealing with sexual relationships. Certainly Rebecca would have something to say to Shannon on Monday.
I’ll rip out your heart if you don’t stay away from David, who is not mine, either. Of course, Rebecca would never expose herself so completely to Shannon. She knew exactly what would happen from this moment on, because she’d make damn sure it did.
By Monday, she would successfully and, with as little damage as possible to his ego, end this flirtation with George. Then she’d put a bandage on the beating her heart had taken tonight with David and sail forth to try to put a Band-Aid on her professional relationship with Shannon before they both bled to death.
Her resolve firmly in place, she opened the door to leave the safety of the luxurious lounge.
Propped against the wall beside a stunning painting of dogs sitting by a fire, his long legs casually crossed at the ankles, David waited for her. He straightened immediately when he saw her.
Her heart banged against her ribs, and she thrust up her chin in defiance. “I’m sorry, David. If you’re waiting for Shannon, she’s not in the lounge.”
“You know damn well I’m not waiting for Shannon. I’m not here with her.”
Rebecca forced her eyes to widen in shock. “Shannon has an identical twin who knows George, too!”
“Very funny.” David ran his fingers through his hair, and instead of making it look messy, it became sexy. “If you’ll let me, I can explain.”
Anger was such a great acting coach. It helped her put just the right amount of amusement in her laugh and the perfect dismissive shrug in her shoulders. “You don’t need to explain to me. My motto is, and always shall be, all’s fair in the dating game until there’s an engagement ring.” She wiggled her ringless fingers. “Have a nice evening.”
He caught her hand, all six foot one of him looming over her. She thrust her chin even higher and glared at him. “Yes? What’s the problem?”
“You. Before you rudely interrupt me again, I want to tell you I had a drink with Shannon to discuss the paper. Like I had dinner with Kate to discuss the paper. Shannon devoured every bowl of pretzels the waiter put on our cocktail table, saying she was starving and wanted dessert. Being a gentleman, I offered to feed her.”
The overwhelming relief bubbling through her veins terrified her. Why do I always believe what this man tells me?
“In a few minutes I’m putting Shannon in a cab to go home alone. I’d like to do the same with George. I have a burning need to check on my rosebushes. It has been much too long.” David gave her a tantalizing smile, promising delights.
Remembering their one night together, her body tingled all over. Anger was fading in a rush of blissful anticipation. “The rosebushes were looking a little peaked tonight,” she lied, because she needed to remember her anger. It was part of the survival kit.
“I have just the TLC they need. I’ll be at your place in an hour.”
“Maybe I’ll be there. Maybe I won’t,” she murmured, untangling their fingers. “We’ll see what happens,” she called back over her shoulder as she walked away.
She knew she was being a little cruel, but she didn’t want him to think she was too easy to win over. They could make up taking care of the rosebushes.
By the time Rebecca returned to the table, George had eaten half the oysters. He stood and pulled out the chair for her. “Shannon and your boss are leaving. Now you can relax and we can order dinner.”
She wanted him to believe he was the one to walk away, so she must be as outrageously demanding as possible. Like Kate Hudson in that movie How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. “Actually, I have a dreadful headache.” Gently, she rubbed her temples with her fingertips.
He frowned and leaned closer. “It’s stress. I’ve got some great massage oil my trainer gave me. We’ll leave and go back to my place. I’ll massage your neck and back until you feel better. Then we can get into the Jacuzzi,” he added with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
“That sounds lovely, George,” Rebecca sighed. “That’s the perfect spot to have our serious discussion. We have a lot of plans to make.”
He winked. “I’ve got some plans of my own for us tonight.”
She stared deeply into his eyes. “I’m serious, George. It’s time for us to go to the next level. I need commitment from you. My biological clock is ticking. I want to hear the pitter-pat of tiny feet.”
George’s eyes widened, and a thin film of perspiration glistened on his skin. He sat up straighter, putting distance between them. “I’m not ready for that. I’m only thirty-four.”
“Yes, I know. But I’m much older. My clock is tocking its last.” She smiled gently. “If not the pitter-pat of tiny feet, then large ones. I’ve always wanted a Newfoundland dog. I’ve read they’re wonderfully loyal to their family.”
“A . . . Newfoundland dog . . . but aren’t they . . . huge? My co-op doesn’t allow pets over forty pounds.” Stammering was new coming from George.
“My place has those same silly rules. That’s why I’m thinking about us moving to the suburbs.”
“The suburbs!” He said it with the horror of someone contemplating exile to the most desolate wasteland on the planet. He fell back in his chair, getting as far away from her as possible. “Rebecca, are you putting me on?” There was a thread of hope in his voice.
She smiled. “A little bit.”
His eyes lost their glaze, and he swayed slightly closer. “Then let’s discuss this again in the morning.”
“Of course. While we’re having our herbal tea I’ll get on your computer and pull up the places my real estate agent has shown me for us to consider.” She chuckled, giving him a coy glance. “You knew I was only kidding about the Newfie. I really want a pug.”
George appeared to waver on the edge, his breath sucked in to utter something. He was definitely looking at her differently now. “How’s that headache?”
She dropped her lashes over her eyes for an instant while rubbing again at her temples. “Still dreadful.”
“Then that settles it. We’ll skip dinner. I’m taking you home to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll get the bill.”
Watching George walk to the front desk to pay the waitress, Rebecca sighed. One obstacle hurdled without any harm done. Within an hour George would be in a trendy bar, giving a pretty girl his signature smile and congratulating himself on his lucky escape from being trapped in the suburbs.
While she couldn’t wait to get home to torment David over their rosebushes, she hoped George would be very happy. She certainly planned to be blissful tonight.
Rebecca walked into the quiet, wood-paneled lobby of her condo building expecting to find David. All she found was Malcolm napping behind the security desk.
A faint sensation of doom draped itself around her shoulders, really giving her a headache.
The click of her high boots on the marble floor woke Malcolm. Blinking, he sat up and stretched. “Sorry, Miss Covington. Must have dozed off for a sec.”
“I won’t tell.” She gazed around like David could be hiding under the tapestry bench or behind one of the Chinese red planters holding ficus trees. “Has anyone been here to see me?”
“Sure. Mr. Sumner.” Malcolm nodded. “I put the groceries he delivered for you in your refrigerator and cupboard.”
Interesting. Champagne and what else?
“Where did you put Mr. Sumner?” she asked, hoping to be funny.
Malcolm’s deep, former-heavy-smoker raspy laughter shook his thin chest. “Good one, Miss Covington. He said he’d be right back. Ran out ’cause he forgot the plant food. I think that’s what he said.” Malcolm’s veiny cheeks flushed redder.
He probably thinks David forgot the condoms. She smiled gently at the confused look on his face. “Mr. S
umner is an avid gardener. Please send him up as soon as he gets back. Thanks.”
The elevator couldn’t move fast enough for her. She had important things to do before David returned.
She raced around her condo, picking up saucers and half-full cups of cold tea littering most flat surfaces. She plumped up the pillows on the bed and switched off the overhead light, leaving just the two on her bedside tables.
She opened the closet door and started to unzip her dress. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
George was right. The dress exactly matched her eyes, which is why she’d bought it after seeing it in Elle magazine. The ad had read “price upon request,” which she knew meant exorbitant. But once the dress came into the Ralph Lauren store and she saw how it brought out her eyes and how the sweetheart neckline exposed just enough creamy décolletage to be tastefully provocative, she’d thrown down her credit card without a fight.
Deciding the suede boots might be a bit much for gardening, she pulled them off. The barefoot look brought back tantalizing memories of the last time she’d tormented David. This time, instead of being naked under her clothes, she was wearing a nude, silky La Perla strapless bra and thong. Shamelessly, she hoped they had the same effect.
Waiting, she paced around the condo in ever-tighter stomach-knotting anticipation. Where is he?
Finally the doorbell rang. She flung the door open and pulled David inside.
They were in each other’s arms, kissing deeply, desperately.
“I love kissing you,” he murmured against her lips, and he swept her up in his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and returned the compliment by caressing his sensual mouth with her tongue.
As they moved through the living room and into the bedroom, their kisses grew deeper and hotter. Reaching the bed, he lowered her bare feet to the floor. His long fingers stroked her neck and made light circles across her breasts just above the sweetheart neckline of her dress.
“I love you in this. Take it off,” he commanded.
In her head she was Becky again, free to go wherever he wanted. Being with David reminded her that once Rebecca had been spontaneous and a little wild.
“You first,” she demanded back.
His eyes never left her face as he did a slow striptease, unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off, and tossing it toward a chair.
She ached to stroke his taut stomach. To press slow, wet kisses on his warm skin.
“Now it’s your turn, Becky.”
“No fair. I only have one piece of clothing.”
“No underwear again?” The dimple deepened in his cheek.
“You’ll see,” she teased. Slowly she pulled down the zipper, and with one shrug of her shoulders, the exorbitantly expensive designer dress slid down her body to pool like a lagoon around her ankles.
His eyes roamed over her might-as-well-be-naked designer underwear. “Nice. I approve.” Grinning, he held her hand to steady her as she stepped free of the dress and flung it across the end of the bed.
It had been too long since she’d had this much fun. Too long since she’d wanted to be with someone so completely. Had she ever felt this way before? “You again, David.”
Quickly he undid his black alligator belt and pulled his trousers down. Kicking off his loafers, he was now barefoot, too.
Looking at his white briefs, barely containing his taut erection, she realized how lucky women were to be able to hide the fire burning between their thighs.
He lifted one eyebrow. “Next?”
She snapped open her bra and peeled it off her warm body.
He reached for her, but she gently pushed his hands away. She wanted those fingers stroking her aching breasts, but she was already giddy with anticipation. She wanted it to build higher. “No cheating. Keep going.”
He groaned. “Becky, there is only so much a man can take. Especially at my age.”
She smiled lazily at him. “You run empires. You’re not so old you can’t tough this out. You’re almost there.”
He slid off his briefs and kicked them under the bed.
His body was as beautiful as she’d remembered. Like before, he couldn’t hide how much he wanted her.
She needed to show him how much she wanted him. Without words, she slid the last wisp of silk off her body and knelt in front of him.
David sucked in a sharp breath. “Becky?”
“I want to show you what I’m feeling.” Her mouth closed over him, her tongue tasting and tracing every contour again and again and again.
He spread his fingers through her short blond hair, and his hoarse voice rang in her ears. “God . . . Becky . . . stop before . . .”
He hauled her up to slam their bodies together, and the sensation of his hard, hot skin rubbing against her drove her wild.
With shaking hands, she slipped on the condom and pulled him down onto the bed with her.
He caught her wildness, caressing her breasts, her stomach, and down her thighs, with more and more urgency. She tried to pull him on top so she could wrap her legs around his hips, to bring him where she needed him. He resisted, his mouth warm and wet on her stomach.
“David?” she groaned.
With a husky laugh, he dragged his lips toward her thighs. He nibbled and kissed and caressed her body until she was dying to have him inside her.
Gently, insistently, he stroked a finger inside her. The next instant she felt the searing rasp of his tongue.
Her need swelled. Yes, more!
She arched her hips, the climax growing unbearable beneath his mouth.
She cried out. “Make love to me. Now!”
He thrust inside her with deep, long strokes. Again and again and again, the rhythm growing more powerful, harder. They were both wilder, and more desperate to touch and taste each other, than anything she’d ever known.
“Christ,” David groaned, thrusting deep and high, filling her.
She sobbed once, the blissful explosion shuddering through her. They clung together, gasping for air, before collapsing in an exhausted tangle.
She closed her eyes, savoring the sensual afterglow. She felt David’s warmth and pulled him to her. She cradled his head to her breasts and caressed his silky hair.
She was so shaken by her strong feelings for David it frightened her. She fell back on old safe habits.
Keep it light. “That was fun,” she sighed.
“Fun?” He shifted higher so their faces were millimeters apart on the pillow. “That was a religious experience.”
Her heart actually felt bigger in her chest. “Are you a spiritual man?”
“I’m a convert. To the worship of Becky.” His smile took her breath away.
Deep instincts for self-preservation made her close her eyes so he couldn’t see her overflow with joy. “You know Rebecca Covington had a thing or two to do with tonight, too.” She opened her eyes to see his reaction.
The naked admiration on his face made her whole body burn. “You and your alter ego are nearly more than a mere mortal man can handle.”
She couldn’t resist him. She didn’t want to resist him. She pressed a slow kiss on his wonderful mouth. “I don’t know about hard to handle. But I know the two of us are starving. I didn’t have any dinner.”
“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen.”
She’d forgotten. Now her stomach growled. They both laughed and got out of bed at the same time. Rebecca to wrap herself in her voluminous terry-cloth robe. David to pull on underwear, pants, and his unbuttoned shirt.
She found it appealing just to pad off to the kitchen with David. Tonight everything about David seemed perfect. She put it down to the lingering sensual afterglow, which hadn’t diminished one iota.
She opened the refrigerator, bare except for what he’d brought: a bottle of Cristal, organic strawberries, and her favorite St. Andres cheese from Whole Foods.
“There’s a box with two cro
issants and a smaller box of chocolates with soft caramel centers here.” He pulled them out of the cupboard.
Surprised, she turned to him. “How did you know all my favorites?”
“Pauline communicates more information in the shortest possible time than anyone I’ve ever met. She should be in sales. Will you share? Like you did the roses?” He glanced toward the terrace. “I need to check on our rosebushes.”
“After we eat. Come on.”
He sat down at the dining table where they’d shared their first disastrous meal. It was so different now. She laid out white linen napkins, dishes, and crystal champagne glasses. The intimacy of their lovers’ laughter and the natural playful way she and David ate off each other’s plates delighted her. It was almost like they were old marrieds, so comfortable and so much in love.
Wait a minute! Am I opening up too soon? Too fast? I’m setting myself up for more pain.
Now terrified at her thoughts of domestic bliss with this man, she stomped the fantasy to the ground and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.
“Jasmine has called three times to say how much she appreciates the massage and fresh flowers. I have you to thank for that thaw.” The warmth in his voice was contagious. She could feel it seeping into every cold, empty hollow in her body.
“The boys and Jasmine are coming to Chicago for Thanksgiving. It’s been a few years since we’ve had a real holiday together. I want you to meet them.”
Still in sensual overload, she laughed. “I’d love to meet them. Why don’t I cook Thanksgiving dinner here for everyone?” The instant the words left her lips, she knew she’d become deeply deranged by great sex.
David’s luminous face made her descent into madness worth it. “That would be great. The kids would like a home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner. Especially from a great cook like you. I’ll be traveling in New York for the next few weeks. By the time I get back, I’ll know their itinerary.” He glanced at his Rolex. “The jet is scheduled to take off at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Let’s take a look at those peaked-looking rosebushes before I leave.”
Talk of the Town Page 18