Playing the Spy

by Maggie Brown

  At the sight of Sophie, all her intentions of cooling it flew out the window. “Hello there,” she said with an answering smile, then leaned forward and kissed her. The scent of a fragrant deodorant and the taste of mint toothpaste tickled her senses.

  When she lifted her head to pull away, Sophie held her in place. “Kiss me again.”

  Eleanor groaned. She had no more hope of refusing than flying to the moon. She did as she was asked, only this time she drew Sophie into her arms and kissed her thoroughly, long and passionately. “Umm…that’s better,” Sophie murmured. “I wanted to do that when I woke up, but you were gone. I thought you would have woken me before you left.”

  Eleanor felt a flush of guilt. How stupid she had been. Of course she should have stayed—she had behaved as Austen did with her women. “I’m sorry. I…I wanted to be by myself to think things over.”

  “Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?” asked Sophie. She turned back to the stove, ostensibly to continue the breakfast preparation but Eleanor knew that wasn’t the reason. She was hurt.

  “We need to talk about last night…us.”

  “Is there an us, Ellie?”

  “That’s what I want to discuss. Where do we go from here? What are your expectations?”

  Sophie looked confused. “My expectations? What do you mean?”

  “I thought you would be wondering what my intentions are.”

  Sophie shot her a look that left Eleanor in no doubt that she was upset. “Damn it, Eleanor, why make it into a drama. I’m a big girl. We had a fantastic night together, but that doesn’t mean I expect the ring and the white wedding. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to make demands on you. I’m not that sort of person and I’m only your housekeeper for Pete’s sake.”

  “No…no. That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “So what did you mean?”

  Eleanor could feel the situation spinning out of control. She had made a hash of it and she wasn’t sure she knew how to right the ship. “I never thought you would take advantage of the situation. You might be my employee but you’re my friend too. I…I really like you, Sophie.”

  “And I like you too. But I’m not your equal in any way. It was a fantastic night but there were no ties or promises made. I knew where I stood when you weren’t next to me when I woke. So don’t sweat. I know you don’t do commitment, and I’m certainly no catch.”

  Suddenly, Eleanor had an awful sinking feeling. A quick touch of panic. She’d made a complete mess of things and hurt Sophie. Before she could say more, footsteps echoed on the staircase. “We’ll have to continue this later. Ginny’s coming.”

  “Whatever,” Sophie said in a tired voice. “I’ll have breakfast ready in fifteen minutes.”

  Eleanor felt something cold squeeze her heart. She had wanted to make it clear she was interested, but now Sophie thought she was being used. Why hadn’t she stayed in the damn bed?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sophie brought coffee out to the terrace where Eleanor and Ginny sat chatting. Both thanked her, though Eleanor seemed too quiet. Sophie stole glances at her while she set the table. Her face, lifted to the sun, was luminescent in the light. Exquisite. Sophie was well aware how much trouble she was in after their night together. Eleanor had been everything she had dreamed she would be and more. The perfect lover—the perfect everything.

  Restlessly, Sophie adjusted the cutlery as she felt a surge of self-disgust. She had known what Eleanor was trying to say before, but she had feigned ignorance. It was only to be expected that Eleanor wanted to talk, because that was how her mind worked. She liked to put everything neatly into compartments, especially her emotions. It had come as a surprise though, when she had asked Sophie’s expectations. She had nearly blurted out she wanted to be in her life, to love her, to care for her.

  What a pathetic fool she was even having that dream. Once Eleanor found out the truth, she was going to hate her. With a vengeance. And not only was she going to lose Eleanor’s respect and friendship, she would have to farewell her position on the paper as well. There was no way now she could ever write one word, derogatory or otherwise, about her. Or Austen either for that matter. She liked the singer. Underneath the bravado was a woman who loved and bled just like the rest of them.

  Sophie knew it was imperative to step back from the fledgling emotional bond with Eleanor, before both their lives were wrecked. She had to sever the thread between them that was fast becoming unbreakable.

  A stray tear worked its way over her cheek before she could prevent its escape. She lifted her eyes to see Eleanor studying her with a concerned expression. Embarrassed at having lost control, she hurried to the kitchen. As she dished out the cheese and egg soufflé, she pushed away all traces of sadness and anxiety. Then resolutely, she clicked on an imaginary computer mouse and attached a smile on her face.

  “This looks tasty,” said Ginny as she accepted the plate handed to her. “After the pasta last night, you wouldn’t think I’d be hungry again, but I’m starving. It must be the fresh air. Where did you learn to cook, Sophie?”

  “I worked for a year at my uncle’s restaurant when I finished school.”

  “You didn’t want to be a chef? You’ve a talent there, my girl.”

  “No, it was only to get money to go to…um…to go overseas.”

  With a smile, Ginny touched her ample stomach. “A pity. As you can see, I’m appreciative of fine dining and I can say categorically, you’re an excellent cook.” She peered over her glasses. “You and Eleanor had a pleasant night, I trust?”

  Sophie shot a quick glance across the table. Eleanor, with a flush on her cheeks, had her head down, her eyes on the plate. It was apparent by Ginny’s quizzical look that had accompanied the question, that their night together hadn’t been discussed. Sophie was about to pass it off with a vague throwaway line, but hesitated. This was an opportunity to put distance between Eleanor and herself. With a sinking heart, she said, “The night was terrific. Eleanor certainly knows how to give a girl a good time. But I’m well aware she doesn’t want to go the next step, so that’ll be it for me.” She gave a sniff. “I’m a bit naïve when it comes to sex, Ginny, but I didn’t want to become another notch on a bedpost.”

  Eleanor’s head snapped up. “Sophie! What’s gotten in to you? I said I was sorry for not being there when you woke up. I’ve never used women like that.”

  “You didn’t stay all night?” asked Ginny with a disapproving frown.

  “I wanted to think things over. What’s wrong with that?”

  Sophie stood up with a lurch. “It doesn’t matter, Ellie. Really. I’m sorry I said anything. You needed release and I was pleased to be there for you. I don’t have any regrets about last night. You gave me the best night of my life and I’ll always cherish the memory.”

  Overwhelmed, she stumbled towards the door, aware how thoroughly she had trivialised what had been so special. Eleanor would never forgive her, and though that had been the desired effect, it stung like hell. She barely made it through the kitchen door before the tears began to fall. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand when she heard a footstep behind. She turned to look over her shoulder.

  “Come with me. Please Sophie?” Eleanor asked softly. “We really need to talk.”

  For a second Sophie hesitated, but then nodded dumbly and followed her to the downstairs unit.

  “Now,” Eleanor said quietly. “Tell me what exactly that was all about.”

  “What…what do you mean?”

  “You forget what I do for a living. I’ve played opposite many actors, good and bad, and you, my dear, are one of the worst I’ve ever seen. Now tell me what possessed you to say those things to Ginny after the night we spent together.”

  “Um…it was how I felt.”

  “Nonsense. I can see you’ve been crying. Now tell me the truth.”

  Sophie slumped forward. “Of course what I said was rubbish. I was trying to protect myself. I
know what last night meant, but what future is there for us? I’m not in your class.”

  “Oh darling, we have to talk about many things, but not being my equal is certainly not one of them. Do you honestly think I’m so shallow?”

  “You don’t know enough about me. I’ve got secrets, I’m not…” She trailed off, not able to say the words.

  Eleanor skimmed her hand through Sophie’s hair, lacing the strands between her fingers. She gave a little tug. “We’ve all got secrets. You’re not a convicted felon, are you? An ax murderer?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good, then that’s all I want to know. Now lie down and I’m going to finish what I wanted to do when I woke up.”

  Sophie gazed into the penetrating stare and could only stammer, “Okay.”

  By the time she wriggled up into the centre of the bed, Eleanor was stripped off to the buff. With a quick movement, she was on the bed, and without any lead-in, had Sophie down to her knickers. Then these too were gone, ripped off impatiently. Sophie’s pulse thudded against her throat. This was a new and exciting Eleanor—a woman on a mission. Eleanor hovered over her and brought her hand down. Automatically, Sophie arched as red nails scraped down the side of her neck. Then when they began to flick her nipples, little charges of electricity rippled between her legs.

  “Do you like that?” asked Eleanor.

  Sophie silently nodded. The whole experience was so intense. Eleanor was everywhere on her body, nipping, scraping, kissing until Sophie was nearly at a screaming point. Then Eleanor moved on top and spread over her. A flood of feeling came in an all-consuming rush as Eleanor deftly manoeuvred their thighs so their centres were fused together. Sophie could feel the pressure, heady and arousing. Dazed with desire, she thrust against her in a steady rhythm. Sweat glistened on her skin—she was slick with it. Eleanor dug her fingers into her buttocks, urging her on.

  Sophie felt the rapture rise to fever point as her orgasm neared. Eleanor moved her head to kiss her. Sophie parted her lips and Eleanor’s tongue joined hers, slipping into the moistness, until finally, with a long last thrust, they climaxed together. A storm of pleasure barrelled through Sophie, so intense she couldn’t stop a scream erupting. Only after their bodies settled did Eleanor roll off. When she did, she turned towards Sophie and held her firmly against her. She didn’t say anything, but Sophie could feel her tremble, and when she looked up, she could see tears fluttering off her lashes.

  “Are you all right?” Sophie whispered.

  “Oh yes, my darling.”

  For a while, they lay still, just listening to the silence. Then Eleanor ran her hand down over her hip with a possessive sweep. “You’re mine.”

  Sophie tilted her head enough to catch her eye. “I won’t be owned, Ellie. If we’re together, we’re a partnership.”

  “Of course. This is not about a power trip for me.”

  Sophie nuzzled her hair. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “Let’s just see where this goes. So for now, we’ll just enjoy ourselves.” Eleanor patted her bottom. “Come on. We’d better see what Ginny is up to.”

  Ginny was stretched out on a lounge chair with her legs raised on the footstool, reading a book. There was no mistaking the gleam of interest in her eye as she watched them come in. She dropped her gaze to their entwined fingers. Her gaze shifted to Sophie’s face briefly, before it focused on Eleanor. “So, you made up, did you?”

  “No more personal questions, Ginny. Sophie and I have come to an understanding.”

  The pink flossy hair fluffed out in fine tentacles as she gave a hearty chuckle. “Damn long conversation.”

  Sophie couldn’t help but laugh—the older woman was good company once you got her sense of humour. “She was very persuasive,” she offered.

  “It would seem she was, young lady. By the look of you, she took you for a few turns around the cherry bush.”

  “Ginny!” said Eleanor sternly. “Behave yourself.”

  “Good lord, Ellie, it won’t hurt you to let yourself go occasionally.” Her grin became wicked. “I hope you put your stamp on her. Austen will be at lunch and I bet she’ll be back for round two.”

  “Hellooo. I’m here, Ginny,” said Sophie annoyed. “I’m nobody’s property so back off. Just because I’m with Eleanor, I don’t intend to ignore Austen. I think Ellie knows she can trust me.”

  “Ooooh…feisty too. I like that. Now I suppose I’d better crawl out of this chair and get ready to go. Apparently, these luncheons are a blast.”

  Sophie grimaced. Socializing with the hobnobs on a classy yacht was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’ll stay home.”

  “Nonsense,” said Ginny.

  “No one will miss me.”

  “I will,” said Eleanor. “Truly. I want you there with me. Please come.”

  Sophie had no defence against that plea. She nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  As Sophie was putting the finishing touches to her outfit, a thought came to her. If she couldn’t bring herself to write an exposé on Eleanor, then perhaps a series of mug shots of well-known people might be an alternative. There would be plenty of notables aboard the boat. It wasn’t exactly ethical, but time was marching on and she had yet to write one line. She’d have to hurry up to come up with something.

  Happier now she had a plan, she pinned the mini-camera disguised as a brooch to her top. Then she slipped the electronic control into the pocket of her slacks.

  Eleanor was already waiting in the lounge, dressed in a cornflower-blue knee-high dress with a low V neckline and a pair of Gucci gold sandals. She looked every bit the star. With a glance down at her own clothes, Sophie silently blessed Brie for the trip to the Rosalie boutique. Although not top drawer, the flared pants and off-one-shoulder top wouldn’t be out of place amongst the designer labels.

  Ginny had been picked up earlier by one of the crew, which left them to make their way down to the yacht at their leisure. “Ready?” asked Eleanor.

  “Let’s go.” She bumped Eleanor’s shoulder. “You look very chic.”

  A light laugh came. “Ah…clothes do not make the woman.”

  “Yeah. But it certainly helps,” said Sophie dryly.

  A cooler change had come in through the morning, a light breeze rippling the air as they drove to the jetty. The sunlight seemed softer today, and lay like silk over the water. Their hands were clasped on the way down, but when they reached the jetty, Eleanor moved away until there was a respectable distance between them. Sophie stiffened her shoulders, irritated. Aware she was overreacting, it hurt they had to hide how they felt about each other.

  The luxury vessel was huge, festivities already in full swing when they reached the top deck. Fascinated, she looked around. Not the sedate luncheon she had expected. Most of the guests were in party mode, the boat festooned with balloons and streamers. Some danced on a side deck while others stood in groups to chat. Sophie smiled as she followed Eleanor into the reception room. The star certainly knew how to make an entrance as she swept majestically into the room amidst intakes of breath. They worked their way through the crowd until they reached Ginny, who was drolly reeling off one of her jokes. Her face lit up when she spied them, and she tipped her head to kiss Eleanor’s cheek. She gave Sophie a friendly pat on the arm.

  Someone thrust a glass of champagne into Sophie’s hand and deftly eased her aside to take her place next to Eleanor. The rest surged back around. Relegated now to the edge of the group, Sophie studied the woman who had given her the drink. She was tall and slender, somewhere in her late thirties, dressed in a stylish green pantsuit with subtle white stripes. Her shoulder-length dark hair was coiled casually around a striking face. Eyes, smoky grey, sparkled as she gazed at Eleanor. Annoyance stabbed through Sophie. She took a gulp from the flute as she watched Eleanor’s crimson lips break into a wide smile at something the woman said. Sophie snapped off a couple of shots of the woman, determined to look her up later. She hop
ed she was someone important and hated having her picture in the paper. It would serve her right to find herself in a half page spread.

  Sophie’s gaze wandered around the room, looking for more photo fodder. The rich and powerful seemed less daunting now they were letting their hair down. Being more an intellectual group rather than A-listers, few artificial boobs or spray tans were evident. She grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, took a swig and smacked her lips. Yum! It certainly beat the el cheapo stuff they served at her uncle’s restaurant. That tasted like lolly water, though had the kick of a mule’s hind leg.

  “Do you know Eleanor Godwin well? I saw you come in with her,” a male voice asked.

  She turned to see a handsome middle-aged man in a fine Italian suit behind her. His hopeful expression belied how casual the enquiry sounded. Sophie groaned. Another damn would-be suitor. “I work for her.”

  “Would you like another drink?”

  “No thanks. I still have one.” She waved her glass.

  “So, how long have you been in her employ?”

  “Long enough. Why?”

  He smoothed his goatee in a reflective gesture. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry. I was merely interested in meeting her.”

  Sophie eyed him with irritation. “Sorry. If you want to meet her, line up with the rest. I wouldn’t presume to encroach on her privacy.” With a flick of her finger, she caught a snap of him before she moved off quickly. She seethed as she headed out to the dancers to see if there were any famous faces out there. The hide of him. What did he think she was? Eleanor’s flipping dating service?

  The dancers were far more in the party mood than those chatting. In fact, some looked like they hadn’t even gone to bed. Sophie recognized the CEO of an investment bank draped over a Kim Kardashian lookalike. From the way he was fondling her butt, Sophie doubted she was his wife. When they began to improvise some dirty dancing moves, she took a snap and moved on. Eventually she left that crowd to their hops, shuffles, and gyrations, to where Austen lounged with a group of bohemian-looking women.