by Susan Lewis
‘Paint?’ she echoed, unable to take her eyes from his.
‘Yes, paint. Oil paint. Have I never told you about my little hobby?’
She shook her head.
‘Come with me,’ he smiled.
A few minutes later they were standing inside a small studio at the rear of the flat that Corrie hadn’t even known existed until now. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted only to get away from him, but her eyes moved slowly over the artist’s paraphernalia scattered about the room, until they finally came to rest on a chair in front of an empty easel. On it was a palette daubed with red paint.
She knew Luke was watching her, waiting for her to speak, but she just didn’t know what to say. Inside her head there was only an amorphous jumble of thoughts which just refused to take shape.
To her unutterable relief the doorbell rang then and he left her alone to go and answer it.
A few seconds later, after quietly closing the studio door behind her, Corrie stood in the narrow stone corridor leading back into the flat. She was making an effort to pull herself together. Annalise had obviously arrived, and she should go to say hello, but she couldn’t, not yet anyway. She had to think. She had to ask herself why on earth she had responded the way she had to the paint-encrusted shirt, and, more importantly, why Luke thought she suspected him of murder? She didn’t, at least she hadn’t – until now. But she still didn’t, did she? No, of course not, though if she really thought about it, she was now, tonight, convinced that he knew who had done it. She squeezed her eyes tightly. There was a thought, somewhere at the back of her mind, pushing wildly against all the others trying to get to the front. But every time it so much as probed her consciousness every other thought in her head seemed to knit into such a solid mass that there was no way it could get through.
Hearing voices she lifted her head, then her heart somersaulted so violently that she actually felt the blood drain from her face, and at the same time her mind emptied of everything but the fact that it wasn’t Annalise who had arrived at all, for that voice she could hear, the one with the American accent, could only be Cristos Bennati’s. Any minute now she was going to meet the man who lit up just about every fantasy she’d ever had. For one panic-stricken moment she wanted to run. There seemed to be so much happening at once that she just couldn’t handle it.
She took a deep breath, tried to make herself move and found that she couldn’t. ‘For God’s sake, grow up!’ she muttered angrily to herself. Her fists were clenching and unclenching and she was breathing very heavily now. Then all of a sudden the absurdity of her behaviour struck her and she started to grin. Were either Paula or Felicity able to see her now, trapped here in a stone hallway trying to pluck up the courage to meet Bennati, they would just die laughing. But Corrie couldn’t laugh herself, she was too sick with nerves.
Placing her fingers against her temples she willed herself to keep the past few minutes out of her mind, to concentrate now on what she felt to be the most important event of her life.
Finally she was ready to push the door open. She did, and walked into the sitting room. Cristos and Luke were standing close together over Luke’s desk, and Cristos was writing something down on a pad he was holding. They both turned as Corrie came in, and Corrie, who had a happy smile planted on her face, felt the corners start to droop as her entire body threatened to go limp.
He was so much darker than she’d expected – and taller, taller even than Luke. His long, jet black hair was an unruly mess, his jeans were worn and torn, and his pale blue cotton shirt had seen better days too. That he had neither showered nor changed before coming here was obvious, not only from his clothes, but from the dark shadow on his chin. But what Corrie couldn’t believe, what was holding her rooted to the spot, were his incredible eyes. They looked … well, they were so absorbing she felt as though she was sinking right into them. She tried to pull herself together, but all she could do was gape in blind adoration as she asked herself how on earth it was possible for one man to be so sensationally attractive.
‘Corrie! Come and meet Cristos Bennati,’ Luke said.
In a state of sublime unreality Corrie crossed the room. She knew Cristos was still watching her, but now she was unable to meet his eyes.
‘Cristos, this is Corrie Browne, the one I was telling you about,’ Luke chuckled. ‘She’s been dying to meet you so be nice to her, won’t you?’
This was just what Corrie needed to bring her crashing back to earth. ‘Luke is very good at embarrassing people,’ she said, sending him a daggered look. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Mr Bennati.’
‘Cristos. It’s good to meet you too, Corrie.’
He shook her hand and she tried not to be overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually touching her.
‘I’ve seen all your films,’ she said, trying to sound breezy but only succeeding in sounding trite. ‘I particularly liked the one with David Easton in … Well, you’ve done a couple of films with him, haven’t you? It was the one … I know, it was called Never Too Far. You remember the one, it was where he operated … What am I talking about, you know your own films.’ Why was God doing this to her? Why was He denying her control of her own tongue? ‘I saw your latest film twice,’ she went on. ‘It was amazing. It must be so wonderful to have a talent like yours.’ Oh yuk! Did she really say that? But it didn’t seem she was finished yet. ‘You’re absolutely my favourite director. Well, of course, I’m not the only one to think that. You’ve got such an enormous following. I imagine that’s because you’re so dedicated to what you do. I know you are, because it’s probably the most consistent thing I’ve read about you. Anyway, it shows in your films …’
As she rambled on and on Cristos was smiling politely, but it was obvious, even to Corrie, that he was no longer listening, and eventually she managed to rein in her tongue. Almost immediately Cristos turned his attention back to Luke.
Corrie sat down, so hot with embarrassment it seemed to be oozing from her pores. It was some while before she could bring herself to look at him again, though she was registering vaguely what he was telling Luke about some jerk of a location manager. When eventually her embarrassment started to abate, she began to feel annoyed, as though it was Cristos’s fault that she had made a fool of herself. But the evening wasn’t over yet, she could, and would, try again as soon as she got the chance. For the moment, both he and Luke seemed to have forgotten she was in the room.
She lifted her head to look at him again, but didn’t get very far before she found her eyes glued to the bulge at the front of his jeans. She couldn’t believe it. She’d never looked at a man that way before. But his physique was so compelling she just couldn’t tear her eyes away. She forced herself to, and standing up wandered shakily across to the drinks cabinet.
‘Can I get either of you a drink?’ she shouted.
They both turned to her in amazement, and she felt herself turn almost purple with embarrassment. She couldn’t even seem to control the level of her voice.
She had her back to them now, but caught the amusement in Luke’s voice as he told her what he wanted.
‘And I’ll have a scotch,’ Cristos added.
As she poured the drinks she was giving herself the stiffest talking to, but a few minutes later, after she had given them their drinks and was once again back on the sofa, she found herself studying his shoulders, his hands, his legs until she suddenly realized that she was in the middle of the most astonishingly erotic fantasy she’d ever had. She was so shocked that she actually burst out laughing. Both Luke and Cristos, who were now sitting down too, looked at her. Cristos seemed irritated, as though he had been forced to remember the presence of a giggly schoolgirl and Corrie’s laughter died instantly. How dare he look at her like that! Just who the hell did he think he was anyway? Her head spun towards Luke then, as he actually laughed out loud at the outrage gleaming in Corrie’s eyes.
‘So what do you do?’ Cristos asked, as Luke got up to answer the door.
Corrie eyed him with marked hostility. ‘You mean when I’m not having sexual fantasies about you?’ she responded haughtily. ‘That was what made me laugh, you know.’
The corner of Cristos’s mouth lifted, along with one eyebrow. Then he swept an unhurried look the entire length of her body. ‘Was I good?’ he asked.
Oh my God, what was she going to say to that? ‘As you heard,’ she replied smoothly, ‘it made me laugh.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Actually, it robbed me of the urge to tear off all my clothes and beg you to make love to me on the instant.’
He grinned and Corrie, who simply couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth, melted.
‘To answer your question,’ she said, much gratified by the fact that she hadn’t yet – at least during this conversation – blushed, ‘I’m a programme researcher. In other words I find and develop the ideas …’
‘I know what a researcher does,’ he interrupted. Then he smiled again and this time, to her dismay, Corrie felt her colour rising.
‘Have you found any locations yet?’ she asked, crossing her legs and bouncing her hair with her fingers.
‘Not one.’
‘What is the film about?’
He was about to answer when Annalise and Luke came into the room.
‘So sorry I’m late,’ Annalise gushed, crossing the room to embrace Corrie. ‘Daddy called in and I just couldn’t get away.’
She turned to Cristos, and as Luke introduced her Corrie noticed immediately the spark of appreciation in his eyes as he shook Annalise’s hand. Oh well, Corrie told herself, swallowing hard on her jealousy, she was insane to have thought she could impress a man like Bennati in the first place.
Miserably she watched him as he sat back down again, then to her surprise, as her eyes reached his, she found that he was watching her. But there was such a knowing smile on his lips, as though he could read her thoughts, that before Corrie could stop herself she had slammed her eyes closed and looked away.
‘You were asking what the film was about,’ he reminded her.
Corrie felt sick. ‘Mmm,’ she grunted, tossing her head. ‘So I was.’ If he preferred Annalise to her then that was up to him, but she was going to wipe that smug smile off his face as far as she was concerned. He might like to think that every woman in the world fancied the pants off him, well now he was going to find one who didn’t!
‘Did you still want to know, or did you go off the idea?’ he asked.
‘Oh no, no,’ she said, wishing that Annalise and Luke weren’t watching her with such evident delight. ‘I’d like to hear.’
‘Well it’s kind of a difficult story to explain, but it’s based on the book Past Lives Present,’ he said. ‘I guess you won’t have read it, since it’s not published here in Britain yet. If you’re interested, though, I’ll have my assistant mail you a copy.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Corrie said, appalling herself by how off-hand she sounded. Then to compound matters even further she added, ‘I’ll try to get round to reading it sometime, but I’m so busy these days I don’t get a lot of time for reading.’
Annalise was gawping at her in amazement, and Corrie’s expression was much the same as she looked back. She just couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d never been so rude to anyone in her life, but words were just spurting out of her mouth like anarchic missiles.
She turned back to Cristos. ‘Of course,’ she said, with her eyebrows arched so high they were half way to her hairline, ‘I’ll make a special effort for this book – now that I’ve met you!’
She sounded so unbelievably patronizing that she longed to smack herself across the face. A bubble of laughter escaped her at that, as she imagined how they might all react if she actually did. But, deciding that the only thing she could do now was keep her lips firmly clamped together, she stared down at her drink feeling more wretched and more angry with each passing minute. She had so desperately wanted to make an impression on him, but she could see now that he was so well used to dealing with star-struck females like her that even her rudeness was commonplace, and it was unlikely he’d get even as far as the front door before forgetting her very existence.
It was ten minutes or more before Corrie spoke again. ‘Is it a problem for you?’ she suddenly blurted out. ‘I mean being so good-looking.’
When Cristos turned to look at her she saw straight away that he was trying very hard not to laugh. Luke was less successful, for Corrie heard him snigger before he covered his mouth with his hand. Corrie was on fire.
‘How do you mean, a problem?’ Cristos asked.
Corrie shrugged. ‘Well, I was just thinking that women who are very good-looking find it hard to get themselves taken seriously. I wondered if it was the same for a man.’
‘Not so’s I’ve noticed,’ Cristos answered.
‘Well, I guess you wouldn’t in your position,’ Corrie said.
Not long after that Cristos announced he was leaving. Corrie immediately looked at her watch and claimed that she too must be getting along. Cristos glanced at her with mild surprise, and she wanted to die. Obviously he thought she was engineering their joint departure, and already in his mind he was probably working out a way to be rid of her. Well, it was too late now, she’d only end up in an even bigger mess if she tried to backtrack.
As they walked down the stairs together Cristos was ahead of her, and Corrie prayed that he hadn’t heard the yell of laughter coming from Luke’s flat as Luke closed the door. But he was sure to have, and Corrie felt so totally foolish that for a moment she wanted to cry. But, as they rounded a corner of the stairs, and she watched him adoringly from behind, her spirits underwent a sudden lift. Perhaps they would get a few minutes together walking along the street. If nothing else it might give her a chance to redeem herself.
‘Uh, um, Cristos?’ she said, as he walked out through the front door.
‘What’s that?’ he asked, not even looking back.
‘Well, I’m sorry if I sounded … Back there, in Luke’s …’
‘Forget it,’ he told her.
‘Well, you see, I’m not normally …’
‘Taxi!’ he shouted, and to Corrie’s unutterable frustration a cab pulled right alongside them.
‘It’s all right,’ she told him loftily, as he started to get in, ‘I’ll take the next one.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘can I give you a ride somewhere?’
‘No. It’s quite all right. I don’t mind waiting.’
He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ and with that he slammed the door and the taxi drove away.
Twenty minutes later Corrie was back at her studio and on the phone to Paula.
‘It was a disaster,’ she cried, gulping at a glass of wine. ‘An unmitigated disaster.’
‘So what happened?’ Paula demanded. ‘What did you do?’
By the time Corrie had finished relating the brief hour she’d spent in Cristos Bennati’s company Paula was beside herself laughing. ‘And you reckon you didn’t make an impression?’ she gasped. ‘Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have been there.’
‘Well apart from my mortification you didn’t miss much,’ Corrie told her. ‘I mean he’s not what I expected at all. Oh, he’s good-looking all right, too damned good-looking if you ask me, and God, does he know it! He didn’t really impress me though, I mean not as much as I thought he would …’
‘Corrie, this is me you’re talking to.’
‘I know who I’m talking to,’ Corrie retorted. ‘And I’m telling you that I didn’t fancy him after all …’
‘Corrie!’
‘I didn’t. Well, OK, I did, but he made me feel such a prat … All right, it was me who did that … But it was his fault. He made me say things I didn’t mean …’
‘Well how did he do that?’
‘He just looked at me, that’s how he did it.’
There was a silence at the end of the line, and Corrie took a de
ep breath which she eventually let go on a long sigh of resignation. ‘Paula,’ she said mournfully, ‘I think I’ve fallen in love. I hate him, I detest him, I never want to see him again in my life … But he’s the sexiest man alive, and I wanted to tear his clothes off right there and then and beg him to take me. The trouble was he fancied Annalise, well at least he looked at her like he did – he just looked at me as though he wished I would go away. I’m in agony, Paula. He’s the only man I’ve ever met who’s had anything like that effect on me.’
‘Well at least you’ve met him,’ Paula reminded her.
‘Yes, at least I’ve met him.’
‘Oh come on, don’t sound so dejected. I mean what else were you expecting? That he’d fall at your feet and declare undying love?’
‘It would have done for starters.’
‘You shouldn’t aim so high,’ Paula laughed. ‘He’s a major film director, Corrie, he’s probably got women chasing him all over the world.’
‘I know, and I’m nothing special. But he’s ruined me now for any other man. Do you think I should write to him and apologize for the way I behaved?’
‘No I don’t.’
‘No, I suppose you’re right. He probably wouldn’t read it anyway. Oh, Paula, why has God blessed me with a taste in men beyond my capacity to pull? You can make that my epitaph when I die, if you like. Here lies Corrie Browne, spinster of this parish, God blessed her with a taste in men beyond her capacity to pull.’
‘Oh shut up, Corrie. He’s probably a bastard anyway. Now, tell me about Luke. Did you find out what happened when he went to see Radcliffe?’
‘Yes. He doesn’t know Bobby McIver, it was all a figment of my imagination.’