Chapter 17 #2
The sommelier brings two glasses of Dom Perignon. I’m vaguely aware that he’s making comments about the wine maker and the vintage. I take the opportunity to coax my eyes away from Gregory and inhale deeply, trying to push oxygen to my clouded mind.
‘Have you decided?’ Amerigo asks, holding a white pad of paper and a small pen. When he arrived at the table is anyone’s guess.
‘I. Oh. I haven’t.’ I clear my throat but it brings no more cohesion to my words.
‘Actually, Scarlett,’ Gregory interjects, ‘I know what’s good here. Perhaps I could choose for us?’
I nod and take a sip of the cool, effervescent champagne. I don’t hear the exchange between Gregory and Amerigo.
When Amerigo leaves, we’re alone again. Closing my eyes, I take another sip of bubbles. Desire wells in my throat. I’m out of control. Every logical thought I’ve had about why I shouldn’t want him has escaped me. I have to have him.
My glass is gently tugged from my lips and guided to the table. I open my eyes to find Gregory’s face unbearably close to mine, our thighs touching under the table. He sighs and the scent of his breath, cool and fresh, pervades my senses.
‘I’m going to kiss you,’ he whispers.
My entire body tenses and my breath abandons my lungs.
His palm holds my cheek. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, resting at my chin, and my body yearns for him. He lifts my head to face him and leans closer to me, like he did in the theatre, like he did at Saunders, like he did at the gala. I don’t think I’ll survive another withdrawal.
‘Please.’
His eyes dart to mine, impeding the beating of my heart.
Finally, his lips are on mine. His kiss is soft, gentle and teasing. He nips my lower lip in his and I squirm closer to him, my hips tilt towards him as I groan into his mouth. It’s everything I imagined and more, so much more.
His full lips cover mine and my tongue brushes his front teeth, receiving a moan from him that resonates right where I want him.
My fingers grab his hair at the nape of his neck and his kiss intensifies.
It’s rough, carnal and exactly how I need it.
With a firm hand on my lower back, he pulls my body towards him, my leg crossing his beneath the table, my back bowing towards him.
I finally breathe, a heavy, hot pant as our tongues entwine.
A waiter feigns a cough at the tableside. ‘Your starters.’
Instantly shifting away from him and pressing my back into the booth, I’m hot, blushing and wired like a compressed spring, ready to explode.
I smile meekly at the waiter as he places a deconstructed sushi plate in front of me.
Sashimi salmon, crisp rice, soy jelly cubes and wasabi globules.
It looks fantastic. Another waiter places a similar plate in front of Gregory.
The sommelier immediately replaces the waiters at our table and discusses our bottle of wine. Did I pick that or did he? Once again, the sommelier’s efforts are entirely wasted on my fuzzy mind.
I’ve never craved sex, never ached with the need to have a man inside me. Until now.
Staring at the reflection of the restaurant in the floor-to-ceiling window, I wonder if the other guests could see that kiss.
I wonder if they think Gregory Ryans is mine.
The restaurant is busy, each table full of finely dressed diners in twos, fours and sixes.
Everyone looks happy, conversations flow, animated hand gestures dance and laughing heads are thrown back but no words are decipherable.
Candlelight flickers in the window and wait staff float between tables carrying white plates of various sizes, wine buckets, champagne and bread rolls.
Soft jazz notes play in the background, well suited to the dimmed, purple lighting and cloths, I think.
I look to my already empty starter plate, then at Gregory’s.
We’ve both eaten like we were Oliver Twist and there was definitely no opportunity for more.
We laugh at the already empty plates. It’s a short release, pent up.
Once our dishes are taken, Gregory removes his cufflinks and rolls up his sleeves two turns.
They move further up his smooth, tanned skin as he reaches for his glass and I notice three small imperfections on this otherwise aesthetically flawless man.
With a troubled expression, he watches me across the rim of his wine glass.
‘They’re cigarette burns,’ he says.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. Did he do this to you?’
Gregory doesn’t respond but the tightening of his jaw tells me the answer.
‘Have you ever really hated anyone, Scarlett? I mean hated someone so much that the thought of what you could do to them scares you because no matter how bad it might be, you just don’t care?’
‘I thought I did.’
‘You thought you did?’
I feel my brows furrow. It’s something I’ve never admitted before but Gregory seems to have an ability to draw out sides of me that I didn’t know were buried.
‘My mother left my dad when I was a child. The first time I realised she wasn’t coming back, I wanted to, I don’t know, hurt her maybe, the way she hurt Dad. ’
‘And you don’t feel like that any more?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ve grown up, moved on, and I guess she’s become a smaller part of my life. I still feel angry when I think of my dad alone. He should have someone. He shouldn’t be going through this illness by himself.’
‘He’s got you.’
‘He has. He has me and he has Sandy but it can’t be the same for him. He hasn’t really been with anyone since my mother, that I know of. I think everyone deserves to love and be loved in return, don’t you?’
He stares at me but doesn’t respond. It’s the kind of look I want to box and keep forever.
‘You know, Scarlett, I would have understood if you hadn’t wanted to come here tonight. For many reasons. Your dad being one.’
‘I thought about not coming but I’m glad I did. Since I’ve been with you, I’ve forgotten everything else for a while. I like that you can take me out of my head, if only temporarily.’
‘That’s a feeling I understand.’
A waiter places a main course of steamed fish dressed with scallops and langoustine in front of us. Gregory glances from his plate to me and back to his plate.
‘It smells delicious,’ I say.
‘It does,’ he says without picking up his knife and fork.
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ I ask.
‘Starving.’
Everything south of my waistline pulses in response to him. I can see him consider moving closer to me but he hesitates, looking questioningly at my untouched plate of food. I inch it away from me with the tips of my fingers.
‘I’ve lost my appetite for food,’ I whisper.
Amerigo is at our table in seconds.
‘Charge my account,’ Gregory says.
* * *
Jackson is waiting outside but doesn’t step out of the car.
‘How does he always know what you’re doing?’ I croak through my dry throat.
Gregory smiles, a delectable half-curl of his lips. He reaches to open the door to the back of the Mercedes and I press my hand over his, keeping the door closed.
‘Look,’ I say, pointing to the clear, starlit sky. ‘It’s so rare there’s a night like this in the city.’
‘It’s really something,’ he says.
His eyes fall from the stars to meet mine and he gently turns me, pressing my back against the side of the car.
He tucks a loose tendril back behind my ear.
I absorb every line and curve of his face as it moves toward me.
His lips meet mine with a full embrace. It’s like a blackout. All I can think and breathe is Gregory.
‘You’re amazing,’ he whispers.
‘Kiss me again.’
My soul ignites with the second touch of his lips. His mouth moves roughly against mine until my body is begging him to take me. My rise to him and I can feel his hard length against my stomach, the final confirmation I need that the attraction is not just mine.
‘I think we ought to step inside the car,’ he says.
‘Why? Has something come up?’ I cheekily bite my bottom lip.
He smirks – a break from wearing his impenetrable superpower – as he opens the car door and ushers me inside.
The privacy screen is up, shielding us from Jackson, or him from our furious kiss, but when we hear his voice over the speaker, Gregory pulls his fingers away from the lace garter of my stockings.
‘Ah, where would you like me to go?’
Gregory looks to me for confirmation then tells Jackson to take us to his place.
‘Naturally, you live in the Shard,’ I joke as the Mercedes drives into the underground car park of one of the tallest buildings in the world.
Jackson holds open the door for me and tells Gregory he’s going to check on things in the basement – guy code for, I know exactly what your intentions are and I’ll leave you to it .
Gregory nods, then takes my hand and leads me into the lift vestibule.
When the lift doors eventually open, we step inside, where Gregory types a code then presses the button for floor sixty-four .
I run my hand from his shoulder blade to the small of his back and down to his thickset thigh.
He turns, pushing me up against the lift wall and attacks me with his kiss.
I return the ferocity, showing him everything I’ve felt and suppressed since that first pitch in his boardroom.
The looks, the touches, the sense of something in the air when we’re together that awakens a passion deep in my core.
His hips flex into mine and he pulls my body into him.
It’s game over, Scarlett Heath.
I let go of my lines, my black-and-white world, and I savour the feel of our bodies welding together.
The lift announces we’ve reached our destination: the sky.