Chapter 32
32
‘I’m sorry. This has never happened to me before.’ Nick lifted the bedcovers and gazed dolefully at the culprit.
It’s never happened to me before either , Jess thought, feeling as deflated as Nick’s partner in crime. It happened – she knew that, of course – but why did it have to happen to her tonight? ‘It’s OK,’ she lied.
‘It’s not you, Jessica; it’s me.’
My God, all these clichés . ‘It happens. Don’t worry about it – truly, Nick, it’s fine.’
‘Not to me it doesn’t. It’s the stress of this bloody community-centre business.’
‘It’s not going well then?’ Jess squeaked, feeling like Judas knowing what she now knew.
‘No, it’s not. This bunch of hormonal homemakers is holding everything up with their whingeing to the council. They have no idea about the real world or how much money is riding on this thing.’
Jess felt her face heat up and was glad the room was dimly lit. He wouldn’t be impressed if he knew that one of those hormonal homemakers was her best friend, and actually, she thought, she didn’t particularly care for the vehemence in his tone.
They lay side by side in his Californian king-sized bed under crisp white sheets, their heads resting on the twin pillows. At that moment in time, Jess wished she still smoked; it would have given her something to occupy herself with instead of lying next to him in an awkward silence.
The evening had started off so well, too. When they’d arrived at Nick’s, he’d unlocked the front door and she’d been assailed by a delicious smell that she’d pinpointed after several discreet sniffs as rosemary and roasting lamb. Yum – lamb was her favourite, and her mouth had watered. Nick was definitely a smooth operator. Sitting on his designer white couch, she’d watched him set the scene by lighting candles and putting on music.
He’d disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with two balloon-like wine glasses, a rich red liquid swimming well under halfway in each of them. It was delicious, and she’d made a mental vow not to knock it back – she didn’t need to go down the blackened-teeth road again.
‘Do you like it?’
‘I do. It’s very, um, full-bodied.’ She’d hoped that didn’t sound like a hair advertisement.
‘A bold, meaty red is how it was described to me. I bought it from a boutique vineyard in Mendoza, Argentina. The Argentines are voracious meat eaters, and the owner assured me that it’s the perfect accompaniment to roasted meat. I hope you like lamb?’ he’d asked, sitting down next to her, his thigh brushing hers.
‘I come from a country where the sheep used to outnumber the people, so yes, I like lamb.’ She’d smiled. In the background, his state-of-the-art stereo had begun crooning something low and throaty. Norah Jones perhaps? Jess had wondered, trying to distract herself from the warm pressure of his leg next to hers.
‘Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?’ Nick had murmured, taking her glass out of her hand and placing it on the glass-topped table in front of them. ‘That’s a beautiful dress.’
Jess had sent a telepathic thank-you to Nora and felt a shiver of anticipation as he’d moved toward her. She’d felt as if she were starring in a seduction scene from a movie, and she’d definitely hoped it would venture into the realms of the pornographic before the night ended.
He was such a good kisser; closing her eyes and leaning into him, she’d allowed herself to relax and enjoy the sensation of his body next to hers. His hands had begun to roam freely, and she’d quivered involuntarily as he’d reached her breasts, stroking them gently through the sheer fabric of her dress. But then he’d pulled away, leaving her feeling slightly bereft as he got up to tend to the meat.
‘There’s nothing worse than dry lamb,’ he’d said, tossing her a mischievous look over his shoulder, and Jess had got the distinct impression he was well aware of the state he was leaving her in.
By the time he’d served their meal, she’d composed herself again, smoothing her hair down before joining him at the opposite end of a large glass-topped table. All this glass – it was definitely not a child-friendly home, Jess had noted, imagining the field day Harry would have putting his fingerprints everywhere. But then why should it be?
Nick had excelled himself: the lamb had been cooked to perfection, the roast potatoes were crunchy on the outside and deliciously moist and fluffy on the inside, and the side serving of spring vegetables, even though it was autumn, had been al dente. Jess hadn’t been surprised by the excellence of the meal; she knew enough about Nick now to know he was the type of man who wouldn’t attempt anything unless he could do it well.
‘You obviously enjoy cooking because this is superb,’ she’d said, her knife sliding into a perfectly pink piece of lamb. Her mind had flashed back to another conversation with a surly farmer from the North who’d followed this theme and she’d shaken the images it conjured away.
‘I do when I get the time, but I have a limited repertoire.’
‘Well, it’s broader than mine.’
‘That surprises me.’ He’d raised an eyebrow. ‘I really enjoyed reading about your culinary adventures, trying all the different cuisines on offer around Dublin. It was very amusing. You’re a talented writer, Jessica.’
Jess had flushed, unused to praise and unsure how to accept the compliment gracefully, so she’d brushed it aside. ‘I managed to combine my two great loves with that series – eating and writing. It was lots of fun, but I’m afraid I’m the kind of girl who needs to be shown how to do something ten times before I master it. It all went in one ear and flew out the other.’
Nick had laughed. ‘Which country’s cuisine was your favourite?’
‘I’d have to say I enjoyed the Creole course the most. Probably because it was so different to anything I’ve tried before, but on a weekly takeaway basis, I’m definitely an Indian fan. What about you?’
‘I love Thai. There’s a great restaurant just down the road from here that I usually eat at once a week. They do wonderful fish cakes. Perhaps I could take you there and convert you sometime?’
Jess had felt her cheeks stain again. ‘That would be lovely.’ For him, she’d definitely forfeit her Malabari prawn in favour of fish cakes.
Nick had then served a wine he’d told her would offset the sweetness of the dessert he’d prepared. His knowledge of wines was impressive, Jess had thought, raising her glass to her lips. All she knew about the crushed grape was that if it was crisp and cold, then she usually liked it. As for dessert, well, it was a foregone conclusion that it wouldn’t be the Tesco’s Bavarian chocolate pie that usually made an appearance at any dinner parties she held.
It turned out to be ramekins of crème br?lée, and even she knew that was a temperamental dessert. Nick’s, however, had been set just right, and when he’d produced a miniature blowtorch to caramelise the sugar, Jess had almost swooned. Just wait until her mother heard about tonight, she’d thought, dipping her spoon into the deliciously delicate custard – Marian would go into orbit. It had been such a long time since she’d been treated like a princess, and Jess had to admit she’d loved every minute of it.
Nick had insisted she leave the dishes when she’d stood up to clear the table, suggesting they go through to the living area and enjoy a post-dinner drink instead. Her head had swum at the sight of all the different spirits on display, clustered together on a silver tray atop a unit that also housed his vast CD collection. She’d wondered what types of music other than the jazz currently playing he liked as she’d decided upon a Baileys on the rocks. Nick had opted for a whisky. It was a man’s drink, she’d thought, trying to stop her mind from wandering below the belt as she’d forced herself to pay attention to his adventures in Dubai earlier that year.
‘You make it sound like it’s built of gold.’ She’d laughed, looking at him over the rim of her glass. He’d replied that it might as well have been for the vast amounts of money that circulated around the city built on sand.
Their eyes had locked then, and she’d seen the unspoken promise of what was to come as his had darkened. A suggestive half-smile had played at the corners of his mouth, and Jess had allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her through to his bedroom, where, he’d assured her, they’d be far more comfortable.
Feeling a delicious shudder of anticipation, she’d stood almost immobilised by the bed as his hands roamed the contours of her body while his tongue had probed the inner sanctum of her mouth with a sensuous slowness that started to drive her crazy. Allowing him to unzip her dress, she’d raised her arms obligingly as he’d lifted it over her head before pushing her back on the bed. Her eyes had half closed as their arms and legs tangled together.
Nick had unhooked her bra with the precision of the well practised, and the sensation of skin against skin had been almost more than she could bear, but she’d been glad he’d left her panties on for the time being. Given what they’d cost her, she’d wanted him to get at least one good gawk at those babies before they hit the deck.
To give credit where it’s due, he had looked impressed as he’d paused mid-manoeuvre before pulling them down and allowing her to shimmy free of them. He’d stood then and began undressing slowly to reveal a taut and defined body. He definitely worked out, Jess had thought appreciatively, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she definitely didn’t.
He’d moved alongside her, and Jess had felt a tension building inside her as his hands stroked gently between her legs. Her hand had eagerly searched out his equipment – always the crucial moment. Would she be disappointed or pleasantly surprised?
As her fingers sought, found and closed around the package deal, she’d decided she wouldn’t be disappointed.
Nick had groaned and pulled away from her rhythmic stroke, leaning over to open the bedside-cabinet drawer in search of a condom.
Thunderbirds are go , she’d thought, closing her eyes, only to open them a moment later when nothing happened. Glancing down, she’d watched in horror as, like a balloon deflating without the audible hiss, it was all over rover.
And so here they were, lying side by side like two naked strangers, drowning in a huge expanse of snowy linen.
His bed was ridiculously oversized, Jess thought, risking a sideways glance. She felt a surge of pity at the sight of Nick’s normally confident features looking so uncertain. It wasn’t his fault, and as she’d said, these things did happen. Logic told her it had nothing to do with her, but of course her ego wasn’t so sure. It was hard not to take it personally; still, she needed to be the bigger person and harden up.
Oh God, she had it on the brain!
Rolling on to her side, she raised herself up on to her hip and decided to be brave because she wasn’t going to lie here in this uncomfortable silence any longer.
‘Nick, it’s really not a problem. These things happen, and like you said, you have an awful lot of stress in your life at the moment, so if you’d rather I left, then I understand. Do you want me to go?’ Her eyes were round green orbs as she looked at him, unsure as to how she would react if he told her he wanted her to go.
Nick shook his head emphatically, looking like a little boy who’d lost the running race and forfeited first prize. ‘No, of course I don’t want you to go. I wanted tonight to be just right, and it’s kind of humiliating, that’s all.’ He managed a wry smile. ‘I’m only thirty-nine, so I didn’t think I qualified for Viagra just yet, but apparently I was wrong.’
‘I’m sure it was just a one-off,’ Jess soothed.
‘I hope so.’ His expression was woeful. ‘I can’t promise I’ll be good company.’ Reaching over, he stroked her arm. ‘But I’d like you to stay, and please believe me when I tell you that it’s nothing to do with you. You’re a beautiful woman, Jessica, and what just happened is most definitely down to me, not you.’
Suddenly Jess didn’t care if they lived in harmonious celibacy for the rest of their days; it had been a long time since a man had showered her with such compliments. She wasn’t going anywhere.
‘I’ve always been driven when it comes to business, and I don’t know how or when to switch off.’
‘I can imagine how high pressured your line of work is,’ she stroked his cheek. Actually, she wouldn’t have a clue, but it sounded good.
‘You’re great. You know that, don’t you?’ he said, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.
He stretched his arm out along the pillow in invitation, and Jess moved under it, laying her head on his shoulder. Her body moulded into his, and she relaxed, enjoying the sensation of being held – though not quite as much as she’d been enjoying other sensations earlier. Still, she’d take what she could get, she decided as her eyes grew heavy and began to close. The wine, the dinner, the Baileys and her sexual misadventures had taken their toll, and with a little sigh, Jess drifted into oblivion.