Lovers In The Afternoon. Кэрол Мортимер
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and hopefully no one would remember that she was the woman who had tripped on her way back from powdering her nose and pushed some poor unfortunate diner’s face into his dinner!
‘Good evening, Mr Faulkner,’ the maitre d’ greeted warmly, his eyes widening warily as he saw his companion. ‘Madam,’ he greeted stiffly.
He remembered her! It had been over a year ago now, and this man still remembered her. He probably didn’t have many people who came here and assaulted another diner for no reason!
‘Do we have to eat here?’ she demanded of Adam in desperation as they followed the other man to their table.
His brows rose. ‘You don’t like the restaurant? Or perhaps the French cuisine isn’t to your liking?’
‘I love it,’ she sighed. I just don’t feel—comfortable here, that’s all,’ she mumbled.
‘Thanks, Henri,’ Adam dismissed the other man, pulling out her chair for her himself. ‘Just relax, Leonie.’ His hands were warm on her shoulders as he leant forward to speak softly in her ear, his breath gently ruffling her hair.
She felt strangely bereft when he removed his hands and went to sit opposite her, their table in a quietly intimate part of the restaurant. As the waiter poured the wine that had been waiting for them, she could feel the tingling of danger along her spine, wary of this romantic setting, wary of this game Adam was playing with her.
‘Adam——’
‘Try the wine,’ he urged huskily.
‘When are we going to discuss the work on your office suite?’ she asked determinedly.
‘Tomorrow. Before lunch.’
‘About lunch——’
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll like the restaurant I’ve chosen for us,’ he sipped his own wine. ‘Please try it,’ he encouraged throatily.
She sighed her impatience, ignoring the glass of wine. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘This?’ he prompted softly.
She shrugged. ‘The charm, the restaurant, dinner, the wine. Why, Adam? And don’t say to atone for the lift breaking down with me in it because I won’t believe you.’
‘You’re right,’ he nodded, perfectly relaxed as he leant back in his chair, dismissing the waiter as he arrived to take their order. ‘I had this table booked for us tonight before I even realised you were stuck in the lift.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t you usually go out for business meals with your prospective clients?’
‘Of course,’ she sighed. ‘But it’s usually lunch, and so far we haven’t discussed any business.’
‘We will,’ he promised. ‘Tomorrow.’
‘Why not now?’
He shrugged at the determination in her face. ‘Maybe after we’ve eaten,’ he compromised.
This time he didn’t wave the waiter away when he came to take their order, and with the arrival of their first and consequent courses there wasn’t a lot of time for conversation. And by the time they got to the coffee stage of their meal Leonie had to admit that she didn’t give a damn if they ever discussed business, feeling numb from the head down, the wine one of her favourites, her glass constantly refilled as soon as she had taken a few sips, the food as delicious as she remembered, forgetting her diet for this one night.
‘You look like a well-fed cat,’ Adam eyed her appreciatively.
‘I feel like a very relaxed one, if you know what I mean,’ she smiled happily.
He grinned. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’
He was so handsome, so ruggedly good looking, that he made her senses spin. Or was that the wine? No, she was sure it was him. And he had been so patient with her when she knocked a glass of wine all over the table, had dismissed the anxious waiter to mop up the surplus liquid himself, had got down on the floor and helped her pick up the contents of her handbag when she accidentally opened it up the wrong way and it all fell out, had even chuckled a little when she knocked the waiter’s arm and ended up with a potato in her lap. Yes, he had been very charming.
‘Shall we go?’ he suggested throatily as she smiled dreamily at him.
‘Why not?’ She stood up, narrowly avoiding another table as she turned too suddenly. ‘I never go back to the same place twice if I can avoid it,’ she assured him happily.
‘It must be difficult finding new restaurants,’ he smiled, a smile that oozed sensuality.
‘I rarely eat out,’ she dismissed. ‘It’s safer that way, for other diners, I mean,’ she explained as they went outside, surprised to see it was already dark, a glance at her watch telling her it was almost ten o’clock. They had been in the restaurant hours!
His mouth quirked. ‘I noticed you have a tendency to—well, to——’
‘Drop things, knock things, bump into things,’ she finished obligingly. ‘My husband found it very irritating,’ she added challengingly.
‘Really?’ Adam sounded non-committal.
‘Yes. He—Where are we going?’ she frowned as she realised they were in a part of London she didn’t know very well, the exclusive residential area.
‘My apartment.’
Leonie blinked as they entered the underground car-park. ‘You live here?’ she frowned.
‘Since my separation,’ he nodded, coming round to open her door for her.
Things were happening too fast, much too fast she realised as they entered the spacious apartment, barely having time to notice its elegant comfort before Adam swept her into his arms, his eyes glittering darkly with desire.
‘I’ve wanted to do this ever since the lift doors opened and I saw you grovelling about on the floor,’ he announced raggedly before his mouth claimed hers.
She wanted to ask him what he found so romantic about a woman making a fool of herself, but the magic of his kiss put all other thoughts from her mind, drawing her into him with the sensuous movement of his mouth, his arms beneath the jacket of her suit, his hands warm through the thin material of her blouse and camisole, his thighs hardening against her as his hands moved down to cup her buttocks and pull her into him.
The effects of the brandy and wine miraculously disappeared to be replaced by something equally as heady, sexual pleasure. She had heard all the old clichés about women who were no longer married, had scorned the idea of falling into that sexual trap herself knowing how little pleasure she had found in her marriage bed, and yet she knew that she wanted Adam. And he wanted her, there could be no doubting that.
Her lips parted beneath the assault of his tongue, knowing it was merely a facsimile of the lovemaking they really wanted, Leonie feeling filled and possessed by that moist warmth, drawing him deeper into her as she returned the attack.
Adam’s breathing was ragged as he pulled away to kiss her throat, peeling the jacket expertly from her shoulders, throwing it to one side, beginning to release the buttons to her blouse, his hands sure in their movements, although they trembled slightly with anticipation.
It was this slight crack in his supreme self-confidence that encouraged Leonie to do some undressing of her own, his own jacket joining hers on the floor, his waistcoat quickly following, her fingers hesitating at the buttons of his shirt.
‘Please,’ he encouraged achingly.
Her own hands shook as she revealed the muscled smoothness of his chest, the dark hair there silvered with grey. He was beautiful without the trappings of the successful businessman, wearing only tailored trousers now, his arousal barely contained.
‘Leonie!’