Now what do I do, she wondered two hours later, praying that
her courage
wasn’t about to fail her.
Here were the soft lights, the slow music and the man and
woman who were supposed to fall into bed together,
but
somehow she couldn’t quite find either the words or the way to
get them there. Should she just say it? Just do
it? And what if
Nico howled with laughter at the craziness of the idea
or – even
more humiliating – rejected her
with a polite smile and an
awkward pat on the head?
Don’t even
think about it, she told herself fiercely, scarcely
listening to Nico’s scurrilous account of the reasons for the
break-up of one of the film world’s most famous
marriages.
She had to go ahead, carry out her plan, because she was
jealous and somehow revenge would shrink that jealousy.
An eye for an eye, a man for a man, she thought, boosted
by the smooth, warm Beaujolais.
Nico had brought girls home for bed
and breakfast before
now and it hadn’t bothered her. Just because she no longer had
a sex life herself, she didn’t
begrudge the rest of the world
carrying on
as if nothing had happened.
But Camilla seriously wondered whether she could ever
completely forgive Nico for sleeping with Roz. It was a form of
betrayal, and although in her heart she realized
that the reason
he hadn’t told her
about his relationship with Roz was because
he didn’t want to upset her
any more, she was still furious with
him. She
felt foolish, uninformed, a child from whom grown
ups kept secrets. She
could imagine Nico and Loulou discussing
it
together, deciding that it would be better if Camilla didn’t
know. Well,
this time it would be Roz who wouldn’t know.
But first she had to make it happen.
‘
You aren’t listening
to a word I’ve been saying,’ protested
Nico, jerking her back to the
present. He stretched, catlike, and
tilted
the half-empty wine bottle towards Camilla’s glass. ‘And
I
shall
be
asking questions later,’ he warned her, straightfaced.
It occurred to him that there might be
something on her
mind. Cami wasn’t
normally this quiet, and she seemed different tonight somehow, an air of
recklessness when she did speak combining with her usual measured wit. And
there were brief moments when she appeared almost awkward, as if she had
something to tell him, but couldn’t quite pluck up
the courage
to come out with it.
‘
Have you broken something?’ he said suddenly,
and Camilla frowned.
‘No. Why,
do you think I should?’
‘Only if
you really want to. You look a bit strange, that’s all.’
She smiled, pretending to take
offence. ‘How very debonair
of you to
say so. I cook you a brilliant steak, share your cheap
wine, listen to your appalling gossip and all you can tell me is
that
I look strange.’
‘
You look very nice,’ he teased her.
But she looked better than that; gorgeous was the rather
old-
fashioned word which sprang into his mind
as he lay back
against the grey silk cushions and surveyed Camilla
through
half-closed eyes. The silk shirt,
shimmering in the firelight,
was just transparent enough to reveal the
darker shadows of her nipples. As Betty Grable and Marilyn Monroe had in their
day
been gorgeous, so was Camilla, thought
Nico with typically
Italian appreciation. Her body had real curves and
her lightly tanned skin glowed, exuding warmth. Whenever Camilla threw back her
head and laughed, revealing white teeth and a slender
brown neck, Nico longed to take her in his arms, to run his
fingers
over that adorable body, to kiss her soft, smiling mouth.
But Camilla, unfortunately, was
off-limits. Her bruised
innocence,
her trust in him, and the recent drastic end to her marriage had forced him
into a moral corner; they had a platonic
relationship
in which he took enormous pride and pleasure,
since apart from Loulou he had never had a truly platonic
friendship with a woman. Now he had two and he
didn’t want
to lose either of them,
but, Christ, it was frustrating to want
someone like crazy and to feel impelled not to do anything
about
it.
Besides,
whereas it was perfectly OK to screw the au pair
girl, somehow sleeping with the housekeeper didn’t have quite
the
same ring to it.
‘
What are
you thinking?’ he asked idly, to change the subject, and Camilla regarded him
for several seconds, her long-lashed turquoise eyes thoughtful, before
replying.
‘
There is someone,’ she
said, breathing very shallowly,
‘whom
I very much want to go to bed with. But I don’t know
how to get them
there. What if they turned me down?’
Nico felt his heart thudding slowly
and heavily. It hadn’t
behaved
like this since he was a teenager. What did she mean,
someone?
Was she
referring to him? Was she telepathic?
Perhaps she meant someone else, he thought wildly, but the
way she was looking at him all of a sudden
made him doubt it
. . . Christ, what could he
say?
‘
Anyone who turned you down, Cami, would have to be
crazy,’ he replied, choosing every word with care. If she
meant someone else, he would die. If she meant him, he would have to
face the dilemma of choosing between the moral
decision at
which he had arrived
months ago, and the burning need he had
to make love to her right now.
The silence deepened, broken only by the intermittent
crackling of the fire. Nico could hear his own breathing.
‘
So you think,’ said
Camilla at last, her voice catching
slightly, ‘that if I just . . . went
ahead and let him know what I wanted, he wouldn’t mind too much?’
‘
I’m sure he wouldn’t.’
It was a struggle getting the words
out. Desire flooded through him as
he caught the expression in
her narrowed
eyes and he had to force himself not to move
towards her. Instead, Nico waited while Camilla apparently
thought his words over, taking great care to digest
each one.
‘You could just reach
across and touch him,’ he continued slowly,
‘
and see how he reacts.
Then you’d know for sure that he wasn’t going to reject you.’
Camilla nodded, her hair gleaming in the half-light, her
mouth still
pensive. Then, just as he was beginning to think that
she would never move, her hand stretched out, coming to rest
upon
his brown forearm.
‘Like this?’
she murmured tentatively, and Nico swallowed hard before inclining his head in
agreement.
‘Like that.’
‘And then,
should I move a little closer?’
Silently,
holding his breath now, he nodded once more. ‘Like this?’
‘Just like
that. Exactly like that . .
C
hapter 18
The situation was so erotic, so slow
and hesitant and desirable that Nico didn’t know if he could stand it. He felt
like a virgin
now, both helpless and
enthralled by the prospect of what lay ahead. He who was so experienced was the
innocent one and Camilla, whom he guessed must be light years behind him as far
as sexual experiences were concerned, was
completely in charge.
When the butterfly touch of her warm
fingers insinuated
slowly
up his arm and she edged closer still, so that he caught
the first faint breath of her perfume, Nico could no
longer help himself. Gently, he caught her other hand in his and pulled her
towards him until his mouth was inches from her own.
‘Would it be right to kiss him?’ she whispered, searching
his face with an intensity that almost melted his soul.
‘
I think that might be
the very best thing you could do,’
agreed
Nico, hearing the unsteadiness in his own voice and
aching with need for
her.
‘Like this?’
Careful, thought Camilla, pulling
away at last. I’m on my
way, but it does have to be
my
way. Keep control. Don’t even
think about how wonderful it feels. I
mustn’t lose the upper
hand.
Nico had a beguiling mouth and a
clever tongue. It was
almost impossible not to compare his kisses with Jack’s, and
there really
was
no comparison
at all, but then maybe Jack
kissed
differently when he was making love to Roz, as he had kissed differently when
he had first made love to Camilla.
But back to the present. Here she was with Nico, who was
allowing her to make all the moves and who showed absolutely
no sign at all of wanting to hurry the proceedings
along. It was
up to her to do
something, and clearly the decision to be made
next was whether she should lead him up to his bedroom or
hers, or
make love to him right here.
Until tonight, she had never done it anywhere but in bed.
That was it then, she decided with a small smile. She was
a changed woman, wasn’t she? So the floor it had to be.
‘Stand up,’ she instructed, and when Nico obeyed, her
fingers
went surely to the front of his
jeans, unzipping them with one
long,
slow movement. Their bodies touching now, she could
feel the hard warmth of his desire for her against
her stomach,
the equally unyielding
muscles of his chest and abdomen
through the gossamer silk of her shirt.
So, thought Camilla with relief, she
was, after all, still
capable of
making a man want her.
Moments later her clothes slid to the
floor to join Nico’s and
all that
existed in the world were their warm, naked bodies and that magical desire.
She had succeeded in bringing him this far; now it was
time for Nico to take the lead.
‘Your turn,’ she murmured, and he smiled, running his
index
finger lightly along the sensitive
line of her collar-bone and
gazing
with frank appreciation at the splendid swell of her
breasts.
‘You’re beautiful, Cami. You should go without clothes
more often.’
The tiny
joke was ostensibly to put her at ease, she realized, yet she wasn’t in the least
nervous. Bizarrely, it seemed that
Nico was the one more in need of
reassurance now.
‘
Remember the first
time we met?’ she said, bringing her arms up to rest lightly upon his own
shoulders. ‘I was naked
then, and I thought I’d die of embarrassment.’
‘You aren’t embarrassed now, though?’
‘How could I be?’
And then his arms closed around her,
properly, and she felt
the
unclothed heat of their bodies as they met fully for the first time. Shyly at
first his tongue probed her mouth, then his hands
were upon her hips pulling her gently against him in time with
the
rhythmic deepening of the kiss. Minutes later he sank almost
in slow motion to his knees, his mouth caressing
her breasts,
her taut stomach and her thighs. The feel of him was almost
too much for Camilla. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain unmoved.
It was vital that Nico didn’t realize how deeply he affected her. He had, after
all, done these same things with Roz.
Then he drew her down on to the rug
beside him and with
one
graceful movement rolled into position, taking his weight
with his arms. She could feel him, ready for her, resting
exactly over the most sensitive part of her body.
She waited, holding her breath and
unable now to look at
him as he began to move back and forth over her, rocking him
self gently against her until she bit
her lip in order to stop
herself crying out. She was so
ready
for him that the waiting
was almost intolerable.