Love Letters (30 page)

The table shot away from under them as they collapsed on to it and she would have landed on the floor if he hadn’t caught her and moved her round so he was taking their combined weight. He released her mouth for an instant, but only long enough for them to draw breath before he kissed her again.

Laura was swooning, a tiny part of her registering that although she’d read of this happening in books she hadn’t believed it really happened. As a unit, they moved to the sitting room, Dermot kicking open the door, hauling them both through it and on to the sofa. It ejected them on to the floor in seconds.

Dermot pulled her T-shirt out of her jeans and up. He was kissing her tummy, fiddling with the button of her jeans when he seemed to come to his senses. ‘Laura? Do you want this?’

‘Mmm,’ she said, nodding her head urgently, thinking that if he stopped she would die. She knew she had the rest of her life to regret it but she felt she’d rather regret something she’d done than something she hadn’t.

Now it was she pulling at his clothes, freeing his shirt so she could feel his skin under her fingers, against her cheek.

‘We don’t want carpet burn,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

She wanted to object, sure that if they went upstairs her sanity would return, and she didn’t want it to. She didn’t have a chance to say anything. He took hold of her wrist and dragged her behind him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

She just had long enough to take in the fact that there was a clean sheet on the bed, untucked, not straight but clean, before he was unzipping her jeans and pulling them down, dragging off her socks before throwing her on to the bed. She started to giggle helplessly, delirious in her happiness.

‘We’ve been here before,’ he breathed. ‘Do you want to back out?’

‘No. I don’t.’

‘Any time you change your mind . . .’

‘I won’t change my mind. I’m stone-cold sober, and I won’t change my mind.’

‘I won’t either,’ he breathed.

After the first breathless rush they experienced downstairs, Dermot now took his time, removing the remainder of Laura’s clothes with sensual care. The rest of his own clothes were pulled off and kicked away.

Laura swallowed as she returned his gaze, serious and tender now. Then, lying on the bed next to her, he supported himself with his arm and continued to gaze at her body. Instead of feeling self-conscious she felt like a flower opening under the warmth of the sun.

‘You are so beautiful, darling Laura,’ he breathed, and she felt beautiful and so sexy she thought she’d dissolve.

Then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and drew his finger down her cheek, along her jawline to her chin before going back to her ear, down her neck to her shoulder.

‘Your skin is like silk. Sorry, that’s not a very original way to describe it but it’s the best I can do at the moment.’

She giggled lovingly. ‘It’s all right, I don’t mind if you don’t make love to me in iambic pentameters.’

He kissed the inside of her elbow. ‘That’s good, I much prefer free verse.’

‘And free love,’ she murmured, but he may not have heard because he didn’t answer.

At first Laura was unnerved by the sensations he created with his mouth, his fingers, his breath. But his honeyed reassurances made her relax and she allowed herself to feel and respond. His skin felt like silk too, but she didn’t mention it, just brushed her lips over the curve of his arm, feeling the shape of his muscles.

Later, when he paid intimate attention to her with his lips and tongue, she thought the sensation might overwhelm her and she resisted. And then it overcame her resistance and she almost lost consciousness. This time with pleasure.

Much later she said, ‘Goodness me. Is it always like that?’

He laughed, still slightly breathless. ‘No, it is not always like that. Chemistry is something you can’t fake. We’ve set a very high standard for your first time.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I was absolutely determined to give you the very best experience I possibly could but if you hadn’t responded as you did, it wouldn’t have been anything like so wonderful.’ He pulled her a little closer to him. ‘You’re a natural.’

‘Am I? That’s nice. I always thought I’d be rubbish at lovemaking.’ A memory floated into her mind. ‘Monica said you weren’t a “novice ride”.’

She heard the rumble in his chest as he laughed. ‘Well, I don’t suppose I am, usually, but you and I do seem to have a special something.’ He chuckled again. ‘When you tell her all about it, don’t forget to tell Monica that I did use a condom.’

‘Perhaps I won’t tell her all about it.’ Just then Laura didn’t like the thought of sharing their special secret.

‘She’ll get it out of you. You don’t have to tell her the details.’

‘Certainly not!’ Recalling some of the details made her blush and go gooey all over again. Had he really done those things? And had she really liked them so much?

‘But you haven’t forgotten any of the details?’

‘No . . .’

‘Well, just to make sure you don’t, I think we’ll repeat the exercise . . .’

Chapter Fifteen

They ‘repeated the exercise’ on and off all night. Laura woke early. She hadn’t eaten much the day before and was now absolutely ravenous. Although she didn’t think she’d moved, she must have because Dermot stirred.

‘All right?’ he muttered into her neck.

‘Mm, but absolutely starving!’ She sighed happily as she thought about why.

‘Mm, me too.’ Dermot stretched. ‘Is there any food left?’

‘I don’t think so. I think you ate everything.’

‘In which case, my darling, I’d better get up and buy some breakfast. I have this peculiar urge for kedgeree.’ He slid out of bed and started finding his clothes.

‘That sounds complicated,’ said Laura, having decided it was better not to watch him move about the place, stark naked, not if she was going to have to wait before they could make love again. Her hunger was momentarily forgotten.

‘Oh, it’s not,’ said Dermot. ‘They have it in a packet. You just put it in a pan, add butter and a bit of cream and heat slowly. They get it in especially for me at the shop. Thank goodness they’re keeping their holiday hours or they wouldn’t be open yet.’ He pulled on his jeans. He was halfway into his shirt when he hesitated.

‘What?’ Laura was half hoping that he had forgotten his hunger too and just wanted to get back into bed.

‘Nothing.’ He carried on getting dressed.

Laura watched him, thinking, and then said, ‘I’ve just realised what the problem is.’ She sat up. ‘If you go to the shop there’ll be an almighty fuss, everyone will pounce on you and you’ll be ages.’

He grinned. ‘I’ll be looking so damn pleased with myself they’ll know exactly what I’ve been up to. They will all want to talk.’

Laura scrambled out of bed. ‘I’ll go. I can’t lie here, starving to death, waiting for you to stop gossiping. Make me a list. Here’s an old receipt and a pencil.’

He chuckled and started to write. ‘Being untidy has its advantages, you can always find something to write on.’

‘I thought writers all kept notebooks by their beds.’

‘Not all writers.’

She had got most of her clothes on when she turned to Dermot, who had slid back to bed, still wearing his jeans. ‘Can I just ask you something?’

‘Anything.’

His look was so full of lust she turned away, smiling. That could come later, when she’d had something to eat. ‘Did you change the sheet yesterday, before you came down, because you knew what would happen?’

‘I changed it because I knew what I wanted to happen, but I never thought it would. It was also pretty disgusting. I may be a slob but I change my bed linen once a year, whether it needs it or not.’

Laughing, she went downstairs and, having found her handbag, let herself out of the house.

She was fairly sure everyone would know exactly what she’d been up to when she went back to the shop but, with luck, the same people wouldn’t be working there this morning. She thought what to add to Dermot’s list; she wasn’t sure she wanted to eat kedgeree, although it did sound nice. Some more bread and ham would be useful and maybe some orange juice and croissants if the shop had any.

Her head was full of plans about what they’d like to eat and where they’d like to eat it when she went into the shop. She said a breezy hello without making eye contact and slipped down an aisle out of sight, hoping they wouldn’t ask her about Dermot.

All would have been well if she’d been able to find the packet kedgeree he was so intent on having. She had to ask.

While the right place was being pointed out to her, along with a lot of ‘You’re back again soon. So how was the old reprobate?’ type conversation, a tall, thin woman came up to Laura. Somewhat older than she was, with a skin that had been exposed to the weather, she had dark hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck and wore a crisp white shirt tucked into jeans.

‘So you’re after Dermot’s kedgeree, are you?’ The woman looked her up and down. ‘You know that’s what he always wants to eat after sex?’ She laughed, pretending she’d been joking.

‘I didn’t know,’ said Laura, blushing at the mention of sex and because the woman was inspecting her as if she were a horse she was considering buying.

‘Oh yes. He says it restores the “vital juices”.’ The woman’s teeth were a little crooked and discoloured and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Never before had Laura felt herself to be so disliked, especially by a complete stranger. The feeling was mutual – there was something about this woman that made Laura instantly bristle.

‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that,’ said Laura, trying to move so she could do her shopping.

The woman barred her way. ‘Oh yes. But if you tell him I’m back your services won’t be required any more.’

‘Oh, are you his cleaner, then?’ Laura’s inner bitch rose up and snapped.

That did discomfort the woman a little, but not for long. ‘No, no I’m not his cleaner. Just tell him I’m back, will you?’ Another false smile was directed at Laura.

‘You’ll need to tell me who you are.’ Laura was not going to rise any further to this woman’s bait.

The woman laughed again. ‘Oh no, he’ll know who I am when you describe me. Dermot and I are very old – friends.’

Laura tried hard to fight off all the unpleasant feelings the woman had aroused in her on the way back to Dermot’s. She had made her feel like a tart, frankly, and she didn’t know if she would ever stop feeling like one. Almost the worst part was she felt that the whole shop knew she had slept with Dermot, and thought she was a tart too. She didn’t like the feeling. And what had the woman meant about them being old friends? It was as if she’d been warning her off. And all that about his usual breakfast. She felt cheapened and hurt and used; an over-riding desire to get away from this place as quickly as possible overcame her. But when she had checked the availability of the local taxi service and the man had said he’d take her to the airport the moment she gave him the call, it didn’t really make her feel any better. He obviously thought Dermot would want rid of her as soon as possible. Her wonderfully happy mood had completely evaporated. Doubts about Dermot’s motives were marching in by the double, feeding her growing sense of unease. Had he swept her off her feet because she’d been there, ready and willing? He and his ‘old friend’ would probably laugh about it all when she was gone.

Right now, though, she had to get through the next hour or so without letting Dermot know how she really felt. She’d be calm and collected, and polite. She certainly didn’t want him to see how humiliated she felt.

She put on a smile as she entered his house, and called up the stairs, ‘I’m back! Do you want to cook this kedgeree or shall I read the packet and get on with it?’

Dermot appeared a few minutes later, after she’d decided to get cracking with it. She felt horrible. She was a one-night stand and she’d be lucky if she got away without Dermot pressing money on her for her cab fare.

She was stirring the rice mixture into melted butter. ‘There was a woman at the shop who said to tell you she was back,’ she said as nonchalantly as she could manage, not wanting to look at him until she felt calmer.

‘Oh? And who was that, then?’

‘She wouldn’t give her name. She just said you’d know who she was and that you were very old friends.’

Dermot laughed. ‘Oh, that’ll be Bridget! She’s a case, isn’t she? I’ve missed her. She’s been away for months. I expect she’ll be round here soon, wanting to see me.’

Laura couldn’t bear it. He was confirming her worst fears. And he wasn’t even trying to deny it.

‘Oh well, she’s back now. Would you like tea or coffee with your kedgeree?’ She was aware she was being rather clipped but it was all she could do not to break down, and she wasn’t going to do that in front of him. Also, a part of her felt angry – at him and at herself for being such a fool. She still couldn’t look at him.