One Night In…. Оливия Гейтс

‘Help yourself. Make-up, clothes, whatever—although I do have a dress in mind for you. I bought it because it was so lovely I couldn’t leave it in the shop, but in all honesty it makes my boobs look like over-inflated balloons.’

      ‘That’s a bad thing?’

      ‘Yep. Believe me. On you it’ll look sensational.’ Blowing a kiss, she vanished into the steam and shut the door.

      Left alone, Anna sank on to the enormous bed and thought about what Fliss had just said.

       Here’s to Angelo Emiliani and whatever he did to make you change your mind.

      But that was just it. He hadn’t had to do anything. Just his presence down there in the lobby had been enough, and she had to admit that even his absence was pretty potent too. Throwing herself backwards on to the bed with a hungry moan, she gave in to the thoughts that had flitted distractingly though her head all evening, conjuring his face in her mind’s eye, hearing the low rasp of his voice. Her body, still hot and damp from the bath, throbbed, reminding her of her forbidden feelings with devastating honesty. Trailing trembling, hesitant fingers down over her midriff, she imagined his touch …

      There was a knock at the door.

      Guiltily she snatched her hand away. Leaping up, she ran across the room, re-wrapping the towel tightly around herself and dragging a shaking hand through her damp hair. Breathlessly, aware of the blush creeping up her throat, she pulled the door open.

      ‘Yes? Oh! Oh. You.’

      He was leaning against the door-frame, casually, menacingly. Smiling, but there was a dark glitter in his eyes that made her take a step backwards.

      Dimly she heard Fliss’s voice drifting out from behind the closed door of the bathroom. ‘Who is it?’

      ‘It’s OK,’ she called back shakily, ‘I’ve got it.’

      He made no move, but raised an eyebrow. ‘Am I disturbing anything?’

       Yes! How about my sanity and my sense of self-respect for a start?

      ‘No. What do you want?’

      Oh, God. Did that sound how she thought it sounded? As if she might as well have said, Would you like to have sex with me? He shifted position slightly, straightening up, dipping his head, looking at her from under his long eyelashes in a way that made her feel the towel had just dissolved.

      ‘Well. There are a number of answers to that question. The politest would be “dinner”.’

      ‘I can’t. I told you. I’m going out. How did you find me?’

      ‘I asked for your room number at Reception.’

      Anna felt her heart plummet. Oh, help. She had a lot of explaining to do to Fliss. Or to him. Should she just come clean now?

      But he had already turned and, slinging his jacket over one shoulder, started walking away along the corridor. Spinning back to face her, he shrugged and gave her a half-smile.

      ‘Oh, well. It was worth one more try.’

      Don’t go! she wanted to shout, as the blood sang in her veins and her hormones cried out for her to follow him. He didn’t turn back. She watched him disappear around the corner and then, shutting the door, slumped against it.

      He was the man who was supposed to get everything he wanted, she thought despairingly—so why hadn’t he persisted?

      She let out a small cry of frustration. Because he hadn’t wanted her enough.

      Rounding the corner Angelo felt his hands harden into fists at his sides.

      It seemed she had been telling the truth after all, and his instincts had been wrong. She was Felicity Hanson-Brooks, and she was staying in one of the most over-priced hotels on the Riviera, which was hardly the kind of accommodation one would associate with a committed eco-warrior.

      He gave a small shrug. At least he’d found out now rather than taking any further trouble over her. Now he could forget all about her and get on with the deal.

      ‘It’s just as well we’ve been best friends since the dawn of time.’ Fliss sighed enviously. ‘If not I’d hate you. I knew it would look great on you—I just didn’t realize how great.’

      Distractedly Anna fingered the gossamer-fine oyster-coloured silk. She had submitted to Fliss’s ministrations without a murmur, but all the time her head had been elsewhere. With Angelo. Wondering what would have happened if she’d said yes …

      Forcing herself reluctantly back to reality, she managed a dazed smile. ‘It’s a fabulous dress. Thanks, Fliss. I’ll just have to try very hard not to think about the millions of silkworms that died to make it.’

      Fliss gave her a warning look. ‘Good, because I’m sure that each and every one of them is up in heaven now agreeing that it was worth the sacrifice. Just look at yourself.’

      Slowly Anna met her reflection in the full-length mirror. Gone was the smoky-eyed wild child. In her place stood a sophisticated society girl. The dress was short, a sort of baby doll style that managed to look demure while also being almost indecently sexy. The pearly silk fell in softly gathered folds from a yoke that reached just to the top of her breasts, and everything about her gleamed, from the tiny clusters of beads and crystals on the short bodice at the top of the dress to the little sequinned slip of a scarf Fliss had wound around her throat.

      How could she look so smooth, so polished while underneath she was on fire?

      She breathed out slowly, wondering how long the dizzying cocktail of hormones was going to keep pumping through her body.

      Her hair, newly washed and straightened, hung in a dark silken curtain over her shoulders with no sign of the pink streaks beneath. She gave her head a little shake to reassure herself that they were still there, and flicked up the dress to see her denim hotpants underneath.

      ‘You can’t wear those, Anna! They’ll spoil the line of the dress!’

      ‘They’re fine. I might go to the beach party later on, and I can hardly wear this there. The GreenPlanet guys wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t recognize me.’

      ‘Excellent. That was the general idea.’ Going over to the wardrobe, Fliss selected a shoe box from the stack on the floor. ‘Try these.’

      Inside was a pair of high-heeled sandals consisting simply of two slim diamanté bands. The room seemed to go very still for a moment as Anna looked down at them. When she lifted her head again her face was bleak.

      ‘I can’t wear them, Fliss. They’re too high.’

      ‘Ah. Then we have a problem. You know me and shoes—I don’t do flat. You couldn’t manage just for one evening?’

      Anna shook her head. ‘My ankle won’t hold up in that position. The surgeon who operated was pretty clear about that. But thanks anyway.’

      For a moment the two of them looked at each other in mute sadness, then Anna managed a watery smile.

      ‘Oh, well, I’ll just have to go barefoot. It’s exactly the kind of stupid thing people expect me to do. You know how I hate to disappoint.’

      They could hear the thud of the music long before they reached the party. As the lift plummeted downwards towards the basement nightclub the hot evening air vibrated with rhythm and with sensual promise, until the lift doors opened and the full impact of the party atmosphere was unleashed.

      ‘Come on!’ yelled Fliss, dragging her into the mass of sweating bodies. ‘Let’s dance!’

      A problem with the bones in her ankle may have put paid to Anna’s ballet career but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing. The music was loud and pulsating, a wailing cacophony of guitar and drum that seeped into her spine and turned her bones to jelly. Smiling into Fliss’s eyes, she tried to lose herself in the