Pursuing Pandora

by Maggie Brown

  “Big Yellow Taxi” came next, followed by a bracket of Tracy Chapman’s songs. As they listened, they wordlessly leaned closer together until finally Pandora put her arm around her shoulder. Winter sank against her, shaken by the strength of her desire. Then in the anonymity of semi-dark corner, Pandora lowered her head and brushed her lips up the inner shell of Winter’s ear. She nearly moaned aloud, her nerves racing, her heart thudding.

  Pandora ran a fingertip down the side of her neck, lightly touching the hollow of her throat, a gesture that was at once innocent and erotic. “I want to touch you,” she whispered.

  “Please…please behave,” Winter whispered back. But she found the words, like her pulse, a bit unsteady. She had no wish for her to stop, no strength to refuse the caress.

  Pandora claimed Winter’s hand and brought it to her mouth, pressing her lips to the centre of her palm. “Does this,” she whispered, “feel good?”

  Winter swallowed, unable to think of anything but the heat rushing to her centre. The lips were filled with promise, gentle and warm as a summer’s breeze. Her ordered disciplined mind swam out of focus as Pandora moved her hand down under the table to stroke her thigh. Gradually the stroking became more insistent, and closer to the seam between her legs. If she kept going, Winter thought she would explode.

  Then out of nowhere, a voice called out, “Pandora. Would you sing a duet with me?” Startled, they straightened to attention. Winter looked up to see Adriana looking at them, her stare piercing.

  “Damn,” said Pandora in a barely audible whisper. She let her arm slide off Winter’s shoulder and moved to the side to put a space between them. “Okay,” she called out. “Why not?”

  Later, Winter thought, at some lonely dark hour, she’d explore her reaction to Pandora’s caresses. But now all she could do was watch the two women enviously as they sang in perfect harmony. Their three songs were steeped in regret and lost love, which made Winter wonder again about their history. When they finished with “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers Anymore,” Winter had to remind herself that this was showmanship, not reality. The women were consummate performers. Still, to her, Adriana looked genuinely upset. But when they both burst into smiles after the finale, she revised that thought, figuring it was all in the act.

  When she returned to the table, Pandora seemed tense, avoiding Winter’s eye as she slowly stirred a spoonful of sugar into the small cup of black Turkish coffee. Uneasily, Winter watched her over the rim of her cup as she sipped. She looked less assured. When she glanced up and their eyes met, Winter flashed her a reassuring smile. Pandora tilted her head, giving an answering smile, though she still appeared wary.

  They filled the next half an hour with strained small talk, and she was relieved when Pandora announced, “I guess we’d better be off. Would you mind if I had a quick word with Adriana before we go? I won’t be long.”

  “No probs. I’ll go to the loo while you’re away.”

  Dejected, Winter watched her stride away and disappear down the back. Clearly, Pandora regretted what happened between them. And who was she kidding anyhow? She was totally out of her element with someone like Pandora. Not when the talented, vivacious Adriana seemed to have a thing for her.

  Suddenly, Winter just wanted to go home. She had no place here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I hope you know what you’re goddamn doing,” hissed Adriana.

  Pandora managed to suppress a scowl as she met her eyes. “There’s no reason I can’t go out. I’ve been discreet.”

  “Bollocks! You’re supposed to be undercover, not carting some woman around the town.”

  “So what? No one expects Pandora not to have a social life. In fact, it’s only natural a woman my age dates. It’s probably more suspicious that I don’t. Anyhow, I don’t know what you’re worrying about. This place is completely off the radar from anyone who visits the Silver Fox. Different clientele altogether.”

  “I know that, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to sing. That’s not what I was referring to. Who the hell is that bimbo on your arm, and—” Adriana waved her hand irritably at her, “—what does she think of this transformation? Have you looked in the damn mirror? You hardly look like a lounge singer.”

  Pandora’s anger flared. “Winter is not a bimbo. She is a highly intelligent woman who would be mortified to hear you call her that. As for this outfit,” she continued, in a more reasonable tone, “I wanted one night to relax and not have to pretend. Even if Winter thinks it’s odd, she won’t say anything.”

  She ignored the little voice in her brain as she spoke—Pride is one of the deadly sins! What was wrong with wanting Winter to see she was a woman in charge and not just some sexpot?

  “Yeah—right,” said Adriana with a toss of her head.

  “You don’t even know her so don’t be judgemental. She knows how to be discreet.”

  “Then I’ll have to take your word for it. What’s with you and her anyhow to risk jeopardizing your cover? You’re always so circumspect when it comes to your work.”

  Pandora pretended to consider the question for a moment. “I’m not compromising my cover. She’s a friend who did me a good turn…I’m returning the favour by taking her out to dinner. No harm in that.”

  “For Christ sake, Colly, I wasn’t born yesterday. You can’t keep your hands off her. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone. You always play so…so hard to get.”

  Something in her tone made Pandora study her closer. She tried to read her. Adriana sounded really peeved that she’d turned up with a date. She was acting completely out of character. “Rubbish. I date.”

  “Yeah. You do, but they never last. More like interludes.”

  “So? I’m never in one place long enough to have a long-term commitment. What’s got into you tonight? I actually came here because the boss wanted me to give you this.” She reached in her pocket and handed her an envelope. “Since the Russians are supposed to be tightening their security, I’ve been instructed to pass on anything through you. Phone calls have to be kept to a minimum.”

  Adriana huffed out a breath, then snapped into professional mode. “Right. How often do you envisage you’ll have info to pass on?”

  “It’ll depend. Probably quite a lot in the coming weeks. They’ve given me photographs of persons of interest. I’m to keep my eyes open if I see any of them in the club. They’re pulling me out in about seven weeks.”

  “Then it’ll be less noticeable if we meet in different spots. We’ll use our own code, not the standard company one, to relay where and when we meet.”

  Pandora nodded. “Good plan. Now I’d better get back. Winter will be wondering what’s happened to me. I’ll be in touch.”

  Adriana caught her wrist as she turned to go. “Do you intend to keep seeing her?”

  Pandora froze, then slowly but firmly pulled the hand off. “Maybe. That’ll be up to her. But whatever happens, it’s our business. Besides,” she said, softening her voice. “Dating her could be the perfect cover to meet you in places I wouldn’t normally frequent.”

  “I guess,” said Adriana. “But for shit sake, dress in character in future.”

  As she exited the dressing room Pandora pushed back her annoyance. She went over their exchange to make sense of what just transpired, concluding that it wasn’t her outfit that had Adriana so het up. She knew perfectly well that Pandora wouldn’t take unnecessary risks. No, it was about Winter. Why did she care who she took out anyhow? Hell, Adriana had had her share of lovers, and they’d been friends for ten years.

  Pandora had met her at a bar one Friday night in Sydney, when she was celebrating her graduation from the Australian Institute of Music and Adriana was doing a gig with the band. They had clicked immediately. Following a drinking session, they’d ended up in bed. After spending the weekend together, Adriana was keen to take it further. Pandora had shied away from a repeat, for although the vivacious singer was fun, she had no time or inclination for a relat
ionship. Not while she was trying to establish her career. Even though Adriana hadn’t taken the rebuff well, they eventually put it behind them and became firm friends. But they had never gone back to being lovers.

  A year later, they were approached by Adriana’s uncle, a director of a covert department in Home Affairs, to join the organization. Though she would never had considered it if she’d had time to establish her musical career, circumstances forced her to consider the offer. Her widowed mother had fallen seriously ill, and virtually overnight, Pandora became the breadwinner of the family. So reluctantly, she put her ambitions aside and filled out the form.

  Pandora had never forgotten that first interview.

  On a grey wintery August morning, she and Adriana had set off in a taxi for their aptitude and psychological tests. She didn’t really know what she had been expecting, but it had come as a surprise when the cabbie let them out in front of a plain building that looked more like a warehouse than a government office block. At their first knock, a man in green and brown army fatigues appeared at the door and led them silently down a long corridor to a small room. The walls were a stark white, the only furniture four chairs and a table. A harsh bright light flooded the room. Not a place designed to alleviate anxiety. Then a strict security check was performed by two stern-faced women in black suits, who scared the shit out of her.

  Once they had been examined thoroughly, they were shown into a room where ten equally nervous men and women sat waiting. It was obvious that all had military or law enforcement training. As she nervously took a seat, she had wondered why they were so keen to recruit two female performers to this closeted organization. They lacked experience in anything remotely dangerous. In retrospect, she realized that Adriana’s uncle wasn’t a fool—a singer was the perfect cover in this cloak-and-dagger world.

  The eight-hour testing had been so arduous that only six of the twelve applicants went on to the next stage. Surprisingly, both she and Adriana had passed. Physical trials came next: four days of gruelling courses. As they both were natural athletes, they passed with not too much difficulty. Bootcamp training lasted eight weeks, a hectic and taxing regime. Pandora surprised herself by flourishing in the environment. She turned out to be a natural. As well as survival training, martial arts, and weaponry instructions, the director had insisted they continue professional singing lessons.

  The sight of Winter standing at the doorway, brought her mind back to the present and she flashed her a smile. She looked younger, more vulnerable with her hair down. Pandora felt a flare of desire and a simultaneous protective twinge. There was no use denying that the woman was getting a hold on her and it was beginning to concern her. The only way to stop the attraction would be to burn it out—she’d never remained interested in a lover after a few weeks. In fact, she was beginning to think she was incapable of sustaining any lasting attachment. Though—and this was worrying her—she’d never been so taken with anyone before. It was a mystery why. Winter had done nothing to try to gain her attention or go out of her way to flirt, yet there was this sense of inevitability that they would be together no matter what.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  Winter nodded, a polite smile on her lips and a faint frown on her brow. “I’m ready.”

  Pandora stopped and placed a hand on her arm. “You’re angry.”

  “Not angry, more feeling out of place. I’m beginning to think I’m the third wheel.”

  “You’re worried about me and Adriana?” Pandora said, eyeing her incredulously.

  “You seem…well…very close.”

  “Of course we are. I’ve known her for ten years and she’s one of my best friends.” Then catching the sceptical look on her face, added, “Nothing more.”

  Winter raised her eyebrows. “Come on, Pandora. She clearly has a thing for you. It was plain as day from where I was sitting.”

  “Nonsense,” she replied gruffly. “There’s nothing between us…you have an overactive imagination.”

  When Winter just shook her head, Pandora linked their fingers. “No more of this rubbish. Just let’s enjoy what’s left of the evening together. There’s a great café at the end of the next street that serves the best hot chocolate with whipped cream. You wanna have one before we head home?”

  Winter squeezed her fingers. “Sounds perfect.”

  * * *

  It was after midnight when Pandora turned into Winter’s driveway. When she switched off the ignition, Winter brushed her hand against her arm and murmured, “I had a great time tonight.”

  Pandora flexed her hand on the steering wheel, feeling suddenly shy. “I did too.” Then slightly dizzy with want, she tugged open the car door and followed her up the steps of the house.

  As she waited on the front porch for Winter to find her keys, she let her gaze wander over her body: from the flare of her hips, to the swell of her breasts, to finally rest on her face. Winter lifted her head as if aware of the scrutiny, and they stared at each other for a long moment. The look of tenderness in the autumn-brown eyes caused Pandora’s breath to hitch. She slowly reached up and cradled her face in her hands, then brushed a gentle kiss on her temple. Ever so lightly, she fanned her breath over her cheekbone, and kissed the tip of her nose before she dropped her head lower to claim Winter’s mouth.

  Bolts of sensation zigzagged straight to Pandora’s chest when their lips touched. With a strangled gasp, Winter buried her fingers into her hair and pulled her in closer to deepen the kiss. Immediately, Pandora dropped her arms around her waist, locking their bodies firmly together. Long fingers began to knead the nape of her neck, sending tingles of pleasure down her spine. A moan escaped from Winter. The sound filled Pandora with a feeling that was at once sweet and wild, and she purred deep in her throat. She slipped her tongue into the wet, warm mouth, her lower body tightening at the feel of the tongue stroking against hers. Then Winter captured her tongue with her mouth, sucking it in and out in a steady seductive rhythm.

  Shivery sensations cascaded through Pandora—she felt like a fireball. Lost in a haze of desire, her hands slid up under the blouse and fondled the side of a breast. Encouraged by another breathy groan, she cupped the soft globe and squeezed it lightly. Then through the bra rubbed her thumb over the nipple. It immediately hardened into a small nub. Pandora lowered her head to suck the tender hollow at the bottom of her neck as she began to work down the bra to free Winter’s breast.

  “You taste so good,” she murmured.

  “Do I?” whispered Winter with a quiver.

  “Like rich dark chocolate and wild strawberries.”

  A hitching breath escaped from Winter, and her fingernails dug erratically into Pandora’s back.

  But when Pandora eased her thigh in between her legs, Winter stiffened. It was like flipping a switch—one moment her body was loose and receptive, the next it tensed like a rubber band. Slowly, Winter pulled away with a throaty half sob, half laugh. “Pandora, if we don’t stop now, we won’t be able to.”

  At the sudden loss, she reached for her again, then blinked when Winter took another step backward. “Stop?” Pandora asked in a daze.

  “I think we should. It was really great tonight, but I don’t want to rush into anything. Not until it means something and I really like you a lot.”

  “Oh, God, you don’t know what you do to me.”

  Averting her gaze, Winter began to tuck her shirt into her jeans. “I’m sorry,” she said simply.

  Pandora forced a smile, though her whole body was taut as a drum. “Me too.” She took a step away awkwardly. “I guess I’d better be going then,” she said. She fisted her hands at her side, trying to keep her voice light and not sound too pathetic.

  The embarrassment and disappointment must have been evident because Winter looked at her anxiously and said, “You’re upset.”

  “Of course not,” she replied, striving to sound gentle but the words seemed to come out sharply. “I don’t want you to think I was trying to hurry
you into anything.”

  “No. No. I love that you want me and I found it difficult to stop. But let’s go a little slower, enjoy getting to know each other.”

  “You just make me feel so much.”

  “Me too. But I’ve been hurt and I can’t help being cautious,” Winter murmured and touched her cheek. “Now it’s time I said goodnight. Drive home safely and thanks again for the lovely night.” Then she turned and disappeared inside the house.

  “Goodnight,” echoed Pandora, and for a long moment stood dazed, staring at the closed door. What had just happened? Then it sank in—she had been emphatically, albeit nicely, rejected.

  Sonofabitch! How could she had been so stupid? What had she expected? That Winter would be agreeable to have sex? She knew that she’d been hurt badly, but it had never entered her head that she wouldn’t want to go to bed with her. It should have. Winter was cautious and logical in all the other aspects of her life, so why would her love life be any different?

  Despondent, Pandora slouched down the stairs to her car. She was getting out of her depth, she knew. Her feelings for Winter had taken yet another turn tonight. The rush of arousal had been intense, but the overpowering tenderness that had accompanied that rush was a red flag waving frantically at her.

  She sighed wearily.

  Too late. She was hooked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Winter pressed against the hallway wall, listening to Pandora’s boots thudding down the stairs. Stepping out of the embrace had been hard. As much as she knew emotionally it had been the right thing to do, so much arousal hummed through her body that it was beginning to physically hurt. She’d never been so keyed up. She drew in a shaky breath, trying to get her head around the unfamiliar feelings. What she had felt for Christine when they were first dating wasn’t anything like this. That had been sedate, cool, calculated. This was giddy, heady, fierce.

  And totally addictive.

  As soon as she slipped under the sheets her mind automatically zeroed back over the night. It was clear Pandora had an alter ego—her true personality, she suspected, was the woman who took her out tonight. The lounge singer persona was an act, which probably wasn’t unusual in show biz. That was what she was paid to do—go on stage, look gorgeous. But there remained a niggling feeling that this transformation was unusual, the gap too great. Although she still remained feminine, tonight she had been bold and capable. A woman who could kick ass.