‘Hello, Lexi.’
‘Mr. Barokas, Nigel Palmer. Nigel, Miko Barokas.’ I turned smoothly toward Nigel. ‘Mr. Barokas just acquired Salinger Inc.’
Nigel stood and shook hands with Miko. Then he did an odd thing. He sat back down and catching my hand from under the table brought it up to the surface, and held it tightly inside his pale one. I saw Miko’s eyes rush to our clasped hands. Perhaps Nigel had felt the bristling sexual tension that was coming in waves from Miko and was laying his claim.
‘Will you join us for a drink, Mr. Barokas?’ Nigel offered coldly. I stared at Nigel. Was he being rude? Nigel was never rude.
‘No, I’m actually leaving. I just came to say goodbye and wish you a pleasant evening.’
‘Thank you,’ Nigel replied stiffly.
‘Very kind of you,’ I added softly, and Miko suddenly swiveled his black eyes in my direction. They were blazing with desire. My thighs clenched helplessly. WTF was going on with me?!
‘You’re welcome,’ he murmured softly, and then he had turned around and walked away. I stared at his retreating back with confusion. I had never reacted to a man like that before. When I turned back to Nigel he was looking at me sadly.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
He broke a bread roll dispiritedly and began viciously buttering it. ‘When I was very young my father used to play Dr. Hook’s records. One of my favorites was ‘When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman’. The lyrics were good. Do you know it?’
I shook my head.
‘When you’re in love with a beautiful woman, it’s hard. Everybody wants her. Everybody loves her. Everybody wants to take your baby home. You want to trust her, but then somebody hangs up when you answer the phone. When you’re in love with a beautiful woman, you go it alone.’
He laid the buttered bread roll on his side plate and looked up at me. I stared at him, surprised.
He seemed a stranger. I had been dipping my toes in the ocean of his soul. ‘You watch her eyes. You look for lies,’ he sang tunelessly, his voice gruff with emotion.
What was he telling me?
‘I’m in love with you, Lexi.’
The thought that flashed in my mind was crystal clear: But I don’t love you. And suddenly I felt terribly guilty. I didn’t love him and I could never love him. In a funny sort of way I was no better than Miko Barokas.
I reached forward for his hand and he snatched it away violently. ‘Don’t. Please don’t pity me,’ he whispered.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…’ I trailed away. I had no excuse. I should never have started with him. I should never have let it go this far. I should have seen the signs. All my motives were selfish. I’m not a good person.
He raised his hand. A waiter came.
‘Bill please.’
‘Ah, but—’ began the waiter.
Nigel cut him off rudely. ‘Just charge me for everything I’ve had and everything you’ve already begun cooking.’
The waiter scurried away.
Nigel pulled his wallet out of his trouser pocket. I loved him, but as a brother. A dear friend. Someone with whom I had lain on the couch watching How to Lose a Man in Ten Days. He was the kind of man who knew how to make fluffy cheese soufflés. I mean, come on, what full-blooded American man knows how to do that? I had loved my time with him. It was warm and safe and unthreatening.
The bill arrived. He slipped his card swiftly onto the little platter. The waiter processed it and he slotted it smartly back into a compartment in his wallet.
‘I love you, Lexi,’ he confessed bitterly, not looking at me.
‘Can we talk about this, Nigel?’
He totally ignored me and said, ‘And if ever, ever you think I could be more to you than just a buddy you dispense mercy fucks to then call me, because I want to marry you.' He pulled out a box from his jacket and opened it. A diamond solitaire—small but very, very sparkly—winked and flashed on a bed of dark blue velvet. There were no crappy stones around it to make it look flashier than it was. I stared at it. ‘Take it for what it is; otherwise, consider it a bloody expensive goodbye present,’ he muttered, and snapping the box shut, tossed it carelessly on the table.
I stared at his hurt face, blankly. He had brought me here to propose. How selfish I had been. How fucking blind.
With a forlorn shake of his head he left the table.
I should have left, but for the moment I did nothing. I was too shocked by the direction our relationship had taken. The group from the office was small. Most of them had gone home, but Janey was still there and I didn’t want to join them. I lifted my glass of wine and took a sip, and then the door opened and Miko walked back into the restaurant. My eyes widened. He walked up to my table and stood towering over me. I remained silent, unsure what I should do or say next.
‘How about it?’ he asked, his eyes clear and direct. How different his eyes were compared to Nigel’s.
‘How about what?’ I parried coolly.
‘Going out with me?’
~~~~~
Five
His words fell like pearls on the edges of my heart. ‘Are you propositioning me?’
‘Do they still speak like that in England?'
‘Mr. Barokas—’ I began.
‘I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you this morning.’
My breath caught in my throat. I felt an odd heat inside my body. Strange thoughts entered my head. Forbidden old dreams of lying underneath him or being ravished by that beautiful mouth. I thought of Nigel. I thought of his pain. There was nothing I could do about that. But there was something I could do about mine.
‘Sit down then,’ I invited softly, recklessly.
His eyes flickered, warm for a second. An easy conquest for the great Miko Barokas. He slid into the chair that Nigel had vacated. I took another sip of my drink and eyed him over the rim of my glass. His golden skin radiated sensuality. I wanted to touch it. I licked my suddenly dry lips and glanced at his large hands. They lay relaxed on the table. I thought of them moving on my body in a long, slow massage.
‘You have all my attention,’ I murmured.
‘So do you, Lexi Johnson. So do you.’
The way he said it brought a surge of wild color to my face. I swallowed and pretended that he didn’t have such a strong effect on me. I tried to calm the fast pace of my heart and reminded myself that he was the enemy. This was the mean boy who humiliated me and forever changed the course of my life. I let my eyes drop to the table—it was impossible to think when I gazed into those bottomless pools of black ink—and my eyes fell on the velvet box. My eyes flew up to meet his and they, too, were on the box.
‘Why did you come back?’ I asked.
‘I went outside to make a phone call and I saw him pay the bill and leave.’
‘So what now?’
‘I’m going to have you in my bed.’
No, you’re fucking not. I smiled seductively and raised one intrigued eyebrow. ‘Really.’ My voice was cool.
‘Yes, really.’
My eyes swiveled over to the table where my colleagues were sitting. Janey was staring at us, her mean, dried up, sex-starved mouth set in a straight line of unconcealed hatred. Here was another truth I had refused to confront—my boss hated my guts. There’ll be big trouble in the office tomorrow.
‘Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too?’
I brought my eyes back to him. I had never seen eyes more impenetrable than Miko’s. There was nothing there but a blank wall and a stated lust. He wanted the beautiful me, not the real me, the freak me. I thought of Nigel, his eyes full of desire, disappointment, admiring, laughing, sad. But what color were his eyes? I could not remember. That’s because I only remembered him in black and white. The only eyes I had ever really looked into and remembered vividly were Miko’s soot-black eyes. So black they swallowed all the other colors around them. Everything became pale and inconsequential in comparison.
‘I want you too…’ I said very
softly.
A waiter came up to the table, caught my eyes, and winked slyly. He turned his attention to Miko. ‘Can I get you something, sir?’
‘No thank you, I won’t be staying,’ Miko threw over his shoulder, not taking his gaze off me.
‘…but I work for you,’ I finished.
He frowned. ‘I don’t see that that matters either way. Although, technically you don’t. You happen to work for one of the companies I own.’
‘Right.’
Around us ‘Come Up and See Me (Make Me Smile)’ by Steve Harley boomed. Miko’s lips quirked. He really did have the most beautiful lips I had ever seen on anybody. Ever. The top lip was slightly plumper than the lower lip and it was so red it was as if he was wearing lipstick or had just eaten a bowl of cherries. I thought about biting his mouth.
‘I ordered that song specially for you,’ he murmured.
I laughed and his eyes narrowed. The laughter died in my throat. Whatever it was between us it was like tinder. Extremely flammable. I had to be careful. I did not want to perish in the flames.
‘I’ll give you a ride home.’
‘Thanks, but I live only five minutes away from here. The walk will do me good.’
‘It’s late. Allow me the pleasure.’
‘Fine.’ I picked up the blue box, dropped it into my purse, snapped it shut and stood. As I neared him his hand touched mine. The inconsequential contact stirred a deep, fierce hunger within me. His fingers drifted up my arm. I looked into his eyes and was shocked to see the intensity of his need. The magic of desire swirled around us.
Take control, Lexi. Take control.
I shifted away from him. The space made a difference. My senses cleared somewhat. I hated this man. The only thing I wanted from him was revenge. To take him to a high place and drop him. In my head a small voice laughed at me. Or maybe you will get burned again. I ignored it.
There was a chauffeured Mercedes waiting outside.
‘Driving in London is a nightmare,’ he explained.
The driver jumped out and held the car door open and Miko’s fingers brushed my elbow as I got in. He closed the door after me and went to the other side. The interior was wonderfully cool. Miko slid in and the car rolled away smoothly. He asked my address and I gave it. He closed the glass partition and turned to me.
‘You’re a very beautiful woman, Lexi Johnson.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But you are also very, very mysterious.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Because you have the eyes of a woman who is hiding a secret.’
‘All women hide secrets, Mr. Barokas.’
‘Miko. I can’t have you calling me Mr. Barokas while my cock is deep inside your pussy.’
My mouth gaped with shock.
‘Why do you seem so shocked? I’m sure every man you meet must want to fuck you senseless.’
He was right—men were always falling over themselves to bed me, but I had never been affected by their lust, their passion or whatever they wanted to call it. Some had even called it love. I did not believe that for an instant. They loved an unreal thing. This thing I had become was not the real me. The real me was in my bedroom, curled up in bed with a good book.
‘Oh, here we are. This is me,’ I said.
The car slid to a stop and I scrambled out, into the hot summer night. He was around to my side faster than I could compose myself.
‘Well, goodnight then.’
He seemed amused. ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’
I somehow managed to fumble with the keys and we stood together in the foyer of the building outside the lift doors. I called it and turned toward him nervously. ‘There is really no need for you to come any further.’
He didn’t answer, simply pulled me toward his tight body so I could feel his erection pressing, hot and hard into my belly. I gasped, shocked by the raging desire to have this man deep inside. It was so strong it made my body shake. I had not expected to respond like this to him.
‘Lexi,’ he whispered, his hand journeying from the top of my shoulder into the neckline of my shirt. His fingers were like silk, but on the mounts of his palms lived the excitingly rough calluses that came from training with weights.
I watched him as he bent his head and claimed my mouth.
Then I exploded.
There is no other way to describe how I fell apart under his mouth. Every cell in my body craved and ached for release as his silky fingers gently caressed my nipples through the material of my bra and shirt. I wanted to tear his clothes off and impale myself on him. How long since I was touched by such a violent hunger? Not since I had sat in a car under the canopy of a tree and looked at a star-filled sky. The thought brought demons. Old demons. I froze. So did he.
‘What is it?’ he asked, drawing back slightly.
‘Too soon. Way too soon,’ I gasped.
‘Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?’
I nodded.
‘Leave the office early. I’ll ring your doorbell at seven.’
‘It kind of depends on Janey.’
‘Ah, that woman who wears human skin shoes.’
I smiled weakly. ‘Exactly—that one.’
‘Leave her to me.’
The lift arrived and I walked into it.
‘Wear something nice,’ he said, and the doors closed on him. Immediately, my knees buckled. I looked at my reflection in the chrome walls. I looked wild. My hair, my eyes, my mouth, my cheeks. Everything looked so foreign.
I was playing with fire.
~~~~~
Six
I’d had a horrible day at work. Janey seemed coldly disgusted with me—always polite, but under the surface, simmering. As if I had left a dead rat on her breakfast tray.
At five to five I closed my office door and left. As I walked out of the building’s side entrance, I knew that my time at Salinger Inc. was coming to an end. It was the height of summer and the Tubes were always uncomfortably crowded with sweaty office workers so I decided to walk home. I set off at a fast pace down the familiar streets, and by the time I got to my one bedroom apartment it was only quarter past five.
My apartment was rented, of course, but I was rather fond of it. I would miss it if I left, but I was no longer sure if I wanted to stay on in England anymore. I sometimes thought I should return to America, perhaps live for a while with my sister in New York. But the thing that held me back was the fear that New York would not be slow and manageable the way London was.
I kicked my shoes off, undressed and sitting on a stool ruthlessly removed every last dark hair from my body. Then I dry brushed myself and stepped into the shower. The sensation of hot water sluicing down on my body, now as hairless and smooth as a plastic Barbie doll, was delicious.
I closed my eyes and thought of Miko. I was not by nature a revengeful person and yet I fantasized about hurting him the way he had hurt me. I turned off the showerhead and wrapped myself in my bathrobe. I dried myself and wrapping my head in a towel, I lathered my body with softly perfumed lotion before padding into my bedroom.
It was small and some would say poky, but I liked it. Done up in butterscotch and cream, it was my little cozy nest. No one else was allowed here but me. I unwrapped the towel around my head and blow dried my hair into a shining cascade of blonde curls that I then neatly pinned back. I dribbled the glass stopper of perfume behind my ears, wrists and between my breasts.
Let the world know that someone ravishing has drifted by.
Totally nude, I sat at the dressing table and did my face. Peach lipstick, plenty of mascara, highlighter across the cheekbones, and I was done. I got into a ravishing, strapless, deep red number with embroidered lace. It was very tight and a bit Jessica Rabbitish, but absolutely fabulous.
I moved closer to the mirror and stopped suddenly. My nose looked big. I stared at it. I turned away from the mirror. Oh my God, I’m not going to start that again. ‘Stop it,’ I scolded myself. ‘There
is absolutely nothing wrong with your nose. Nothing.’
I walked quickly to my cupboard and took out a file. It was filled with photos of the celebrities who had deformed and disfigured their faces with too much plastic surgery. I looked at them carefully one by one. Then I went back to the mirror and looked at my nose.
It still appeared a tad too big and though I itched to make an appointment with Dr. Yann, I knew that it was an addiction that I must not give in to. My therapist had explained that I would never reach perfection in my own eyes no matter how many times I went under the knife. Of course, I understood it on an intellectual level—on a practical level it haunted and damaged me the way any addiction did.
And it was all his fault.
I looked at the clock on the dressing table. Ten minutes to seven. I slipped into black high heels, slicked on another layer of peach gloss and walked out into the living room. I didn’t want to sit and crumple my dress so I just stood in the middle of the room and watched the clock.
The doorbell rang and I opened it, my hips at an angle, my spine arched, and a slow smile.
His eyes widened. ‘My,’ he said huskily. ‘I just had a vision of you.’
I lowered my voice. ‘Did you now?’
He nodded once, slowly, knowing. ‘Mmm…’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Dare I ask what I was doing?’
He grinned wolfishly. God, he was good enough to eat. ‘You might have been on your hands and knees.’
The breath caught in my throat at the look in his eyes. Now I would never again be able to wear this dress without the memory of that look. It struck me that I didn’t want him inside my home. Not this debonair, roguish and darkly handsome version of Miko. When this was all over I still had to hate him.
I reached for my purse from the side table beside the door and stepped out into the corridor. As I closed the door his hand brushed my bare arm and a jolt of electricity bolted up it. I drew back instantly, my eyes flying up to his.
Pretty Wicked Page 3
