He smiled benignly, confident of his acting ability. He was good at playing roles, so good that some acquaintances said he’d missed his calling and should have been an actor. He’d scoffed at the idea. Not enough regular work in that branch of the arts to give him the lifestyle he enjoyed. Besides, once Michaela knew his ‘respectable’ business background and saw his home at Tamarama, she’d be convinced that he was a man of means.
‘Maybe I will, Mr Kovacs,’ she answered slowly. Then she saw his frown and amended it to, ‘Lenny’. She checked her watch and gave a general goodbye to Rod and the businessman. ‘I’ve got to go.’
Lenny and Rod watched her walk away. Lenny was pleased, his first encounter with Michaela had been satisfactory. Next time she would remember him. He had a reputation for planning things well and, right now, ninety-five per cent of his mental energy was going into planning the seduction of Michaela Beaumont. He was patient, too. She was a class act and he knew it would take time to gain her confidence and woo such a woman, but woo and win her he would.
She was late meeting Leith at the restaurant that night because traffic along Windsor Road through to the city had been horrendous. He was waiting at the table where they usually sat, in a corner and slightly away from other diners. The maitre d’hotel had got to know them and smiled as he welcomed her and ushered her to the table.
‘Sorry,’ Michaela apologised, flustered because she hated to be late for any type of engagement, and sat opposite Leith. ‘Traffic was absolutely the pits.’
‘That’s okay.’ His mouth twitched with masculine mischief. ‘I like it when you make an entrance: your hair flying this way and that, the slight breathlessness, the fire in your eyes. Makes the wait worthwhile, believe me.’
She gave him a quizzical look. Sometimes she couldn’t tell when he was joking or serious. He had the clever knack of keeping her slightly off balance, unsure of herself when, normally, she was very self-assured around members of the opposite sex. But not this one. This man aroused all kinds of confusing, wonderful, even scary reactions within her. As he was doing right now. Her heart was racing, she could feel her cheeks flushing and a nervous tingle was racing up and down her spine. All very disconcerting … and yes, exciting.
To defuse the tension between them, she asked, ‘Did you finish your brief?’
‘Yes, thank goodness.’ He handed her a menu. ‘Hungry? What do you fancy?’
You! She almost said the word aloud, but managed to keep her tongue in check. Further dismayed by her own reactions, she pretended to study the menu as if, suddenly, it was the most important thing in her life. Get a grip, girl.
‘So, how was your day?’ Leith wanted to know.
‘Great. I met up with Rod O’Malley, my instructor. It’s always good to see him.’ She smiled at him then, slowly beginning to relax. ‘We checked out some small planes. Boy, if only I had the money … And I met this funny little man, his name’s Lenny Kovacs. He offered me some flying work.’
Leith’s eyebrow rose questioningly. ‘Oh, doing what?’
The waiter came and they placed their orders. Just mains, and a bottle of chardonnay; both of them were only social drinkers.
‘He’s a businessman, some kind of developer, I think. He wants to check out several country towns regarding development of either shopping malls or housing. It was all a bit vague, but Rod says it might be worth doing, to build up my flying hours.’ She studied him from under her lashes. God, he looked so … sexy! ‘Uummm, as things are at present, with work and everything, I don’t get much opportunity to go flying.’
‘You should check out his bona fides first.’
‘He suggested I should,’ she told him. ‘I thought you might …’
‘Of course, any time. Just give me his details.’ Then, almost casually, he reached across and covered her hand with his own. ‘Enough about your Mr Kovacs. Let’s talk about something else. Us.’
‘What about us?’ She smiled to cover the returning nervousness. It was settling over her again, tangling her thoughts, scattering her usual level-headedness.
‘Do you realise that this is our seventh date and we haven’t had an argument — on any subject — yet?’
‘Oh!’ Who was counting? She wasn’t. ‘Didn’t we disagree on who paid the last dinner bill?’
He grinned at her, sublimely confident. ‘That wasn’t an argument, that was simply a … a healthy discussion, so it doesn’t count.’
She laughed. For goodness sake, he was a lawyer, so what chance did she have of getting the better of him verbally? ‘Do you always have to win?’ she fenced with him.
‘I’m a lawyer and our profession usually likes to win.’
Their food came and they began to eat, enjoying their respective dishes between sporadic bursts of conversation. Michaela kept thinking about Leith’s comment that lawyers like to win. Was he talking in a business sense, or did he also like to win on a personal level? She was sure he did. And, interestingly, he knew that she liked to win too. So, she surmised as she put her knife and fork down, there could be interesting times ahead … for both of them.
Getting Michaela into his apartment was surprisingly easy. Up till now Leith had made a point of not inviting her there because he hadn’t wanted to appear to be rushing things between them. He opened the front door and stood back for her to pass. She had been bubbly, buoyed with confidence at the intimate café off Bourke Street where they’d had dinner. He hoped her continued pleasantness marked a new phase in their relationship — not that they had a relationship yet, though both were aware of a strong, almost animal attraction for each other.
Leith watched her walk around the large living-cum-dining room. She studied the furniture and the decor and then moved towards the full-length window to take in the city skyline view. At night, as in the day, it impressed most people.
‘Coffee?’ he asked.
‘Love some,’ she replied without turning back to look at him.
He went into the galley-style kitchen off the dining area to put the percolator on, then returned to stand beside her at the window.
‘Your view’s magnificent.’ She punctuated the words with a sigh.
‘It is.’ He wasn’t looking at the view, he was looking at her and he knew that she knew he was. He was so close that if he took a deep breath, he could breathe in the perfume she always wore. What was it? She’d told him once. Byzance. It was almost a signature, a calling card of her personality. The aroma was memorable, alluring, like the woman herself, and not too heavy. Leith felt himself go through a sweet kind of agony standing so close yet not touching her, wanting to pull her into his embrace, wanting to … so much.
‘The apartment block is ten years old,’ he began conversationally. ‘I bought off the plan but, over the years, I’ve moved twice to higher floors, as apartments became available and my salary could afford them. My long-term goal is to buy the penthouse. It has a rooftop garden and an outdoor spa. From it you can see parts of the harbour and the Botanical Gardens.’ He heard the percolator switch itself off. ‘I’ll make our coffees. It’s not too cold, so we can have them on the terrace if you like.’
‘Lovely.’ Michaela heard his footsteps fade as he went into the kitchen. Opening the sliding glass door she stepped onto the paved terrace, which was quite wide. Coffee. Hhmmm. Her sigh was profound as she sat at the table. Coffee wasn’t what she wanted. Small talk, polite conversation: she didn’t want that either. She wanted Leith to take her in his arms and kiss her. She wanted it so badly that if she didn’t get it soon …
Over dinner they’d done their usual verbal fencing, flirted with their eyes. Their mutual body language had screamed ‘I want you’, but what were they doing now? Acting so politely, each too cautious to make the first move. Damn it, this wasn’t what she wanted, had anticipated. After their first date she had made the mental quantum leap to go with this relationship, to see where it led and, to date, it wasn’t leading where she’d expected. Could be, the thought fo
llowed, that it was her fault. Maybe she wasn’t giving him the right signals!
Why? Because she was scared. Leith was the first man who had made her feel breathless, nervous, excited, out of sync, high, as if she’d had one drink too many when she hadn’t swallowed a drop of alcohol. The oft-used phrase ‘out of her depth’ slipped into her head. He made her feel vulnerable. That scared her too.
Leith returned with the coffees and they sat sipping them and talking quietly.
Eventually Michaela said, ‘Do you mind if I look around the apartment? I’m curious as to how bachelors decorate their pads.’
He grinned at her. ‘Be my guest, it’s reasonably tidy today.’
The masculine and Scandinavian touch was pronounced in the three-bedroom apartment. One bedroom had been converted to a study with a sofa bed for overnight guests. The smallest bedroom had been kitted out as a mini gymnasium, which helped to explain why Leith looked trim and fit, and the main bedroom with its ensuite and wall-length wardrobe featured a black-and-white theme and lightly stained beech furniture.
On a glass-topped table she saw a collection of photos and went over to look at them. Some were obviously of his family. She could see the resemblance to his father, and his brother, Sven. His dark-haired sister, Birgit, was more like his mother. There were photos of him growing up. One in an ice hockey uniform; another, when he was slimmer, in a skater’s body suit; and a few with him dressed in ski gear, holding skis and stocks. She remembered him telling her hair-raising stories about downhill racing, and the photo of him holding a silver cup above his head in triumph was proof that he’d once been so good that Sweden’s Sports Ministry had considered him for their Olympic team. Unfortunately, he’d smashed his right arm so badly when practising that he’d had to withdraw, and watch another take his place at the 1976 Winter Olympics.
‘Does it get your good-housekeeping tick of approval?’ Leith enquired from the bedroom doorway.
‘I’m hardly qualified to give that,’ she returned, tongue in cheek. ‘You’ve seen my apartment. Tidiness is not one of my virtues.’
‘Aahh, virtues. An interesting word.’ He came towards her and stopped about a foot away. ‘I think you have many virtues, even if tidiness isn’t amongst them.’
The intensity of his gaze — his eyes never left her face as he studied every nuance of expression — made her go hot all over. He reached for her, at last, and drew her slowly towards him … When their lips met the heat inside Michaela roared to an instant, consuming flame, scorching a spontaneous response that she couldn’t disguise. Licks of desire tightened her stomach muscles until they became a tense ball. Neither could get close enough, though their arms were tightly wound around each other. She wanted, she ached, she needed … everything … as she had never needed before.
‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get around to doing that.’ Her teasing response was a husky whisper.
He smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Don’t think I haven’t wanted to, I have. I didn’t want to … rush you.’
Michaela took the initiative and drew his head down to hers to kiss him and when they both drew back, both were gasping for breath. She recognised the searching quality in his gaze as he asked a silent question. She answered it with a brilliant smile.
Leith understood their silent dialogue and needed no more encouragement. He picked her up effortlessly and took her to the wide bed, gently depositing her on top of the doona. As he sat on the side of the bed, he undressed her with his eyes, and smiled as a faint flush coloured her cheeks.
‘You are quite magnificent, you know.’ His hand caressed her cheek, the side of her neck, then moved down to settle over one breast. ‘Quite perfect. I have ached to do this.’ His hand surrounded the other breast and caressed it lightly. ‘And this.’ His mouth claimed hers in a kiss of unbridled passion, his tongue parrying, darting, dominating. ‘And this.’ Now his hands were touching her all over, breasts, the flattened plane of her stomach, her inner thighs, teasing, tormenting her through the material of her pants.
Michaela wriggled sensuously beneath his touch, wanting more, wanting their bodies to be skin to skin against each other. Reaching under his woollen pullover, she began to touch him, bestowing her own brand of caresses on him. His chest was tautly muscled, with not an ounce of spare flesh, and the muscles tightened wherever she touched him. She heard his low moan of delight and smiled wickedly. Two could play this game, but not for too long, she hoped.
In a rush of heavy breathing, between kisses and caresses, they undressed each other and, when Leith moved back to look his fill on her nakedness, she reached forward and pulled him down on top of her, trapping his body with her arms and legs. Long fingernails lightly raked his back, making him arch suggestively against her.
Still, he didn’t take her. He continued his tormenting foreplay, finding and provoking every sensuous zone of her body until she was wild with wanting, desperate for relief, and trembling with the anticipation of their union.
He seemed aware of her level of frustration and kissed her deeply, simulating with his tongue what she wanted him to do with his penis, while his fingers worked on the most sensitive part of her body until she writhed helplessly against him.
‘Say it,’ he whispered huskily in her ear as he anointed the shell shape with his tongue.
Instinctively she knew what he meant. ‘I … want … you … now. Right now.’ She whispered the words between gritted teeth.
‘Not yet, my lovely one,’ he whispered back as he thrust two fingers deep inside her.
She bucked against him, unable to control the orgasm. As she peaked he entered and drove into her just once, as hard and deep as he could. She moaned in sensual rapture, coherent thought impossible. It was as if their bodies had been moulded to fit each other perfectly, as was their mutual passion.
And then, without delay, Leith took her where she had never gone before … and then some.
Darkness made grey then black shadows creep across the bedroom floor as Leith woke. He elbowed up into a sitting position, and glanced at the pillow beside him. The dent where Michaela’s head had lain was still there, if slight, as was the faint aroma of her perfume on the sheets.
God, they’d made love like … like … two healthy, lust-filled animals. Three times, or had it been four? He was exhausted, and no wonder. She had driven him to the brink of mindlessness several times. What an appetite the woman had, once she let herself go! He grinned at the memory of her wantonness. She had been almost insatiable, as if she couldn’t get enough of his loving. He chuckled low in his throat. He liked that, yes, very much. What man wouldn’t! As he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, he was wise enough to realise that though Michaela had surrendered physically to him, had she done so wholly? He didn’t think so, yet.
He found his trousers, put them on and padded barefoot out to the living room. He almost called her name, but instinct told him she was long gone. He’d half expected her to be. Michaela would need to escape, to think about what they’d shared. She would try to … what? Analyse their hours together, compartmentalise them, dismiss them? He hoped not.
He saw the note propped up against a vase on a side table and unfolded the piece of paper. It read: Thank you, tonight was wonderful. In every way. See you soon. M.
Leith ground out a sigh. He may have won the first romantic encounter, but something told him there would be others before Michaela truly became one hundred per cent his.
Chapter Twelve
Caroline let the melody of Debussy’s Clair de lune enfold her as she struck the notes of the melodic, hauntingly paced piece of music. She forced her mind to ignore the mis-hits as her stiff fingers traversed the keyboard. What she was doing was exercise for the fingers, but it was also nourishment for her artistic soul. Until a year ago music had ruled her life; now she was searching for something to replace what she’d lost, the career she had devoted herself to so passionately. She enjoyed the work at Ash
worths, learning the ins and outs of a very different world to the arts. However, if she were honest with herself, and she tried to be, she missed the music. It was as if a part of herself had gone missing and she couldn’t find it again. Being reduced to playing an hour in the morning and an hour or more at night to keep the fingers supple and as arthritis-free as possible — as did the Tai Kwon Do lessons — only partly satisfied her need.
She wasn’t complaining, really, it was just that sometimes it was hard to accept how much her world had changed.
At least she and Michaela were getting along better since they had confided in each other, though she still believed her sister, mistakenly, had reservations about her. The puzzling behaviour of Ashworths’ shares had given them a common goal, a puzzle to solve, and with Michaela’s 18 to 28 plan almost ready for presentation to the board, a sense of camaraderie was developing between them. Included in that bond was their mutual friend, Jo Levy.
It was a comfort to see Fern so happily adjusted here. Her daughter loved living at number fifty-two, being part of a family, though at present she was missing her grandmother. They got on so well. Fern was also making up for lost time by seeing a good deal of Nick. They spent every weekend together and did a wide range of activities: sailing, hiking, outings, drives around the countryside.
A wistful smile stretched her lips as she approached the finale of the piece, her fingers now more responsive. At times a frisson of envy crept through her when she saw Nick and Fern together: they were so alike physically and emotionally. In Paris she had spent weekends doing things with her daughter, and in between performances they’d go skating and skiing in the winter and take drives in the country, particularly to the Loire Valley. In summer there had been sun-filled holidays on the Costa de Sol, and soirees with her friends in Paris’ artistic Latin Quarter. Nowadays, Caroline spent most weekends alone. She wasn’t lonely, exactly, it was just that the change, another change in her life, was a further adjustment she’d had to make.
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