by Maggie Brown
“Away we go then,” said Eleanor, her voice husky.
The clicking of cicadas and the repetitive hoot of an owl followed them down the hill. The night sea breeze blew warm as they purred past the beach, which was bathed in an ethereal light of the full moon. Sophie tipped her face to the side, relishing the magical scene. They moved on to the bright lights of the front portico and parked beside the gardens. Eleanor placed her hand on the small of her back to guide her up the small flight of stairs to the front door. The possessive gesture caused Sophie’s heart to flutter.
The dining room was elegant, with its stylish décor encased in the ambient glow of soft lighting. Dining tables were set up in front of a baby grand piano, while the more intimate settings for two were discreetly hidden by half-closed flimsy curtains in bay windows. A waiter, who introduced himself as Marcello, appeared as soon as they entered the room and ushered them to a window table. Once they were seated in the comfortable high-backed chairs, he took their drinks order and vanished.
Sophie looked around in awe. “This is lovely.”
“It is indeed.” Eleanor moved the candlestick to the end of the table. “There…that’s better. I can see you properly now.”
“Perhaps you should put it back then,” said Sophie with a laugh.
“I can assure you I like the view.”
“You’re good for a lady’s ego, Eleanor.”
“Ah…do I detect a hint of scepticism?”
“I’m not so naïve that I don’t notice you make everyone feel special. You had Doug wrapped around your finger in two seconds flat. The old bloke has seen plenty of the privileged class in action, so isn’t easily impressed.”
“I liked him. I’m not so divorced from the real world that I haven’t learnt to interact with men like him. There are plenty working on film sets. They are the salt of the earth,” said Eleanor with a small shrug.
The waiter appeared with a plate of crusty bread and dipping oil. “What may I get you to drink, Ms. Godwin?”
“Would you prefer white or red, Sophie?” Eleanor asked.
“A dry white if that’s fine with you.”
“Lovely.” Eleanor studied the list. “The Pepper Tree Pinot Gris, please.”
Minutes later he returned, showed her bottle, uncapped it and poured a little in Eleanor’s glass. After she sniffed—swirled it—nodded, he filled the glasses. Once the bottle was placed in the bucket, he asked. “May I take your order?”
“The bread will be sufficient for an entrée. I’ll have the salmon for my main. What would you like, Sophie?”
“The same please.”
When he vanished through the curtain, Eleanor gave her a wink. “I do love that little ritual with the wine. Now let’s get back to our conversation. Why are you so hard on yourself? You’re a bright woman, but you really need to work on your self-esteem. Is it because of what you do?”
Her mouth went dry as Eleanor probed. She was getting in too deep, but Sophie refused to let her eyes falter as she took a sip. “No, it’s nothing to do with that.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?” asked Eleanor.
“How personal?”
“Very.”
Sophie stared at her, tempted to say no. Instead, she nodded. “As long as I can ask you one back.”
“Umm…okay, I guess that’s fair.”
“So…what do you want to ask me?”
“Am I correct in thinking you are a lesbian?”
Sophie watched the light from the candles flicker over Eleanor’s creamy delicate features as she tried to figure out whether to answer. There was little point in denying it. After all, she was sure Eleanor was one too. “I am.”
“Are you out?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“Because…,” Sophie took a bigger sip this time, “because of my family. It’s going to be a shock for them. I go into a cold sweat just thinking of their reactions.”
“I can understand that. Are you going to come out in the future? You can’t hide who you are forever?”
“Yes, when I meet someone who can stand with me when I tell them.”
“Does that mean you have never been in a relationship?” Eleanor peered at her intently. “You have been with women, haven’t you?”
Sophie propped her elbows on the table, her cool shaken. “Of course I have. I’ve never been in a serious relationship though. Quite frankly, I’m sick of hiding who I am.”
“I suggest you take the plunge and tell your family. It’ll be easier than you think.”
“Then why aren’t you out, Eleanor, if it’s no big deal?”
“Am I so transparent?” It was only a whisper.
“No. I just had a feeling.”
“Was that the question you were going to ask me?” Eleanor met her gaze with searching eyes.
Sophie shook her head. “No. I want to know what this night is about exactly. Is it a friendship thing, a genuine date, or a pity party to give the poor housekeeper a good time?”
Eleanor withdrew sharply back into her chair. “I’m sorry you imagine that I think you’re beneath me, Sophie. For what it’s worth, I don’t, because there is nothing about you that deserves to be pitied. You have a zest for life I find very refreshing and I envy you. So many of my friends have forgotten how to have a good time, or to be natural. I asked you out on a date tonight because I wanted to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. We both know it can never go any further, but why can’t we be happy we can share time together.”
“You’re right. That was ungracious and I’m sorry I was a jerk. I guess I’ve become a cynic in my job.”
“Why is that? Have some employers given you a hard time?”
Sophie dipped a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth, chewing slowly to give herself time to sort out an answer. Nothing came, so she said vaguely, “No…no. I was just generalizing.”
“So… have you always wanted to write?”
“That’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do,” Sophie said, relieved she was on firmer ground. She mightn’t be the mythical romance author, but she did write for a living. “Housekeeping is only a way of paying the bills until my writing makes some real money.”
“Then I trust you are nearly at that stage.” Eleanor gave a chuckle. “Ms. Romance Writer.”
Sophie turned away from her gaze at the sound of the curtain rustling, pleased to have a respite to gather her emotions while their meals were placed on the table. Lying to this woman who was fast becoming someone special to her, was getting harder and harder. She studied Eleanor cautiously as she thanked the waiter with her usual grace. Her savoir faire was admirable.
When he left, Eleanor remarked, “This looks divine. You’re a food connoisseur, so tell me what you think.”
The salmon was pink and tender, arranged on a bed of roasted garlic asparagus and mushrooms, with a tangy lemon sauce that smelled delicious. Sophie sampled a mouthful. “Wow. Now this really is good. I’ll just have to get the recipe.” She gazed at Eleanor. “What’s your verdict?”
“Umm. I second that…very tasty.”
Sophie ate slowly to plan her own questions. Now that they were talking frankly, this was an ideal opportunity to learn what she could about Eleanor. What she wrote in her article would be something she would have to decide later, but even if she used none of it, Sophie wanted to know for her own sake what made her tick. Outwardly, the lovely star was composed, thoughtful, and ultra-respectable, a paragon, but was it a cameo role she played or was she completely genuine? Sure, she was a closeted lesbian, but that really meant nothing. She was hardly Robinson Crusoe there. And in her position in the box office stakes, it was understandable.
“What about your love life?” Sophie began as she cut off another flake of salmon. “Have you got a certain someone waiting in LA?”
A faint line appeared between Eleanor’s brows and her fingers fiddled restlessly with pepper grinder. “No.”
; “Ha! I bet there would be oodles who’d like to be.”
“Be careful, Sophie. That’s what started off our argument before.”
“Sorry. I can’t get my head around why someone hasn’t claimed you long ago.”
Spots of red coloured Eleanor’s cheeks. She didn’t answer.
Suddenly Sophie understood. Without hesitation, she reached over to cover Eleanor’s hand with hers. “You’ve been really hurt by someone, haven’t you? Whoever it was didn’t deserve you. And for what it’s worth, I think she was a stupendous idiot.”
Eleanor went rigid, her fingers curled into a fist under Sophie’s hand. Then she relaxed and murmured, “Things aren’t always black and white in life unfortunately, but thanks for the vote of support. Now enough of the skeletons in our cupboards,” she gave a little laugh, “or should I say closets.”
Sophie placed her knife and fork on the plate, then drank the last of her wine. “Okay, let’s have a bit of self-analysis instead. What do you consider your biggest vice, Eleanor?”
“You certainly aren’t in the mood for small talk tonight, are you? Okay, I’ll play. I like to be in control of my life. I find it difficult to live relying on someone else’s whims.”
“My worst shortcoming…I hate conflict, so always end up being used. Brie, my best friend, says I have to be more assertive. Mind you, she doesn’t practise what she preaches. She bosses me around.”
Eleanor stared at her with an odd expression, though didn’t comment.
“What? You think I’m a doormat?” groaned Sophie.
“On the contrary, I was thinking you’re anything but that. I think people take advantage of your good nature. And I was thinking how very well we suit each other.” She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Let’s have some decadent dessert.”
When she raised her hand, the waiter almost immediately appeared with the menu. “Would you like another bottle of wine, Ms. Godwin?”
“Two glasses of the Château d’Yquem sauterne, Marcello, thanks.”
Sophie let out a soft “whew” as she caught a glimpse of the price. At nine hundred dollars a bottle, it had better taste spectacular. She didn’t comment, aware the cost was probably of no consequence to someone with Eleanor’s wealth. It was, however, another example of the yawning gap in their circumstances.
Eleanor passed her the menu. “You choose the sweets—perhaps we could share.”
“Let’s have the crème brulee.”
To Sophie’s delight, sharing dessert in Eleanor’s rulebook was actually feeding each other. Watching the soft sweet slide into her mouth was one of the most sensuous experiences of Sophie’s life. With each mouthful, emotions washed over her as the beautiful lips seductively wrapped around her spoon. When all too soon the bowl was empty, Sophie let out a hum of disappointment.
“That was delicious,” said Eleanor blissfully.
Moments later, the waiter appeared. “Would you like to adjourn to a table near the piano for your coffee, ladies? The pianist is about to begin.”
With the same friendly efficiency, he ushered them to a small booth in the cocktail lounge. It was a cosy candlelit room, separated from the dining area by the stage. Eleanor slipped her hand under Sophie’s elbow as they followed him to the seat. When they passed through the dining room, many of the guests acknowledged Eleanor with a smile or a nod. As Sophie moved quietly by her side, she took in the tuxedos and glittering jewellery. The place reeked of money.
“Apparently Tuesday’s dinners are formal dress,” whispered Eleanor.
After they slipped into the seat, Marcello appeared with two small cups of thick Turkish coffee. Sophie tilted her head to the side to look at Eleanor and felt a flush of pride. Here, with the candlelight reflected in her eyes, she was easily the most compelling woman in the building. The booth was so small and intimate their thighs pressed together. Sophie began to feel a little lightheaded, though it was not all due to the wine. Eleanor’s nearness was intoxicating, her perfume potent. When Eleanor took her hand and stroked its back with her thumb to the strains of a Mozart concerto, Sophie rested her head on her shoulder.
“Would you like a brandy or port,” Eleanor whispered a little later.
“A port would be nice.”
Sophie didn’t know how long they had sat immersed in the music, but when Eleanor whispered, “It’s time to go,” she realized it must have been a couple of hours. The room was nearly empty and the pianist was gathering his sheet music.
Sophie straightened up with a sense of loss so acute her chest ached. She smiled shyly. “That was wonderful.”
Eleanor’s eyes appeared to be swirling hazel pools as they gazed at each. “Yes it was,” she whispered huskily.
They rose without another word. Outside, the night breeze that ruffled their hair, brought with it the exotic perfumes of the garden. Their breath mingled as they turned to face each other in the buggy. Eleanor leaned forward to press her lips to Sophie’s forehead. “Thank you for being with me tonight.”
Sophie stared at her transfixed, her breathing hitched. Something fundamental in her shifted, something she was powerless to stop. Her emotions felt red raw. She knew she had drifted too far into dangerous waters, and had reached the point of no return. Awareness of how much her heart had become involved, brought equal amounts of fear and euphoria. Her feelings for Eleanor had leapt way past a teenage crush. She was in real danger of falling in love with the woman, which would be disastrous. Not only would she be incapable of writing the article, but when Eleanor found out she was a spy for the Globe, she would discard her. Or take her to court for invasion of privacy.
“Let’s stop at a beach for a quick walk,” murmured Eleanor in her ear. “That would be a perfect ending to a wonderful evening.”
When Eleanor lightly stroked her thigh to emphasise the words, all self-deprecating thoughts were banished by a blissful cloud of arousal. She couldn’t think of anything past the sensations that vibrated through her body. They lodged in a whirl of erotic throbbing between her legs. God, she was so far gone it wasn’t funny. The walk on the beach only made her more acutely aware of Eleanor’s magnetic pull as the strolled through the sand, arm in arm. The water was bathed in a warm glow by the moon that hung low in the night sky—a lover’s moon, exciting and magical.
As they made their way in the buggy back up the hill to the villa, they both fell silent. At the door, Eleanor reached up and touched Sophie’s cheek, a fleeting connection that nevertheless felt like a caress.
Then in a blink of an eye, it was all over. Eleanor stepped back, her voice slipped into a neutral tone. “I guess we’d better go inside. Thank you for a wonderful night, Sophie. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Perhaps we can do it again before we leave.”
Sophie felt like screaming, “You can’t turn it on and off like that, Eleanor. It’s not only your affections you’re playing with.” But she bit back the words, instead stood stubbornly in front of the door with crossed arms. “I thought this was a date.”
Eleanor looked confused. “Of course it was. Why?”
“Isn’t it the usual thing to kiss your date good night?”
Chapter Fifteen
At the words, Eleanor fought to stop her resolve from crumbling. Nerves prickled along her skin as Sophie swayed close. No…no…don’t do it, her inner voice screamed, but the full rich red mouth was a temptation she couldn’t deny. In a heartbeat, Eleanor closed the gap. The arousal that had been building all night finally burst free. When their lips met, the feeling was so breathtaking her knees threatened to buckle. She closed her eyes tightly as they melded together with exquisite tenderness.
“So soft,” Eleanor said. She pulled back for a fleeting moment to savour the taste that was sugar and spice and Sophie’s alluring essence, and murmured, “Sweet,” before she leaned forward to continue a little firmer.
“I can’t resist you. You’re wonderful,” Sophie whispered.
Slowly they began to find a r
hythm, aware how perfectly their lips fitted together. Sophie’s were silky and lush, and when they opened to invite her in, Eleanor curled her arms over her shoulders to pull her in closer. She groaned as her skin quivered against the soft body, her passion so fierce it would have terrified her if she hadn’t been so dazed by her need. Eleanor stepped backwards against the wall and tugged Sophie over to settle into the curves of her body. She tickled the inside of Sophie’s bottom lip with her tongue, then flicked it around her warm mouth. When Sophie sucked it in and lightly licked under it, Eleanor couldn’t help herself. She slipped down a hand down to grasp her bottom as she nuzzled a leg between her thighs. With a husky moan, Sophie opened her legs immediately.
Her pliancy was, to Eleanor, the ultimate seduction.
Suddenly through the fog, a warning hammered in her brain. Consider what you’re doing. If she didn’t stop right now, any reserve left would be washed away on the tide of passion. And that could never happen. To have sex with Sophie would have enormous ramifications. The woman was her employee under her care. No matter she was a willing partner, Sophie was not the type to be bedded then pushed aside. Their relationship was far past casual now. She was a genuinely good person, worthy of a lover who would look after her and be prepared to offer her a long-term commitment. A promise like that would be virtually impossible for Eleanor to give. They were socially worlds apart, as well living in different countries.
Not that she thought Sophie was beneath her. Sophie was everything she ever wanted in a woman: smart, good-natured, and caring, not to mention hot. But the overriding factor was they got on so well. Eleanor had no doubt if circumstances were different, they would be extremely happy as a couple. Frustration left her almost sobbing. This woman was the one she had been years searching for, and she could do nothing about it.
Slowly she backed out of the embrace as she struggled against the need to continue. The sound of her own heartbeat hammered until she thought it might burst out of her chest. Sophie’s fingers dug into her shoulders to stop the retreat, and only released her when Eleanor said gently, “I think we should stop, darling. If we go any further, we won’t be able to. And we both know this can go nowhere.”
