She could barely steal her eyes away from him. She was sorry after only forty minutes when the plane landed at Dublin airport.
They said goodbye.
Anna wondered if she’d ever see him again. She did.
At the baggage reclaim.
‘Sorry for bothering you again,’ he suddenly appeared at her side, ‘but I was wondering if by any chance you . . . ?’
‘Ye . . . es?’
‘Are you in Dublin tonight?’
‘Er . . .’ she hesitated.
‘Listen, if I’m annoying you I’ll bugger off. Honestly.’
‘No you’re not er . . . annoying me at all.’ Far from it!
‘So would you be on for meeting up and doing something maybe?’
‘Sure,’ she said easily. Why wouldn’t she? He was divine. An opportunity like this knocked just once in a lifetime. If ever.
Although a city centre hotel had been booked for her she hadn’t had any intention of staying there anyway. She’d actually been planning on spending a bit of time at home with her folks. Now the room seemed like a much better idea.
The family could wait.
‘I’ll give you my mobile number just in case you change your mind . . .’
‘Good idea,’ Anna said quickly, knowing there’d need to be a bloody good reason to make her change her mind. ‘Well, see you later then.’
He was gone.
Was that a dream?
Anna made her way through the sliding doors and past the crowd of onlookers staring at her hopefully with their cardboard signs. She always felt almost guilty for not being the person they were looking to meet.
She queued at the taxi rank, no longer feeling the slightest bit tired. Sure wasn’t it great to be chatted up by such a god-like creature. Anna was totally flattered. What a change from the geeks who normally took a shine to her. She wondered what the hell his bloody name was? Wasn’t that just typical of her to get a number and no name.
The meeting droned on endlessly. Anna stared at the flip chart nodding every now and again, pretending to be interested. She took a look around the room at the haggard retail managers. God, they were a miserable-looking bunch, she concluded. Did nobody with decent looks choose retailing as a career? Oh well, it didn’t matter really. She was going to ring her sexy stranger once she escaped this dreary old meeting.
Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
In the middle of O’Connell Street she dialled his number from a payphone. He should be back from Manchester by now.
‘Hello?’ came the vibrant voice at the other end of the line.
‘Guess who this is?’ Anna teased.
‘Jennifer Lopez.’
‘Try again.’
‘The stunner off the plane.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘You don’t know my name, right?’
‘And you don’t know mine either, smartarse,’ Anna laughed.
‘It’s Darren.’
‘My name’s Anna.’
‘Where are you, Anna?’
‘O’Connell Street.’
‘Why don’t I meet you in the Gresham?’
‘Perfect.’
Anna retouched her make-up in the bathroom of the Gresham Hotel, congratulating herself on having managed to stay awake the whole day. She couldn’t believe she was actually going on a date now. God worked in mysterious ways. She was convinced of that.
He was bang on time. He was keen.
‘Hi,’ Anna said casually as Darren, all six-foot-three of him, pulled up a chair.
‘Hi.’ He held her gaze and she felt a butterfly or two flutter from one side of her stomach to the other. ‘I needn’t tell you you look great ’cos I’m sure you already know that.’
‘No you needn’t,’ Anna pulled at her hair self-consciously, ‘because I look like shit.’
‘You’re obviously not a night owl, are you?’
‘You’re wrong. I’m very much a night owl. But those red-eye flights are a killer.’
‘You’re right, they are.’ Darren leaned forward, his eyes boring into her. ‘I’m wrecked myself. Let’s go to bed.’
‘I presume you’re joking.’
‘Of course.’ He gave her arm a friendly punch.
‘Ow.’
‘Sorry, would you like a kiss instead?’
She stared at him blankly not quite knowing how to respond. Was this guy for real?
‘Kiss me then,’ she teased.
He leaned forward and placed a warm hand on her upper thigh. Her heart began to thud a lot faster than usual. Surely this was a dream? Any minute now she was going to wake up in her little room in Galway and realize this was all a cruel hoax.
And then she felt his strong lips against hers. She closed her eyes and let her own lips respond. This was the stuff Hollywood dreams were made of.
And this time Anna Allstone was the star. Eventually, slowly, reluctantly, she withdrew from his embrace. She sneaked a furtive glance around her. It wouldn’t do if the crowd from Lolta’s had happened to come in for a drink. But nobody was watching, thank God. After all, kissing in public was tacky at the best of times. But this kiss was different. It was like nothing before, warming her heart and every part of her body. Impulsively she leaned forward and kissed him again.
He asked if she was hungry. Hungry? How could he possibly think about food at a time like this?
She shrugged. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, I’m starving. Tell you what, I’m going to pick up my car in the Ilac car park and I’ll come round and pick you up if you just wait inside the door.’
Fifteen minutes later when a shiny black Ferrari braked outside the Gresham and beeped the horn Anna chose to ignore it. She stared anxiously down Dublin’s main street and looked at her watch. Come on, Darren, where are you?
The Ferrari driver stuck his head out of the window. ‘You getting in or what?’
Dazed, Anna moved towards the Ferrari. She slipped into the comfortable leather seat and fastened her seatbelt. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a––’
‘My mini broke down so I borrowed it,’ Darren laughed.
This has to be the one, Anna decided as the car cruised along the street attracting stares from passers-by. He was the ultimate date for Victoria’s party. Just wait until those nasty cows saw this babe machine parked outside Victoria’s house. She could imagine their faces contorting as she sashayed in with her handsome hunk. She turned to look at his perfectly sculpted face, high cheekbones and strong jaw. When God had been giving out looks, Darren must have booted all the other Irish blokes off the queue.
It was funny the way things worked out, wasn’t it? Just when you thought you were facing a brick wall, somehow it crumbled and you were able to step over it. And it was true what they said about meeting people when you least expected it. She’d spent the last few months searching for Mr Right for the night, and then this morning she’d just met him by chance at an airport of all places!
Now let the fun begin . . .
Dinner was at Patrick Guilbauds. Darren ordered for them both and chose an expensive bottle of champagne. A few famous faces dotted the room including a Hollywood star but Anna decided it would be totally uncool to point him out to Darren. Darren looked like the type of guy who’d been born in a Hollywood studio. But he wasn’t an actor. He was in business he’d told Anna, and hadn’t cared to elaborate. That suited Anna fine. She couldn’t bear people who went on and on about their work.
When he suggested going back to his apartment for a nightcap she didn’t object. In fact she was dying to see it. Everything about Darren was impressive so far. And he wasn’t just some Flash Harry with a credit card either. He was witty, smart and intriguing, and Anna couldn’t believe he hadn’t been snapped up before this. He explained that it was hard to meet people when you were working crazy hours and constantly travelling. Anna understood that. It was extremely hard to meet people these days.
Darren’s place was a luxury penthous
e suite in Ballsbridge. From the huge windows were stunning views of the city. Dublin was a blaze of welcoming lights from where she was standing and she felt like some kind of crusader about to embark on a tremendously exciting adventure.
Darren retrieved a bottle of Dom Perignon from the drinks cabinet, a monstrous mirrored affair, complete with ice maker. He gallantly poured the champagne into two Waterford crystal flutes and made a toast. ‘To us,’ he smiled knowingly as her knees went to jelly. ‘Us.’
Anna hardly dared look at him for fear he’d realize her attraction to him. Instead she drank in the surroundings. The place looked barely lived in. Huge white sofas, glass tables and modern art hangings. Anna could get used to a place like this. It would be perfect for a young couple like themselves. Stop it, she scolded herself. Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit? You’ve only just met him and already you’re planning on moving in. Relax, Anna Allstone. Play it cool.
She wasn’t about to blow this one. She’d made enough mistakes this year. But it had all worked out in the end, hadn’t it? After all if she had stayed with any of her exes then she’d never have met Darren. And then she’d have been stuck going along to this party with one of those headwreckers.
Hopefully Darren hadn’t anything else planned for the weekend of the party. She’d have to think of a good excuse to keep him in town that night without telling him exactly why. She didn’t want to come across as an eager beaver.
‘More champagne?’ He slipped into the sofa beside her. His aftershave was strong and sensual. She wanted to pounce on him.
‘I’d love some,’ she smiled.
The bubbles were shooting straight for her head, making her feel dizzy with desire. Darren must have slipped some kind of love potion into her drink. She was completely unable to concentrate on a word he was saying. She was far too busy concentrating on how his torso might look underneath his white cotton shirt. Discreetly she checked out his long strong legs beneath the soft fabric of his trousers. There was no doubt about it, Darren was the most desirable creature she’d ever laid eyes on.
She wanted him to stop talking. He was going on about life and how it was full of surprises or something. She wanted him to stay quiet. He was unbearably sexy. Her arm reached for the back of his neck and she drew herself towards him. Her lips locked hard onto his. He kissed her back, fast and furiously as he fumbled with the top button of her shirt. Her head was swimming with shock and pleasure as her hands tugged at his thick leather belt.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he cried as he helped her with his belt, ‘you truly are a beautiful woman.’
Feeling desirable and powerful, she leaned back on the sofa and let his hands roam the top part of her body. Beautiful? Nobody had ever called her that before (apart from a bunch of drunk rugby supporters at the last French international). Pretty? Yes. Attractive? Absolutely. But beautiful? God, maybe she was. Maybe people had just forgotten to tell her.
Suddenly her bra was open and Anna wished there was some way of turning out the lights without making a big scene. But she was terrified of coming across as a prude, so when his fingers caressed her nipples until they hardened, she said nothing.
She felt sexy and silly all at once. Sexy because this was something that had never happened to her before. Silly because this man was a stranger and if this night happened to turn into a one-night stand, she knew she’d feel sordid and disgusted with herself.
Besides she wasn’t ready for this night of passion. Her bra was black and her knickers were cream with pink faded roses on them. Her legs hadn’t been shaved for a week and her toenails hadn’t seen scissors in nearly three.
‘Stop now,’ she whispered gently and pushed away the sexiest man on earth. ‘I have to get back to my hotel.’
She noticed a deep disappointment creep into his face, making her feel an incredible rush of power. This was the part she loved most. When the man was mad about you because he hadn’t had you yet. You were still this big mystery to him. And it was driving him crazy.
‘Please stay,’ he begged. ‘I promise nothing will happen.’
If Anna had a pound for every time a man had made that promise she reckoned she’d be living in a penthouse just like this one.
‘No really I have to go,’ she insisted, wondering where she was getting the willpower to be so firm. This was the new Anna Allstone. The girl who called the shots. The girl who men were driven wild about, never sure where they stood. Anna liked this new girl. She loved her!
‘I’ll drive you home.’
‘No, you’ve been drinking.’
‘Not much.’
‘Too much,’ she wagged her finger at him.
‘Please stay,’ he tried again. Fair play to men but they rarely took no for an answer.
But no was the only answer Darren was getting. She rang for a taxi and left.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘Tell me all,’ Aoife squealed, ‘from beginning to end.’
‘Oh God, that’s going to take some time,’ Anna admitted.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Anna related the story to her enthusiastic flatmate. It felt like she was talking about somebody else. Things like that didn’t happen to people like Anna. She was almost afraid to go to sleep in case she woke up and realized this was all some kind of cruel dream. She was afraid that he might remove the blinkers he was obviously wearing and find out she was nothing special.
Just Anna Allstone.
‘So has he rung yet?’ asked Aoife wide-eyed.
‘No.’ Anna looked slightly doubtful.
‘And would you not think of giving him a shout?’
‘Absolutely not!’ Anna was adamant.
The phone rang suddenly making both girls jump. Anna’s heart began to pound. What was she going to say to him? She took a deep breath.
‘I’ll get it,’ Aoife offered. ‘You relax a sec.’
‘Hello? Oh, hi Grainne . . . yeah we’re fine, we’re all fine . . .’
Anna could feel her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. This was madness. She shouldn’t be sitting in at her stage of life waiting for a phone to ring. She had to get out. Sure didn’t everybody know that the minute you left the house the phone started hopping? She grabbed her coat and scarf, waved Aoife goodbye and set out for a walk. The wind should clear her head. It had to.
She sat on a small bench facing the sea and the magnificent Clare Hills. The hour change meant longer, brighter evenings and thankfully tonight the rain had stayed away.
She felt fifteen again. She’d sat on this bench when she was fifteen. Well maybe not exactly the same bench but one just like it. Fifteen had been a horrible age when she’d hated her mother, resented her father and thought her brother was the biggest bollix in the entire universe.
They’d stayed in a caravan just up the road. It had rained for the week. Everybody had been so pissed off with the weather and Anna had resigned herself to the glum fact that she’d never ever get herself a boyfriend no matter how hard she tried looking for one.
Claire had gone to Florida that year and Victoria had been sent as a paying guest to a family in the south of France.
They’d all been tanned and gorgeous back in school on the first of September. And Anna had been her usual white and unattractive self.
Thank God she’d never be fifteen again.
She wondered if he’d rung yet. Probably not. It was too soon. Maybe he wasn’t going to ring at all. Maybe he was a serial dater. And had even met someone else since yesterday. Men were fast movers. At this very minute he could well be giving somebody else the eye. There could be another hopeful girl sitting right now in that fabulous penthouse imagining a bright future as Darren’s other half.
Maybe this new girl would go all the way with him and he’d forget the frigid Bridget who’d fled the previous evening like a frightened rabbit. Another one bites the dust, Anna thought mournfully as she kicked the ground with the heel of her boot. Feck him anyway. Feck him and every oth
er man she’d had the misfortune to come in contact with.
Feck them all!
‘He rang,’ Aoife was almost hyperventilating back in the apartment.
‘Did he?’ Anna could hardly conceal her joy.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said to ring straight back.’
‘Did he sound disappointed I wasn’t in?’
‘Not really,’ her flatmate admitted.
‘Oh . . . maybe then he was just ringing out of politeness.’
‘Rubbish. Men never ring just to be polite.’
Anna thought about it. Aoife was right. Men only rang when they wanted something. Well that was good then. It meant that Darren wanted her. He wanted HER!
‘So are you going to ring back?’ Aoife asked.
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no? Have you lost the plot or what?’
‘No,’ Anna repeated.
‘He’s waiting for your call though.’
‘Let him wait. It’s his turn.’
‘But he mightn’t ring back.’
‘He will,’ Anna said confidently. ‘Men mightn’t ring initially. But when they do ring and you’re not in, they always ring back.’
‘I wish I was more like you,’ Aoife’s voice was full of admiration. ‘You’re so strong.’
‘Believe me, I’m not that strong,’ Anna said quietly. It was a vicious circle. She was dying to ring him. But if she did he might think she was too keen.
Desperate even.
She’d have to pace herself. She hoped she was right about him ringing back. She was almost one hundred per cent sure he would. Men hated to think someone else was doing the rejecting. They’d such massive egos. But how was she going to stop herself from lifting that phone and dialling his number? Somebody would have to sellotape her hands behind her back.
She’d ring Claire, that’s what she’d do. Claire would be able to give her tons of advice. She picked up the phone.
‘Are you ringing him after all?’ Aoife enquired.
‘Absolutely not,’ Anna shook her head.
Simon answered the phone. He sounded different. His voice was strained.
‘She’s not here, I’m afraid,’ he answered.
Mr Right for the Night Page 17
