Love/Forty

by Bette McNicholas

  “See, my plan is working already.”

  “What plan?”

  “I want to tear down your defenses and prove to you that no one will ever love you as deeply as I do and to convince you I’m the only man you will ever love as much as I love you.”

  Now that her insides felt like butter, she whispered, “Kiss me…”

  He shook his head and traced her lips with his thumb, slightly separating them. “I’d be taking advantage of you and the present situation. Maybe you had too much sun and not enough to eat and that’s what caused you to swoon. Maybe I had nothing to do with your fainting.”

  “But you don’t believe that, do you?

  “Honestly? No. Maybe you reacted to our intense emotions.”

  She had read many love stories, and she knew he meant sexual emotions and he had awakened every impassioned nerve in her body. “Were you serious when you said you loved me?”

  “Yes, Mercedes. I never told any woman I loved her, well once when I was thirteen, but that doesn’t count—I just wanted a French kiss. That’s what this date is all about; I want you to fall in love with me, no matter how many dates I have to plan.”

  “How can you be certain that you love me?”

  “I don’t know how, but I do. Love at first sight is all I can think of, but ever since that incident when I nearly caused you to trip at the tennis tournament, and you turned around and looked at me, I knew.”

  “At your parents’ house this afternoon, every time I glanced at you I caught you staring at me.”

  “I wasn’t staring at you.”

  “What do you call that?”

  “Watching. I love to watch you. You captivate me and I can’t seem to get enough of you and when I’m touring, I will be deprived of seeing you.”

  The hostess tinkling the dinner bell interrupted them and Dante took Mercedes’ hands and helped her stand. Her entire body filled with the warmth of him, and she wanted him to make love to her. She felt certain she wouldn’t be able to live without him once they made love and then she’d find her face on tabloids and on television at every tournament. Women all over the world would be jealous of her, but she doubted she’d be happy.

  She remembered reading once about circadian rhythms, and Dante aroused her hormonal cravings, now that she understood what they were. And they would rise and fall like the Roman Empire at this rate. No wonder she fainted. She knew men became aroused easily and women sometimes left them in agony if they refused to have intercourse.

  Did he have any idea what he did to her? Her insides ached on the verge of being painful and she was amenable to relinquish her virginity, even if they never dated again; yet he wanted to have dinner…

  She wished he could read her mind. She had no idea what she was going to do with all the longings that enveloped her.

  The candles flickered on a table set for two; the lights on the ship were dim and all around them the coast of France lit up with varying colors of gold and blue. Without a doubt, not only was this her greatest date, none had been remotely romantic in comparison. She couldn’t wait to write about this evening in her journal and worried she might not remember every detail.

  The wind whispered across the deck, and the sound of the waves in the wake, along with candles lit in lanterns and the scenery, all helped create the romantic atmosphere she had only seen in travel magazines or in the movies.

  Champagne and Steak Diane served with black truffles and twice-baked potatoes whipped with mascarpone cheese soared right to the top of her list of best dinners, moving a Beef Wellington with all the trimmings she had had in London and a Rockfish dinner at Emeril’s in New Orleans, down the list.

  Love songs from Frank Sinatra played in the background and kept the romantic flirting alive while she enjoyed talking to him—although in her mind she wished he’d stop talking and make love to her. They didn’t mention tennis, or her work, but talked about food and traveling, favorite movies and books, and even mentioned politics. They told one another funny stories about when they were young and their days attending college which helped break the spell long enough to allow her to enjoy her dinner.

  After dinner, Dante rose and offered her his hand. They danced slowly on the deck without speaking a word. They danced until they stood still and embraced. The stillness became overpowering. She breathed in his intoxicating scent to remember him once they were apart. Their breathing was silent but grew deeper with each breath. She wondered what his thoughts were and moved slightly apart to look at his face.

  He ran his index finger down her skin in the middle of the opening in her outfit, sending sexual desires through her body. Gently, he drew her body even closer to his. She opened her mouth to speak, but he moved in to kiss her, his tongue touched hers and he breathed her in until she moaned.

  “Make love to me, Dante.”

  He held her tighter and shook his head. “I would love to kiss you and remove all your clothes and make love to you on this deck, but we aren’t alone,” he joked. “I can’t continue because I can’t promise not to lose control and once we moved to the next level, I wouldn’t be able to stop.” Taking her hand, he led her to the bow of the ship and they knelt on the cushions and watched the city of Marseilles come into view.

  “There’s nothing I want more than to make love to you, and undress you if only to see how this jumpsuit stays in place in front,” he said, lightly running his finger down the open front again, touching her skin. “But I refuse to take advantage of you or of the moment because of your innocence. We need to spend more time together. You don’t want what I want and I need you to love me enough to want to share my life. I’m willing to date you without the world knowing about our relationship until you’re ready to share the limelight with me.”

  “But…”

  “Shh!” he whispered, touching her lips with his finger. “We’ll be in port soon and I don’t want to take you down into the master suite and make love to you in the heat of passion. Well, that’s not exactly true, either.” He laughed. “But when I make love to you, I want to be able to spend at least an entire night together and maybe the next day.”

  He reached down and kissed her once more. “I don’t want to spoil our first evening together with you having regrets in the morning.”

  “How do you know I’ll have regrets or won’t have them if we don’t make love?”

  “Because I know you.”

  “What does that mean?” She asked, interrupting him.

  “I suppose you won’t accept, ‘because I do,’ for an answer.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her facial expression told him she expected an answer.

  “I believe you are curious and innocent. I also know you are modest, and I like that. I know you were raised Catholic and have high moral standards. I do, too. I want to love you for an entire evening. I want to make love to you in the shower, and on the beach and in bed. I want to spend time awakening your passions. Tell me, am I right or am I misreading you?” He gave her a soft smile and ran his index finger down her nose.

  Mercedes tried to control her breathing. She didn’t know how to answer. Little did he know about the great awakening of passions she hadn’t experienced before tonight, but he was right. No matter how much she might dream about taking a shower with him, she was too modest and had too many inhibitions to mention them. But he had no idea how close he had come to peeling away her modesty and freeing her to surrender to him and begging him to show her how to respond.

  Dante waited for an answer, but she couldn’t tell him her thoughts. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to confess how she felt. He put his arm around her and said, “You don’t have to answer. I’m very patient and I love you the way you are.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time they disembarked and located Arthur and Charlotte waiting to take them to the airport, Mercedes had struggled to dispel her feelings and passions that Dante aroused in her. At least she hoped she didn’t appear to look like a roasted ma
rshmallow with pink cheeks.

  Having dormant sexual feelings struggling to come alive will make living a challenge and her private dreams of falling in love no longer secret. She felt positive she’d have major confrontations with her inner voice and inhibitions in the near future.

  Will Dante be able to break down my resolve? Will I give in to my passions? She coughed to hide a giggle that nearly escaped her throat when she thought what her mother’s answer would be: “Only your hairdresser knows!”

  Once settled comfortably on the plane, they were each served a small glass of sherry and a cup of thick hot chocolate with a cinnamon stick standing in the middle.

  Mercedes wanted to direct the conversation because Dante had left her feeling like a wet rag. He had no idea that only one thing could cure the ache she felt inside. If he even touched her, she’d melt like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz.

  “What happened to you in Barcelona?” she asked. “You haven’t mentioned the tournament, and I’ve been hesitant to ask.”

  “Hmm. No wonder. I failed to mention the tournament because I lost.”

  “I know that. I had to wake up very early to catch the schedule and find out what day, what time, and the opponent’s name, in order to watch you play. Once you won your semifinal match I thought the win was a given.”

  “Me, too! All right, here’s the truth,” he said, turning to look at her. “I try not to talk about my losses because I hate to lose. When I was younger I could have given McEnroe a run for his money. I’d crash racquets like they were toothpicks and yell like a maniac. And afterward, I used to sulk.”

  “You didn’t?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t know how to accept failure.”

  “And now you seem to shrug when you make an unforced error or double fault.”

  “I worked at that with a sports psychologist for a long time. I simply lost my train of thought in Barcelona. And, once I did, I spent the rest of the time being angry inside instead of putting everything I had learned to work for me. Had I done that I could have recovered and probably won.”

  “No one ever sees you struggle. What caused you to lose your train of thought?”

  “You.”

  “No!” She shook her head, embarrassed and elated at the same time.

  “Yes, you. I lost my concentration, but don’t feel bad. All my thoughts of you made me feel good. They were great, actually. Once I realized I was about to lose, I no longer cared. I had no one to blame but myself. I accepted the loss.”

  “How do you keep your concentration focused all the other times?”

  “I’ve had a few phone sessions with my therapist to help me keep on track if I want to become number one. If I win Wimbledon, I have to keep focused otherwise when I go to New York, I might lose the U.S. Open as well.”

  “You’re not allowed to lose the Open. Your interview for VIEW Magazine will be after the tournament. What will I do if you lose and can’t talk about what happened? I’ve already sold your article!”

  “Well, if I lose in New York, I promise to talk about what happened and why I lost, and I promise I won’t mention your name, for something in return.”

  “Oh, what kind of something in return?”

  “I’ll keep that a secret.”

  “That’s not fair. Is this one of those, on one condition things?”

  “I think this is very fair, otherwise you’ll come up with one of your, on one condition requests, too. This way, you’ll be anxious wondering what I want in return, then I’ll be able to concentrate on my tennis, knowing you’re thinking of me.”

  Mercedes laughed and shook her head. “You don’t play fair.”

  “How is this for fair? Let me kiss you, and you can tell your friend we made out over the Atlantic.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said.

  He pushed a button on the side of the table, and the sofa turned into a recliner.

  “Dante!” She challenged, knowing her cheeks had turned color again.

  He reached for her and kissed her tenderly, put his arm around her and pulled her close until her head rested on his chest. “Try to get some sleep.”

  When Charlotte came back in the cabin, Mercedes heard her remove the glasses and empty cups, and closed the shades to keep the rising sun from waking them, and then she disappeared as quietly as she had entered.

  ****

  Somehow, Mercedes hadn’t expected their date to end abruptly at the airport in New York because she found that deep down she didn’t want the day to end. She did her best to hide her disappointment that he’d be leaving and smiled, thanking Dante for the wonderful, and only, twenty-four hour date she’d ever had. He had more than thanked her for coming and for the perfect evening while they were still inside the plane. He wrapped his arms around her and surrounded her. He kissed her goodbye more passionately than she had ever been kissed before, as though he were going off to war or some other Hollywood drama that would keep them apart for a long time.

  When Charlotte unlatched and opened the cabin door, the stairs automatically lowered into place and the driver who brought her to the airport waited on the tarmac.

  Dante intertwined his fingers in hers and walked her down the steps, while the driver placed her bag and packages in the car. Dante helped her into the car, and gave her a sweet kiss.

  “I’ll call you when I arrive home.”

  “Thank you. Have a safe trip,” she uttered without her voice breaking. She waved goodbye to Charlotte and Art. And as her ride was about to leave the tarmac and merge into airport traffic, she turned around and looked out the rear window to see Dante still standing there watching until they were out of sight.

  She turned around and chatted with the driver all the way to her condo, because she believed if they drove in silence, she’d break down and cry. Her trip to Paris was beyond wonderful and she missed being with Dante already. She appreciated the fact that they flew into New York and not into Connecticut, making the trip home quicker than when she left. Her heart filled with elations she didn’t know how to handle.

  Once at home her emotions were intense and made her feel hyperactive. She unpacked, started her laundry, and called Faith to make plans for lunch. She couldn’t calm down long enough to relax.

  ****

  “We should have had lunch in my office,” Faith said when she arrived at the restaurant, “that way we could have gossiped in private.”

  “There are too many distractions at your work. Besides, this café is off the beaten path. We won’t run into any of our friends, and we’re hidden away in a booth. Plus, I don’t have any juicy gossip, simply girl talk. And, before I forget, this tote bag and what’s inside are for you,” Mercedes said, lifting the bag off the seat next to her and handing it to Faith.

  “Mercedes! You shouldn’t have taken the time to go shopping on your overnight tryst.”

  “He took me shopping…”

  “Oh, no!” Faith exclaimed, interrupting her. “He knows you too well. This must be love.”

  Mercedes laughed and watched her friend unwrap the asparagus serving plate.

  “You shouldn’t have, but I love this plate! And the tote bag will get a lot of use. Thank you for thinking of me. Let’s order and you can tell me all about this date.”

  Mercedes chatted non-stop and barely touched her shredded beef taco salad. When she finally ran out of things to tell Faith, she said, “I’m going to take my lunch home for dinner.”

  Faith looked at her strangely and Mercedes frowned and asked, “What?”

  “What? You fell in love, Mercedes,” she declared, her eyes widened and her eyebrows were raised.

  Mercedes blushed and shrugged.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said, as she leaned across the table and whispered, “Did you lose your virginity?”

  “Faith! No, I didn’t,” she whispered, “but he knows.”

  “He knows you didn’t lose your virginity?”

  “Stop teasing. He knows I�
�m a virgin.”

  “Did you make plans to see one another again?”

  “Nothing specific, but yes. He will plan out-of-the-way private places for us to meet, away from the paparazzi and tabloid journalists.”

  “Do you think you’ll change your mind and go to a tennis tournament?”

  “No. I decided I couldn’t handle that exposure.”

  “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? Even if Max goes with you?”

  “I’d still be leery. Dante and I are comfortable together, and he has accepted my feelings. We like a lot of the same things; he’s protective, kind, romantic, and funny, too. I feel like I’ve known him forever.”

  “You forgot handsome and rich.”

  “I didn’t forget. And, I made a huge decision while I was in the shower earlier. I am quite aware of the places where he travels, the parties and galas and all the beautiful women, and I decided I would take one day at a time and enjoy every date we have. If things don’t work out and our relationship doesn’t last, I will at least have those memories and know he loved me at one time, if not forever. But at least our time together won’t be posted all over the tabloids.”

  “I’m happy you feel that way, Mercedes. It’s about time you began to really enjoy life. You’ve changed overnight because you don’t sound like the friend I knew; but I love the new you even more, if that were possible.”

  After they parted and Faith headed back to her office, Mercedes hurried home, waiting for Dante to call. She kept busy, non-stop, which is what she did when she was anxious. She read her mail, finished her laundry, stored her luggage away, changed into comfortable bed clothes, ate her dinner, and still he hadn’t called. She fed herself every excuse as to why he hadn’t or was unable to call, until finally she gave up waiting and refused to fill her mind with negative thoughts. Moments later, when her phone rang, her heartbeat increased with excitement once again.

  “Dante!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “Did everything go all right?”

  “Yes, except I’ve wanted to call you for hours.”

  “What happened?”

  “You won’t believe where I had dinner tonight.”