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Rick screws up his mouth. "I think I saw that on a T-shirt. Now, are you going to tell me about your book or not? I flew here from England just to hear this."
"But Madeleine must've been expecting a tropical holiday, not a business meeting. Why else would she travel here with you?"
"The book, Dex. Now."
Our host simply smiles, the expression as inscrutable as the man himself. I'm getting the idea that Dex likes to keep people wondering, possibly because he enjoys the attention. He must be lonely living here with only a small staff. I assume he has that staff since it's clear someone cleans the house and cooks the meals. Plus, an older woman served our dinner.
Though it's not my business, maybe I can assist Richard in this discussion. Dex likes me, and I like him, so I've got a bit of leverage here.
I hold up my empty snifter. "Would you mind if I have a little more of your delicious cognac, Dex?"
He lights up, leaning forward to pick up the bottle. "Of course, dear Madeleine. I'm glad you like it. This bottle cost two thousand East Caribbean dollars."
While he refills my glass, I sit there frozen. "Two thousand? How much is that in American dollars?"
"I've no idea."
"Eight hundred American dollars," Rick says.
I glance down at my now-full glass. "Holy shit. That's still a lot of money. The most expensive bottle of wine I ever bought cost ninety dollars."
Dexter holds the bottle out to Richard. "Care for a little more? I love burning through money, but drinking it is even better."
"No, thank you. About your manuscript…"
"Relax, Rick, I'll tell you soon enough." He winks. "But let's watch Maddie enjoy liquid sex before we get back to business."
My boyfriend, or whatever he is to me, clenches his jaw and his hands, tightening those into fists on his thighs. Either Dex doesn't notice, or he doesn't care.
I kiss Rick's cheek and whisper into his ear, "I'll handle this."
Yeah, I can handle Dex. But it might require a small sacrifice, one that involves doing something I've never done before.
That's right. To spare Richard from potential murder charges, if Dex keeps stringing him along, I will get drunk. Well, tipsy. I already feel looser than usual thanks to the cognac, but I'm willing to go all the way to get this done.
I throw back my entire glass of cognac in one gulp. It sizzles down my throat and rushes through my system with a heady warmth that incongruously makes me shiver. "Ooh, that's wonderful. I love this stuff even more with every new glassful." I thrust my snifter out toward Dex. "More, please."
"Haven't you had enough?" Rick asks.
"Mm-mm. I need more." Do I sound like a lusty coed at her first frat party? Yeah, I am lusting after that cognac. And Rick. How much fun would it be to pour cognac all over his body and lick it all up? Lots, I'm sure. So I hold out my snifter. "Hit me again, Dex. Make it a double. Or whatever comes after double. Tribble? Something like that."
He pours me another glass of yummy liquid heaven. His smile carves out dimples in his cheeks. He looks like Santa Claus, except for that naughty glint in his eyes and the Victorian outfit he's wearing. If he'd lived way back when, Dexter would've been the wickedest rake in London.
I knock back the entire glass in one swallow, giggling and shivering. "Oh wow, I love it more every time I take it into my mouth. I'm getting kind of tingly all over."
And that feeling makes me look at Rick. Or Richard. Which does he prefer? I can't remember right now, so I'll call him Rick. It's a sexy, sexy, hot and sexy name. If Rick had lived in ye olden days, he would've been the man every woman wants to marry and shag and do…uh, other stuff with. My thoughts are getting kind of fuzzy, and my body feels soft and warm, but I kind of like this. A massage in a bottle, that's what this cognac is. A naughty massage.
I want Rick to give me one of those. Right now. On the coffee table.
Wow, who knew getting bombed could make me so horny? Not that I am bombed. I don't think I am, but… whatever.
Dex offers me the bottle. "Want the rest, lovey?"
"Yes," I say, the last letter drawn out into a hissing sound.
Rick snatches the bottle away before I can grab it. Though I had reached for the bottle, my fingers kept scooting right past it for some weird reason.
Is this a buzz? People talk about that, but I've never gotten tipsy before, so I have no idea what a buzz feels like. Whatever you call it, me want more.
