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He opened the door for me and bowed me out of the Mercedes. Raymond got out and tossed him the keys, greeting him by name: Frederico.
Frederico beamed a huge smile at Raymond talking so fast that I ran out of breath just listening to him. He assured Raymond that he’d park the Mercedes in the garage carefully. He was quite unfazed about my presence, rather he beamed a smile in my direction as well as bobbing at me. I guess the news has filtered down. Raymond drew out a wad of notes and pressed it into his palm.
“Make sure we’re not disturbed.”
The small man nodded fervently. I knew Raymond meant the sleazy reporters, but I couldn’t help but feel a slight rush of anticipation at the veiled statement.
He slung his hand casually over my shoulders and led me up the road leading to the house. His overpowering scent filled my nose and made me giddy with happiness. I took a deep breath and followed him intimately aware of his body as it brushed mine repeatedly.
The inlet was a strong example of don’t judge a book by its cover. A long hall opened to us as we walked through the front door. The hall was cool and dim, but it led through the width of the house to a vast stone-flagged terrace that was bright and colorful overlooking the sparkling waters of Malibu beach.
A long table was set up for lunch, set so beautifully that my eyes widened. Apart from the exquisite dinner service and crystal glassware, there were real live pansies and purple hibiscuses artfully arranged on the table in a bold display of colors.
The handles of each cutlery were inlaid with silver. The tablecloths and napkins were cotton and the same soft warm pastels of the hibiscuses. The water jugs had gold rims and delicate gold handles.
I was in awe. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up yet.
“Wow.”
“Do you like it?” He turned looking at me with searching eyes.
“Yes,” I breathed out, “It’s all so beautiful.”
He gave a satisfied nod and held out his hands, somewhere in the house music began to play.
I felt rushed by a strong sense of uncertainty staring at Raymond’s outstretched hands framed by the luxury behind him. It would be so easy to fall in love with all this, he was perfectly playing the role of the gentleman with impeccable manners but how much of this was an act? Was he still acting out his role or this was the real thing? Even if it was, what happens next? He was attracted to me, but it didn’t go beyond that for him. He was not capable of staying committed, and I would be a fool to fall for him.
Armed with those thoughts, I stepped into his outstretched hands, and he drew me closer to him.
“Can you dance?” he asked huskily with dark eyes inflamed by desire.
I did not trust myself to speak, I nodded swallowing the lump in my throat.
He took a step backward, twirling me gracefully, as Mozart sounded softly from somewhere in the house. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was dressed in a lovely dinner gown and graceful heels twirling on the dance floor alone with my lover. A man who in a powerful tuxedo looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the room. I opened my eyes to see Raymond looking at me curiously.
“What’s running through your mind?”
“You’ve been distracted since we walked in, are you tired? We can take a breather if you want, there’s a nice view on the balcony.”
“No, no. It’s okay, I’m fine just a little woozy.” I began to turn forgetting that I was on unfamiliar heels. My legs betrayed me, and I tripped, I gave a gasp of pain as my ankles twisted.
Raymond swiftly strode up to me and picked me up in his arms.
“I don’t need –“ I began.
“Don’t say a word.” He growled and carried me into a small sitting room,cooland comfortable with the blinds half drawn against the afternoon sun. It was acalm, soothing room with a bowl of lilac roses pervading the air.
He put me down in an armchair, closed the door, and pulled up a padded footstool. He unclasped his wristwatch, drew up the arms of his shirt up to his elbow, then he sat down on the footstool and lifted up the ankle I’d twisted onto his lap, pulled off my shoe carefully.”
As my leg made contact with his lap, the touch burned, and I flinched. If he noticed my reaction, he gave no indication. He started to massage my ankle and said,
“We need to talk, Sophie.”
“Alright.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“God. No!” I exclaim in surprise.
