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“Are you happily married?” heasked.
I twisted the thin gold band I wore on my finger but I didn’tanswer.
“I don’t think you are. You wouldn’t have been sitting, alone, in a bar for…” He consulted his watch. “Three hours talking tome.”
I didn’t have an answer, well I did, but not one I was prepared to give to a stranger. I gently slid from thebarstool.
“Do you want to take me to bed?” I asked, surprisingmyself.
I was thankful that I held my clutch to stop my hands fromshaking.
“Yes.” He laid down the glass of whiskey and the ice tinkled as hedid.
Brown eyes stared at me; eyes that failed to concealmischief.
He stood, towering over me. He slowly slipped on his jacket, closed the buttons before taking my hand in his and leading me to the lift. He didn’t speak as he retrieved a card from his inside pocket and inserted it into akeypad.
The lift ascended beyond the numbers listed and opened to a foyer. He took the card from the keypad and walked to an oak door, the only door in the corridor. The click as the lock disengaged was only marginally louder than my heart hammering in mychest.
He opened the door, swinging it wide, then stepping aside to allow me to enter before him. I walked into the penthousesuite.
“Can I get you another drink?” heasked.
I nodded; my mouth was too dry to formwords.
I watched him stride to a cabinet. I heard the tinkle as ice was placed in glasses and then the splash of liquid. He returned with two crystal cut glasses and handed meone.
“More whiskey,” he said. His voice was low,husky.
I took a sip, welcoming the burn as the liquid hit my lips, my tongue, and gently slid down my throat. I cursed the ice as its noise gave away how much my hand was shaking. He took a step closer, then another. He reached up and trailed a finger down my cheek, then over mythroat.
“You have for as long as it takes you to drink that whiskey. After that, if you are still here, there’s no turning back,” hesaid.
I raised the glass to my lips once more and downed it in one. My eyes watered. I glanced to the side of me, reached out, and placed the empty glass on a coffee table. I then stood tall and stared back at him. His lips slowly formed a smile, a very wickedsmile.
“I don’t know your name,” I said,quietly.
“Neither do you need to. Think of this as just one night with a stranger, one night to fulfil yourfantasy.”
I didn’t think sex with a stranger had featured high up on my list of fantasies, but the heat coursing through my body and the throbbing between my legs told meotherwise.
3
For a moment there was silence.He sipped his drink and stared at me. He was so close I could smell his muskyscent.
“Did he betray you?” hewhispered.
At first I was unsure what he meant. It took me a moment tounderstand.
“Yes,” Ianswered.
“And you feel,what?”
Even if I didn’t want to, I answered; I couldn’t stopmyself.
“Worthless. Inadequate.Lonely.”
He placed his glass on the coffee table next to mine. He reached up with his hand and pulled the pins from my hair, letting it tumble around my shoulders. He ran his fingers throughit.
