“I'll call you tomorrow.” He stood up. It was time to go. Before he did something he would regret later, even if she didn't. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”

“Anytime.” She watched him closely as they walked to the door, and then looked into his eyes with something few men saw. Although she had bedded down with many, there were few who knew her. “Oliver … thank you … for everything. …”

“I didn't do anything, except eat and talk, and enjoy being with you. You don't need to thank me.”

“Thank you for being who you are … even if you never call me.” She was used to that, usually after a night of unbound passion. As she had said to him, people came and went in her life. She was used to it. But if he didn't call her, she would somehow miss him.

“I'll call you.” And with that, he bent, and took her in his arms and kissed her. She was the first woman he had kissed since his wife had left, and her mouth was inviting and warm, and her body strong and appealing. He wanted to make love to her more than anything, but he also knew he had to go. He wanted to think about this. She was too powerful a woman to be taken lightly.

“Good night,” she whispered as the elevator came, and he smiled as he looked her straight in the eye as the doors closed. She stood there for a long time, and then she walked slowly back into her apartment and closed the door. She went back to the terrace, and sat down, thinking about him … and the sister she hadn't talked about in years. And without knowing why, or for which of them, she began to cry softly.





Chapter 15


He called her, as promised, first thing the next morning, and invited her to lunch at the Four Seasons that day. He had lain in bed thinking about her for hours the night before, and hating himself for not staying and making love to her. He had had everything in the world handed to him on a silver platter, and he had run away. He felt like a total fool, and he was sure that Megan shared his opinion.

They met at the Four Seasons at noon, and she was wearing a bright red silk dress and high-heeled black patent leather sandals, and he thought she was the sexiest woman he had ever seen. It made him feel like an even bigger fool about the night before, and he told her as much as they settled down at their table. The fountain in the middle of the room was issuing a delicate spray, and there were people everywhere from his business and her own. It was hardly a discreet place for them to meet, but neither of them had any reason to keep secrets.

She told him about the new book she was interested in publishing, and he explained to her at length about one of their new clients. And it was three o'clock before they looked around and realized that they were the only people left in the room. Megan laughed and Oliver looked faintly embarrassed.

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked as they left.

“Can you cook?”

“No.” He laughed. “But I can fake it. What would you like? Pizza? Chinese? Pastrami sandwich? Cheeseburger from Hamburger Heaven?”

She laughed at him. “Why don't I pick up some things at my favorite deli and we can make a mess of it together?”

“Sounds great.” He loved the idea, the coziness of it, and most of all the prospect of seeing her again.

“Do you like moussaka?”

“I love it.” But he was a lot more interested in her than the meal, and he kissed her lightly on the cheek as he put her in a cab and walked back to his office.

“New client?” Daphne asked him at four o'clock when she dropped by his office with some storyboards to show him.

“Who?”

“That knockout I saw you with at lunch.” She grinned happily at him across his desk and he blushed and pretended to concentrate on the storyboards for the commercial.

“What are you doing? Spying on me?”

“Do I smell spring in the air? Or is that her perfume?”

“Mind your own business. It's probably Raid. I found a cockroach under my desk this morning.”

“A likely story. Even the plastic plants can't breathe in this place, let alone a nice healthy cockroach. She's gorgeous. Who is she?”

“Just a girl I met the other day.”

“Very nice. Serious?” She was like a sister to him, and he loved her for it.

“Not yet. And probably never. She's one of those great independent women like my ex-wife, she believes in careers and freedom and not getting too attached to anyone.” But it was the first time he had called Sarah that, and that in itself was a step in the right direction.

“She sounds like big trouble. Just have a good time before she breaks your heart.”

“I'm getting there.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Now, do you mind if we get back to work, or would you rather play advice to the lovelorn?”

“Don't be so touchy.” But they forewent their dinner date that night, and they both worked late. And when he went home, he called Megan. She was out, but her answering machine was on. He left his name and just said he'd called to say hello, and reconfirmed their date for the following evening.

She arrived promptly at eight, arms laden with goodies, and they unpacked them together in his kitchen.

“This is a nice place,” she said politely, but it was nothing like hers, and it still had the impersonal feeling of someone else's apartment. Only the children had impressed their personalities on their rooms, but Ollie had done nothing much about the rest, and with Aggie away, there weren't even flowers. He had thought about it too late, after he got home, and was opening a bottle of wine for their dinner.

“How was your day?”

“Not bad. How was yours?” She looked relaxed and happy in a white silk skirt slit almost to her thigh, and a turquoise blouse that made her honey-tanned skin look even darker.

He told her what he had done all day, and it was nice having someone to share it with, as they ate the moussaka at the kitchen table.

“It must be lonely for you here, with the children gone.”

He smiled at her, wondering if it was an invitation to go back to her place. “It gets a little quiet without them. But I've been working pretty late most nights.” And he suddenly had the feeling that he wouldn't be doing that for much longer.

They talked about crazy things, polo, and baseball, her parents again, and her dislike of the English. He suspected that it was due to the man who had caused the suicide of her sister. She had strong opinions about everything, and when she helped him clear the dishes, he noticed the slit in her skirt again, and felt an irresistible wave of arousal.

They sat in the living room afterward, drinking wine, and talking, and then suddenly, without knowing how it had happened, he found himself kissing her and they were lying on the couch, and he wanted desperately to make love to her. Her skirt was around her waist, her thighs bare, and as his hand passed over the satin of her flesh, he realized that she had worn nothing but her body beneath the skirt, and he groaned with desire as he felt her. His fingers found what he was looking for, and she moaned softly, as the years fell away from him and he was young again, young and in love and overwhelmed with passion. He pulled off her blouse, and she magically undid the skirt, and she lay naked and splendid beneath his hands, and the sight of her took his breath away she was so lovely.

“My God, Megan … my God …” And then expertly, teasingly, tauntingly, she peeled his clothes from him, and they lay on the couch making love as he had never made love before. She did things to him that he had never dared dream of, and she filled him with a desire so powerful that he took her with force, and came like an earthquake inside her. And then he lay over her, feeling her body tremble, and then begin to writhe slowly. He couldn't believe she wanted more, but she guided his hands back to her, and then pushed his head between her legs, and his tongue caressed the places where she wanted him. She moaned and she cried and she shuddered, and in a moment he entered her again, and they lay making love for hours, again and again. She pulled him to the floor, and then he led her to his bedroom. And at last they lay spent, side by side, and she laughed her deep, throaty laughter, and pulled him to her again as he groaned.

“Good God, woman, you're going to kill me.”

“But what a way to die!” They both laughed, and a little while later, she ran a bath for him, and then they made love in the bathtub. It was an unforgettable night for both of them, and as the sun came up, they were soaking happily in the bathtub. She was nothing like anyone he had ever known, she was overwhelmed with desire, and brought the same out in him. He had never thought himself capable of the feats she had had him perform, but he had loved it.

“Do you realize, we've been making love for ten straight hours? It's seven o'clock in the morning' He was astonished at what they'd done. Astonished, and pleased with himself and with her. It was nothing like his lovemaking with Sarah, and he had thought their love life had been perfect.

“After seven months, don't you think you deserve it?” She smiled at him and he laughed.

“I hadn't looked at it that way. Maybe we should try again.” But he was only joking. And she wasn't. She sat astride him in the bathtub as he laughed and rode him again, and much to his amazement, within moments he was aching for her again, and they rolled and splashed and cavorted like two dolphins in the bathtub, and then he pressed her against the side of the tub and ground himself into her as she moaned, out of control, begging him not to stop, and finally screaming as they both exploded from the depths of the warm, soapy water. “Oh Megan … what you do to me! …” His voice was deep and hoarse as he kissed her neck and she opened her eyes to look at him and stroke the blond hair that was disheveled from their passion. “I've never known anyone like you.”