Forty 2 Days (The Billionaire Banker) by Georgia le Carre Page B

reinserts them into place.  His hand drops off.
    ‘ Would you like a drink?’
    It occurs to me that I am already a little drunk.  ‘No, I had some back at the flat.’
    His eyes flash. ‘Champagne.’ He remembered.
    I shake my head.  ‘Vodka.’
    He nods.  ‘Food for you then,’ he says.  
    We are shown to the same table.  I look closely at him.  Try to see beyond the mask, but his face is deliberately blank.  In a daze I order food.  It arrives.  I pick up my knife and fork.  Slip it between my lips.  Taste nothing.  I lift my eyes to him and catch him watching me.  His eyes are ravenous.  His food untouched.  Between my legs I ache.  I swallow the food in my mouth.  It becomes a lump that sticks in my throat.  I reach for the wine glass and take a gulp, but that only makes me choke.  I start to cough.  My eyes fill with water.  Fuck.  Trust me to do something so sexually unappealing.
    ‘ Are you all right?’
    ‘ Fine,’ I say flushing with embarrassment.  I need to go to the Ladies and sort myself out.  
    ‘ Excuse me,’ I croak, putting the napkin on the table and standing up.
    He stands when I do.  I leave the table and feel his eyes boring into me until I round the bend.  I go into the Ladies and look at myself in the mirror.  And again I am surprised by my reflection.  I honestly can hardly recognize myself, the new hairstyle, the clothes, the make-up, but more than all of that is the look in my eyes.  Wild.  ‘I am Lana from the council estate, mother of Sorab,’ I say aloud.  
    That piece of hair comes loose again.  I carefully pull one of the pins out a little and wind the hair around that pin.  It seems to do the job.  I take a deep breath and go back out to the restaurant.
    While I have been away Blake has not touched his food.  Instead, he has finished his whiskey and ordered another.  He looks at me from above the rim of his glass.
    ‘ Aren’t you hungry?’ I ask.
    He puts his glass down and catches my fingers.  His hands are exactly as I remember, firm, warm, strong.  He turns them over and looks at my nails.
    ‘ Very nice,’ he says softly, and bringing them to his lips kisses them.  It is a mocking gesture, but at the touch of his cool lips I tremble with anticipation.  I remember them smiling with sexual invitation.  He lets his fingers run up the skin of my wrist.  ‘Pure fucking silk.’  His eyes rise up to meet mine.  Between the thick lashes they are potent, compelling.  ‘Have you missed me even a little, Lana?’
    For an instant, I forget myself and respond to the emotion I see simmering in his eyes.  ‘There is not a day that has gone by where I have not longed for you,’ I whisper.
    As if I have slapped him, he snatches his hand away and begins to laugh bitterly.  He shakes his head as if in wonder.  ‘I see now why I was fooled by you.  You’re downright lethal.  A very, very dangerous seductress indeed I have caught in my net.’  
    He drains his glass and, looking away from me, gestures to a waiter for another.  When he turns back to face me, his eyes are glittering.  ‘So how much did my father pay you?’
    I pause.  I am in dangerous territory.  My contract with Victoria does not allow me to reveal the sum or even tell anyone that I have been paid by her.  The waiter arrives with his whiskey and sets it down in front of him.
    ‘ Another,‘ Blake barks.  
    The waiter nods discreetly and clears his empty glass in one smooth movement.  Blake does not take his eyes off me.
    Billie is right.  My position is untenable.  In his eyes I must be the worst kind of slut.  Ahead lies only more misunderstanding and pain for both of us.  The pain has already begun, a physical ache.  It fills my chest.  I can never tell him the truth.  In his mind I will always be his bad romance.  Lady Gaga singing, ‘I want your ugly.  I want your disease.’  
    ‘ I’m sorry, but I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement,’ I