Christmas.”
Inside was a slim, well-read book of Byron’s poetry. For the first time since she’d met him, she felt foolish and unsure. “I wanted to give you something of mine,” she explained. “Something that meant something to me.” Awkward, she fumbled in her bag for a cigarette. “I know it’s not much, but—”
He put a hand on hers to still them. “It’s a great deal.” Unbearably moved, he released her hands to brush his fingers over her cheek. “It’s the first time you’ve given me a real part of yourself.” When he lowered his lips to hers, she felt the warmth and the need. This time she didn’t resist when he deepened the kiss, lingered over her mouth. She let herself go with the moment, wrapping her arms around him, experimenting with her tongue. Before, only boys had kissed her. This was a man, experienced and hungry, one who knew what to do with his desires. She felt his fingers slide over the satin, heating the skin beneath.
Oh, yes, she thought, she wanted him too. Timing or not, their desire wouldn’t wait much longer. Cautious, she pulled back. “Holidays make me sentimental,” she managed to say. Smiling, she rubbed her lipstick from his mouth. He grabbed her wrist, pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Come upstairs with me.”
Her heart fluttered, surprising her. He’d never asked before. “Not that sentimental.” She struggled to find her balance again. “Your guests will be arriving any minute.”
“Fuck the guests.”
She laughed, and tucked a hand through his arm. “Come on, Charlie, you know you want to fuck me. But right now you’re going to pour me a glass of champagne.”
“And later?”
“There’s only now, Charlie. The great big now.”
She strolled through a pair of double doors into a sprawling room that held a ten-foot tree glittering with lights and colored balls. It was a man’s room, and she liked it for that alone. The furniture straight-lined and simple, the chairs deep and comfortable. A fire was roaring in the huge hearth at one end of the room, and a long mahogany bar was well stocked on the other. Eve slid onto one of the leather barstools and took out a cigarette.
“Bartender,” she said, “the lady needs a drink.” As Charlie opened and poured champagne, she studied him. He was wearing a tuxedo, and the formal wear suited him. He would never compete with the current leading men. Charlie Gray was no Gable or Grant, but he had solidity and sweetness, and an appreciation for his craft. “You’re a nice man, Charlie.” Eve lifted her glass. “Here’s to you, my first real friend in the business.”
“Here’s to now,” he said, and touched his glass to hers. “And what we make of it.” He walked around the bar to take a present from under the tree. “It isn’t as intimate as Byron, but when I saw it I thought of you.”
Eve set her cigarette aside to open the box. The necklace of icy diamonds shot white fire against a bed of black velvet. In the center, like blood, dripped a huge, hot ruby. The diamonds were shaped like stars, the ruby like a tear.
“Oh. Oh, Charlie.”
“You’re not going to say I shouldn’t have.”
She shook her head. “I’d never come up with a shopworn line like that.” But her eyes were wet, and there was a lump in her throat. “I was going to say that you have excellent taste. Damn, I can’t come up with anything clever. It’s stunning.”
“So are you.” He took the necklace out, let it run through his hands. “When you reach for the stars, Eve, you lose blood and tears. That’s something you should remember.” He slipped it around her neck and fastened it. “Some women are born to wear diamonds.”
“I’m sure I was. Now I’m going to do something very typical.” Laughing, she dug in her purse for her compact. After snapping it open, she studied the necklace in the small square mirror. “God.
Goddamn
, it’s beautiful.” She spun around on the stool to kiss him. “I feel like a
Inside was a slim, well-read book of Byron’s poetry. For the first time since she’d met him, she felt foolish and unsure. “I wanted to give you something of mine,” she explained. “Something that meant something to me.” Awkward, she fumbled in her bag for a cigarette. “I know it’s not much, but—”
He put a hand on hers to still them. “It’s a great deal.” Unbearably moved, he released her hands to brush his fingers over her cheek. “It’s the first time you’ve given me a real part of yourself.” When he lowered his lips to hers, she felt the warmth and the need. This time she didn’t resist when he deepened the kiss, lingered over her mouth. She let herself go with the moment, wrapping her arms around him, experimenting with her tongue. Before, only boys had kissed her. This was a man, experienced and hungry, one who knew what to do with his desires. She felt his fingers slide over the satin, heating the skin beneath.
Oh, yes, she thought, she wanted him too. Timing or not, their desire wouldn’t wait much longer. Cautious, she pulled back. “Holidays make me sentimental,” she managed to say. Smiling, she rubbed her lipstick from his mouth. He grabbed her wrist, pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Come upstairs with me.”
Her heart fluttered, surprising her. He’d never asked before. “Not that sentimental.” She struggled to find her balance again. “Your guests will be arriving any minute.”
“Fuck the guests.”
She laughed, and tucked a hand through his arm. “Come on, Charlie, you know you want to fuck me. But right now you’re going to pour me a glass of champagne.”
“And later?”
“There’s only now, Charlie. The great big now.”
She strolled through a pair of double doors into a sprawling room that held a ten-foot tree glittering with lights and colored balls. It was a man’s room, and she liked it for that alone. The furniture straight-lined and simple, the chairs deep and comfortable. A fire was roaring in the huge hearth at one end of the room, and a long mahogany bar was well stocked on the other. Eve slid onto one of the leather barstools and took out a cigarette.
“Bartender,” she said, “the lady needs a drink.” As Charlie opened and poured champagne, she studied him. He was wearing a tuxedo, and the formal wear suited him. He would never compete with the current leading men. Charlie Gray was no Gable or Grant, but he had solidity and sweetness, and an appreciation for his craft. “You’re a nice man, Charlie.” Eve lifted her glass. “Here’s to you, my first real friend in the business.”
“Here’s to now,” he said, and touched his glass to hers. “And what we make of it.” He walked around the bar to take a present from under the tree. “It isn’t as intimate as Byron, but when I saw it I thought of you.”
Eve set her cigarette aside to open the box. The necklace of icy diamonds shot white fire against a bed of black velvet. In the center, like blood, dripped a huge, hot ruby. The diamonds were shaped like stars, the ruby like a tear.
“Oh. Oh, Charlie.”
“You’re not going to say I shouldn’t have.”
She shook her head. “I’d never come up with a shopworn line like that.” But her eyes were wet, and there was a lump in her throat. “I was going to say that you have excellent taste. Damn, I can’t come up with anything clever. It’s stunning.”
“So are you.” He took the necklace out, let it run through his hands. “When you reach for the stars, Eve, you lose blood and tears. That’s something you should remember.” He slipped it around her neck and fastened it. “Some women are born to wear diamonds.”
“I’m sure I was. Now I’m going to do something very typical.” Laughing, she dug in her purse for her compact. After snapping it open, she studied the necklace in the small square mirror. “God.
Goddamn
, it’s beautiful.” She spun around on the stool to kiss him. “I feel like a
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