A Kiss To Remember Page 7

  Angie choked down the bile which rose in her throat and launched herself across the room towards him. Lance seemed startled when she grabbed his arm and said she wanted to go home and needed him to move his car.

  Quickly recovering, he excused himself from the blonde, who didn’t look so pleased now.

  ‘And where are you two off to?’ Bud pounced as they made their way together towards the front door.

  ‘Angie wants to go home,’ Lance explained patiently, ‘and my car’s parked behind hers.’

  Bud’s obvious relief reminded Angie of how disapproving her brother would be of her becoming sexually involved with Lance. Not that she intended telling him.

  Still, maybe that would never happen, now that Blondie had come on the scene. Angie’s insides began to churn. She wished Bud would just disappear, so she could get Lance alone to tackle him on the subject.

  ‘Goodnight, then, love,’ Bud said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thanks for coming. I’m not sure I should thank you for that rude birthday present, though. Just wait till your next birthday comes along. I’ll find you something that will make you go as red as a beetroot!’

  Angie laughed. ‘I’ll look forward to it. Say goodnight to Loretta for me, will you, Bud? I really must go home. I have this awful headache coming on.’

  ‘Do you really have a headache?’ Lance asked her after he’d moved his car and returned to where she was standing by her own.

  ‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘And it has blonde hair and big boobs!’

  ‘Ah...’ He grinned at her. ‘You’re jealous.’

  ‘And if I am?’

  ‘If you are, sweet Angie,’ he said, drawing her into his arms, ‘then that’s good. That’s very good.’

  ‘You wouldn’t think it was so good if you were on the other end. There again, I suppose you’re never jealous, are you?’

  ‘I could be...’

  ‘You’re not going to sleep with that woman tonight, are you, Lance?’ she asked, true anxiety in her face and words.

  Lance lurched backwards as though she’d struck him, his arms dropping away, his eyes suddenly stormy. ‘Damn and blast, but I’m getting fed up with this! What is it with you? Do you think I have such little control that I can’t go one night without sex? I’m not some randy ram who ruts around indiscriminately. I do have some standards. Believe it or not, I like to know and respect a woman before I go to bed with her. I haven’t had a mindless one-night stand since the night of my uni graduation party.’

  ‘Oh! I...I’m sorry, Lance,’ she apologised, confused by his heated defence of his own character. And not altogether convinced he was telling the truth.

  ‘And so you should be,’ he ground out. ‘I’ve had about as much second-hand insult from the Browns tonight as I can take. It’s got to stop, Angie. I’m not what you think I am. Hell, don’t you have any respect for me at all? Have you agreed to have an affair with me only for the sex?’

  Angie’s confusion changed into total fluster. She dithered and hesitated and blushed till he solved the problem for her.

  Lance stared at her. ‘Hell, it is just the sex, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she denied through her fluster. ‘I..... I like you a lot. I’ve always liked you. You know that, Lance.’

  ‘You loved me, Angie. That’s a lot more than just like.’

  ‘I thought I loved you,’ she countered. ‘I was only a child, for pity’s sake.’

  ‘You were more an adult woman at fifteen than my wife was at twenty-four!’

  Angie gasped and stared up at him. He reached out and cradled her cheeks, drawing her gently up on tiptoe till their mouths met. ‘You loved me,’ he whispered into her softly parted lips. ‘Don’t deny it.’

  A sob of admission fluttered from deep within her throat.

  ‘Maybe you still do?’ he suggested huskily.

  She gasped again and drew back, green eyes wide and heart pounding. ‘No,’ she choked out, a wild panic claiming her.

  ‘No?’ he repeated, blue eyes narrowing on her.

  ‘No, I don’t still love you,’ she stated, with a firmness which belied her inner upheaval. ‘As you just said, I don’t even know you any more.’

  ‘Then you will,’ he vowed somewhat darkly. ‘Starting tomorrow.’

  ‘Only biblically speaking.’

  Frustration flared in his face. ‘If you think that, then you don’t know anything about really making love.’

  ‘I don’t pretend to,’ she said sharply.

  ‘Then don’t pretend to know what will transpire between us tomorrow. Now, go home, Angie. I’ve run out of patience for this kind of conversation tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eleven.’

  ‘Eleven!’

  ‘Yes, eleven.’

  ‘Why so early?’

  ‘Have you anything else you have to be doing tomorrow?’

  ‘No...’

  ‘Then be ready at eleven.’ He went to spin away when she called him back. ‘What?’ he snapped.

  ‘You... you don’t have my address.’

  ‘I’ll get it from Bud.’

  Angie grimaced. ‘But I... I don’t want Bud to know...’

  His glare made her feel vaguely ashamed. ‘I see,’ he said rather coldly. ‘Very well, tell me your address. Believe me when I assure you I won’t forget it.’

  She told him and he was immediately striding away from her, not looking back, his body language showing extreme annoyance. He’d obviously taken her last request as another insult—this suspicion confirmed by his banging the front door shut behind him.

  Angie groaned her dismay out loud. She would have liked nothing better than to tell the world Lance was going to become her lover. If he loved her. If there was some guarantee that tomorrow night would be the beginning of a real relationship, not just a sexual rendezvous.

  But Angie was not about to fool herself. Lance’s claims didn’t change the fact that his record with the opposite sex was hardly enviable. Maybe he had stopped having one-night stands after leaving university. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t had a huge turnover of girlfriends. His marriage failing after four years was hardly a recommendation for relationship-forming, either.

  His promiscuity over the years probably wasn’t all his fault, she conceded. His inherited wealth, plus the many talents God had given him, made him a compulsive target for women. Clearly they threw themselves at his feet all the time. Still, she doubted he’d been a faithful husband. She doubted a lot of what Lance had said to her.

  Sighing, Angie turned and climbed into her car. Time to go home. Time to try to get some sleep.

  Tomorrow was not many hours away. It was, in fact, she realised as she glanced at the clock on the dashboard, already here.

  * * *

  ‘You’re pulling my leg!’ Vanessa exclaimed.

  It was five past nine and both girls had struggled out of bed shortly before, then padded out to the kitchen in pyjamas and slippers for some reviving coffee. While the kettle came slowly to a boil Angie had told her flatmate about the night before. And Lance.

  ‘I’m beginning to wish I was,’ Angie said, a rush of sick nerves claiming her stomach. ‘I’m never going to be able to eat any breakfast, the way I’m beginning to feel.’

  ‘Now, let me get this straight,’ Vanessa resumed, once they’d settled at the kitchen table with their coffee. ‘Lover-boy Lance has left his wife and—’

  ‘His wife left him,’ Angie corrected.

  ‘Do you know why?’

  ‘There’s another man, I gather. From what Lance said, there’d been more than one.’

  ‘You’re telling me that Mr Irresistible’s wife has been having affairs?’ Vanessa said sceptically. ‘After only four years?’

  Angie shrugged. ‘Maybe she was a slut.’

  ‘And maybe her superstud husband was so busy servicing every attractive female he came across, he didn’t have time for the little wife back home.’

  ‘He says h
e’s not like that any more.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Angie, he had you flat on your back within an hour or two of meeting you again. That’s pretty good going, don’t you think? And hardly the action of a recently faithful husband.’

  ‘It might very well be the action of a recently faithful husband,’ Angie argued, her face flushing with indignation as Vanessa voiced her own fears out loud. The cold light of morning rather made one see things differently. ‘If he was completely conscienceless, he wouldn’t have stopped once he found out I was a virgin.’

  Vanessa gave her a pitying look. ‘You don’t believe that any more than I do. He’s merely exchanged a few seconds of passing pleasure for a whole night’s worth of proper bonking. He gave you a line of bull, darling, and you fell for it.’

  Angie put her mug down with a clank. ‘Hey! You were one who said I should get myself laid, remember? Well, I’m going to. Tonight. And Lance is going to do the honours.’

  Vanessa gave her another pitying look. ‘You still love him, don’t you? It’s the only explanation for your putting yourself through this torture.’

  ‘What torture? Lance makes love like a dream. I ought to know. I had an advance sample last night in his car.’

  ‘He might make love like a dream but the afterwards will be a nightmare! Hell, Angie, you pined over one bloody kiss for nine years. Lord knows what one entire night’s expert lovemaking will do to you! On a scale of one for a kiss and ten for the real thing, you’ll be a cot-case for ninety years!’

  Tears suddenly flooded Angie eyes. ‘You think I don’t know that?’ she choked out, jumping to her feet and running for the bedroom. She was already sobbing uncontrollably by the time she hit the unmade bed, face-down.

  Vanessa wasn’t far behind. ‘Oh, dear,’ she sighed, sitting down on the side of the bed and putting a sympathetic hand on her weeping friend’s shoulder. ‘You really should stop all that bawling. It’s going to make your eyes red and puffy. Cinderella can be covered in chimney dust when Prince Charming arrives, but her eyes are never red and puffy. Look, don’t take any notice of me. I’m probably just jealous. You go and bonk your brains out with him. Who knows? It might get him out of your system. Even if it doesn’t, it might get you into his. Maybe, when the night is over, he won’t, want it to be over. Do you get my drift?’

  Angie rolled over, blinking as rapidly as her heart was suddenly beating. ‘Do you really think that’s possible, Vanessa?’

  ‘Hell, honey, if I were a guy and you presented yourself to me on a silver platter, I reckon I’d want to keep you on that silver platter for more than one miserable night. You’re the genuine article, and genuine articles don’t come along very often these days.’

  Angie sat up and threw her arms around a startled Vanessa, hugging her fiercely. ‘Oh, thank you for saying that!’ she exclaimed excitedly. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  ‘Lordie, Miss Claudie!’ Vanessa said, extracting herself from Angie’s fierce embrace. ‘You are an emotional little thing under that cool exterior of yours, aren’t you?’

  Angie smiled as she dashed away her tears. ‘Our family’s rather given to hugging, that’s all.’

  ‘Does dear Lance know what he’s getting tonight?’ Vanessa asked drily.

  Her question bewildered Angie. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Never mind,’ Vanessa muttered. ‘What are you going to wear for this momentous occasion?’

  ‘I have no idea. Lance is picking me up at eleven.’

  ‘Eleven!’ Vanessa wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, yuk. There’s nothing worse than doing it in the daytime. Takes all the romance out of it.’

  Angie laughed. ‘You are funny! But I don’t think that’s what Lance’s plan is. He has some idea about my getting to know the new him first.’

  Vanessa’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? That sounds promising.’

  ‘I thought so too... at the time...’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I just feel sick.’

  ‘You can always back out. Ring him and say you’ve changed your mind.’

  Angie shook her head vigorously from side to side. ‘I could never live with myself if I did that.’

  ‘Will you be able to live with yourself if this comes to nothing more than that kiss did all those years ago?’

  ‘I’ll have to, because there’s no going back, Vanessa. And no changing my mind. I’ll survive losing Lance again. I won’t survive not doing this.’

  ‘I suppose the experience will add perspective to your counselling abilities,’ her flatmate said drily. ‘My mother always said one should look for the plusses in every negative.’

  ‘I doubt many women would rate sleeping with Lance a negative,’ came Angie’s equally dry retort.

  ‘Really? I must get a gander at this god-like creature when he arrives to pick you up. Do let me answer the door.’

  ‘Be my guest. My knees will be knocking by then.’

  ‘Oh, no, they won’t be. You’ll sail out of here looking and acting as cool as a cucumber, because that’s the way you are. Or at least seem to be on the surface.’ A devilish gleam glittered in Vanessa’s dark brown eyes. ‘I’d sure love to be a fly on the wall later on when lover-boy takes you to bed. If he thinks he’s getting a shy, quiet little virgin then he might be in for a shock or two. I suspect there might be a hot little number somewhere behind those prissy clothes you wear to school.’

  ‘I wasn’t exactly dressed prissily last night,’ Angie reminded her friend.

  ‘No, and look where it got you. Almost being raped in the front seat of a car!’

  ‘I wasn’t nearly raped at all. I was all for it till the last moment.’

  ‘Which reminds me. Have a couple of glasses of champers or something equivalent before the real thing tonight. Relaxation is the name of the game, girl.’

  ‘All right. I’ll do that.’

  ‘And I’ll pop a few you-know-whats in your handbag in case Casanova has a memory lapse. Nothing kills passion more quickly than having to dash out to the chemist at the last moment.’

  ‘Yes, Teacher.’

  ‘Don’t knock it, honey. I wish I’d had an understanding flatmate to give me all this good advice before I did it for the first time. There again—’ she stopped to flash Angie a wicked grin ‘—I didn’t have a flatmate at fourteen.’

  ‘Fourteen!’

  Vanessa shrugged. ‘I always was a precocious child. Now, shouldn’t you be hot-footing it into the shower? Time and tide waits for no man. Neither does man wait for woman.’

  Angie was still smiling when she closed the bathroom door. But as she stripped off her pyjamas and saw her naked reflection in the vanity mirror, her smile faded.

  A nice body wouldn’t be enough to capture Lance’s heart. He’d had enough nice bodies to last a lifetime. And proving to be a hot little number wouldn’t impress, either. No doubt he’d had some women who had been so hot they’d melted their satin sheets.

  No, there was no point in Angie doing herself up sexily today. Or in trying to outdo all his other lovers in bed. She wouldn’t be able to, anyway. It would be like trying to win an Olympic medal at a sport she’d only just taken up the week before the games.

  But she could give Lance what perhaps he’d never had before. A truly loving experience. A night full of warmth and affection and genuine gratitude. For she was indeed grateful to him. No matter what his motive, he was about fulfil part of her deepest dream—the one she’d once expressed in the poem she’d given him nine years ago.

  Angie still hugged that secret dream to her heart, and tonight—tonight, a small part of that dream would come true.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Angie’s flat was on the second and top floor of a rather old building in North Sydney, in a handy street tucked away behind the main business district. It was not far from the station, but unfortunately without any view of the nearby harbour or bridge.

  The block had twelve flats in all, four on each floor. Angie
’s was number eleven. Its living-room window overlooked the street below, which proved to be an asset if one wanted to spy on people arriving or leaving.

  At five to eleven Vanessa took up her position behind the half-closed Venetian blind.

  ‘What kind of car does he drive?’ she called out to Angie, who was still in the bathroom, deciding if she should wear her hair up or down.

  ‘Black,’ came back the answer.

  ‘Yes, but what kind?’

  ‘I have no idea. It’s not a sports car, but it’s sleek and foreign-looking.’

  ‘With roomy bucket seats in the front,’ Vanessa added drily.

  ‘And tinted windows.’

  ‘It’s just pulled up outside.’

  ‘It has?’ Angie squawked, dashing out of the bathroom, holding her hair on top of her head.

  Vanessa looked her up and down. ‘I just hate people who can wear any old thing and still look fantastic.’

  ‘This dress is not any old thing!’ Angie protested. Made of a bright orange linen, it was halter-necked and very fitted, hugging her figure down to just above her knee. ‘It cost two hundred dollars new.’

  Admittedly, she had bought it a couple of years ago, and worn it to death. But it always made her feel good, and was the least prim and proper thing she owned, other than the green silk party number she’d worn the previous night. Angie was only human, and had decided in the end that she wanted to look sexy for Lance.

  ‘Should I wear my hair up or down?’ she asked in desperation.

  ‘Up. With little wispy bits hanging around your face and neck. Not too tidy or tight, either. Loose is sexy. And earrings are a must. I’ve got just the thing. Oo-ee. Lover-boy just got out of the car— which is an Audi, by the way—and you’re right. He’s scrumptious!’

  ‘What’s he wearing?’

  ‘A bluey grey suit. Wow, Angie, I’ve got the hots for him already.’

  ‘Hands off, Vanessa. He’s mine.’

  Vanessa laughed. ‘Do you honestly think he’d look twice at me with you in the same universe? I’ll just go get those earrings—and those other things I promised. You whack some pins in your hair. Then when lover-boy arrives don’t come out for a full five minutes.’