NINE

 

Ida

 

 

“What do you think?” I ask Marta as I spin in a circle to show her my outfit.

“Absolutely fucking stunning,” she shouts. “Felix will be offering you a ride on his disco stick the second he sees you.”

“Good grief, woman.” I throw one of my pillows at her. “One day your lack of filter is going to get you in trouble.”

Marta catches the pillow and throws it straight back at me. “Tell me that wasn’t the exact reaction you were going for and I’ll apologise for my lack of filter.”

Rolling my eyes because there’s no way I can argue the point without lying, I move to my dresser. Grabbing the little clutch that goes with this dress from the long drawer, I start packing the essentials I’ll need for the evening. Lip gloss, a tiny spritzer bottle of perfume, and two condoms. I know that I’m being presumptuous by bringing my own birth control, however I’m willing to throw my normal rules out the window for Felix. His smile does things to my body that should be illegal and I’m ready to find out the heights of pleasure he can take me to when we go all the way.

The intercom sounds, signalling Felix’s arrival downstairs. Butterflies invade my stomach with a nauseating level of quivering. Bullets of sweat threaten to ruin my makeup and I feel unsteady on my feet. It’s only dinner at a fundraiser, yet it feels like I’m expecting a marriage proposal instead.

“Wait here,” Marta says. “I’ll let him in. It’ll buy you some time to compose yourself.”

“Thanks,” I croak.

“Just get yourself laid already. This dying swan act is getting old, you frigid bitch.” She throws one of her trademark insults over her shoulder as she heads for the front door and I instantly feel better. At least one thing in my life is still normal.

“Leave your coat on,” I hear Marta direct Felix. “She’ll be out in a minute.”

She closes my bedroom door behind her once she’s re-entered the room. I brace myself for a smartassed comment, but she leaves me hanging. Instead, she paces in front of me. Back and forth she goes until she suddenly stops.

“Look, I said some hardcore jaded shit to you the other night.” I incline my head in agreement. “But, I think I might’ve been wrong. Felix is in the front room looking like he’s trying not to puke while you’re hiding back here just as sick with anticipation. This thing you have might be real. It also might be complete shit too.”

“I’m confused,” I interrupt her rambling in an attempt to lead her back to the point she’s trying to make. I don’t have time to waste on riddles. 

Marta closes her eyes. I watch her lips moving like she’s giving herself a silent pep talk. When she reopens her eyes, I find earnest concern in her expression. It sets my teeth on edge and sends warning bells ringing in my head.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’ve changed my opinion of Felix.” Marta lets out a sigh from between her clenched teeth. “I want you to forget everything I said about fairy tales, princes, and poison and just be you—the eternal optimist who is waiting for her knight in shining armour. If the green gills on the man in our living room is a true indication of his intentions, your prince has arrived, Ida.”

My eyebrows rise, unheeded. They’re almost touching my fringe. That’s how much her admission surprises me. At just twenty-seven, Marta is as set in her beliefs as a crotchety, eighty-year-old man so any backpedalling she does needs to be listened to. Not only because it’s as rare as hen’s teeth, but because she’s as serious as a heart attack when she does it.

“So, what you’re saying is?” I venture lightly, seeking clarification.

“I was wrong.” Marta grabs my clutch and the sequinned bolero that I plan to throw over my shoulders as a shield from the cold night, then spins on her heel and heads for the bedroom door. “Jesus, you don’t need to revel in it. It’s been known to happen once or twice.”

Silently laughing, I follow her into the living room, smoothing down the front of my dress as I go. Felix stands quickly when he sees us. His dark eyes widen, and he drops into a low bow before I can say anything. Unsure what to do in return, I try to affect my best curtsey. Marta snorts at our behaviour. She lays my things down on the back of the armchair and heads for the kitchen without another word.

“Is she okay?” Felix asks.

I shrug. “She’s wrestling with herself. It’ll pass.”

It seems that it’s my turn to be cryptic about things, and it doesn’t sit well with Felix. He stares at me with questioning eyes that I choose to ignore. I’d feel bad, but the memory of how I felt when he and Lydia were discussing their issues in riddles right in front of me, hasn’t faded enough for me to willingly break girl code and fill him in on one of Marta’s many quirks.

“Shall we?” I gesture to the front door as I pose the question.

Felix places my bolero over my shoulders and hands me my clutch. I wait for him to pull the door open and when he doesn’t it, I check to see what’s delaying him. He’s looking around the living room like he’s searching for something.

“Have you lost something?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “I’m looking for your coat. It’s cold out and that flimsy thing won’t keep you warm.”

With a sharp look at my bolero, he sums up his feelings about my idea of winter warmth. He might have a point, except I’m a woman and we’re known for putting fashion over comfort.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a quick walk from the front door to the taxi and then into the restaurant.”

My assurances aren’t good enough for him. He takes his heavy overcoat off and holds it out for me. I turn my back to him and let him help me slide my arms inside. The soft cashmere engulfs me, making me feel small and precious. His unique scent—sandalwood, musk, and male—sends the butterflies that had died down in my tummy back into full flight. The nervousness that had invaded me with his arrival disappears and my excitement at what the night might bring returns in full.

I’m ready to explore this thing with Felix. Right bloody now.

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” I murmur. “I hope you won’t be too cold.”

The smouldering look that covers Felix’s face incinerates the butterflies and sparks the intense attraction that is always present between us. I do my best to tamp it down, but Felix is no help.

“Keeping my eyes on you will provide all the warmth I need.” Taking hold of my hand, he leads me to the elevator that will take us to the ground floor. “You look smoking hot in that dress. I’m afraid I’m going to spontaneously combust from standing too close to you.”

The open way that he speaks to me leaves me speechless. My face begins to heat so I duck my head and let him draw me out of the elevator when the doors ping open. We leave my building and I expect to be led toward a yellow taxi. Instead he signals for a driver to open the door of a stretch limo and helps me seat myself inside.

“This is a surprise,” I say. The limo is luxuriously appointed, complete with crushed velvet upholstery, oak panelling, and an assortment of expensive alcohol. “A cab would have sufficed.”

Felix laughs. The sound is music to my ears, although I do detect a note of awkwardness in its melody. “Ida, I’m sure you’ve realised that my life isn’t exactly normal. Limousines, fancy restaurants, and Black Pearl Cognac is just the beginning. I have a lot more planned to spoil you.”

Most girls would jump at his seductive promise. Not me. It reminds me of all the things I left Georgia to escape. My skin itches, almost like an allergic reaction to the extravagance he thinks I’ll enjoy, while my feet burn with the desire to leap from this limo and join the real world with its yellow cabs and subway trains.

“Did I say something wrong?” Felix breaks the silence that’s fallen around us.

I scramble through my jumbled thoughts in search of an appropriate answer. One which isn’t going to sound like judgement or offend him. My issues are my own—most people revel in their wealth without becoming overwhelmed by the house of cards that props it up.

“Ah, no. Of course not.” I plaster a smile on my face. “I’m just nervous about dinner.”

Felix runs his thumb over the back of my hand. “Me, too. Although, dinner is the easy part. I’m more worried about how we’re going to handle dessert.”

He lifts my hair from my shoulder and nips at my neck with his teeth. A shiver runs the length of my spine, increasing to a visible tremor when he retraces the path with his tongue. I twist toward him, pinning him to the seat and hiking my dress up so I can straddle his lap. Nibble fingers undo the buttons on his shirt and I push it as far off his shoulders as I can manage. Using my fingernails, I explore the even ridges of his muscled stomach and hard chest, then take his bottom lip between my teeth and bite down with a sharp-edged gentleness.

Need for Felix pulses through my veins. It heats my blood and burns my skin. I’ve never felt like this before—as cliched as that sounds—and I’m scared that giving into my desire will rob me of my ability to continue with my empty life once Felix has had his fill.

My worries douse my passion like a bucket of ice water thrown over a fire. I pull my mouth from his, and stare down at him. Our chests heave in unison, our hands trembling where they touch, our expressions filled with a matching hunger. We didn’t know the other existed less than sixty hours ago, yet I can see in Felix’s gaze the same thoughts that I’m having.

This thing between us is either going to be for life or it’s going to flame because we can’t maintain the oxygen required to sustain our burning attraction.

  “How about we skip dinner and head back to my penthouse?” Felix gives life to the question we’ve been dodging.

“Yes,” I reply. The answer is on the tip of my tongue and out my mouth in an instant. I don’t want to think about the pros and cons of this choice. For once, my heart is taking charge.

I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow.