- RACHEL

 

HIS ASSISTANT WAS CALLED Jess. She was about the same age as my Mom but much more friendly. I watched her laying the clothes out carefully on the bed. I was sure a huge mistake had been made. “Those aren’t for me, right?” I asked as I looked at the selection coming into view. “I can’t wear them, they’re far too glamorous.”

“Every single thing here is for you,” she replied, walking towards me with a dress over her arm. “Would you like to start with this one?”

I looked down at a gown that looked like it had come straight from an awards ceremony. It was shimmering silver with sequins sewn into the fabric. No, not sequins, jewels, actual diamonds that reflected the light streaming through the window, casting twisting and turning shadows on the walls around me. “It looks beautiful,” I said, taking it gently from her. “How can he afford all this though? It looks so expensive.”

“Greg spent the money you paid for the tour. He sees it as his responsibility that your vacation began so poorly.”

“But that’s not right. He can’t afford to do that. Tell him to take them back. I’ll wait for my case to get here.”

“These items have been paid for and I’m under strict instructions to make sure they fit before you leave this room wearing your choice. Here, take this bra, those shoes and panties and try them all on with that dress.”

“But I can’t take them.”

“You must. He’ll be offended if you don’t.”

She held the items out to me and slowly my hand reached towards them even as I fought with myself. I wanted to turn them down. It wasn’t right that he would spend the entire fee for the tour on buying me clothes. What would the tour company do when they found out? I didn’t want him getting fired over this. He must be spending more than their profit margin just on this dress.

But it was a beautiful outfit and Jess was insistent so I somehow found myself in the bathroom changing before I knew what was happening. I stepped back out a few minutes later, tottering on the heels. “Are you sure it isn’t a bit short?” I asked, tugging at the dress which was showing too much thigh to make me comfortable. “And a bit low cut too.”

“You look good,” she replied with a smile. “You’ve got boobs, you should show them off. I’m sure Greg will be impressed.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Greg? I’ve worked with him for a long time.”

“Really? What as like his personal shopper?”

“More a P.A, really.”

“He can afford one?”

“You’d be surprised what he can afford. Now you might want to try this skirt next with,” she ran her hands over the choices, “this top. It matches your eyes.”

I headed back into the bathroom and changed. As I zipped up the skirt, I looked at myself in the mirror. I had to admit it looked good but it wasn’t me. It would take someone with a lot more confidence to brazen out how low cut the top was, how high the skirt, the way it clung to my hips, revealing more leg than I ever had, even on beach vacations in a swimming costume. I felt very exposed.

Still, it would have been ungrateful to refuse what was being freely given to me. The feel of the fabric was softer than anything I was used to, the bra I was wearing fitted better than any I’d ever known. I ran my hands down the top, twisting my body from left to right, examining myself closely.

Would he like it? Jess had said he would. Why did I even care? I stopped dead, frowning into the mirror as a thought crossed my mind. I wanted him to like it. I wanted him to be impressed by it. I wanted him to like how I looked. More than that, I wanted him to be turned on by me and my outfit.

I knew he wouldn’t want me, not in that way. He was just being nice after I’d so stupidly run off onto the moors. It was a consolation kiss because he felt sorry for me. The boob touch? He was clearly gay. Not a flicker of attraction in his eyes when he so blatantly violated my personal space. That didn’t stop a little daydream running through my head. Him seeing me looking like this, unable to resist me, reaching up my skirt and…

“How are you getting on?” Jess called through the bathroom door.

“I love it,” I replied, stepping out and wincing as I expected her to tell me it was definitely too revealing. “Do you like it? Not too short?”

“You look beautiful,” she replied. “I think you should stick with that for today and my goodness, look at the time. Greg will be waiting for you downstairs. Don’t worry about this lot, I’ll get it down and into the car. Remember, you’ve got boobs, no harm in showing them off from time to time. If I had yours, I’d do it.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Really. Now go.”

I stepped out of the bedroom, instantly feeling nervous. Glancing down, I could see my cleavage. What would he think? Was it too much? I felt like my virginity was a badge stuck to my chest, written in capital letters. Not suited to this outfit added underneath. I took a step towards the stairs, the air on my bare leg. Not even tights to hide them. What would he think?

He was waiting in reception. Sitting facing the fire, he had a newspaper in his hands, reading the financial pages. “Exciting stuff?” I asked, nodding towards the paper.

He spun around and looked at me. “Wow,” he said, a smile spreading across his face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because that’s how I want you to look everyday. Now let’s get going. Ah, Jess, thanks.”

His PA was carrying a case downstairs. “All in here,” she said as I turned around. “I trust you approve of her choice?”

“I do.”

He led me out to the car. I caught a couple glancing at me as I climbed in, feeling their eyes on my legs. I fanned my face as I sat there, hating the fact I couldn’t stop blushing. Not that Greg seemed to care. He was already setting off, the case safely stowed in the trunk.

It took two hours to get to Dove Cottage. Greg spent the entire journey telling me everything he knew about Wordsworth. He was incredibly knowledgeable including giving his opinion on The Recluse. “Imagine what it would have been like if he’d finished it,” he said with a sigh as we curved around the side of a lake, the road hugging the shore. “Three times longer than Paradise Lost.”

“If there’s a heaven,” I replied, “that’s the question I’m going to ask him. How it ends.”

“Hopefully he’s had enough time to finish it up there.”

“How do you know so much about him?”

He glanced in the mirror at me. “Research, that’s all. We do the best for our clients.”

“Nah, I don’t buy it. You know too much for just research.”

“All right, I like his poetry. Just don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“What as the rough tough outdoors type?”

“Exactly.”

“What other secrets have you got?”

“That’s for you to find out. Now get ready because we’re here.”

He swung the car into a parking lot. It was directly opposite the lake, the shimmering blue water just visible through the trees. “This is Dove Cottage?” I asked, looking up at the whitewashed building in front of us. “I can’t believe I’m really here. Walking in the footsteps of Wordsworth. Do you think it looked like this when he was here?”

“Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind in the primal sympathy which having been must ever be.”

I felt something skip inside me when he said that. “One of my favourites,” I said with a smile, looking up at him as he walked towards the visitor centre. “Why aren’t they going in?” There were other cars in the parking lot but we were the only people approaching the site itself.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe they’re all done.”

Inside there was a woman behind the counter, her hair as white as the walls around her. “Welcome,” she said with a smile. “You must be Miss. Murphy.”

I glanced from her to Greg who shrugged as he said, “I booked the tickets in advance. She’s been expecting us.”

“Thank you for your generous additional donation,” the woman said, shaking Greg’s hand. “You have exclusive use of the site until closing.”

“Hang on,” I said, tapping Greg on the shoulder. “You booked the whole site just for me?”

He nodded. “Thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“But all those people outside, they want to see it too.”

“They can come back tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not having that. You go and tell them all right now they can come in.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m the client and I’m not having that. They probably feel how I did when I tried to get in the parsonage. I’d hate you forever if I knew you’d stopped me seeing somewhere I’d been dreaming of for years.”

“All right, all right,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just thought it would be nice.”

“And it will. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s nice to share?”

He headed outside leaving me alone with the woman behind the counter. “How much did he donate?” I asked her.

“Enough for us to restore the leak in the bedroom ceiling,” she replied. “He’s given quite a lot to this place over the years. One of the biggest Wordsworth fans in the country is Mr-”

The door swung open and Greg was back, heading a column of people. “As you wished,” he said, nodding towards me. “Now can we go in?”

I nodded back. “Thank you.”

The house was as good as I expected but the garden was something else entirely. It was stunningly beautiful with a perfect view of the lake over the road, the mountains in the distance inspiring me to want to write. “I could be a poet here,” I said, smiling as I sat on a bench in the top corner. “How about you?”

“I might manage a limerick or two,” he replied.

I was about to reply when something happened that took the words out of my mouth. His hand was on my knee.

I glanced down and there it was, his fingers softly stroking my skin, my skirt riding up a little.

He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking out at the lake as if his hand wasn’t part of him, was just doing its own thing. “What about the cottage?” he asked, his finger moving slightly higher. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” I replied, my voice strained. I tried to keep my breathing under control as his hand moved further up. There was no denying what he was doing.

I should have told him to stop, batted his hand away maybe. There were other people in the garden and they might look this way any moment.

But I did nothing. I just sat there, my legs uncrossed as he stroked his way higher, taking the breath out of my body. My heart thudded, my throat becoming dry as he continued to tease me. Was I wrong? Did he want me after all.

“They might see,” I said in a squeak as he eased my knees apart without looking down.

“Let them see,” he replied.

At the same moment as his hand slid up my thigh, he twisted in the seat and kissed me. It was better than last time.

The first kiss he’d planted on me when I was upset had been good. It had been better than good. It had been amazing.

It had only been to comfort me, that was what I told myself afterward. This time was different. His tongue plunged into my mouth, hungrily seeking, exploring, entwining with mine. His hand continued to stroke my thigh, getting high enough to brush my panties. Just as he did so, he stopped, getting to his feet.

“Ready to move on?”

I could barely breathe let alone answer. He was smiling down at me as if he knew what effect he was having on me. “What just happened?” I asked as he held out a hand towards me.

He lifted me to my feet before kissing me again. “It’s a romantic place. What kind of guide would I be if I didn’t help with the atmosphere?”

He led me slowly through the garden and I followed meekly. After what he’d just done I would have followed him straight into the lake without realising what was happening if he chose to do it. Butterflies deep inside me made me shudder and I barely knew where I was anymore. He’d kissed me. He’d touched me. The hand entwined with mine had just been on the edge of my panties. It was hard to believe.

I smiled as I climbed into the back of the car. I got the feeling this was going to be an even better vacation than I expected. All because of him.