Take Me To Bed. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
on photos for a cookbook,” Timmy boasted, removing the champagne glasses and replacing them with white wine glasses. “I have a sauvignon blanc from Chili, 1992. It will go perfectly with the duck and was very reasonable.”
“Timmy haunts the local wine stores.”
“I found this one at Zachy’s actually. It was so well priced that I bought us a case,” Timmy said.
“Jessica?” Eric asked.
“If Timmy recommends it, how can I argue?”
Timmy beamed as he uncorked the wine and poured a small amount into Eric’s glass.
“Anyone can find a good fifty-dollar bottle of wine,” Timmy said. “I can find a good bottle of wine at under ten dollars. What do you think?”
Eric tasted and nodded. “Right as usual.”
Beaming, Timmy handed Eric the cork and half-filled each glass. “Keep the cork,” Eric said, handing it back to Timmy, “and you can recork the bottle before you leave. If we finish even half of this wine, I’ll never be able to drive home.”
As they ate, they made small talk. “Do you know why the host breaks the wine cork?” he asked.
Jessica took a sip of wine to moisten her dry mouth and tucked her legs underneath her. “I always wondered why the waiter hands it over, but I didn’t want to sound as unsophisticated as I felt so I never asked.”
“Most of these rituals are left over from the dim past when there was a real need for precautions. Now it’s mostly just snobbery and uptight people who like to make a simple glass of wine into a Japanese tea ceremony.” He reached out and Timmy handed Eric the cork which he in turn handed to Jessica, his fingers lingering on hers. “You’ll notice that the imprint of the winery is on the cork, with the year.” He laid the cork in Jessica’s palm, rubbing the rough surface along her skin. “In the olden days unscrupulous people used to fill an empty bottle with jug wine, then recork it and sell it as the expensive stuff. So, rather than break the expensive bottle so that wouldn’t happen, they broke the inexpensive cork.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She held the cork under her nose. “Why do they smell the cork?”
“Before wine was sterilized, pasteurized, and otherwise purified, occasionally bad yeasts would get into the vats and, instead of fine wine, you’d get fine vinegar. Actually the word vinegar is from the French, vin meaning wine and agre meaning sour. And if the wine was sour, you could smell it in the cork.” Eric smiled. “These days, wine is never sour and there’s no need to smell the cork. The only ones who sniff it are those who want everyone to think they know something.” He reached over and wrapped his long fingers around Jessica’s then slowly drew the cork from her hand.
As his fingers slid from her hand, Jessica’s breath caught. She gazed at the attractive man who sat across from her, then looked at her plate. She lifted a small forkful of the duck to her mouth and tasted it, unsure of whether she’d be able to swallow. To break the tension she was feeling, she said, “This is very unusual, Timmy. I really like it.”
“I’m so glad. I didn’t know anything about you or your taste in food, so it was difficult to plan the meal.”
“Well, Timmy, I’m easy. I enjoy tasting new things and I can’t imagine anything that you created that I wouldn’t like.”
Eric gazed into her eyes. “I’m glad you enjoy trying new things, Jessica.”
The food turned to cardboard in her mouth and she sipped her wine to moisten her lips. Although it was difficult for her to eat with Eric’s hot gaze on her, she couldn’t insult Timmy so she finished every bite along with two glasses of wine.
“I’m so glad the meal pleased you, Ms. Hanley,” Timmy said as he removed the plates and the wine glasses. “I have a triple-crème blue cheese and fruit for dessert. There’s coffee and I’ve taken the liberty of opening a 1971 Chateau D’Yquem. It will go superbly with the cheese and fruit. The pears are especially good.” Leaving the platter with the fruit and cheese, china mugs for coffee beside the filled carafe, the decanter, and new glasses for the sauterne, Timmy efficiently packed everything else in a hamper. “I’ll be leaving, now. I’ve left a small basket over there,” he pointed, then lifted the heavy hamper as though it weighed nothing. “Everything should fit quite nicely.”
“Timmy,” Eric said, stretching out on the blanket as people wandered through the gardens around them, “you’ve done a wonderful job, as usual.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said, “and it was so nice meeting you Ms. Hanley.”
“Thank you for the wonderful meal, Timmy,” Jessica said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had better.”
“Good night,” Timmy said and walked toward the exit with a surprisingly light step for such a big man.
Chapter
4
“Try the cheese with the sauterne,” Eric said. He cut off a bit of pear, spread a small amount of cheese on the morsel and held it in front of Jessica’s mouth. She ate from his fingers and he quickly handed her the wine. “Close your eyes and drink this so the tastes are in your mouth at the same time.”
When she had sipped the thick, deep yellow liquid, he asked, “What do you taste?”
“Cream and pear and…pineapples.” She opened her eyes, amazed.
He took a bite of pear and cheese, then sipped his own wine. “Pineapples. Wonderful. A few years ago, someone introduced me to the combination of sauterne and blue-veined cheese. There’s a strange synergy. The whole taste is so much more than the sum of its parts.” He spread another bit of cheese on another piece of fruit and offered it to Jessica.
She took it from him, placed it on her tongue, and sipped the sauterne. “It is wonderful, but if I have much more to drink, I’ll be incoherent.” She dropped onto her back on the soft blanket.
Eric took the glass from her hand. “I certainly don’t want you incoherent. I want you to be fully aware of everything that happens.”
“And what is going to happen?” Jessica asked, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Eric grinned and licked a tiny crumb of cheese from her lower lip. “Everything and nothing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Everything means that I’m going to spend the rest of the evening seducing you with wine and food, music and evening breezes and me.”
“And nothing?”
“Nothing means that as much as I want to, and, I hope, as much as you will want me to, I’m not going to make love to you tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to anticipate how wonderful it will be with us when I undress you and touch you and lick every inch of your skin. I want you to wonder how it will feel when I slide, ever so slowly, into your body and feel your hips reaching for me, unable to wait any longer.
“Then I want you to think about it in the cold, sober light of day. Sex for the sake of sex. Not love, just desire. Then you can decide whether that is truly what you want.”
Jessica sighed and closed her eyes. Her thighs were trembling and her heart was pounding. She did want him. Badly. She felt a tickling on her neck and reached up to brush it away. As her hand dropped she felt the tickling again. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Eric, his face close to hers, a blade of grass in his hand. “I know what I want right now,” she whispered, unable to stop the words.
“Maybe you do. But I know what we’re not going to do. It’s important to me that we don’t make love because of too much wine or too long since the last time.” He saw the disappointment on Jessica’s face. “Oh lord,” he said, smiling. “This is going to be a