.
would get me into her pants.
With that scheme in mind, I asked her, “Why don’t you write down your address and phone number? I will pick you up about seven, if that is acceptable?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a few errands to run if we are having ourselves a posh night out.” I gathered my books. I kissed her again, this time as an appetizer for our evening. “I’ll see you later.”
Making sure my credit cards and mobile were in my pocket, I went outside to make the call. I wanted to make reservations, with the intention of asking about the full-service dinner plan.
I had no problem making a reservation for that night. I supposed they weren’t very busy on Wednesdays. I actually did have a few errands to run, which included picking up a pair of shoes I had left to be reheeled.
As I walked toward the shoe shop, I still felt the remnants of a sting from her reaction when she realized I didn’t work in a stable for a living. I thought I had finally gotten past being poor and uneducated. So why did it bother me so damn much that she took me for a farmhand?
So he wanted posh. As I looked through my cupboard, I saw professional, I saw formal, I saw casual, but I didn’t see posh. I also didn’t see sexy. He had only ever seen me in jeans. Cripe’s sake, here I am hoping I gave him a hard-on and he has never even seen me in a dress!
Well, I had to find something in there. I didn’t have time to shop for a new dress. He would be here to pick me up in a couple of hours. I still had to have a shower and do my hair.
Then I saw the edge of a garment bag tucked way back in the corner. I pulled it out, laid it on the bed and unzipped it. I gently lifted out a calf-length, red chiffon cocktail dress, being careful not to snag it on the zipper of the bag. I had only worn this dress once, to a party last summer. I kept it, thinking I would wear it somewhere, sometime. It seemed the time had come.
As I got dressed I thought about how I had turned into a bit of a recluse over the last months, and a celibate one to boot. That’s when I thought to find my cervical cap, just in case.
I took one final look at myself in the mirror. I said to my reflection, “Well, this is a fine kettle of fish! What the bleeding devil have you done?” I answered my own question, “It’s a proper mess! I take riding lessons and fall for a gorgeous, horse-training professor who really rings my chimes. I’m a right one, all right!”
The wall clock read ten minutes until seven. Bugger it! Now I had time to work up a sweat before Ivan picked me up. Think cool thoughts, lemonade, ice cream, Ivan bending over to cut the twine, Ivan putting the saddle on Nutmeg. Oops, those weren’t cool thoughts! How could he be so good-looking and be an English professor?
The English professors I had at university, and I had more than a few, were usually short, balding and paunchy. Except for one, who did have the height, the hair and the looks, and also a reputation for being a queen extraordinaire.
Well, professor, I am ready for you tonight. I am not a dippy Judy, even though I’ve given you every reason to think I am. I am going to be calm, cool and chic. I glanced in the mirror again. Sweat beads glistened on my upper lip.
After showering, I shaved, clipped my whiskers and put on the best suit I brought with me. Even though they really didn’t need it, I buffed my shoes again.
I hoped to slip out without Steve noticing. If he thought I really wanted Pash, he would move in on her. We’d done that to each other for years. Don’t ask me why. Neither of us ever had a problem getting some action when we really wanted it.
We really got into it a few times over women, with my having bloodied his nose at least twice. He managed to knock the wind out of me on those occasions, once giving me a black eye. I had an edge on him physically and could take him. He knew it, but the crazy son of a bitch didn’t care.
Lately I didn’t tell him much about what I did. His sarcastic remarks about my love life didn’t sit well with me. I hoped to avoid this whole business with Pash. But as I came down the stairs, I heard a catcall from below. “Going somewhere, guv’nor?” he said, blocking my path at the bottom of the staircase.
“I have an appointment,” I said, hoping that would be the end of it. I should have known better.
He pushed up my sleeve. “Must be a posh one—cuff links and all.” His tone irritated me more than usual. “Wouldn’t happen to be with that red-haired bit of fluff, now, would it? I saw you yesterday making time with the little luv on that horse. You know my insurance doesn’t allow double riding anymore.”
“Sod off. She didn’t fall, now, did she, mate? I had hold of her, good and tight.” I knew if I didn’t cut him off, I would be late. I pushed him aside. “Bloody well don’t wait up for me.” With that, I headed for the car.
I heard him yell after me, “The horses aren’t the only ones getting their oats tonight!” I ignored the rotter as I double-checked to make sure I had condoms in my breast pocket. Then I started out to pick up Pash.
Chapter Four
Dabbing at my upper lip with a tissue, I managed to smudge my lipstick. I took a deep breath and fixed my makeup. Hoping Ivan would be on time, I sat next to my front window to watch for him, telling myself I also needed the air.
Unless he intended to drive all night, I had narrowed the possible restaurant choices to two. A fancy place with dinner and dancing meant either a private club on the edge of town, which necessitated a membership, or an inn about half an hour away.
I had never been to either place. I knew nothing about the private club, except that it catered to the upper social classes in town. Gwen had been to the inn and had raved about it. She told me she had the most romantic night of her life there. Just as I saw Ivan arrive, I remembered she had gone there with Steve. I smiled, knowing I had just narrowed my choices to one.
Pash’s place wasn’t hard to find, a nice little flat in the Shaftesbury. As I parked, I wondered if I had to come to the door, but she came right out when she saw my car. I still got out and opened the car door for her, taking her hand to help her inside. I noted a flush when I took her hand, which I found both endearing and promising.
She looked great, wearing a sexy, sleeveless red dress with a low neckline. I guessed the fabric to be genuine silk. The full skirt wrapped most provocatively around her legs when she walked, and the top clung to her breasts like a second skin.
Before I closed the car door, I saw her discreetly give me the once-over. After another quick look at her legs, I took to the road.
Determined to make some reasonable conversation during the drive, I asked Ivan how he knew Steve. Finally I began putting a few pieces together about him and how he could be a professor who works in a stable. Then he asked me, “How long have you lived here?”
“I moved here late last fall. I needed a quiet place to write, so I came back to Shaftesbury.”
“‘Back to?’ Did you live here before?”
“No, but my grandmother owned a dress shop at the corner of High Street and Angel Lane. That’s how I know Gwen. Her mother worked for Nana at the shop.”
“I remember your grandmother’s dress shop. It has been gone for several years now, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. My nana died about five years ago and my family sold the shop to a bakery.”
“What about your parents?”
“My parents live in London. My father is a playwright. He also works on the docks at the Port of London for extra money.” I looked at Ivan just as he glanced at me. My stomach fluttered with butterflies.
We had about half an hour’s drive ahead of us. I had made our reservations for eight o’clock. I needed a little cushion in case I made a wrong turn.
I handed