the evening, like putting on your lipstick-although you might think about doing that
‘We’re not kissing like that again!’ My eyes went involuntarily to the sofas on the other side of the room. If we ended up on one of those we’d never get to the party.
‘Maybe not
‘It’s not going to feel normal tonight.’
‘No, but I can tell you that if you go to the party in that dress, looking thoroughly kissed, it won’t just be Jonathan I’ll be fighting off with a stick,’ Phin promised.
‘Go on, admit it,’ said Phin. ‘It’s a good plan, isn’t it?’
I eyed him dubiously. I couldn’t help remembering the last time we had kissed. I had got carried away then, and I didn’t want that to happen again. On the other hand, I didn’t want to admit to Phin that I was nervous about losing control. Somehow I had to pretend that it wasn’t that big a deal.
‘It might work,’ I conceded, and he grinned.
‘Come along, then-pucker up, cream puff,’ he said. ‘The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can get to the party.’
‘Oh, very well.’ I gave in. ‘If you really think it’ll help.’
Maybe it
So I stood very still and lifted my face for Phin’s kiss, pursing my lips and closing my eyes.
And willing myself not to respond.
Nothing happened at first, and, feeling foolish, I opened my eyes again in time to see him brush my hair gently back over my shoulders. Then very slowly, almost thoughtfully, he slid his hands up the sides of my throat to cup my face. His eyes never left mine, and I felt as if I were trapped in their blueness. My heart was slamming against my ribs.
My mouth felt dry, and I had moistened my lips before I realised what an inviting gesture it was.
Phin smiled. We were so close I could see every eyelash, every one of the tiny creases in his lips, the precise depth of the dent at the corner of his mouth, and I felt dizzy with the nearness of him.
By the time he lowered his head and touched his mouth to mine my blood was thumping with anticipation, and I couldn’t help the tiny gasp of relief that parted my lips beneath his.
I willed myself to stay still and unresponsive. All I had to do was stand there for a few seconds and it would be over. How difficult could it be?
You try it. That’s all I can say. Try not responding when a man with warm, strong hands twines his fingers in your hair and pulls you closer. When a man with warm, sure lips explores your mouth tantalisingly gently at first, then more insistently. When he smells wonderful and tastes better.
When every kiss pulls at a thread inside you, unravelling you faster and faster, until the world rocks and your bones melt and the only way to stay upright is to clutch at him and kiss him back.
‘That’s better,’ murmured Phin when he lifted his head at last.
I was flushed and trembling, but I was glad to see that his breathing wasn’t quite steady either.
‘There-it wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he added, sliding his hands reluctantly from my hair.
‘It was fine,’ I managed, hoping my legs were going to hold me up without him to hang on to. I was very glad there was a car waiting downstairs. It was going to take all I had to get to the lift, and I was in no shape to trek to the tube-even if my shoes had been up to it.
For reasons best known to the television company, the launch party for
The room was already crowded, but I caught a glimpse of Stephen Hodge, surrounded by groupies as always, wearing his trademark scowl. He had long hair that always looked as if it could do with a good wash, and he was very thin. There’s something unnatural about a thin chef, don’t you think? I suspected that Stephen Hodge never ate his own food and, having seen some of his more innovative recipes, I didn’t blame him.
‘Now, be nice,’ said Phin, seeing my lip curl.
‘That’s good, coming from you,’ I countered. ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right speech with you?’
He’d tried a scurrilous version on me earlier, which had been very funny but which was unlikely to go down well with either Hodge or Jonathan, who had been instrumental in setting up the sponsorship. I was hoping that he had a suitably bland alternative in his pocket somewhere, but with Phin you never knew.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got the toadying version right here,’ he said, patting his jacket. ‘Besides, you’re not in PA mode tonight. You’re my incredibly sexy girlfriend and don’t you forget it. Talking of which-’ he nudged me ‘-look who’s heading our way. Or rather don’t look. You’re supposed to be absorbed in me.’
I risked a swift glance anyway, and spotted Jonathan, pushing his way through the crowd towards us. He had Lori with him, looking tiny and delicate in a sophisticated ivory number. I immediately felt crass and garish in comparison, but it was too late to run away.
‘Remember-make him jealous,’ Phin murmured in my ear.
There was no way Jonathan would even notice me next to Lori, I thought, but I turned obediently and slid my arm around Phin’s waist, snuggling closer and smiling up at him as if I hadn’t noticed Jonathan at all.
Perhaps that kiss had worked after all. It felt oddly comfortable to be leaning against Phin’s hard, solid body-so much so, in fact, that when Jonathan’s voice spoke behind me I was genuinely startled.
‘I’m glad you’re here, Phin,’ Jonathan began. ‘I just wanted to check everything’s under control. We want to kick off with your speech, and then Stephen’s going to-’
He broke off as his gaze fell on me, and I gave him my most dazzling smile. ‘Summer!’
‘Hi, Jonathan,’ I said.
Gratifyingly, he looked pole-axed. ‘I didn’t recognise you,’ he said.
Beside him, Lori raised elegant brows. ‘Nor did I. That colour really suits you, Summer.’
‘Thank you,’ I said coolly. ‘You look great, too.’
Jonathan was still watching me with a stunned expression. Funny, I had dreamt of him looking at me just that way, but now that he was doing it I felt awkward and embarrassed.
‘You look amazing tonight,’ he said, and all I could think was that it wasn’t fair of him to be talking to me like that when Lori was standing right beside him.
‘Doesn’t she?’ Phin locked gazes with Jonathan in an unspoken challenge, and slid his hand possessively beneath my hair to rest it on the nape of my neck.
I could feel the warm weight of it-not pressing uncomfortably, but just there, a reassuring connection-and I had one of those weird out of body moments when you can look at yourself as if from the outside. I could see how easy we looked together, how right.
Jonathan and Lori had no reason not to believe that we were a real couple. They would look at us and assume that we were used to touching intimately, to understanding each other completely. To not knowing precisely where one finished and the other began, so that there was no more me, no more Phin, just an us.
The thought of an ‘us’ made the world tip a little. Abruptly I was back in my body, and desperately aware of Phin’s solid strength beneath my arm, of the tingling imprint of his palm on my neck.
There
True, it wasn’t much of a conversation. Some small talk about Stephen Hodge and his vile temper. I complimented Lori on her earrings, she mentioned my shoes, but all I could really think about was the way Phin was absently stroking my neck, his thumb caressing my skin.
Every graze of his fingertips stoked the sizzle deep inside me, and I was alarmingly aware that it could crackle into life at any time. If I wasn’t careful there would be a