Love & Learn Read online

  He left the window, walking over to the desk. When he’d placed his Room service order and put the phone down again, he heard the bathroom door open.

  “Is there any music?” she asked. “It’s just that my phone …”

  He grabbed the remote and switched on the sound system, flicking through the available channels until he found a slow, seductive jazz tune. Then he walked over to one of the large leather armchairs and sat down. She found the light switch by the door and dimmed the ceiling lights a bit, but not too much. Good. He wanted to be able to see her properly.

  She started moving, a little hesitantly at first. He took a sip of his drink and felt the burn. The two drinks he’d had at the club hadn’t had any effect on him, but this one hit him like a 2x4 to the head. The brown liquid burned on its way down, and he felt the heat from the alcohol spread throughout his body. Slowly, slowly, he started to relax. He couldn’t remember when he’d last done that.

  She moved closer, and her dance moves seemed to become more fluent. Her eyes lost a bit of their edge, and her eyelids lowered a bit. She almost looked as if she was in a trance.

  She had changed into a prim buttoned-up blouse and a tight pencil skirt with black stockings and impossibly high-heeled shoes. He didn’t like it. As much as he’d hated the worn denim, she’d looked sexier in that. She danced across the floor toward him, but stopped at a safe distance, close enough that he could see everything in all its glory, but not close enough for him to reach her. The image of Peter grabbing her arm flashed before him, and he flinched. This wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like that; he was nothing like Peter. He did not regard women as sexual objects to be used for his own pleasure.

  But he did enjoy looking at her. Oh, he did. Her skin was smooth and completely free of tan lines, scars, or blemishes. If he’d seen a picture of her, he’d have thought that she was airbrushed and photoshopped. No one could be that perfect. And the way she moved. It did things to him. He couldn’t deny that. Thank goodness she wasn’t a hooker, because there was no way of telling what would have happened then.

  Now, he could just relax and enjoy the show. Nothing was going to happen between them. This was just a business transaction. And way more satisfying than a massage.

  8

  Lizzie

  He just sat there, staring at her as she danced. At first, she felt a bit stiff and awkward, but once she started to feel the music inside her, she could lose herself in the movements. This jazzy music was different from the stuff that she usually danced to. Slower. Not as sexy as her usual tunes, but more seductive somehow.

  She lost track of time, just moving through the room, moving to the music, as she took off her clothes, one garment at a time. The blouse had a million buttons, and it took forever to undo them all. He didn’t seem to mind. Then she danced around a bit more, before unzipping the skirt and easing it down over her hips with her back turned toward him, slightly bent forward. Most men got a kick out of that.

  The bra came off next. Might as well bring out the big guns early, since he’d paid so generously, and it was obvious that they were what he’d been after. Sure enough, as soon as the girls came out to play, it didn’t seem to matter what she did. His eyes stayed with them wherever she went. Like a cat, chasing the light from a flashlight.

  He didn’t move. Not an inch. Just sat there, taking the occasional sip of his drink, watching her, as she shed her stockings, the garter belt, and last and pretty much the least, the minimalistic thong. It was weird, in a way, that he showed no reactions, but not scary weird. Just unfamiliar.

  By the time there was a knock on the door, she was completely naked, dancing slowly in the middle of the floor. She froze and didn’t know what to do. He put his tumbler down and got up from the armchair, nodding toward a door on the other side of the room. “It’s just the food,” he said. “Go in there while I let them in.”

  She hurriedly grabbed her clothes that lay scattered across the floor and ran into the room, which turned out to be a spacious bedroom, closing the door behind her. She stood with her back against the door, her heart pounding, and listened while he opened the door. She could hear a stranger’s voice, and then his—low, calm, powerful. There was movement in the other room. Then she heard the voices again. And the door closing.

  He knocked on the door. She could feel the light knock against her naked back. “He’s gone,” he said. “You can come out now.”

  Still clutching her clothes and shoes, she opened the door, peering out into the living room. On a table over by the window, dinner for two had been laid out. She walked back out, pausing by the sofa. Something smelled delicious, and her stomach growled again. He stood in the middle of the floor and gestured with his arm toward the table.

  “Dinner is served.”

  “I’ll just go and get dressed,” she said and took a couple of steps toward the bathroom.

  “Please don’t,” he said, and there was something in his voice that she couldn’t name. He gestured toward the table again. “I can turn up the heat if you want, but … Please don’t get dressed.”

  She felt a bit silly, putting her clothes on a chair by the door and walking through that swanky room completely naked. But the way he looked at her put her at ease. He wasn’t ogling her, not drooling over her curves the way some men did. He just seemed to study her in a way that she imagined an artist might study someone if they wanted to paint their portrait. Letting his eyes wander over every inch of her skin, trace every curve. It would have been flattering if it hadn’t been so weird.

  She walked over to the table and sat down. He held her chair for her and pushed it in but didn’t touch her. Didn’t take advantage. Just walked over to the other side of the table and sat down opposite her.

  “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” he said, lifting lids of serving plates and bowls.

  Everything was right, and the scents that wafted toward her were intoxicating. There was some kind of soup in a silver terrine, a couple of different salads with herbs and cheeses, smoked salmon on a bed of grilled vegetables, and a couple of extravagant shrimp cocktails in high-stemmed crystal bowls. There was some kind of pasta that didn’t look anything like the noodles she ate most of the time, and an entire roasted chicken that smelled slightly lemony.

  It was more food than she’d ever seen at once, and she didn’t know what to try first. She’d never be able to eat all of this, but she was determined to at least taste all of it. She’d probably never get a chance to eat anything like this, ever again.

  He picked up a bottle of wine and held it above her glass, raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

  She really shouldn’t. She needed to keep a clear head when she was working. But her private show was over now, and that label looked like nothing she would ever be able to afford, so she nodded. She’d just have a few sips, with dinner. It would be fine. And then, he’d leave, and she could have another glass. While she was relaxing in the jacuzzi in the bathroom that was bigger than her entire apartment, thank you very much!

  This place, this whole experience was so unreal; she almost couldn’t enjoy it.

  But she did her best, and sampled all the courses that he had ordered, even though the French words he used to describe them meant nothing to her. It was all delicious. And she might have had more than just a few sips of the wine, and he might have topped up her glass once or maybe even twice.

  And he didn’t just stare at her breasts. He looked at them, sure, in an almost adoring way. But he spoke to her as well. Telling her about the food, and the wine and about his book tour, and all the cities that he would be visiting, about when he’d been there before. When he spoke, his poker face disappeared, and his hands moved energetically as he described experiences he’d had in Palermo, Helsinki, and Hong Kong. Lizzie had never been out of the country, and it all seemed so unreal. Like a movie. Or a fairytale.

  He was unreal. Henry. So handsome, so masculine. Well-traveled and experien
ced. Kind and polite. She’d never met anyone like him. Never experienced anything even remotely like this. Sure, she knew that New York was full of successful and wealthy men. She’d danced for some of them.

  But this was the first time she’d spoken to one of them. Looked one of them in the eye. Felt herself falling, falling deep into those brown, intelligent, soft, and gentle eyes. She’d been cold and miserable and wretched, and he’d given her food and company and a night she’d remember for the rest of her life. He’d treated her nicely. She couldn’t recall the last time that happened.

  In the end, he looked at his watch, a large proper watch, with hands and no notifications or step counter, and said that he must be going. “I’ve got an early flight.”

  And Lizzie must have been quite a bit drunker than she thought, because she heard herself say, “You know … You don’t have to leave.”

  9

  Henry

  Somewhere, a phone was bleeping. Henry couldn’t tell from where. It sounded far, far away. But the bleeping only became more and more insistent, and eventually, he had to open his eyes. The room was dark, but he could tell that it was light outside by the sheen around the edges of the heavy curtains.

  Not his curtains.

  Not his room.

  And … He looked around him. Definitely not his bed.

  The ridiculously oversized four-poster bed didn’t provoke the same disdain from him when he woke up this time around. And that might have something to do with the arm that lay slung across his stomach. He stared at it. It lay completely still, its smooth skin pale along the inside of the arm.

  He followed it up to the elbow, strong and bare, and then stared at the face that was turned toward him.

  Her mascara was even more streaked by now. It had been a long night. And those luscious lips … He couldn’t believe that he now knew exactly how they tasted.

  He knew exactly how she tasted.

  Oh, this was not how this had been supposed to turn out. Damn it, Henry, he cursed himself, shifting her arm gently off him and getting out of bed. Thankfully, she rolled over and kept on sleeping. That was a relief. He did not want to deal with her in broad daylight. Oh no. This should never have happened, and it had to end right now.

  He had to search a bit for his clothes, but in the end, he found his other shoe in the corner of the bathroom, where he’d kicked them off before getting in the tub with her. He couldn’t remember when he’d taken a bath with a woman before. But he would never forget that bath, that was for sure, even though he must have been a good deal more drunk than he’d thought.

  Otherwise, why would he have done all those things?

  He shuddered and checked his phone. Damn! He was late and was going to have to scramble to get to the airport on time. He wouldn’t even have time to go home and get his luggage. Damn and blast!

  He scrolled through his contacts and found the phone number of a neighbor.

  “Mrs. Hutchins? I’m sorry to call so early. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  The elderly woman at the other end of the line chuckled. “Oh, no, Henry, dear. Me and Archduke Ferdinand have already been outside for our morning constitutional. It’s a lovely day.”

  Henry couldn’t help but smile. His neighbor had been through her share of struggles in life, but was always, always, in a good mood. “That’s great,” he said. “Could I impose on you for a favor?”

  “Certainly, dear.”

  Henry looked around the room. “Er … My friend’s birthday party last night ran a bit longer than expected,” he lied, not wanting to shock his neighbor. “And I have a flight to Amsterdam in a little over an hour. There’s a car coming to pick me up in about fifteen minutes, and I need them to collect my luggage because I won’t have time to go home for it. My suitcase is packed and standing by the door. If you could just take it downstairs? The key to my apartment is in the usual place. You know, in the second flowerpot from the left, in the window at the end of the hall.”

  “I know where it is, dear. And don’t you worry about a thing. The Archduke and I will get your luggage sorted. And we will water your plants while you’re away.”

  “You are a gem, Mrs. Hutchins!” Henry said. And he meant it. He didn’t actually have any plants. Houseplants were too much of a commitment.

  He finished his call and glanced at the bed where the woman was still asleep. Oh, what an idiot he’d been. But he did feel great. Much better than after any massage he’d ever had.

  10

  Lizzie

  She had woken up a while ago but had kept her eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. She did not want to face him in broad daylight. Oh, what a stupid, stupid thing to do, Lizzie, she scolded herself. She knew better than this, of course she did. But she had been tired and hungry and drunk and lonely, and he had been … there. And he’d been kind, and so impressive, and he’d smelled nice, and he’d treated her so good, and …

  That was all this was. She had needed the money he’d offered her for the private show, and the food and the wine and the enormous bed and the sex … all of that was just … perks. Fringe benefits. Her job didn’t come with many benefits, but this night had made up for a lot of that.

  She expected to feel hungover, but actually, she felt great.

  She just didn’t want to talk to him, now, in broad daylight. See him dismissing her, and what had happened between them, as something that was beneath him. He had enjoyed himself; she had made sure of that. But honestly, she had enjoyed herself too. Twice, actually. Once in the hot tub, and once right here in this marvelous four-poster bed. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had come twice in one night. But that was surely it. The reason she felt so relaxed and mellow and … ready to take on the world.

  She heard him move around the suite, getting dressed. And then he made a phone call. His voice sounded so pleasant. Soft and deep, with the hint of a smile. He must be talking to someone he really liked. And it was hilarious that he kept a spare key to his apartment out in the hallway like that. That told her a lot about what kind of building he lived in. She had four locks on her apartment door, and she wasn’t going to leave any keys lying around anywhere in her neighborhood, ever. She sighed and rolled over on her back as she heard the door to the suite close behind him.

  Finally. Alone at last, and all that.

  She sat up and looked around the room. The thick curtains were still drawn, but it wasn’t completely dark. She padded out into the living room and found her kimono in her bag. Tying the silk belt around her waist, she walked over to the desk, found the number for Room service, and ordered breakfast. Check-out wasn’t for another four hours. Might as well make the most of this!

  Despite having money in her pocket, Lizzie took the subway back to her small apartment. The sun was out as she walked the two blocks back to the dingy building that had been her home for the past year, and she had a smile on her face as she ran up the front steps.

  That smile vanished when she entered the hallway and saw her landlord standing by the mailboxes, slipping an envelope into her slot. The envelope was red, and she knew what it contained. He had threatened to evict her if she didn’t pay her rent on time this month, after being late the last couple of months. But she had always come up with the money in the end, and now, she pulled herself up and strode over to the intimidating man.

  “I’ve got the rent money for you,” she said and tried to sound as if that wasn’t such a big deal. It was a huge relief. Finding an apartment that she could afford had been a struggle, and if she were evicted now, she would lose her deposit and not be able to get a new apartment anytime soon. She pulled the crisp bills from her pocket and held them out to him.

  The man just glared at her. He didn’t take the money. Just folded his hairy arms across his broad chest and shook his head.

  “Go on,” she said. “Take it. It’s all good.”

  He shook his head again. “No,” he said, and there was an indifference in his voice that worried her. �
�I have found a new tenant. You must pack up your things. I want you out of here today.”

  “A new tenant? But … you can’t. That’s my apartment. I’ve got the money for the rent right here!” She held up the money again, but the landlord made no sign of noticing it. “You can’t just throw me out like that. I have rights!”

  His bushy eyebrows pulled together across his crooked nose. “Rights? Sure, you got rights. But what are you going to do? Sue me? Take me to court? Go ahead.” He leaned forward and raised a threatening index finger to a point just beneath her nose. “You have been late with your rent for three months in a row. Every month I have to chase you to get my money. I don’t have to put up with that. There are plenty of people who would want your apartment. I want you out by three this afternoon. Just drop the key in the letterbox.” He tapped the metal box with a thick knuckle. “If you are not out of here by three fifteen, me and my brother will come up and throw you out. Then you can take me to court if you want. But you are not staying in my building for the six months it will take the case to come to trial.” He shook his head. “No way, missy! You are leaving here today, or I will throw you out myself.”

  She began to protest, but the man just walked past her and out the door. Lizzie just stood there, staring at the door as it slid to a close behind him.