An Acute Attraction (8 page)

           Pushing my shoulders back I walk tall over to them, ok I still only come up to Marc’s chest but hey! I feel six foot tall and ready to butt in on the situation.
Please don’t trip, please don’t trip, please don’t trip!
Once I’m about 10ft away when Marc sees me approaching, so stepping aside out of the grip of “Crop Cut Barbie”, he flashes me the most heart stopping smile. 

           “Hey, I see you managed to get something in the end.” 

             As I get to his side he leans in to kiss my cheek. I look up at “CCB” as he does so and see the award winning teeth disappear under….
.are those real?
She scowls at me when my eyes finally move from the silicone like pieces that are her lips. 

           “Erm! Yes, yes I did. Your motivational phone correspondence at lunch time helped so thank you.”

            Lifting his eyebrow in response he answers, “You’re most welcome, I am glad I could help.”

            The look in his eyes is telling me more than the words he says, which then makes me blush ever so slightly. After a momentary pause, Marc introduces me to the woman before us.

           “Isabel, this is Dr Emiliana Acerbi. She is a fellow at the University of Bologna in Italy and a Professor of Biological science.”

            Stretching out a petite, steady hand; she forces a smile, “I’m happy to meet you Isabel. Please call me Emelie.” 

           Her Italian accent is full and strong, which runs thickly through my blood. Not wanting to show how she has unnerved me somewhat, I shake her cold hand.

          “It’s nice to meet you too.” I wasn’t going to offer that she should call me Izzy, as I didn’t feel that we would become friends in the slightest. Despite those feelings, I will be friendly to her for Marc’s sake. I suspect Marc must sense the tense atmosphere, as he promptly puts an end to the introductions. 

         “Well we had better get back to the hotel. We only have a couple of hours or so before we have to return for this evening’s festivities.” 

           Emelie searches for her own car keys. “It was good to meet you Isabel; I might see you again soon. I shall hopefully see you later tonight Marc.” I hear the anticipation in her voice.

          “You will see the both of us later Emelie.”
Ouch!
And here I was thinking that it was only a woman’s tongue that cuts deep! I inwardly cheer Marc, Go you! First set to Mr Sanders!

           On the drive back I don’t even entertain to ask Marc any questions about Dr Acerbi. As much as I would like the gossip on the woman, I don’t want to taint the mood for this evening. I do however ask how his presentation went.

          “It went extremely well. They were very interested in the results, so it’s looking good. I reckon we’ve done enough to work in partnership with the research team here.”

             I am really chuffed for him. I can feel the pride emanating from Marc, and so it should. Over 2years of research presented in one hour!!

            Arriving back at the hotel Marc offers to carry my shopping bags in for me. I am extremely grateful for the offer, but I really don’t want him getting even a brief glance of what is in the bags, so I politely decline his offer and take them up myself. I have butterflies in my stomach as I prepare to get ready in my room; I don’t want to let either Marc or myself down tonight. I can hear his words now even though he’s not in the room, saying how I could never let him down. I still doubt myself, am I really ready or capable of socialising with people who have a far grander background than me? I am trying my best to dispel the insecurities that are seeping to the surface, but all I can see is me being looked down up on or not being able to take part in any of their intellectual conversations. Stop over thinking it Chambers, you always do this!

            I’ve not long stepped out of the shower and wrapped my robe around me, when there is a knock on the door. I check out the time on the clock; still having an hour before we leave it can’t be Marc. Hesitantly I open the door to see the young lad from the hotel reception, standing with a large flat box in his arms.

          “Sorry to disturb you Miss Chambers, but a parcel has just been delivered for you and we were instructed to bring it up as soon as it got here.” Simon is the name on his badge, looks as baffled as I do. They mustn’t get many requests like this one.

            Taking the black shimmering box off of him, I thank him before closing the door with my foot. Placing it on the bed, I proceed to undo the cream satin ribbon that is tied neatly around it. Lifting the lid and removing the top layer of tissue paper I am taken aback by its contents. Picking up the first garment I see that it’s a satin black, boned, under wire strapless Basque. The front consists of a lace panel, diamante charm on the cleavage and delicate red stripes. My arms start to hurt as I continue to hold it aloft, staring at the beauty of the material. Gently putting it to one side I reach for the next couple of pieces of lingerie; a pair of black French knickers, garter and sheer stockings. I find that my hands are trembling as I clutch on to them. This is me Isabel Chambers, virgin to any such clothing!
Bloody Hell!! I don’t even know what attaches to where.
After a few silent minutes contemplating what to do next I spot a small card resting in the box.

“O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet!
How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs?
I only ask to sit beside thy feet.
Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.
Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold
My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak.
And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,
As with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek.
Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control
Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat
The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,
The bare word "kiss" hath made my inner soul
To tremble like a lute string, ere the note
Hath melted in the silence that it broke.”

            The poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson is written in such grandiose handwriting and signed by Marc. My heart literally jumps into my throat, which then stings as I fight back tears. The tenderness and sentiment behind the words, forces me to look at my reflection in the wall mirror. Lightly touching my cheek, I close my eyes. What is it he sees that I don’t? If its confidence and belief in myself, well then I do believe it is ever so slowly starting to re-surface above my skin. This is the second time today that Marc has re-ignited my positive outlook of me and life.

            Carefully stepping into my wine coloured heeled pumps I am finally ready.  Taking a deep breath I smooth down my tape work black and ruby dress, check my make-up and straightened hair one last time.
Here goes nothing, no turning back now Chambers!
Hearing the dull knock on the door I pick up my matching clutch bag and stilt walk to open the door.
Oh my heavenly dinner suit Gods!!
You really don’t want to know the curse words going through my head right now, the air would turn blue. The fact I am singing them in Soprano as well, it would be enough to set off a pack of wolves! Leaning casually against the door frame with one hand in his trouser pocket is Mr Marc Sanders. My eyes involuntary travel up the fine specimen in front of me. His well styled facial hair emphisises his high defined cheek bones. Marc holds out his other hand in invitation for me, softly kisses the top of my palm, looking me up and down.

           “Well check you out Miss Chambers, you look sensational. I have to agree with your choice of clothing and shoes this evening.”  Marc leans forward to whisper in my ear, “Red is my favourite colour.” He is beaming as he says this, yes beaming.

              Oh my freaking gawd, I’m going to turn all Stacey Soloman I know I am.
Youtube her, she’s a shrill Essex girl that somehow made it big on TV in the UK!!
Giving myself a mental talking to, I manage to actually say something at least half articulate.

              “I am glad you approve Mr Sanders and now I know that piece of information about you, I may use it more in the future. And may I say, you don’t look too bad yourself Sir. However, I reckon I will have to act as bodyguard to you tonight, protect you from the hoards of women that will be there this evening. So I may have to throw myself at you at some point during the night, for your own safety and wellbeing of course.”

               I attempt desperately to keep my face straight, but can’t for long as I start to get face ache! I wink at him and he throws an arm across the back of my shoulders leading me down the corridor. I wrap my arm around his waist and it takes all of my effort not to place my hand on his solid buttock.

              “You can throw yourself at me anytime Miss Chambers.” Oh bother it; I give his bum a squeeze.

                I had not given it much thought as to how we were going to get to the venue, but I expect that Marc would like a drink so won’t be driving us there. I am about to ask him when I see a car turn on to the car park and pull up in front of us.
Holy cow!
The chauffeur walks to our side of the vehicle and holds open the door to the Bentley GT.

              “Did you arrange this?” I ask him in astonishment

              “I would like to say yes, but no. The University organised for us to be taken there and in some style by the looks of it, they have wonderful taste I must say,” he says with a ‘boys and his toys’ kind of grin on his face, I am half expecting him to start stroking the bonnet like a well loved family pet.

                Marc presses his hand to the small of my back as I slide onto the cream leather back seat. Once Marc has climbed in after me, he takes my hand and links our fingers together and his sensuous eyes take all of me in.

               “You really do look beautiful. You did choose well, I shall have to keep you close to my side I reckon.”

                 I squeeze his hand in response. “I think I have a couple of Thank you’s to make. Firstly for the amazing lingerie, I have never even been into a shop for anything so luscious. How…or why did you buy them?”

                 Never taking his emerald green eyes off mine he answers, “I knew you wouldn’t think of buying it for yourself. You have never had a reason to in the past and your previous partner didn’t see past his own nose to realise how amazing you would feel, and look in them. I wanted this to be my gift to you for this evening.”

                 That last statement doesn’t go past me and I take every word of it in.
Jeez, here I go with the bloomin’ lip biting.
Marc chuckles a little. I swiftly change the subject…

                “I also have to thank you for the lovely Tennyson poem. You certainly have a way with words, so thank you again.” I don’t let on that I used google to find out which poet had written it, so shh!

               “No worries, I thought they were beautiful words that would reflect a beautiful woman.” He tenderly caresses his thumb across the back of my hand, sending a shockwave of affection through my body. This is madness!!
                                              

                For the rest of the journey Marc is informs me on the history of Christ’s College, it truly is fascinating and I am engrossed in every word he is saying. He tells me all about how Charles Darwin had studied there as a young man and now the college are celebrating this incredible man’s life. We will see the fairly recently unveiled sculpture that has a permanent placement in the grounds, along with the Darwin Garden. I am getting quite excited about this evening now.

              With the easy flow of conversation, the journey went quickly and I hadn’t noticed that we had arrived outside the main gates to the college. Marc helps me out of the car and I then take a moment to take in the wonderfully ornate gate and walls that we’re about to enter. However, it is not until we’re shown into The Hall that the grandeur of the place is really shown off to us.

             “Wow!!” I gape, open mouthed at the most spectacular room I have ever been into. Think Harry Potter and you are almost there. There are four long tables positioned in the room; three of them parallel to one another, while there is a top table stretched in front of a large oak panelled wall. Every one of the tables has pristine white table cloths draped over them and standing majestically on the top are gold candelabra’s with candles flickering away.  The cutlery has been placed so neat and precise, that I am sure they actually had a poor waiter checking that were laid out inch perfect. Looking around, I gaze up at the artistically presented stained glass windows and down to the chequer board like flooring. If there aren’t enough seats to go around, the floor would sure be clean enough to eat off believe me. Goodness knows how long I had been gawking at it all for, but Marc has to pull me to one side so as to allow a train of people through the door way.

              “I am guessing you like the place then!” Marc correctly points out the obvious.

                I very nearly come out with a “No shit Sherlock!” but decide against it, especially with the company we’re in. Speaking of company, I spy Dr Dread mingling across the other side of the room wearing a long black mermaid style dress. I could really do with not seeing much of the Doctor tonight, so in order to avoid her I ask Marc if we can get a drink from the other room. She does actually look good in the dress and seems to be getting plenty of attention, but if I can avoid her bumping into us I’ll be happy.

               Passing me a glass of sparkling wine, Marc then introduces me to a few other guests who he has been working along side. First I am introduced to Dr Andrew Drayton, Fellow and Director of Biological Studies; why I suddenly feel the need to curtsy I don’t know; it takes some to stop myself from doing it though. The remaining people are a mixture close associates and new found colleagues.

              It is only a short time before a gong is heard to announce that dinner is ready to be served. So filtering into the hall is a slow process with the bustling crowd of people.

            “Good evening Marc, Isabel, it’s good to see you again.” I have no need to seek out the voice as I already know who and where they are. Never the less I put my best show stopping smile on as I glimpse to the side, all Marc does is nod his head in acknowledgement.

            “Good evening Dr Acerbi, same to you.” That’s all the reply I am willing to give her as I assuredly don’t want to get into any more of a conversation than that. Unfortunately for me she has other ideas.

            “Please call me Emelie like I said earlier, any friend of Marc’s is a friend of mine.”

             Over my dead body!
“Ok, thank you Emelie.” I congratulate myself on a job well done in the politeness department, especially as it hurt so much!

            The line of people parading towards the doorway comes to a halt while waiting for others to take to their seats. I am aware of the uneasy atmosphere growing thicker between the three of us, when Emelie’s voice cuts right through it.

            “I must speak to you after dinner Marc, I am sure Isabel won’t mind if I steal you for a few minutes.” The effort she put into making the sentence appear light hearted and polite, doesn’t quite pay off.

             “I am sure Isabel wouldn’t mind Emelie, but I most certainly would.” Marks voice sounds deeply serious. There is undeniably no love lost from Marc’s side of the fence, but still Emelie perseveres.

             “Oh I think you will find what I have to tell you, is of extreme importance; I would rather not leave it any longer than it needs and I think you will agree to talk about it in public would be highly unprofessional.”

              I get the impression that some business affairs need to be sorted between these two, so I butt in and touch Marc’s arm for added reassurance.

            “You go ahead Marc and I’ll take a wander around the garden after dinner. They will only be clearing the hall in preparation for the dance and so you can find me when you’re done, I’ll be fine honestly.”

              The hard look on Marc’s face doesn’t change for a moment and then sighing he smiles down at me.

            “Ok, but it won’t take long I promise.”

               Dinner passes by without any hitches and I will admit I have really enjoyed the conversation with both Marc who sits on one side of me, and a lady named Catherine on the other. It flowed easily and I felt I was able to participate in all of it. My perception of these formal events has certainly changed, but I feel slightly worn out from putting myself through the worry.

               We are just sipping on our wine when Marc leans in to me. I can feel his warm breath sweeping across the side of my neck; it feels like a hundred butterflies have just flown past me and they leave a wake of spirited air.

              “Are you sure you’ll be Ok on your own for a short while?”

                I turn to look at him and we are in such a close proximity that our lips are nearly touching. I have an urgent desire to kiss him, I don’t care who sees us I just want to taste the saltiness of his lips. I get an inkling of Marc’s thoughts as his eyes gaze down to my mouth. I'm longing to tell him that I won’t be Ok and crave to be in his arms. However that would be selfish of me and in any case, we will hopefully have time for that later.

               “Yes, you go. As I say, I’ll go and walk around the garden so I won’t be too far away. When you’re done I’ll be there.”

                Without a care in the world Marc kisses me full on the lips, causing an automatic reaction; I close my eyes and savour him. The seconds we’re connected seem to drag on forever, so when he moves away my lips feel bare. Standing he pulls my chair out and takes my hand and walk in the direction of the garden, stopping just short of the large oak door.

               “I promise you I won’t be long and, I will come and find you once I am done with whatever it is Emelie wants to discuss. Then I hope you are ready to dance the night away Miss Chambers.” He spins me under his arm and embraces me.

                Giving me a final kiss on the lips, I watch him return to the hall, pulling on the cuffs of his shirt as he does. I giggle to myself and then venture on outside.

             Sometime later I am sitting on a bench outside, having watched the sun go down behind one of the college buildings when Marc comes marching across the stone pathway. I don’t recognise the look in his eyes, it is one I haven’t seen before and once he reaches me he grabs a hold of one of my hands tugging me from the seat.

             “Isabel, I need you to come with me now.” The urgency in his voice is obvious, but why I have no idea.

              With no other words Marc hauls me double-quick time into the college and down a few corridors. I start to panic, not knowing what is happening. To some degree I am frightened.

             “Marc what are we doing? Where are we going? Please slow down.”

               It is not until we enter a room I don’t recognise, that Marc lets go of my hand to lock the heavy door. My heart is hammering away from the exertion of the walk and I hate to say it, for fear of what is to come. He turns and roughly draws me to him. Before I know it, his mouth clashes with mine; the ferocity in which he does it scares me. Pushing his hands roughly into my hair he tugs on the strands. He groans into my mouth in an animalistic manner, so I have to drop my bag to the floor to grab both of his upper arms and push him away. He’s strong, but swiftly realises what I am trying to do. Releasing me he turns away, leaning against the door with one hand, as he rakes his fingers through his thick hair with the other. Slowing his breathing he looks back at me.