Improper English (11 page)

I raced off the last step and grabbed my key from where I kept it above the lintel. Footsteps thundered behind me. His bare feet came into view for a minute; then he swore when he realized he was wearing nothing but a scrap of latex. “God damn it, Alix, I’m not done talking to you!”

“Goodbye, Alex. It was nice knowing you. I hope someday you find a woman who deserves you.”

He swore again and started down the steps, but I skipped inside my door and made sure he heard me close it. I half hoped he’d pound on the door, demanding that I let him in so he could apologize to me and ravish me on Stephanie’s daybed, but no sound penetrated the door.

The evening ended as so many have in the past—in tears and a good old-fashioned pity party. Without a doubt, I felt like the biggest loser on the planet, friendless, alone, and with the morals of an alley cat. I couldn’t believe I’d thrown myself at Alex like that. What had I
been thinking? I knew,
I knew
he wouldn’t be interested in a meaningless little fling, and yet, let me get within ten feet of the man and I forget everything except the lure of his seductive self. The really tragic thing was that he was completely different from anyone else I’d ever lusted after, and I doubted if anyone would ever come up to the standard he had set.

A couple of hours after I crawled into my cold, lonely bed, I admitted that he was probably the nicest man I’d ever met, and if circumstances were different, I could quite happily spend the rest of my life with him. But they weren’t, and I couldn’t, so I moped about the rotten tricks life had handed me until I was sick of my own company. That’s one reason why I had accepted the invitation the next day to visit with Bert and Ray—the other reason being that I was desperate for company, and couldn’t face the thought of having Isabella’s cool, knowing, former-Alex-lover eyes on me.

As I sat before the two women, I shook away the memories of the night before and looked up at their expectant faces.

“More wine?” Bert asked.

I had half a glass of chardonnay left. I downed it in one gulp and held my glass out for more.

“There’s not that much to tell,” I fibbed, and let the warmth of the libation spread throughout me, numbing all the sore parts of my heart and easing the sense of shame slightly. “Last night Alex kissed me.”

“Oho!” Ray said, rubbing her hands and leaning forward to pour me more wine. I dutifully took a few sips, breathing in its heady, sharp scent. It reminded me of something pleasant, something to do with Alex, something naughty…

“His balls!”

“Whose balls?”

I blushed at the look Bert was shooting my way and drained my glass, hoping either that I’d pass out from overindulgence of alcohol or it would wipe my memory clean of my ungoverned mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that the wine reminded me of something…”I let the words trail away. It was bad enough, I would only make it worse.

Ray sniffed her wineglass. “Don’t know what Black has been doing with his goolies, but I’ve never known any to smell like this.”

I accepted her offer of a refill, and felt it necessary to explain. “They don’t smell like this, not exactly, it’s just that the sharpness of the banquet reminds me of his noogies. Somewhat. Oh, hell, I’m looped already, I don’t know what I’m saying. Just ignore me.”

I grabbed a hunk of pita bread and dunked it into the tzatziki. Bert laughed as Ray grunted in approval of my enthusiastic praise of the food.

“Truly, Alix, you don’t have to say any more if you don’t wish to. We have no intention of prying into your private life. I just thought that since your family and friends were so far away, you might feel like confiding in someone neutral.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her kindness. Really, she was so sweet—both of them were. They had taken me into their home, listened to my story, fed me, tried to bolster my spirits with wine and a friendly shoulder to cry on, and all I did was natter on about Alex’s balls, as if they cared about them in the least.

“No, no, I’d be happy to tell you what happened,” I sniffled, and grabbing the box of tissues and a baconwrapped
shrimp, proceeded to tell them everything about my disastrous experience with Alex. There may have been some slight skewing of the basic events, but I was pretty sure I had covered all of the major points by the time we had killed two more bottles of wine, eaten all of the tzatziki, shrimp, and brie, and gone through countless tissues. I went through the tissues, that is—Bert and Ray seemed to be made of sterner stuff.

By the time I finished my sorry tale, I was lying on the floor with my feet resting on the seat of a chair (Ray swore it would stop my “everlasting grizzling” and she was right; it’s impossible to grizzle for any length of time when you’re lying on the floor with your feet in a chair), Bert was curled up on the couch, and Ray was pacing in circles around us, making periodic grunts of outrage or agreement as the situation warranted.

“So that’s it, that’s what happened,” I said, finishing my tale of woe and sitting up so I could dab at my damp eyes. “You can see now why there is no future for Alex and me. We’re just not comparable.”

“Communicable,” Ray said sternly as she held out her hand. I took it and let her hoist me to my none-too-steady feet. “You’re pissed.”

I frowned at her. “I am not! I’m not mad at all, it’s just the way my life always seems to go.”

“The word is
compatible,”
Bert corrected. “And you’re both a bit squiffy. Pissed means drunk, Alix.”

I nodded and grabbed onto the chair when the room gave a slight twirl to the left. “Oh, that’s right, I knew that. Pants and pissed. Rumping pumps. Got it all up here.” I tapped the side of my head and gave Bert a knowing wink. She blinked owlishly back at me.

“The hell you’re not comparable!” Ray suddenly
shouted, swaying gently before me as she poked her finger into my chest. “That rotter has no right treating you like that! Seducing you on the stairs, then dragging you off to his love nest, stripping you naked, then shoving you out the door before you’ve had a chance to get your jollies. Typical man thinking only of himself. It just isn’t right!”

I looked at Bert and grinned. “That’s the most words I’ve ever heard Ray say.”

Bert sighed, tried to frown, then giggled instead. “Oh, dear, I think I’m a bit squiffy as well.”

Ray stalked over to her and put her hands on her hips. “Why shouldn’t you be? That blighter upstairs has taken advantage of this innocent young girl, a young thing come recently to our fair isle, and tossed her out like yesterday’s used paper. We’ve got to do something about it, Bertrice. Fair makes my blood boil, it does!”

I sank bonelessly into the chair that suddenly materialized behind me and waved a languid hand. “I’m afraid, dear, sweet Ray, there is nothing you can do. The man simply doesn’t want me, not even when I bared all of my many and glorious charms for him.”

“Maybe he’s gay,” suggested Bert with a polite little burp. I shook my head and had to clutch the arm of the chair to keep from sliding out of it when the room lurched again.

“Nope. Not possible. My gaydar didn’t go off, and besides, a man who kisses women like he kissed me is not uninterested.” I had a hard time getting that last word out. It took me a couple of tries, but at last I succeeded and continued on, ignoring the snickers from the peanut gallery. “Besides, the stallion was waiting at the door, if you catch my drift. I don’t know what the problem was,
exactly. I think he told me, but I’ve forgotten.”

“Not getting away with it,” Ray stormed, and marched over to the door, stopping only to take a long swig out of an empty wine bottle. She belched, waved for us to follow her, and stalked out the door.

I looked at Bert. She looked at me, sighed, and rose in one graceful motion. It took me three tries to get my feet under me properly, but at last I was mobile, and I made it up the two flights of stairs by clutching the back of Bert’s blouse and holding on for dear life. By the time we reached the top of the stairs, Ray was pounding on Alex’s door and bellowing for him to come out and face her like a man.

“What the hell is going on out here?”

“Oops,” I said, peering around Bert’s back. “I think she woke him up. See what I mean about the stallion being ready at the door? And it’s a lovely stallion, too, isn’t it? I like men who sleep naked, don’t you?”

Alex, standing at his door stark naked, his hair tousled, obviously just arisen from his bed, must have felt the weight of three pairs of eyes dwelling on his rampant nether bits, because he suddenly looked down at himself, swore, and slammed the door shut in Ray’s face.

I released my hold on Bert’s blouse, slumped back against the wall, and let myself slide down to the floor.

“You see?” I asked. “He hates me. One sight of me and he takes his stallion back into the stable before I could even pet it. I ask you, is that the sign of a man who wants to get into my pants?”

“Never mind,” Bert said at the same time as Ray started pounding again on Alex’s door. She got two pounds in and was just delivering the third when he whipped the door open again.

Even dragged out of what was probably a sound sleep, the man had quick reflexes. He grabbed Ray’s fist just before it hit his chest, and looked all of us over. I was on the floor weeping softly to myself over the sad state of affairs, Ray was struggling to retrieve her hand, and Bert was swaying slightly and patting the top of my head while murmuring soft little platitudes.

“Would one of you care to tell me just what the hell you think you’re doing?” he asked.

I looked him up and down. “I liked you better without the bathrobe,” I said, sniffling.

“Christ, you’re pissed,” he said, narrowing those lovely green eyes at us. “You’re all pissed, aren’t you? Go back down to your beds and sleep it off.”

“Not till I’ve said a few things to you, Black,” Ray said, and pushed past him into his flat.

“Atta girl, Ray,” I bellowed after her. “Give ’im hell, Harry!”

“Harry who?” Bert asked.

“Dunno,” I said, waving the question away. “It’s an espresso I heard. Why don’t you ask Alex? He probably knows. He’s a smart man even if he doesn’t want me to ride his stallion.”

Bert nodded and turned to ask Alex, but before she could, he muttered an imprecation about women placed on the earth to drive him mad, grabbed Bert and pushed her into his flat, then marched out to loom over me in an intimidating manner.

“Hi,” I said, trying for a minxish smile.

“Would you like to explain why you and your friends are knocking me up at two in the morning?”

I giggled at the image of him being knocked up, and stroked the top of one of his bare feet. “You have nice
feet, Alex. You don’t have six toes or warts or any weird things people can get on their feet. I don’t, as a rule, like feet, but I like your feet. They’re handsome, manly sort of feet.”

He sighed again, then grabbed me under each armpit and hauled me up until I was standing.

“Carry me!” I demanded, throwing my arms around his neck and letting my legs go boneless. He swore again, put an arm under my knees, hoisted me up, and carried me into his flat in the best manner of romance heroes everywhere.

Bert was rustling around in his kitchen, singing a little song to herself about tea, while Ray was pacing back and forth in front of his couch.

“Alex,” I whispered into his ear. He stopped before a white chair and turned his head until we were nose to nose. I smiled as I admired his mesmerizing green eyes. “I think you’re in trouble with Ray.”

“Bloody hell, look at him!” Ray turned and caught sight of Alex holding me in his arms. “He’s at it again. This time in front of us. Man’s got no decency, trying to shag poor Alix right there in front of us.”

Bert turned to look while Alex tried to set me down in the chair. I decided he was more comfortable, especially since I discovered I could slip a hand in through the opening of his bathrobe and stroke his chest.

“Alix, stop that,” he growled as I closed my eyes and hummed my happiness over finding such a warm, lovely chest beneath that bathrobe. “Here’s the chair. Let go of me and I’ll put you in it.”

“You see?” Ray stormed, stalking over to Bert and waving her hands around wildly. “He’s giving her orders! Just like a man, always giving orders, always
telling us what to do. And he’s got his hands all over her!”

“It doesn’t look like he’s shagging her, Ray. He looks like he’s trying to set her down in the chair.”

“Thank God there’s one sober member of this goon squad,” Alex grumbled as he tried to peel me off him without dropping me.

“You smell wonderful,” I said, nuzzling his neck and giving him a few nibbles. “You smell sleepy and male and delicious. I like that. I like you. I like you a whole lot. Let’s go to bed.”

“Alix, please,” he started to say, but stopped when Ray stomped over to him and poked a finger in the part of his chest that I wasn’t covering.

“Look at him! Just look at him! He’s all over her! The randy little sod!”

“You’re a bad, bad man,” I pointed out as I teased my tongue around his ear. “Randying all over me like that when you don’t even like me.”

“Ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Ray said, and poked him in the chest again.

“Ashamed,” I agreed, nibbling gently along the outside of his ear.

A little tremor shook him; then his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “Christ Almighty—”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain won’t help you, either! If my father were alive, he’d horsewhip you for what you’ve done to that poor girl!”

Alex hitched me up a bit higher. “I haven’t done anything to her!”

“That’s just it,” Ray snapped, and turned on her heel to pace over to the window. “You should have.”

Tears pricked again at the memory of the tragic past evening. “Yes,” I sniffled wetly, and gave him a forlorn
little kiss on his jaw. “You should have, but instead you rejected me.”

“Alix…” He looked from Ray to Bert and back to me. “You’re all out of control, and none of you are making any sense. This is hardly the time to discuss what happened last night. If you still want to talk about it in the morning, I will be happy to explain it to you, but right now I’d like to go back to bed.”