Painted Faces (26 page)

I allow my eyes to flick to Dorotea for a moment. She's currently running her hands through her dishevelled hair in a effort to neaten it up.

“
Oh that would be wonderful,” Phil exclaims, his face instantly brightening. This is why I love cooking for people; it can magically transform a cranky person into a cheerful one.

Dorotea is looking a little sheepish. She hasn't yet said a word. I decide to put her out of her misery. “Will you have some breakfast too?” I ask her with a polite smile. I can't blame her for how she reacted last night. After all, Nicholas did sort of love her and leave her in the lurch.

A small smile forms on her lips as she replies softly, “Yes, thank you Freda.”

I turn and make my way back over to the kitchen to start on the food. Dorotea disappears into the bathroom to freshen herself up. Phil comes and sits by the counter to watch me cook.

“
Did you train professionally?” he asks as he takes in my movements.

“
As a chef you mean? Not exactly. I did a Culinary Arts degree.”

“
I thought so, you can really tell by way you work with the ingredients.”

I smile and continue cooking.

“
By the way, nothing happened between Nicholas and Dorotea last night after you left. He went to his bedroom in a bad mood and everyone else went home. Myself and herself stayed up and had a few more shots at the karaoke, as well as one too many glasses of wine before passing out on the sofa.”

“
Good to know,” I reply, as a small feeling of happiness rushes through me. Maybe - just maybe - I'm more special to Nicholas than all of the other women he's known. I hold on tight to this morsel of futile hope. “I bet you never expected to wake up with a woman wrapped around you this morning,” I tease him.

“
Definitely not,” Phil laughs, taking off Dorotea's blouse.

Dorotea comes out of the bathroom wearing her white blazer and joins us in the kitchen. She grins and hands Phil his shirt as he hands her the blouse. Then her expression becomes serious as she turns to address me. “Freda, can I please apologise for my behaviour at the party? I was drunk. I was out of line. I didn't mean to be so crazy, but that man, you know, he has a powerful affect on me. On most women I imagine.”

“
And men,” Phil puts in.

We both eye him.

“
What?” he exclaims. “I didn't mean
me
. He works at my club. I can't help noticing the way the customers look at him, now can I?”

“
I guess not,” I answer with a laugh before turning back to Dorotea. “Don't worry about it. All is forgiven.” I've never really been the kind of person to hold a grudge. All it takes is one “I'm sorry” and I'm putty in their hands.

I serve them their breakfast and then dish up some plates for Nicholas and myself.

Dorotea takes a bite and says, “You certainly know how to cook Freda.” She pauses and frowns as she studies me, then points her fork in the direction of Nicholas' bedroom door. “That one in there, he will break your heart. He only wants the first rush of lust, anything that comes after isn't exciting enough for him. You save your heart, don't ever give it to him. Find a nice man, a good man. One capable of accepting another's love.”

Her words give me a little shock of reality, because she's voicing the reservations that I've had all this time. “I'll keep that in mind,” I tell her, as I put the plates and cups on a tray and make my way into Nicholas' room. “It looks like his Lordship isn't going to grace us with his presence, so I'll have to bring the food to him.” I call behind me.

I use my elbow to push down the door handle and then shoulder my way inside the room. The sight of Nicholas' ruffled mane of black hair and bare chest, not to mention the blanket strewn across his nether regions hits me like a bomb to my long unattended libido.

He couldn't look any more appealing if he tried. I really shouldn't be carrying a tray of food right now, as it's in danger of crashing to the floor. Still, I maintain my grip and set it down on his bedside dresser.

“
Morning Sunshine,” I chirp. “Get your mouth ready for a taste sensation.” I walk across the room and pull his curtains open to allow some day light into the place.

“
Morning,” he replies with a dazzling smile. “That's a lovely t-shirt Fred.”

I glance down at the low cut navy top I have on. Hmm, I wonder why he think it's so lovely.

I smirk at him and hand him his breakfast, before sitting down on the edge of his bed. I'm very curious as to whether he has anything on beneath the blanket.

He takes a sip of the coffee and then looks down at the plate hungrily. “You're my little breakfast angel,” he exclaims. “What are you doing all the way over there? Come sit beside me.”

I slip off my shoes and crawl to the top of his bed. We eat side by side in companionable silence.

“
Did you sleep well?” I ask past a yawn, just as I set my empty plate back on the tray on the dresser.

“
Better than you did, clearly. You seem tired,” Nicholas replies, his eyes taking all of me in.

“
You continue to forget that you're not the only person I work for. I had to be up this morning to make my cupcakes.”

“
Aw, poor baby,” he purrs and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer to him. “Let's take a nap now, get you caught up on your sleep.”

He throws open the blanket and mercifully reveals himself to be wearing boxer shorts. He yanks me under with him and throws it back over us. Then he wraps his arms around my waist from behind and pulls me close to him. I want to feel the affection he's offering, just for this moment. I don't want to resist. So I don't.

“
Mr Turner, is that morning wood?” I ask, feeling a distinct hardness press up against me.

“
Shut up and deal with it, Fred,” he laughs and buries his face in my neck. “You always smell so clean,” he mumbles.

“
You smell like last night's whiskey,” I comment, while keeping to myself that he also smells faintly of aftershave and man.

“
You're cheeky,” he says and pinches my stomach.

“
Ow Viv, that hurt!”

“
I'm sorry, can I kiss it better?” He asks darkly.

“
You probably shouldn't. Dorotea and Phil are still out in your kitchen. I made them breakfast too, they spent the night on your couch.”

Nicholas gives me a confused look. “Now that's something you don't hear very often.”

“
I know. Dorotea apologised for her behaviour last night and everything. She also warned me not to trust you.”

I'm saying this mainly because I want him to tell me that he can be trusted. I want to be able to trust him.

He becomes still all of a sudden. “She did, did she? Do you think you can trust me Fred?”

“
I want to. I'm not sure if I should though.”

He remains silent then. I wait with bated breath for him to say something to prove Dorotea wrong, but he doesn't. He just runs his hand over my stomach and then up to cup my bra. It's infuriating. I twist around in his arms to face him.

“
Hey, can we just sleep?” I ask. I want to see if he can lie here with me and not try to turn it into sex.

He searches my eyes for a moment, and answers, “Sure, come here.”

I sink back into his embrace and he trails his fingers up and down my back, paying extra attention to the curve of my spine. I'm so exhausted and his touch feels soothing. Moments later I drift off.

When I wake up again Nicholas has his hands levelled on either side of my head and his torso is resting between my open thighs. My calf length skirt is pushed up around my hips. He's staring at me, had probably been staring at me while I slept! Is that supposed to be creepy or sexy? Perhaps a little bit of both.

He seems pensive.

“
What? Was I drooling?” I ask, trying to avoid the serious expression on his face.

His eyes drift across my lips. “No.”

“
What are you doing?” I whisper.

“
Watching you. I enjoy having you here.”

“
I'm sure you do. Just like you
enjoyed
having Dorotea here the other week.”

“
We fucked on the couch. She never got as far as the bedroom.”

I shift my hips to try and roll him off me, but he stays firmly in place.

“
Did you have to tell me that? I spent half of last night sitting on your couch.” I make my voice sound disgusted, but on the inside I'm secretly thrilled that she didn't get to sleep in his bed with him. Like I just did.
And
, I didn't even have to go as far as having sex with him.

He eyes me shrewdly. “It didn't mean anything with her, you know.”

My breath catches. “Oh.”

He sighs. “Losing myself in women I've just met, it's this habit that I can't seem to shake off.”

I don't know how to respond to him. In the end I make a joke, effectively ruining the serious moment. “I thought you said you
weren't
a sex addict.”

He smiles and keeps on looking at me, silently drinking me in. Then he grins broadly and shakes his head.

“
Shut up, Freda,” he says hoarsely, before taking my mouth in a hard kiss. I can feel it everywhere, zinging through me. He's pouring all of his unspoken feelings into this one kiss. I can tell. Perhaps I am too, as I match his enthusiasm by nipping at his bottom lip. I expect him to try and take things further, but he doesn't. He pulls away and smiles at me for nipping at him. “Naughty. I like it. Come shopping with me today.”