Australian Affairs: Tempted. Amy Andrews

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СКАЧАТЬ tears at times, although not usually for an elderly lady who had died of natural causes. Elsie had been so lovely and Cate had been so glad to know her even for a little while. She blew her nose into a tissue and when the phone rang in her new office, Cate picked it up with a sniff and gave her name.

      ‘Are you crying because you regret not coming back to mine last night?’ She heard his deep voice and smiled into the phone.

      ‘Of course I am.’ Cate attempted sarcasm, although she was speaking a bit of the truth.

      ‘Or are you crying because you miss me?’

      ‘It’s just not the same here without you, Juan,’ Cate teased, and then told him the real reason for her tears. ‘Actually, I just found out that Elsie died in the night. I know she was old and everything…’

      ‘She was a complete delight,’ Juan said. ‘She had a wild side to her, you know…’

      ‘I heard about it!’ Cate smiled. ‘So, what can I do for you?’

      ‘Well, this morning I went on a culinary trip of the Mornington Peninsula. We caught our own fish and then when we got back we cleaned and prepared them and were taught how to cook them…’

      ‘That’s very tame for you.’

      ‘I can be tamed at times…’ He said it in a way that had Cate blushing. ‘So, I have some beautiful fish steaks that tonight I’m going to prepare with a chimichurri sauce, which I will serve with cucumber salad. I don’t have a deep fat fryer so I cannot do papas fritas…’

      ‘Sorry.’ Cate frowned, not just because she didn’t understand some of the words, more that she did not understand why he was reeling off a menu.

      ‘French fries,’ Juan translated.

      ‘Haven’t you heard of frozen chips?’

      ‘I don’t believe in them.’ Juan tutted and Cate found herself both frowning and smiling at his strange response.

      ‘So,’ Juan said. ‘Do we get to say goodbye, just the two of us? Will you join me tonight for dinner?’

      Cate thought of Bridgette and the nurse of the future. She thought of Elsie and her Frenchman and then thought of a life with too many regrets, and even though she had been teasing him before, yes, Cate would miss Juan when he had gone.

      It might as well be for a reason.

      ‘Fish and salad sounds lovely.’

      ‘Good.’

      ‘What time do you want me to get there?’

      ‘Whatever time suits you,’ Juan said. ‘I’ll see you when I’m looking at you.’

      Cate put down the phone. She couldn’t wait until he was looking at her!

      ‘No regrets, Elsie,’ Cate said to the room.

      She didn’t feel quite so brave at six p.m.

      What to wear when you knew it would be coming off?

      Yes, she could eat her fish, have a lovely conversation and then go home—he wasn’t going to be tying her to the bed, or maybe he was?

      Strange that Cate shivered just at the thought, when she had never thought of such things before. But what she had meant was that Juan wasn’t going to be forcing her.

      She was consenting to be bad.

      For the first time in her life.

      Cate put on the lilac skirt and it would have to be the black halterneck again, though she loathed the strapless bra that squashed into her breasts and made her look like she had four. Then she remembered, with a thrill low in her belly, how easily he had removed it and the exploration of his hands during their one kiss.

      Cate left it off.

      Hardly daring, as she didn’t have the biggest bust, but for sensible Cate it felt reckless.

      And it felt even more reckless when she took off her skirt and shaved in a place she rarely did, her fingers lingering on her mound as she thought of Juan and what was to come.

      ‘Me,’ Cate said with a shocked giggle, and then dried herself and put the lilac velvet panties on.

      She stopped for some wine on the way to Juan’s, asking for help to choose one that went well with fish. She took the suggestion of a nice refreshing white but, as she approached his house, Cate worried about bringing wine—if she did, would he assume she was staying?

      Was she staying?

      Of course!

      Cate had no idea what she was doing, even if Juan might think it easy for her. The thought of getting through the meal, knowing there was this big sexy slab of Argentinian for dessert, made her glow like the bush fires that were still raging.

      When she got to the bottom of the hill, she was just about to turn the car round and go home, but the thought that he might see her doing that forced her to push on. She was determined not to appear nervous, absolutely determined to enjoy her one wild night, and, taking a deep breath as she approached his home, Cate parked and climbed out.

      Juan opened the door before she knocked, took the wine and grinned, and she was relieved when he didn’t welcome her with a kiss, for she was almost petrified of touching him.

      ‘Did you go to the store on the corner of Beach Road?’ Juan asked.

      ‘Yes, why?’

      ‘He suggested this one to me, too. I am still not up on Australian wine.’ Juan led her through. He was wearing black jeans and a silver-grey shirt and there was his bottle already open. He was chopping up cucumbers, it would seem, and sexy music was on.

      ‘We put this one in the fridge…’ Juan said, and took it. He went to get a glass, but first he seemed to remember what he had forgotten to do at the door. He gave her a brief kiss on the cheek, a sort of European greeting kiss, which was very nice and very friendly and very tame…

      She glanced down to see that he was barefoot. Cate had never found feet sexy, but his were: he had very long toes, which made her aware that her own toes were curling. His eyes were looking not at her but at her oiled and scented body and at two thick nipples that were poking out like two mini-erections. There was a throb between her legs and, for safety’s sake, she should have worn a bra, Cate thought.

      ‘You’re shorter without your high heels on.’ Cate said and, as she spoke, even Cate didn’t recognize her own voice—it was thick and loaded with lust—and it was then she found out how nice the wine she’d bought was, because she got a taste, and not from the glass.

      He wedged her to the kitchen bench and she was kissing him back. Frantic, hungry, pre-dinner kisses. She wondered what on earth she’d been worrying about, wondered why on earth she hadn’t spent the last few weeks being slammed up against his kitchen bench or taken on the floor.

      ‘Sorry,’ he breathed, prising his face from hers. ‘That’s why I didn’t kiss you at the door…’

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