Ghosts of Winter (37 page)

“God, Ros,” she moaned against my lips, her breath coming harder and faster.

“I’ve never wanted anyone so much, Anna.” She slipped her fingers virtually out of me and then drove them back in powerfully. I rocked my hips with the movements of her hand and pushed my mouth back onto hers. I gave myself up entirely to the heat of her mouth, the slide of her tongue over mine, and the wonderful stretch of her fingers inside me, the way she skilfully caressed my most sensitive spot with her thumb. I knew I was digging my fingers into her shoulders as I felt the pressure building between my hips. I threw my head back and felt her mouth on my throat, knew the caress of her teeth there had left a mark. Then there was nothing but dizzying intensity, as all of the sensations became one and found their focus where her hand continued to move, meeting there and exploding so powerfully tears came into my eyes, and I couldn’t see as I cried out loud.

Anna’s fingers remained inside me, and as my vision cleared she was trembling and panting for air as hard as I was. In awe of her arousal, and the idea it was a reaction to me, I reached for her, sliding my hand to her slick sex, and pressing where she needed the touch to send her over the edge. For a moment she stopped breathing, and then she was shuddering, a deep sound of satisfaction in her throat. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close to her hot body. When I looked up into her face, she was flushed and her eyes shining, her expression one of slight surprise.

 “Fucking hell, Ros, I didn’t know that was possible.”

“What?” Still breathless, I eased back so I could see her expression.

“So easily, so quickly. I don’t know how you did that. It’s never been like that before.”

“Never?”

“Never. It’s usually much more...drawn out, if you remember.”

“Does that make me special?” I smiled, filled with pleasure she’d experienced that with me.

“Absolutely. You really don’t know, Ros.” Her words sounded deadly serious. “But don’t let it go to your head.” She laughed gently.

“Too late, it already has.” I was intrigued. There was still so much to learn about Anna. Maybe we could start properly on that journey now. “Come to bed with me,” I said, trying to tug her down next to me.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Ros, and insatiable though you might be, some of us have work to do.”

“I’m paying you, you have to do what I say.”

She looked back at me with her arousal very apparent in her eyes. “Ah, but it doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. If you don’t let me go and do my job now, I won’t spend the night with you tonight.”

“You’re going to stay overnight?”

“If you want me.”

“You know I do.”

“Then let me work now, or I won’t show you what I’ve got in mind for you.”

“Even if I beg?”

“I could be persuaded. But are you going to take that chance?”

I considered, then smiled. “No. Go on, go and do architect things to my house. I’ve got to look at some colour schemes the interior designer sent me, anyway. I’ll save my energy for later.”

“You’ll need it.” She grinned wickedly, and then began to dress. “I’m going to nip back to the office for a short while, shall I bring some food back from Durham with me?”

“Sounds good.” It did sound good. Yet part of me was unsatisfied still. The thought of Anna spending the night with me, of more fabulous sex, was exciting. Even just a night chatting with her was a thrilling prospect. But when was I going to get more? When would I finally be able to connect completely with the real Anna? Understand what she expected this relationship to be? Did she want to confide in me on that level? She’d seemed to tell me she would. I felt the change in her, dared to hope her fears had mellowed. But when would she assure me? Was I brave enough to ask?

“Any preference? I was thinking maybe Thai?” Anna’s expression gave no clue she felt there was anything unspoken between us. She had to feel it though. She’d admitted it herself. I was certain there were things she wanted to say and hadn’t quite worked out how. I wanted to create the opportunity for her to tell me. Not just to ease her mind. I needed her to tell me.

“Excellent.” I looked at her speculatively. How on earth did I begin such a conversation? I didn’t want to risk the happiness of the place we were in now.

“How’s it going with the interior designer, by the way?” Businesslike Anna was reasserting herself. Now wasn’t the time to ask. But it had to be soon. For now I would enjoy the moment, but I knew the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away until I had answers.

“Oh, she’s excellent. More down to earth than I thought she would be. She’s got some interesting ideas involving keeping most of the period style but adding a modern twist so it’s not like a museum.” I thought back to my meeting with the designer, a woman in her mid-thirties with bobbed black hair, who had arrived wearing a startling canary-yellow dress teamed with scarlet tights. “She’s an interesting character. Is she really called Marigold?”

“I have no idea,” Anna replied as she buttoned her shirt. “If she is, then her parents clearly had some idea of how she was going to turn out. Or maybe she moulded herself to fit the name. I’ve always known her as Mari, but I never asked if it was her real name. She’s probably called Doris or something.”

“You know such a lot of interesting and useful people.” How well did any of them know Anna? Did she let anyone in?

“I keep hold of contacts once I’ve made them, that’s all,” she replied with a dismissive shrug. “You never know when you might need someone with a particular talent.”

“Is that why you’re attracted to me?”

“Well, show me some more of what you’re talented at tonight, and I might decide to keep your number handy,” she said, bending to lace up her shoes. I couldn’t help but laugh, though in doing so I overrode the part of me that wished she wouldn’t joke about her attraction to me so much. I shut out the doubts. For now. She shrugged her way into her jacket, retied her hair into its ponytail, and removed her glasses, polished them with a soft cloth from the case in her pocket, and put them back into place. My efficient, tailored, intimidating Anna was back, but still smiling at me.

“Do you know you’re slightly frightening when you’re in professional mode?”

“Not
frightening
I hope,” she returned. “I aim for efficient and maybe a little unapproachable.”

“You actually aim for unapproachable?”

“Yes. Makes my appointments shorter I tend to find. People are less inclined to chat with me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Didn’t work on me.”

“No. I must have done something wrong.”

“I guess I find unapproachable sexy.”

“Are you saying you find me sexy, Ros?” Her mouth was twitching with amusement again.

“Is that what I implied?”

“Yes.”

“Then that must be what I mean.”

Her teasingly hard face relaxed into a warm grin, and she came to me and kissed me. “I’ll show you how sexy
I
find
you
later,” she said softly, kissed me again, then picked up her briefcase and left the room. I watched her go, and smiled to myself with the knowledge she would be back later. These were still early days. Anna showed no signs of losing interest, and the spark between us seemed to be igniting a flame. I could content myself with that for a while. Besides, the sex was great. I could linger on those thoughts instead of worrying about how to get Anna to talk to me. Perhaps she would open up in her own time without me probing. Thinking of Anna, of all that had just passed between us, it took me a while to rouse myself from my pleasant repose to pay attention to the colour schemes Marigold the interior designer had left me to consider.

*

By the middle of February, the pain in my ribs had faded to a dull ache, and though my leg was still in its cast, I’d become so used to it I could get around easily. The renovation of Winter had hit no unforeseen problems and was progressing well. Anna had drawn up plans for the conversion of the attics to guest accommodation and a studio space, along with the addition of an extra staircase to access that floor, incorporating much of the east wing into the guest area. It was, as she said, perfect if I did want to start a business at Winter, but an excellent use of the space even if I did not. I trusted her professional judgement implicitly.

The rest of the house had become a huge blank canvas. The plumbing and electric systems had been overhauled and updated and the walls re-plastered by Anna’s friend Sam, who was, it turned out, delighted Anna and I were together. I found my hostility towards her vanished now she was no longer my rival, and even managed to laugh with her about my previous reaction to her performance, as we took a break together on her first day working at Winter.

“You’re a braver woman than me,” she’d said, laughing and patting my arm as though she had sympathy. “I wouldn’t go near Anna as a date myself.”

I looked over at Anna who was smiling wryly as she reclined in my armchair, drinking a cup of coffee. “She is rather terrifying,” I said conspiratorially to Sam.

“Scares me to death,” Sam replied. “It’s the only reason I’m friends with her. I want her on my side in a fight.”

“I know what you mean—”

“I’ll have you know this is a carefully cultivated image I’ve had to work very hard at creating,” Anna said. “And you didn’t have any complaints last night, Ros.” Then she winked at me. I was so astonished at the brash gesture and blunt words, I was lost for an articulate response and burst out laughing, blushing at the memories. Though my ribs ached with my laughter, it felt so good to share a light-hearted moment with a friend and the woman I was convinced I was falling head over heels for, the pain was worth it.

The evenings Anna did not stay with me were the worst times. Though I was left with a lingering warmth every time I saw her, when I was alone in the huge rooms, I missed her. Missing her, I began to think about our relationship carefully, and that was when doubts resurfaced. We were in a good place. There was flirting and good-natured conversation, the sex was undeniably hot. But we’d not made the progress I’d hoped for, and I couldn’t help the feeling there was still something missing. There was still part of Anna I didn’t know.

I’d become increasingly confident that my own sense of myself was here to stay. I didn’t doubt my own judgement, and I was finally able to understand just why Anna wanted to be with me. If I was still dubious about accepting I had been brave to take on the challenge of Winter, I could at least understand why Anna saw it that way.

But I still couldn’t read Anna completely. Our relationship was still new, and neither of us had laid any ground rules at all. I didn’t want to push while we were still feeling each other out. But I was increasingly certain I needed to reach out to that hidden part of Anna if I was ever going to understand her fully, if we were ever to truly be together. Was she still frightened? What of? I resolved to make sure my actions demonstrated the strength of my feelings. And I would look for a moment to begin the difficult conversation. That I had the strength in myself to even consider it was something I was inclined to be proud of myself for, and that was a very good feeling indeed.

*

Nervously, I invited Jeanne to visit at the end of February. Winter was tidier and less dusty by then, most of the remaining heavy-duty work located in the attics and the basement kitchen. The bathroom had been completely refurbished, the facilities fully functional. I’d managed to make the Blue Drawing Room into something like a respectable living area, with the addition of a small sofa, a coffee table, new curtains, and some real cupboards to get my possessions out of cardboard boxes. It still needed to be fully decorated, but I could light the fire in the fireplace and at least offer guests a seat other than my bed. Though it was tempting to wait to invite Jeanne until all the work was done, I soon realised how keen I was to see her again.

She came, with her husband Phil and six-year old Madeline, on a Saturday morning. Anna left me early that morning to return to her own house. She told me she wanted me to have private time with them, but I couldn’t help wonder if she was wary of the connotations of meeting my family and facing their reaction to our relationship. More commitment than she was ready for? In truth, although part of me was keen for her to meet my sister, I wasn’t entirely sure how the encounter with Jeanne would progress, and I wasn’t convinced I wanted Anna as a witness if it did not work out as well as I was hoping.

My fears were unfounded. Jeanne’s visit was more than smooth, it was fun and encouraging. By the time she left I felt my new optimism had been replenished. Seeing my sister again, little changed since the last time we’d met, reassured me there were constants in my life that the last year could not take away from me. I should cherish my baby sister, however different our personalities were.

In addition, Jeanne and her husband Phil’s admiration of Winter had made me so proud of everything I’d achieved here so far. I was pleased the house was now fit to be admired, a daunting remnant of the past no more. Jeanne’s visit allowed me to see it through fresh eyes.

When Anna returned to Winter, Jeanne and Phil had only been gone for about half an hour. She found me seated on the front steps, my plastered leg stretched out, still smiling in the aftermath of the happy visit.