Mr Right for the Night (27 page)

Six o’clock couldn’t  come fast enough.

In the middle  of O’Connell  Street she dialled  his number  from a payphone. He should  be back  from Manchester by now.

‘Hello?’ came the vibrant  voice at the other  end of  the line.

‘Guess who  this is?’ Anna  teased.

‘Jennifer Lopez.’

‘Try again.’

‘The stunner  off the plane.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘You don’t  know  my name,  right?’

‘And  you  don’t  know   mine  either,  smartarse,’ Anna laughed.

‘It’s Darren.’

‘My name’s Anna.’

‘Where are you,  Anna?’

‘O’Connell  Street.’

‘Why don’t  I meet you in the Gresham?’

‘Perfect.’

Anna  retouched her  make-up   in  the  bathroom of  the  Gresham   Hotel,   congratulating  herself  on having managed  to stay awake  the whole  day.  She couldn’t  believe  she was  actually  going  on  a date now.  God  worked   in  mysterious   ways.  She  was convinced  of  that.

He was bang  on time. 
He was keen
.

‘Hi,’ Anna  said  cas
ually  as Darren, all six-foot-
three  of him, pulled  up a chair.

‘Hi.’ He  held  her  gaze  and  she  felt  a  butterfly or two  flutter  from  one side of her stomach  to the other.  ‘I needn’t  tell  you  you  look  great  ’cos I’m sure you  already  know  that.’

‘No  you  needn’t,’  Ann
a  pulled  at  her  hair  self-
consciously,  ‘because I look  like shit.’

‘You’re obviously  not  a night  owl,  are you?’

‘You’re wrong.  I’m very much  a night  owl.  But those red-eye flights are a killer.’

‘You’re right,  they  are.’ Darren  leaned  forward, his eyes boring  into  her. ‘I’m wrecked  myself. Let’s go to  bed.’

‘I presume  you’re joking.’

‘Of course.’  He gave her arm  a friendly  punch.

‘Ow.’

‘Sorry, would  you like a kiss instead?’

She stared at him blankly not quite knowing  how to  respond. Was this guy for real?

‘Kiss me then,’  she teased.

He leaned  forward and  placed  a warm  hand  on her upper thigh. Her heart began to thud a lot faster than  usual.  Surely this  was  a dream?  Any minute now  she  was  going  to  wake  up  in her  little  room in Galway  and  realize this was all a cruel hoax.

And then she felt his strong  lips against  hers. She closed her eyes and  let her own  lips respond. This was  the stuff Hollywood dreams  were made  of.

And this time Anna  Allstone  was the star. Eventually, slowly, reluctantly, she withdrew from
his embrace.  She sneaked  a  furtive  glance  around her.  It wouldn’t  do  if the  crowd  from  Lolta’s  had happened to come in for a drink.  But nobody  was watching,  thank  God.  After  all,  kissing  in  public was  tacky  at  the best  of  times.  But  this  kiss  was different.  It was  like nothing  before,  warming  her heart  and  every part  of her  body.  Impulsively  she leaned  forward and  kissed  him again.

He asked if she was hungry.  Hungry?  How  could he  possibly  think  about  food  at a time like this?

She shrugged.  ‘Not  really.’

‘Well, I’m starving.  Tell you what,  I’m going to pick  up  my car  in the  Ilac car  park  and  I’ll come round  and  pick  you  up  if  you  just  wait   inside the door.’

Fifteen minutes  later  when  a shiny black  Ferrari braked  outside  the  Gresham  and  beeped  the  horn Anna chose to ignore it. She stared  anxiously  down Dublin’s main street and looked at her watch.
Come on,  Darren,  where  are you?

The  Ferrari   driver   stuck   his  head   out   of  the window.  ‘You getting  in or what?’

Dazed,   Anna   moved   towards  the  Ferrari.   She slipped into the comfortable leather seat and fastened her  seatbelt.  ‘Sorry, I wasn’t  expecting  a––’

‘My mini broke  down  so I borrowed it,’ Darren laughed.

This  has  to  be  the  one,  Anna  decided  as  the car  cruised  along  the  street  attracting stares  from passers-by.  He was the ultimate  date  for Victoria’s party. Just wait until those nasty cows saw this babe machine  parked  outside  Victoria’s house. She could imagine  their  faces  contorting as  she  sashayed  in with  her  handsome hunk.   She  turned   to  look  at his  perfectly  sculpted   face,  high  cheekbones   and strong  jaw.  When  God  had  been giving out  looks, Darren must have booted  all the other  Irish blokes off the  queue.

It was funny  the way things  worked  out,  wasn’t it? Just when  you thought you were facing a brick wall,  somehow  it crumbled  and  you  were  able  to step over  it. And it was true  what  they said about meeting  people  when  you  least  expected  it.  She’d spent  the  last  few  months  searching  for  Mr  Right for the night,  and  then this morning  she’d just met him by chance  at an airport  of all places!

Now  let the fun begin . . .

Dinner was at Patrick  Guilbauds. Darren  ordered for  them  both   and  chose  an  expensive  bottle  of champagne. A few  famous  faces  dotted  the  room including   a  Hollywood star  but  Anna  decided  it would be totally uncool to point him out to Darren. Darren  looked   like  the  type  of  guy  who’d  been born  in  a  Hollywood  studio.   But  he  wasn’t   an actor.  He  was  in  business   he’d  told   Anna,   and hadn’t  cared  to  elaborate. That  suited  Anna  fine. She couldn’t bear people who went on and on about  their  work.

When  he  suggested
   going  back   to  his  apart
ment   for   a  nightcap   she  didn’t   object.   In  fact she  was  dying  to  see it.  Everything  about  Darren was  impressive  so  far.  And  he  wasn’t  just  some Flash Harry  with a credit card either. He was witty, smart  and intriguing,  and Anna  couldn’t  believe he hadn’t  been  snapped  up  before  this.  He  explained  that  it  was  hard  to  meet  people  when  you  were working crazy hours and constantly travelling. Anna understood  that.  
It  was  extremely  hard  to  meet people  these days
.

Darren’s place was a luxury penthouse  suite in Ballsbridge. From the huge windows  were stunning views of the city. Dublin  was a blaze of welcoming lights  from  where  she  was  standing   and  she  felt like  some  kind  of crusader  about  to  embark  on  a tremendously exciting  adventure.

Darren  retrieved  a bottle  of Dom  Perignon  from the  drinks   cabinet,   a  monstrous  mirrored  affair, complete  with  ice maker.  He  gallantly  poured  the champagne  into  two  Waterford crystal  flutes  and made  a toast.  ‘To us,’ he smiled knowingly  as her knees went  to jelly.  ‘Us.’

Anna  hardly   dared   look  at  him  for  fear  he’d realize  her  attraction  to  him.  Instead   she  drank  in  the  surroundings. The place looked  barely  lived in.  Huge  white  sofas,  glass tables  and  modern  art hangings.  Anna   could   get  used  to  a  place  like this.  It  would  be  perfect  for  a  young  couple  like themselves. Stop it, she scolded  herself.  Aren’t you jumping  the  gun  a bit?  You’ve only  just  met  him and  already  you’re planning  on  moving  in. Relax, Anna  Allstone.  Play it cool.

She wasn’t  about  to  blow 
this
  one.  She’d made enough mistakes this year. But it had all worked  out in the end, hadn’t it? After all if she
had
stayed with any of her  exes then  she’d never have met Darren. And then she’d have been stuck going along to this party  with  one of  those  headwreckers.

Hopefully  Darren   hadn’t  anything   else planned  for  the  weekend  of the  party.  She’d have  to  think of a  good excuse  to  keep  him  in town  that  night without telling him exactly why. She didn’t want  to come across  as an eager beaver.

‘More  champagne?’   He   slipped   into   the   sofa beside her.  His  aftershave  was strong  and  sensual. She  wanted  to pounce  on him.

‘I’d love some,’ she smiled.

The bubbles  were shooting  straight  for her head, making her feel dizzy with desire. Darren  must have slipped some kind of love potion  into her drink.  She was  completely  unable  to  concentrate on  a  word he was saying. She was far too  busy concentrating on how  his torso  might  look  underneath his white cotton   shirt.  Discreetly  she  checked  out  his  long strong  legs  beneath  the  soft  fabric  of his trousers. There was no doubt  about  it, Darren  was the most desirable  creature  she’d ever laid eyes on.

She wanted  him  to  stop  talking.  He  was  going on  about  life and  how  it  was  full  of surprises  or something. She wanted  him  to  stay  quiet.  He  was unbearably sexy. Her  arm  reached  for the back  of his  neck  and  she  drew  herself  towards him.  Her lips locked  hard  onto  his. He kissed her back,  fast and  furiously  as  he  fumbled  with  the  top  button of her  shirt.  Her  head  was  swimming  with  shock and   pleasure   as  her  hands   tugged   at   his  thick leather  belt.

‘You’re beautiful,’  he cried as he helped her with his  belt,  ‘you truly  are a beautiful  woman.’

Feeling desirable  and  powerful, she leaned  back on the sofa and  let his hands  roam  the top  part  of her  body. Beautiful?  Nobody had  ever  called  her that  before  (apart   from  a  bunch  of  drunk   rugby supporters at the last French  international). Pretty? Yes.  Attractive?   Absolutely.   But  beautiful?   God, maybe  she  was.  Maybe  people  had  just  forgotten to tell her.

Suddenly  her  bra  was  open  and  Anna  wished there   was   some   way   of  turning   out   the   lights without making  a big scene. But she was  terrified of  coming  across  as  a  prude,  so  when  his  fingers caressed  her  nipples  until  they  hardened, she  said nothing.

She felt sexy and  silly all at  once.  Sexy because this was something  that  had never happened to her before.  Silly because  this  man  was  a stranger  and if  this  night  happened  to  turn   into   a  one-night stand,   she  knew  she’d  feel  sordid   and  disgusted with  herself.

Besides she wasn’t ready for this night of passion. Her  bra  was  black  and  her  knickers  were  cream with  pink  faded  roses  on  them.  Her  legs  hadn’t been  shaved  for  a  week  and  her  toenails   hadn’t seen  scissors in nearly  three.

‘Stop  now,’   she  whispered   gently  and   pushed away the sexiest man  on earth.  ‘I have to get back to  my hotel.’

She noticed  a deep disappointment creep into his face,  making  her feel an incredible  rush  of power. This  was  the  part  she loved  most.  When  the  man was mad about you because he hadn’t  had you yet. You were still this big mystery  to him.  And it was driving  him crazy.

‘Please stay,’ he begged.  ‘I promise 
nothing
will happen.’

If Anna  had  a pound  for every time  a man  had made that  promise  she reckoned  she’d be living in a  penthouse just like this one.

‘No really I
have
to go,’ she insisted,  wondering where  she was getting  the willpower  to be so firm. This was the new Anna Allstone. The girl who called the shots. The girl who men were driven wild about,  never  sure  where  they  stood.  Anna  liked  this  new girl. She loved  her!

‘I’ll drive you home.’

‘No, you’ve been drinking.’

‘Not  much.’

‘Too much,’  she wagged  her finger at him.

‘Please stay,’ he tried again.  Fair play to men but they  rarely  took  no for an answer.

But no was the only answer  Darren  was getting. She  rang  for a taxi  and  left.

‘Tell me  all,’  Aoife  squealed,   ‘from  beginning  to end.’

‘Oh God,  that’s  going to take  some time,’ Anna admitted.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Anna related the story to her enthusiastic flatmate. It  felt  like  she  was  talking  about   somebody  else. Things like that  didn’t happen  to people like Anna. She was almost afraid to go to sleep in case she woke up and realized this was all some kind of cruel dream. She was afraid that  he might remove the blinkers  he was obviously wearing and find out she was nothing  special.

Just Anna Allstone.

‘So has he rung yet?’ asked Aoife wide-eyed.

‘No.’ Anna looked  slightly doubtful.

‘And would you not think of giving him a shout?’

‘Absolutely not!’ Anna was adamant.

The phone rang suddenly making both girls jump. Anna’s heart began to pound. What was she going to say to him? She took  a deep breath.

‘I’ll get it,’ Aoife offered.  ‘You relax a sec.’

‘Hello? Oh, hi Grainne  . . . yeah we’re fine, we’re all fine . . .’

Anna could  feel her heart  sinking  to the bottom of her stomach.  This was madness. She shouldn’t  be sitting in at her stage of life waiting  for a phone  to ring. She had to get out. Sure didn’t everybody know that  the minute you left the house the phone started  hopping?  She  grabbed  her  coat  and  scarf,  waved Aoife  goodbye  and  set  out  for  a  walk.  The  wind should clear her head. It had to.

She sat on a small bench  facing
the sea and  the magnificent  Clare Hills.  The  hour  change
meant longer, brigh
ter
e
venings and thankfully tonight
the rain had stayed away.