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Authors: Hazel Osmond

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe? (26 page)

BOOK: Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe?
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‘Is it how you like it? Not overdone?’ he asked, and suddenly wanted to ask her those questions about the sex too.

She nodded, but there was no masking how miserable she seemed, as if he’d disappointed her or hurt her. He grimaced. He’d never had any complaints before. He was sure she had been enjoying herself. He’d been really careful to make sure she was. Perhaps he’d gone too fast, or too far.

Jack put the last piece of his steak into his mouth and laid down his knife and fork. The ‘clunk’ they made resonated around the kitchen.

‘Could I have a drink, please, Jack?’ Ellie asked, and he got up and fetched her some water.

When he sat back down, he put his finger out and wiped it through a smear of steak juice left on his plate. Ellie was still frowning, just sitting there sipping her water.

She was obviously having second thoughts about what they’d done. That frown said it all. Well, that might not be so bad; that could work in his favour. If she wanted to forget all about it, that could make it less complicated. He wouldn’t have to break it to her gently that it was only a fling, and she wouldn’t be tricky with him about it all when she came back from her holiday.

But he was in uncharted waters here: he’d never had to cope with having sex with anyone at work before.

No, that wasn’t true. He had in fact had sex at work before: that time in his Manchester office with a soft-drinks client. Bubbly, he remembered, like her products. But sex with a client wasn’t the same thing at all.

He checked on Ellie’s expression again. Still frowning. Shame she felt like that, though, a big shame.

Jack lifted his finger to his mouth and absentmindedly licked the juice from it. Still, at least Ellie wasn’t a blabber; there was no way she would spread this all over the agency; that was Rachel’s role in life. So perhaps it was for the best, this misery. They could both remember it as one mad night, a way to clear all the sexual tension that had been fizzing and crackling between them.

Bloody wonderful night, though.

Jack wiped his finger round his plate again. And bloody wonderful body. She definitely wasn’t a xylophone girl with the kind of ribs you could feel as you ran your hands over them. No, Ellie was soft and curvy and … what was the word? Jack lifted his finger to his mouth again. Yielding. Yeah, definitely yielding. And it looked like she didn’t have any underwear on under that dress now either. He popped his finger back in his mouth. Probably on to a loser asking her to stay a bit longer when she obviously wanted to get the hell out, but the thought of having her one more time was very, very tempting.

Jack sucked his finger deep into his mouth and then happened to look up. Ellie was watching him. Her eyes, focused on the finger in his mouth, were heavy with a look he recognised.

Lust. The realisation that she was feeling it too stirred his groin back into life, but before he could do anything, she gave a kind of half-gasp, half-sob and turned his guts to water.

‘Jack,’ she said, ‘I’d become so stale, so timid. Thank you.’

He was on her in seconds, lifting her on to the table and ripping her dress from her shoulders. Very soon he had his jeans down and he was inside her, his thighs straining against the table. He heard a clatter and a crash as they knocked a plate on to the floor; he felt the empty condom packet crinkle under his foot. Nothing mattered but getting as far inside Ellie as he could. She was warm and sexy and funny and right at this minute it didn’t matter that he should be running like hell in the other direction.

Jack saw her throw her head back, her curls like a mane around her shoulders and the moonlight bathing her in silver. She looked wild and ethereal and he couldn’t stop himself. Bending forward slowly, he gave a low growl and bit her very, very softly on her neck.

CHAPTER 24
 

Jack stood on the pavement outside the agency, watching the traffic go by. A group of girls giggled past him. A young boy ran across the road and tripped on the kerb. Pigeons pecked in the gutter.

He put his hand into his pocket and felt for the slip of paper. Pulling it out, he read the phone number on it and remembered the look on the woman’s face when she had handed it to him earlier in the day. Hungry, promising. She was probably sitting in her chambers right now. Perhaps she was even waiting for his call. It was only round the corner; he could be there in no time. Perhaps she’d keep on her wig and wear nothing but her gown and he could chalk up another first: a judge. Or had he already had one of those?

Jack squinted up at the sky and pursed his lips, then rolled the slip of paper into a tight ball and put it back into his pocket.

What was he playing at? He should forget the mad
weekend he’d had with Ellie and ring that judge. It was Monday now and everyone knew mad weekends ended when you dropped the girl back at her house on Sunday night.

It had been a fantastic weekend, though. No, more like mind-blowing. Jack grinned. Really surprising, very energetic, very erotic. Bit of a slow burner, Ellie. From dazed to downright dirty in forty-eight hours.

But it had to be just a weekend nonetheless. Monday was back to work, real life and on to pastures new.

He stood there a bit longer looking at the traffic.

But sometimes people had long weekends, didn’t they? Ones that included Monday. He put his hand out abruptly and a taxi veered towards the kerb. He would see if Ellie was in. If she wasn’t, he’d ring that judge.

What difference would it make, in the end, if he grabbed one more night? It still gave them both time to calm down before she came back to work.

Jack ignored the very faint sound of an alarm bell in his head and got into the taxi.

Ellie lifted up the carrier bags and negotiated her way through the crates of oranges and onions to get out of the shop. Edith trotted along behind.

‘No, I enjoyed it, Edith,’ she said, as she gave Mr Arundi from the launderette a wave.

Edith waved at Mr Arundi too and then turned her
attention back to Ellie. ‘Even the bit where the vampire impaled the girl with the—’

‘Yup, OK, no need to go back over it.’

‘Only, even in the dark of the cinema you looked a bit green. I remember your mother didn’t like blood and sharp things and—’

‘Honestly, Edith, I enjoyed it. Now, do you need any more rice?’

‘No, dear, plenty of that, enough to feed an army.’

They continued to chat as they passed the last of the shops and turned round the corner to the house. Ellie let Edith go ahead to open the gate and promised herself that she’d come out later and give the front hedge a bit of a haircut. She was busy thinking about whether Edith might have some shears anywhere and did not notice, until she had bumped into her, that Edith had stopped walking up the path. The word ‘sorry’ died in her mouth when she saw who Edith was looking at.

Jack was sitting on the doorstep, reading the evening newspaper and eating a bar of chocolate.

‘Hello,’ he said.

‘Hello,’ Ellie replied, trying not to grin.

‘Been somewhere nice?’


Zombie Maidens and the Vampires of Death
,’ Edith said.

‘A tender portrayal of blood, guts and carnage,’ added Ellie.

Jack nodded and folded up his newspaper.

‘Have you been waiting long?’ Ellie asked.

He didn’t answer, simply took a last bite of chocolate and then gathered up his paper and his briefcase and stood up. There was a little hiatus, which Edith ended by saying, ‘I was about to make tea, Jack. Would you care to join us?’

Jack made a doubtful face.

‘It’s one of my proper curries, Jack, made from scratch, all the genuine spices. It’ll blow your brains out.’

‘Well …’ Jack said, shoving the chocolate wrapper in his pocket.

‘Go on,’ Edith said, pushing past him to open the front door, ‘and then you and Ellie can go upstairs and discuss those things you advertising people are always discussing.’

‘What’s that, Edith?’ Ellie eyed Jack warily.

Edith hesitated on the threshold as if she had forgotten what she was trying to say. Then her expression brightened. ‘Unique selling points, that’s it. Yes, you can go and discuss each other’s unique selling points.’

Behind her, Ellie heard Jack snigger.

Later that evening Ellie dragged herself up off her bedroom floor and stood with her back to her full-length mirror. She turned her head as far as she could to try to look over her shoulder and down her body.

‘Sorry,’ Jack said, smiling up at her from the floor, where he lay naked and propped up on one elbow, ‘bit over-enthusiastic.’

‘That’s fine, Jack.’ Ellie flinched as she found the carpet burn and touched it delicately with her fingers. ‘Not sure if it was the high quality of your technique or the low quality of my carpet.’

‘Back to the wisecracking, eh?’

A look passed between them.

‘What do you mean?’ Ellie said hesitantly.

‘You do it a lot. I think I’ve worked out that it’s not you wanting to show off. It’s actually some kind of defence mechanism.’ He grinned. ‘Bit late to try to keep me at arm’s length, Ellie.’

Ellie dropped her gaze. ‘I’ll go and put some cream on this,’ she said, and walked quickly from the room so that she didn’t have to tell Jack he was a clever swine.

When she came back into the room, Jack was lying down. He seemed distracted and vaguely sad.

Perhaps he regretted coming round? Or found her as dull as Sam had?

‘Jack,’ she said softly, sitting down on the bed, ‘I didn’t expect you to come round … I mean, you shouldn’t feel that …’

Jack didn’t appear to be listening and Ellie worried if it was that plate of glass between him and his emotions that was making him appear so distant. Then she saw his eyes clear and he stood up. Here in her room, he looked so tall that it made the ceiling appear too low.

‘So, all the rooms up here are yours?’ he said. ‘No swirly
orange carpet, no china figurines or footstools in the shape of Indian elephants?’

Ellie had seen him survey Edith’s sitting room earlier with an amused expression.

‘No, Jack, this floor is mine and Edith has very kindly let me decorate it as I please.’

Jack nodded and picked up Ellie’s dress from the floor and wrapped it round his waist before going over to the window. Ellie’s eyes lingered on the magnificent view he presented, even dressed as he was now, in what looked like a floral miniskirt. Long, long legs, slim hips and broad shoulders. More like a swimmer than a rugby player. She supposed that was what gave him his grace. She wondered if Jack did lots of swimming and then thought about him wet and forgot what they had been talking about.

‘Nice view,’ he said, bending down to look out of the window.

Ellie had to agree that it certainly was, although she guessed that Jack was actually referring to the garden.

‘We eat out in the garden a lot now the weather’s better.’

He nodded and, turning away from the window, went over to the door. ‘So, what else is up here?’ he said.

‘I’ll show you. Hang on, I’ll put on my kimonoey thing.’

Jack was already out on the landing. ‘No, come as you are,’ he called back. ‘You’re not going to be able to improve on that.’

‘Is that a compliment?’ Ellie felt a blush spread up over
her face; stupid, really, to get embarrassed after what they’d been up to on the carpet. ‘Or are you having another go at my dress sense?’

‘It’s a compliment, Ellie,’ Jack said, his voice now coming from her sitting room, ‘although since I’ve seen Edith with her clothes on, I can see where you get your sense of style.’

Ellie grabbed her kimono and tied its belt as she went to follow him. ‘Cheeky swine, I’ve improved a lot recently.’

‘Still like you better without anything on, though,’ he said, as she joined him.

‘Right.’ Ellie smiled at him and for a moment he smiled back and then he was off round the room peering at the book titles and picking up the pebbles and shells she had lying around. Ellie decided that he was looking for clues about her, but whether that was a good or bad thing she had no idea.

‘So, this living with Edith thing …’

‘Go on,’ said Ellie, folding her arms.

‘Don’t you have any friends your own age?’

‘Yeah, I have plenty of friends my own age, thank you. I didn’t do it because I was a Billy no mates. I needed to find somewhere to live quickly after Sam … after Sam … Anyway, Edith suggested it and it made sense.’

‘Why did it make sense?’ Jack was staring at her intently again.

She sighed, probably a bit too dramatically, but he was
starting to remind her of how he was at work, always trying to dominate her.

The way he was working to prise out little details about her was becoming disturbing. What would he do with these nuggets of information once they were both back in their normal roles at work? That ‘wisecrack’ observation had been a little near the bone.

‘So,’ Jack asked again, ‘why did it make sense to move in with Edith?’

‘Because I wanted to stay in this area, I like it a lot, and because it meant I could keep an eye on Edith.’ She glared at him, defying him to make something of that, and then added, ‘Besides, she was spending about three nights a week at my old flat anyway.’

Jack sat down in an armchair. ‘And does Edith have any family of her own? I mean sons, daughters?’

‘Yes, two daughters, Constance and Pandora. They’ve got their own families. And, well, she’s a bit of a disappointment to her daughters I think. They don’t come to see her very often, just Christmas, Easter, her birthday, that kind of thing.’

‘Poor Edith.’

‘I don’t think of her like that. To be honest, she and her daughters don’t have much to say to each other when they do meet up. I think they bore her. And I suppose from Constance and Pandora’s point of view, she’s best kept at a distance. There they are, pillars of their local
community, and then Edith totters into view dressed in a leopard-print trouser suit and reeking of gin. It’s not the image they’re after.’

‘Doesn’t bother you, though?’

Ellie waved a hand dismissively. ‘She’s not my mother, it’s different. I actually like the fact she’s a bit unpredictable. I’m sure she’s pushing eighty, you know, though she’d rather tear out her tongue than admit it. Yet she still keeps on going out, having fun, making new friends. I hope I’m like that at her age.’

BOOK: Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe?
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