Part 29 (1/2)

'I'll wait here.' Elliot turns away and stares intently at the c.o.c.ktail menu.

As soon as we're out of his earshot Joel whoops, 'It's gonna be a cinch!'

'What is?'

'Having him fall in love with you,' Joel taunts.

'Don't say that!'

'He's halfway there already.'

'I know he loves me as a friend but-'

'Trust me. We can do this,' Joel a.s.serts.

'Okay,' I blink.

Right now I'd believe anything he says I feel utterly in his power and if that hot shower happens to come complete with him as a human loofah I won't be complaining.

'After you.' Joel motions me into the crowded lift then, just as the doors squeeze closed, he booms, 'Can I have my fleece back now please?' over-enunciating to be certain everyone hears his request.

I look at him. Surely he can't mean now now.

He makes a 'gimme' motion with his fingers.

If he thinks he can humiliate me by making me reveal my glittering torso in a lift populated by conservatively dressed sixty-somethings, he's right. But I do it anyway. I feel he's earned a thrill at my expense.

'That was priceless!' Joel wipes a tear from his eye as we career down the corridor to his room.

I'm laughing too but more from nerves than the image of the neck-cricking double-takes I prompted it's been a long time since I was alone with a man of such blatant s.e.xuality.

The room is chintzy-grand with two heavy king beds, a pair of winged armchairs and a cherry wood table set with a bottle of Merlot and a fancy cheese and fruit platter.

'Help yourself!' Joel says, knowing I'm so hungry I could eat one of the scatter cus.h.i.+ons.

'You've got a balcony!' I say, sending splinters of water biscuit into the carpet.

I step out, only to recoil instantly from the cold. I'd forgotten we were experiencing the Ice Age.

'You must be frozen to the core.' Joel captures me and vigorously rubs my arms. 'Don't worry, we have ways of making you warm!'

My eyes stray to the nearest bed. What is it about this man that has me wanting to get wanton? One slight innuendo and I'm wondering what the possibilities might have been if Elliot wasn't waiting downstairs. Elliot. I feel a s.h.i.+mmy of disloyalty but then remind myself that I'm a free agent. He's never exhibited any carnal interest in me, unlike Joel.

'Ready for that shower?'

I nod.

He leads me to the bathroom and pushes open the door. I step inside then turn to face him, my hand is on the handle but I'm reluctant to close the door in his face. He holds my gaze, looking intrigued rather than wolfish, then smiles, 'Well, much as I'd love to stay and watch ...' and retreats into the room.

As I turn the lock I struggle to suppress a whimper of l.u.s.t, settling instead for a flamenco clatter of heels on the tiled floor. He's so s.e.xy! I try and shake the feeling from my limbs for fear of becoming possessed and concentrate instead on the way the tiny hexagon tiles on the walls create a lovely whitewashed honeycomb effect. Better yet, the gla.s.s shelf above the sink is crammed with 'we-can-rebuild-you' mini beauty products.

I grab the bottles of juniper shampoo and matching body lotion and stick my head around the door. 'Is it okay if I use these?'

Joel looks up from unsheathing a black evening suit and grins: 'Knock yourself out!'

I dip back into the bathroom and set the shower running. This is such a bonus. If I had gone with Elliot I'd probably be cowering behind a canvas sheet having the contents of a watering-can emptied over me. I reach around to undo my dress but even backed up into the mirror I can't judge hooks and eyes. Frustration! I twist and arch and even try pulling the skirt part up over my head but then realize the potential horror of getting it stuck above my waist like a giant version of those neck cones people put on dogs to stop them biting themselves. There's only one thing for it call in the experts.

'Um, Joel?'

He looks bemused to still find me dressed.

'Sorry to bother you but could you just help me get this off?' I fl.u.s.ter.

'My pleasure,' he says, striding over and deftly addressing the various zips and poppers. This is not a man who ever struggles with a bra strap, I'm sure.

He catches me looking at him in the bathroom mirror and I blush as I feel the steamy air meet my bare back.

'Okay, that's great. Thanks. I'll be really quick.'

'No rush,' he smiles, waiting for me to resume eye contact with him.

I manage it for just a second before busying myself with the vital task of moving the towels from the rack to the toilet seat and setting them in a symmetrical stack.

'You have fun!' He exits, closing the door behind him.

It's been a while since a man undressed me so I take a moment to lean against the cool gla.s.s of the door. I feel all swimmy and succ.u.mbable, if there is such a word ... Suddenly I leap back as a loud rap jolts my ear.

'Lara?'

I gulp. It's him again. This is more than I can stand. I think it's best if we just get this frisson over and done with before I explode. I prise open the door and give him my most seductive look.

'I found this in the wardrobe.' He hands me a white floor-length bathrobe.

'Oh! Fantastic! Thank you!'

He doesn't want me naked after all. I bury my face in the robe to mask my disappointment.

He smiles into my peeping eyes. 'See you in a while.'

Finally I step into the shower, hoping to wash away the jumpy never-been-kissed imbecile that's taken over my body and liberate Lara the Femme Fatale.

I emerge fifteen minutes later a good deal calmer, buried under acres of robe and wafting juniper from every pore.

'It's a shame this isn't a health spa hotel,' I muse, perching on the end of the bed securing my matching towel turban.

'Feel in need of a little pampering, do you?' Joel ladles on the 'poor baby' mockery.

'No, I was just thinking they let you wear toweling robes to dinner in places like that, don't they?'

Joel contemplates me for a moment then says, 'Well, there is one way you could get away with it.'