Part 14 (1/2)

”She is rather dominatrix-like.” I tore open another granola bar. Thanks, Mom. ”Who was the first person you actually did it with, though? I mean took it from fantasy to reality.”

”Do you want to hear about how I lost my virginity?”

”Absolutely!”

He picked up the ballpoint pen from beside the phone and twirled it as he spoke. ”I was in a school drama club, which led to me and one of the other students having some private rehearsals, shall we say. Improvisational acting is a typical exercise. We agreed to try an interrogation scene and see where it went. It went... all the way.”

He looked at me, set the pen aside, and crawled over to me, then on top of me to kiss me. ”Fantasies are wonderful. But reality is even better. At least with you.”

”Mmm. I feel the same way.”

He settled beside me, and we soaked up each other's warmth while the hotel AC droned in the background.

”That was just the warm-up question, you know,” I said. ”Like how the s.e.x in the car was the warm-up for what we did on the roof.”

”Aha, that makes perfect sense. What else would you like to know?”

”You've told me a little about your mother, but almost nothing about your father. You've barely mentioned him.”

James nodded. ”I note you've barely mentioned yours, either. Though I doubt we've the same reasons. To this day, I'm not sure who my father was.”

”Really?”

”Truly. My mother had various lovers during my childhood, mostly high-ranking British officials of one sort or another. When I was born she was living in New York, where she was known for entertaining sundry ex-pats, amba.s.sadors, and the like. I am under the impression now that she had been a kept woman, and although the affair had ended, to keep her quiet, whoever it was continued to pay for the apartment.”

”You think that was your father?” I sat up so I could see his face.

”I don't know.” The expression on his face had nothing to do with his father and everything to do with the fact that he was looking at me adoringly. ”When I was about ten, though, we moved back to England, and she's there still.”

”You get very British-sounding whenever you talk about her.”

”As well I might. She would spank me if she heard an American accent coming out of my mouth.”

”No!”

”Yes.” He cracked a mischievous smile. ”So I learned to speak British English at home and in front of her high-ranking guests, and American English with everyone else.”

”Did you go to public school in New York?”

”Goodness, no. It was private academies all the way.” Now his gaze drifted toward the wall, though I don't think he was seeing it at all. ”And I went to boarding school in England.”

”Who's your best guess for who your father was?”

”Well, the man who tried the hardest to act like one moved in when I was about three. I think merely by dint of the fact that he moved in, he felt that made him the man of the house. He was an actor of some repute. I, being a holy terror at that age, thought that I was the man of the house, and refused to submit to his authority. Then again, my mother forbade him to spank me, and now that I think about it, she didn't submit to his authority either.” A sly smile spread across his face. ”In fact, I'm quite certain, thinking back on it now, that if there was anyone doing any submitting, it was him to her. How does the expression go? The acorn doesn't fall far from the oak?”

I shared his smile. ”Do you think she ever went to any of those society parties?”

”If she did, it was only as a guest,” he said. ”Not as a member. The thought did cross my mind and I had them check. Although there are those rare few who feel comfortable flaunting their s.e.xuality in front of their parents... I'm not one of them.”

That provoked a snort of laughter from me. ”Don't you kind of flaunt your s.e.xuality in front of everyone, though? I've seen some of your videos.”

Now he looked at me, his full attention focusing on me. ”That's one of the reasons for the mask,” he said quietly.

”Your mother doesn't know...?”

”No. She knows about the gla.s.s art, but she doesn't know about my music career.” He stood and got a bottle of water, then sat down on the bed to share it with me.

I liked that. Sharing a bottle of water felt perfectly comfortable with him, like the most natural thing in the world.

After I'd had a sip, I said, ”No wonder you don't want to take Ferrara to court.”

”Yes. My name, and my face, would be everywhere. There would be no way to walk through a shopping mall like a normal person. Much less anything...” Rather than finish his sentence, he trailed his hand up the inside of my leg suggestively.

”I see your point.” It was probably easier to keep things a secret from his mother when they had the Atlantic Ocean between them. But Lord Lightning fanatics were everywhere. ”Your mother sounds a bit like the woman my mother wished she could have been.”

”What do you mean by that?”

”Oh, my mother always wanted to be a kept woman, I think. Or at least she thought she did.” I wasn't so sure the experience with Phil Betancourt hadn't changed that. ”But she never quite got what she wanted. Not even in her children.”

”No?”

”She wanted a daughter just like her and she didn't get one. She got a butch lesbian and me. The only reason I wasn't considered a tomboy was that Jill was more of one. By comparison, I was girly. But I never liked pretty dresses. I never liked fussing with my hair and makeup. And I never liked flirting or dating, which was a constant source of angst for my mother when I was growing up.”

”But you do like pretty dresses.” He ran his fingers through my damp hair. ”I think you didn't like being forced to like them.”

”Well, okay, yeah. I didn't like the pressure to be a certain way, act a certain way, and it wasn't until recently I clued in that my discomfort was all about men. Like the only reason to look nice was to attract someone of the male species.”

”Male isn't a species,” he pointed out. ”But I do know what you mean.”

”And the thing was, dressing like that does attract male attention, but not usually from anyone I wanted! I mean, why should I be flirty and cute for the guy in the checkout line or at the gas station, you know? I felt like that attracted creeps.”

”Do you like the kind of attention you get from me?”

”Yes. And like I said, I discovered I like things from you I didn't particularly like from Damon or any other man. But anyway, that's how my mother operates. For her, it's still all about getting a guy. She's good-looking for a woman in her late fifties, but you know, her relentless need to be with someone is what made her vulnerable to this Betancourt character.”

”Karina, may I ask you a question?”

”Of course.”

”You've never said much about your father, either.”

”That isn't a question and there isn't much to say about him, since he left when I was so young. Jill remembers him better.”

He chuckled lightly. ”I'm not that interested in knowing what he was really like. I'd rather know what you think, and how you feel about him.”

”Oh. Well.” I had mostly vague impressions of my father. I remembered photographs of him better than I recalled his actual face now. ”My mother never talked about him. He was away a lot when I was a kid. For work.”

”What did he do?”

”He was some kind of a project manager for a huge construction firm. He was part of a sales and oversight team that would pitch and sell the project and then also be on-site during the construction.”