“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t put out on first dates.” He winked and picked up her glass, passing it to her.
“I do.” She took a large sip. Richard’s laughter was drowned by the blanket of attraction covering them both. “I’m not sure we’ve ever really made it to a first date, have we?”
He screwed up his face in thought. “Not that I remember.”
“Although you did take me to a restaurant in New York for a date about ten years ago,” Hanna smiled. “I think you introduced me to one of your exes.”
He laughed. “That wasn’t a date.”
“It was!” she protested. “Well, I thought it was. I took you to a concert, you took me out to dinner. It felt like a
date to me.”
“If I took you out for a date, I certainly wouldn’t introduce you to my ex,” he replied pointedly. “I like to think I have more class than that.”
It was Hanna’s turn to laugh. “You’re unbelievable. Your memory is so selective I’m scared you’re losing your mind.” She leaned forward and put her glass down before hitting him on the arm. He grabbed her wrist, his eyes staring down at her hand. He looked at her pointedly, pulling her toward him until their faces were inches away. She blinked twice, her stomach contracting at the intensity of his gaze.
“I remember every single moment with you, Hanna. I remember how young and surprised you looked the first time I saw you, when you were standing next to that god-awful Christmas tree in my father’s house. I remember how your eyes lit up when I saw you in the pub in the Cotswolds, watching some shit band desperate to become world famous.” His lips curled into a smile, only inches away from her own. She was desperate to breach the distance. “I remember the way you looked underneath me, the first time we made love. Your eyes were so bright and wide, and your lips trembled when I moved inside you.” He closed the distance, his breath washing over her skin. “I remember every single, fucking minute, Hanna. That’s what makes me lose my mind.”
Richard crashed his mouth against hers, his hand cupping the back of her head, tipping it back until she was looking up at him. She reached out and placed her hand on his neck, feeling his soft, short hair as it graduated into his neckline.
His tongue danced along her bottom lip. She touched it with her own, feeling it brush against her, then plunge into her mouth. She moaned against him, her eyes shut tight, wanting to feel every part of his body on hers. He pulled her closer until their chests were touching, but it still wasn’t enough, her body demanded more. She clambered over him, straddling his legs, and he cupped her ass, dragging her body against him. Their chests touched, and she arched her back, her nipples singing in response to his proximity.
“Jesus.” He pulled away, eyes gleaming. “I’ve missed you so much.” He moved in again, kissing her hard until they were both breathless. She didn’t want it to end.
“I want you to take me to bed.” She was so desperate to feel him naked against her, on top of her, inside her. It was like her body was awake for the first time in years. She needed to know he felt the same way.
“Hanna…” He kept her close against him, his fingers tangled in her hair. “I want it, too. But we need to take this slowly.”
She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time taking control, easing her tongue into his mouth, grinding herself down on him until she could feel his excitement growing beneath her. He grabbed her behind, standing up and wrapping her legs around his waist, and she threw her arms around his neck, never once breaking their kiss.
“You’ve persuaded me.” He moved his lips against hers. “Fuck taking it slowly.” Striding across the living room, he headed for the door, breaking their kiss so he could look up and find the handle. As he was about to push it down, the telephone in the hall rang, the tone indicating it was the concierge calling.
“Give me a minute.” He placed her gently down, and walked over to the telephone, lifting up the handset. Hanna watched as the intense excitement melted from his features, her body already feeling the absence of his warm embrace.
“Okay, thank you.” He put the receiver back on the cradle with a clatter, running a hand through his messed-up hair as he stared at her apologetically.
“That was the front desk…my mother’s on her way up.”
Twenty Six
June 1st 2012
Richard walked forward and unlatched the lock; the muscles in his back tensing as he pulled the heavy door ajar. The light from the hallway spilled across the wooden floor, and he stepped back to let his mother through.
Caroline Maxwell entered the room wearing a pink chiffon cocktail dress, with a matching wrap draped across her shoulders. She had pulled her blonde hair back from her face with a barrette, revealing smooth features that belied her age. Though Richard had never asked, he assumed some of her yearly vacations involved interactions with scalpels and over-expensive surgeons. She certainly had enough money for it.
Whoever they were, they’d done a good job.
“What is she doing here?” Caroline gestured at Hanna with a manicured hand. Her plump lips pulled back into a scowl, though any accompanying lines were noticeably absent. “Actually, don’t bother to explain; I’ve heard it all from Olivia Vincent. She seemed delighted to tell the whole gala about my new grandson.” She glanced over at Hanna, her nose wrinkled with disdain. “I can’t believe you’re letting Hanna fool you with her white trash lies.”
Richard could feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin, and his face heating up as he stared at her angrily. She held her thin frame tall as if she was the wronged party in all of this, making him want to wring her scrawny neck and scream at her. She needed to know what he’d lost because of her lies. Her calmness only served to irritate him.
“I don’t think you want to start taking the high ground here.” He was unable to hide his bitterness. “Because you’re going to fall.”
Caroline laughed. It was a thin, fragile chuckle, which made him wince. “I have never been so embarrassed in my life.” She pulled at the diamond pendant hanging from her neck. “‘Oh, I hear you’re a grandmamma, Caroline. Didn’t you know Richard and Hanna have a child together? How awful, they’ve kept it a secret.’” Her sarcasm cut through the room like a knife through butter.
Richard reached for Hanna’s hand, not wanting her to be hidden. He wanted her next to him—needed her beside him—to show her he wasn’t ashamed of their relationship. He was proud she wanted to be his.