Lydia was too transfixed on Milan’s own famous hands to reply. The fingers that plucked the strings were stroking her knuckles. She never wanted it to end.
“Why do you play, Lydia?” he asked softly.
“Because I must,” she said without thinking.
“Exactly. Exactly so.”
He nodded at her, approving of the sentiment.
“I think we’ll work well together.” He dropped her hands abruptly so that they fell to the table with a thunk. “Drink your wine. I will buy you dinner. Is a nice place around the corner.”
Chapter Three
The meal seemed to Lydia to pass in a golden haze. Buoyed by the wine and the intoxication of Milan’s attention, she floated through two hours that passed like minutes. Milan wanted to know every detail of her musical education and tastes; then he moved on to more personal matters.
“Have you ever been in love?” he asked, while they waited for the bill.
She drummed her fingertips on the rim of her empty glass, knowing she was heading for dangerous rocks, but powerless to steer her craft away from them.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“So that’s a no.” Milan tutted. “You would know if you had.”
“I suppose.”
“So who was the lucky man?”
“Wha—?”
“Your first. Your first lover. Was he worthy of you?”
“I don’t know!”
“You don’t know who your first lover was? Lydia, I did not think you were such a bad girl!”
“No, no, the worthy thing. For God’s sake, Milan! Of course I know who it was. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not with him any more. That all ended ages ago.”
“He wasn’t worthy of you, then.”
“He was all right!”
“Don’t tell me he was all right. I am jealous of him.”
“Oh, you’re not!”
“I am.”
A waiter appeared and Milan turned his attention to paying the bill, leaving Lydia to try to focus her eyes and pour a deep drink from the water jug.
“I like the way you say my name,” he said, whirling back to her before she was ready. “Say it again.”
“Milan. I didn’t even realise it was a name until I heard of you. Thought it was an Italian city.”
“I think it is Czech version of Miles. I don’t know. I like Lydia. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
The waiter brought their coats, and Milan helped Lydia into hers again, though this time he lingered over the buttons, breathing into her ear as he fastened them from behind.
Lydia swayed on unsteady feet, leaning back into Milan’s welcoming body. He made a sound, between a growl and a sigh, that travelled straight down her ear and into her crotch.