He’d moved in to sit beside her.
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ he said, sounding resigned. ‘Go, Izzie, you’re right. I’ve nothing to offer you.’
He had something to offer her, she thought, a moment of yearning in her heart. He had. But he was still married to someone else, still involved with someone else because of their children. Why couldn’t this be easy?
Joe was off the banquette and on his feet in one fluid gesture. He moved with such elegance, he was comfortable in his own skin.
When she’d woken up that morning with their dinner ahead of her, Izzie had decided that she wanted to feel that skin naked against hers. She wasn’t a silk underwear sort of woman. She did simple black, white or nude briefs and bras. No frills or lace. Until some invisible magnet had drawn her into Bloomingdales and the lingerie department where she’d gone crazy, doing more damage to her credit card bill. She could feel the results of that craziness, soft and very different under her clothes.
Going to bed with him now, the first and last time, was a strange idea. Yet maybe not. If she could have him, feel him touching her just one time, then perhaps she could leave. Like immunotherapy: one touch and she’d be for ever immune to him. Her heart would send out little antibodies so she wouldn’t want him again.
An anti-Joe shot.
Izzie closed her eyes.
‘Do you want to go?’ he asked. Softer, definitely.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘No.’ Low with wanting her.
‘Really?’
‘Really. I wanted to be honest with you, but when I met you, I knew you wouldn’t see me again if I told you how it really was. It’s over with me and Elizabeth, I promise. But I didn’t think you’d believe me, not at first.’
She kept her eyes closed and thought about his wife, Elizabeth, and the sons, the duplex in Vail, the listing in Fortune, the assistant’s assistant, all the things that were making this impossible. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him, that face she felt as if she’d known in another lifetime because how could you commit someone’s face to memory in such a short time? Reincarnation made sense suddenly. She and Joe had known each other in another life, for sure.
Perhaps he was meant to come into her life sooner, but he was here now. He was the one, she knew it.
‘I don’t want to go.’
He didn’t sit beside her: he bent and took her head in his hands, fingers cradling her skull with passion and gentleness, and crushed her mouth to his. She was just as ferocious, hands digging into his shoulders, dragging him down to her. This was what they hadn’t done, this type of kissing. They’d been so careful, dancing around it, both knowing that if they touched, properly, then there would be no going back.
Izzie moaned, knowing she was lost.
They pulled apart, two sets of bruised lips, two pairs of eyes black with desire.
‘Let’s go,’ Izzie said.
There was a car waiting outside the bar for him: a discreet Town car that smoothly drove up as soon as Joe raised his finger. It was always a different driver, Izzie realised, as he helped her into the leather backseat. Someone like Joe would absolutely have a regular driver, but that driver would know his wife, run errands for her, take the kids to school.
He couldn’t risk that driver seeing her again after the Plaza lunch. She was a guilty secret, to be hidden until it was all sorted out with his wife, the wife who didn’t want it to be over. Izzie, who’d never been hidden in her life and who’d often longed to be small for a day just for the experience, forced herself to brush the thought away. She was a secret. So what? It wouldn’t be for long, just long enough for Joe to end what was already over.
In her apartment, she didn’t think twice about saying, ‘I bet you didn’t know they made apartments in this size, huh?’
‘I didn’t come for the real estate,’ he said.
‘What did you come here for?’ she said.
‘For this.’ With one effortless move, his arms were around her waist, crushing her tightly against him. Izzie felt the surge of being plugged into some heavenly mains supply and with her back against the wall, she hungrily pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. His face was hard but his lips were soft, melting into hers, consuming her. Izzie flowed into the kiss, then suddenly pulled back.
She wanted to be in charge, in control for a moment, to show him that she would not be messed around with. She shoved him until he was against the facing wall, and she was on her toes, reaching and kissing.
‘Me first,’ he murmured, wrenching his mouth away. Her hands were behind her back, pinioned at the wrist with one of his big hands, the other cradling her head as he kissed her. He half carried her against his body until she was at the other wall again.
‘Rough stuff?’ she gasped, struggling to free her hands.
‘No,’ he said, stopping to stroke her cheek tenderly. ‘Never. I don’t want to hurt you, but I want you under me. Does that make me a Neanderthal in these sexually enlightened times?’
Izzie laughed. She took his hand and led him into the tiny living room. ‘I’m the sort of girl who goes on top.’
He hauled her close again. ‘Maybe the second time,’ he growled.
‘I’m not like other women,’ Izzie said. Still in his embrace, she managed to unwind her scarf and unbutton her coat. He ripped his coat off.
‘Never thought you were.’
‘So don’t tell me what to do or what not to do,’ she added.
‘Not even in bed?’
He was pulling his knotted tie loose and the sight of this normally buttoned-up businessman turning primeval made her weak at the knees.
‘Maybe in bed,’ Izzie teased, slipping her fingers down to untie the ribbons of her blouse. A complicated thing made of navy polka dot silk and laced up the front, it was the sort of garment that begged to be torn off. Joe’s eyes darkly followed her fingers as they loosened the navy ribbons.
‘I hope it’s not expensive,’ he said heavily, grabbing her again and pulling at the ribbons urgently, ripping the fragile fabric. Her full mouth caught his again, hot breath and hot tongues melding. He tasted like more. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone before.
Izzie felt every nerve ending on fire with desire. Her nipples were hard buds of lust and underneath her sedate pencil skirt she could feel her skin burning in its silken lingerie, wild to be set free and naked.
‘I can afford a new one,’ said Izzie, which wasn’t true, but now wasn’t the time to split dollars.
‘Good.’
He’d pulled the blouse apart, and his hands and mouth were roaming the soft skin of her breasts, kissing, licking and then sucking. Then his hands slid under the pencil skirt and his fingers cupped her pubic bone, making her feel the moisture pooling inside her.
Izzie groaned with pleasure. If this was her vaccination, then she wanted it to go on for a very long time.
She hadn’t shut the drapes and afterwards the lights of the city provided a gentle illumination for their crumpled bed. Joe lay propped up on her pillows, the sheets reaching up the muscled tan of his waist. Izzie lay on her side, head on her elbow, not quite looking