Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes (2 page)

“Damn! Daniel’s going to kill
me.”

Helen knew she had burnt the
dessert before she even got to the oven. The faint smell of
chargrilled spiced-apple fruit cake clashed with the sickly scent
of lilies. Carefully placing the dishes in a stack on top of the
dishwasher, Helen rushed as fast as her dress would allow over to
the oven. She could see her reflection peering anxiously back at
her from the glass door as she prayed the smell was caused by some
unseen food residue. It was a vain hope, the oven was always
spotless; Daniel’s
über
-efficient cleaner
made sure of that.

Helen opened the oven door with
the caution of a bomb-disposal expert, remembering at the last
minute to pull her head back away from the whoosh of steam. She’d
lost many a layer of make-up in an impromptu sauna and she didn’t
want to exacerbate Daniel’s wrath by returning to the dining room
with a shiny face and tendrils of frizzy copper hair curling down
her neck.

Sliding the burnt fruit cake on
to the granite worktop, as if tender care now would make up for not
saving it from the flames earlier, Helen surveyed the cremated
dessert and found herself fighting back tears.

“Come on, girl, you can’t cry
over cake! Pull yourself together and deal with it.”

Helen thought of Georgina
raising her plucked eyebrows at her and felt her knees wobble. Even
though this dinner party was no different to a hundred she’d
managed for Daniel before, somehow this evening she felt like a
contestant on MasterChef, with John and Greg frowning and breathing
down her neck.

Fighting a strong desire to
sob, Helen stood still for a moment and concentrated on breathing
slowly. It took several long breaths before a semblance of calm
descended.

“I must be due.”

As she uttered the words Helen
became aware that she did feel tender and sore. “Great! That’s all
I need!”

She glared at the fruit cake as
if it was entirely to blame for her monthly cycle and the hormones
that accompanied it. “If I’d known, I’d have prepared a
cheesecake!”

Her brain churned furiously,
considering what was available in Daniel’s ill-stocked kitchen. She
caught sight of the bottle of brandy waiting to be carried through
after dinner. She knew there was some custard powder in the
cupboard from last Christmas, when she had tried to instil some
festive cheer. A brandy sauce would disguise any slight charred
flavour. It wasn’t very chic, but if she put the cake in cubes on a
plate and drizzled the sauce in a decorative pattern Daniel
wouldn’t notice. He never ate dessert.

Ten minutes later Helen felt
able to hold her head high as she pushed through the small trolley
Daniel had thoughtfully bought, loaded with plates of spiced-apple
cake covered in steaming sauce.

If Daniel thought it wasn’t up
to her usual standard he showed no sign; he merely glanced up at
Helen and gave a slight nod to indicate it was all right for her to
serve the dessert course.

Helen loved the sound of brandy
sloshing into a glass; it was the signal that dinner was almost at
an end. As the guests poured themselves generous measures of amber
liquid, before wandering towards the lounge area to have more
informal conversation, Helen took the opportunity to clear the
table. It made Daniel happy to have the flat back to its pristine
state as quickly as possible.

Helen’s ears were buzzing by
the time she entered the kitchen and closed the door. Kicking off
her heels, she pressed her feet into the cool tiles. Even through
her stockings it felt glorious.

I am definitely due
, she
thought irritably, as she loaded the dishwasher.
Either that or
I’m worried about tomorrow.

Trying to shrug off the heavy
feelings, Helen set the dishwasher to come on after the guests had
left and headed back in to join the others.

“Helen, a wonderful dinner,
thank you!”

Helen blushed at the unexpected
compliment and felt her tummy flutter. She smiled warmly at Daniel
who looked slightly bemused. Realising it was one of his colleagues
who had spoken, Helen turned towards him, the smile glued in place
on her face.

“My pleasure, Mike, I’m glad
you enjoyed it.”

“You’re too good for Daniel
darling.” He looked her up and down, his inspection making Helen’s
palms itch. She smoothed them against her dress and gritted her
teeth behind her smiling lips. Mike’s words seemed to finally
attract Daniel’s attention. He walked over to Helen and draped a
heavy arm around her shoulders.

“Down boy, this one’s
taken.”

Helen reached up to clasp
Daniel’s hand but he had already dropped it down to her waist,
pulling her in close. Helen felt her body respond to the contact as
a throbbing sensation tugged at her attention.

Down girl. Later.

Helen wrapped her arms around
Daniel’s waist as the door clicked shut behind the last guest.

“That went well.”

“Hmmm.” Daniel’s response was
muffled as he began to nuzzle Helen’s neck.

“That IT lady’s a bit
spiky.”

“Uh-huh.” Daniel’s kisses moved
to Helen’s collarbone, sending shivers all the way down to her
knickers. She inhaled and gave in to the sensation. Daniel clearly
wanted their normal dinner-party debrief to be post-coital. Right
now he had other sorts of briefs on his mind and that was just fine
with her. She inhaled the heady mixture of aftershave and brandy
and felt her head spin. Helen licked her lips then lifted Daniel’s
head up until they were face-to-face. She looked into his slightly
bloodshot eyes then licked her lips again, enjoying the way his
eyes widened in anticipation. Pressing her lips against his, she
reached a hand down across the front of his trousers and giggled
into the kiss at his instant response.

Daniel slowly guided Helen
backwards while his hands roved over the sheer-tight dress. Helen
wished she had dimmed the lights, as Daniel’s motion took them into
the dining area. She was about to suggest it when they stopped
abruptly as her bottom bumped into the dining table, thankfully
cleared of the detritus of dinner.
Sod it; he’s seen my
cellulite before. Not that I think he’ll notice.

Daniel murmured something that
might have been a compliment as he skimmed his hands over the front
of Helen’s dress.
Or is he asking where the zip is?
Helen
guided him to the side and Daniel pulled at the zip, his
drunkenness causing him to fumble. Helen resisted the urge to help
him, her need becoming as urgent as his. Instead she ran her hands
over his chest before pulling at the buttons of his shirt.

Abandoning the zip Daniel
pulled the dress up to Helen’s waist and lifted her onto the table,
pausing to run his hands appreciatively over the lace stocking tops
she had worn purely for this moment.
Now, oh please, now.
Helen tried to communicate silently to Daniel that taking her on
the table would be very welcome. He wasn’t one for chatting during
sex so she bucked up into him. She guessed he hadn’t had the
forethought to acquire adequate protection as instead he sank to
his knees, pulling down the slip of lace that barred his way.
Oh
yes, good boy.
Helen grabbed his hair and gave herself up to
the moment.

As she came in a shuddering
sigh, Helen resisted the urge to slide off the table to the floor.
She knew Daniel would expect reciprocal behaviour and he had
certainly earned it. Lacing her fingers through his, slippery with
sweat, she led him to the leather sofa. Gazing up into his eyes
Helen gave a smile and was rewarded by a look of desire that made
her knees wobble. Helen stopped at the foot of the sofa and began
kissing down Daniel’s chest, stopping at the belt to slowly remove
his trousers. She gave a quick suck before pushing him down to lie
on his back. He looked up with glazed eyes as she unpinned her
hair, letting the heavy copper locks fall around her shoulders. She
then slowly removed her dress and bra, leaving the stockings
because she knew the feel of them would drive him wild. Casually
Helen straddled Daniel, enjoying the power of his anticipation.

As she lowered herself down to
take him in her mouth, Daniel’s quiet sigh filled Helen with
warmth. She never ceased to revel in her ability to give him
pleasure. However much he acted in charge both in and out of the
bedroom, Helen always knew their relationship was equal because she
was able to make him moan.

Helen lay in the dark unsure
what had woken her until the sound of traffic seeped into her
consciousness.
That’s not right
. Looking for the familiar
green numbers of the bedside clock it was a while before she
realised why they weren’t there. Instead of being snug under a
duvet she was lying naked on the leather sofa, half numb from the
weight of Daniel on top of her.

She turned to look at the
mantel clock above the gas-flame fireplace.
2 a.m.
She
groaned then held her breath, listening intently in case she had
woken Daniel.

Bugger, I’ve got a shoot
tomorrow. Make that today.

She turned awkwardly under
Daniel’s heavy body. Cooled sweat made them stick together like
cellophane and welded her buttocks to the leather sofa. Daniel had
sobered enough to locate a condom, and his celebration of the
success of the dinner party had gone on for some time.

Helen winced slightly as she
eased her fiancé’s sleeping form off her. She felt unusually tender
and was thankful that her period hadn’t yet come.

Daniel would have been a
grumpy bear if I’d refused him this evening
.

He always celebrated his
business successes in the same fashion, as if the act of winning
was the most powerful aphrodisiac. Helen thought of her orgasms and
her cheeks lifted into a grin.

Not that I mind.

She stood silently observing
Daniel’s naked body to ensure she hadn’t disturbed him. The sight
caused dormant embers to smoulder within her and she turned to find
a blanket to throw over him.

Honestly, girl, you’re
insatiable. You need sleep. Daniel’s work may have been this
evening, but yours is in the morning.

She hadn’t told Daniel about
the shoot, she didn’t want to confess until she was sure something
would come of it.

No point getting into
discussion yet.
Helen stared at her reflection as she brushed
her teeth.
No harm that he thinks you spend a ridiculous amount
of time in the gym; it’s what he expected you to do when you left
work to be his hostess. Why shatter his illusion if it makes him
happy?

Making Daniel happy made her
happy, particularly if it manifested itself in the way it had this
evening.

She surveyed her dishevelled
image and gave a little wink before heading into the bedroom. She
should probably rouse Daniel and get him to bed, but she would wake
before he did in the morning and there was time enough then to
pretend she had also spent the night on the sofa. She loved living
with him but she did miss her own space at times, particularly as
their lives were so entwined.

Enjoying the luxury of lying
spread-eagled and alone in the king-size bed Helen gazed blindly at
the dark ceiling, thinking about the shoot.

I hope it goes well. It has
to go well; my whole future depends on it. Not just my career but
my marriage. I am going to go loopy if I spend the next forty years
being Mrs Hostess.
The thought gave rise to a fluttery panic.
Worried the adrenalin would prevent her from sleeping, she pushed
the thoughts aside.
If I turn up half asleep Derek is going to
skin me alive.
She pushed away the image of Derek frowning that
seemed to keep morphing into Daniel and closed her eyes, praying
for sleep to come.

Chapter
Two

It felt like she had slept for
five minutes when the alarm tore through her scattered dreams,
dragging her to consciousness with a thudding heart. Moving
swiftly, Helen silenced it before it could irritate Daniel, who
hated to be woken before noon after a business dinner. Lying still
in the echoing silence listening for evidence that she had
disturbed him Helen became aware of the empty space beside her and
remembered guiltily that she had left Daniel sleeping naked on the
sofa.

Padding silently through to the
kitchen, she fired up the coffee machine and munched through a
croissant while she waited for it to perform its magic. Daniel was
likely to be hung-over and Helen didn’t want to be around after she
woke him, particularly not when he realised he wasn’t in bed.

Best to be dressed and ready
to scarper
, she thought, creeping quietly back to their room to
pull some clothes on before waking him with the aromatic black
liquid. She toyed briefly with the idea of leaving him asleep but
she knew he’d be cross if he woke alone laid out naked in the
lounge. Better to take the few moments of grump and hope he had
calmed down by the time she returned in the afternoon.

Her stuff was all packed and
tucked into the hall cupboard in a rucksack she had purchased
specifically. Without deliberately keeping secrets from Daniel she
let him believe the bag held her gym kit. He liked to think of her
spending hours on the treadmill keeping her body lithe enough to
squeeze into the tiny dresses he insisted on her wearing for his
dinner parties. And of course keeping fit for the celebrations
afterwards.

Helen wrenched her mind away
from the image of her toned body straddling Daniel’s. There was no
time for shenanigans this morning and already she could feel the
stirrings of lust. It was ridiculous how much she fancied the man
snoring gently in the next room

Helen gulped down the last of
her coffee, tidied her breakfast plate away into the dishwasher and
wiped the breakfast bar. Pushing back her shoulders she took a deep
breath and headed into the lounge, espresso in hand.