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Chapter 64: Chuckled Comparison.
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Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 65: Sweaty Aftermath.
Quentin took me to dinner at The Ivy Cafe, one of the most popular restaurants in London. The head chef is a friend of Quentin's, so we had a tasting menu prepared especially for us, followed by a magnificent slice of flour-less chocolate cake for dessert, and some very expensive port for Quentin.Elle MacPherson and her husband sauntered in for a late reservation. They sat one table over from us. As we waited for our bill, I caught Quentin inspecting her, and then glancing back to me as if comparing us feature to feature. "What are you thinking?" I asked."You truly are prettier than she. I much prefer your eyes," he said, smiling lovingly at me. I blushed lightly. "You are more handsome than Elle MacPherson's husband too," I replied as I admired his facial features and stared seductively into his eyes. Handsome is the right word for Quentin's look. He reached across the table and put his hand on mine. "What do you say we go back to my place?"Finally, this is the time to find out
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 66: Tranquil Hurdles.
Quentin went to pick up his son, Curt, from his mother's house at Wimbledon. As I waited in his flat, I resisted the strong temptation to snoop through his drawers. In the past, I wouldn't be able to stop myself, but in the past, I think what I wanted was to find some fodder for a fight, a photo of another woman, an old love letter, a condom that predated me. Something or anything to rile me up, fuel my jealous instincts, get my competitive juice flowing. I don't know if my pregnancy has matured me, mellowed me, or simply sapped my strength. I am just enjoying the ease of my new, tranquil relationship. I'm not interested in barriers, only smooth sailing and a happy ending. **********************************Quentin and Curt returned, I stood to greet them, my face stretched out in a huge smile. Curt is adorable—cute enough to be in a Gap ad in his little navy overalls and fire-engine-red turtleneck. I felt my first wave of excitement over having sons instead of daughters."Hi, Curt
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 67: Tears and Compliments.
Quentin invited me to go to the Maldives with him and Curt for Christmas, even offering to buy me a plane ticket."Where is the Maldives exactly?" I asked after rattling my head to figure out where the Maldives is. He gave me a the sort of affectionate gaze Max had given me in the beginning whenever I confessed ignorance. "In the Indian Ocean, darling," he said, stroking my hair. "Think white-sand beaches, crystal-clear water, palm trees swaying in the breeze."As tempting as a vacation in the sun is and as eager as I am to push things even further along with our relationship, I have to decline and give him a tangible excuse. "No, honey," I said, stroking his arms. "I think you need to spend quality time with your son. It's a father-son-time with Curt." "Alright, darling," Quentin said with a worried look on his face. "I'm off to work."I kissed him on his cheek and watched him leave the flat.The truth is, I don't want to level Andrew all by himself in London. He doesn't have the
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 68: The Pink Thong.
Andrew and I woke up and sleepily wished each other "Merry Christmas.""What are we going to do today?" I asked him."We're gonna chef it up," Andrew answered joyously.We had gone grocery-shopping the day before yesterday, and his small English refrigerator is packed to the gills with all of our ingredients. "What else?""Cooking Christmas dinner will take most of the day," he said. "Do you wish that we waited till today to open our gifts?" I asked Andrew. I know that Christmas isn't about presents, but there is always a bit of a letdown when the part the holidays has passed. Although, for once, I enjoyed giving more than recieving."I prefer opening gifts on Christmas Eve," Andrew said. "But, I could give you something else though . . ."I looked at him, and I think my face registered surprise. Is it my imagination or is his tone suggestive? Is Andrew coming on to me? "How about a poem?" Andrew asked innocently."Oh. Yeah. Sure," I said, feeling relieved that I hadn't responded in
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 69: Her Engaged Foe.
I'm playing the role of sous-chef, diligently taking Andrew's instructions. I chopped and peeled vegetables while he focused on the turkey and fancier trimmings. Other than burning my finger in the goose fat when I was removing the parsnips from the oven, everything is going excellently smoothly. Almost like a cooking show, Andrew bragged before we started cooking and now, I understand why he did so—we are doing great!************* ************ ********It started getting dark outside so I went to take a shower. Andrew and I had spent most of the day in our pyjamas, preparing our Christmas dinner. Under the hot water, I allowed myself to revisit the massage he gave me in the morning, marveling that Andrew could make me feel the way he had. What was he thinking when he massaged my back and waist? I got out of the shower, and craned my neck to check out my back in the mirror, feeling relieved that my ass is still sizeable and firm—stretch-mark and cellulite-free. I felt a wave of g
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 70: Goosebumps And Discreet Wishes.
Andrew, Capucine, Quentin and I are doing the whole double-dating thing for the first time on New Year's Eve. Quentin made reservations for us at Gordon Ramsey, the posh, Michelin-starred restaurant at Sloane Square, which is the perfect venue for a special occasion. As we ate, we praised the New French cuisine. Quentin called it "sublime" and Capucine referred to it as a "symphony of flavors." I think both of them sounds a bit pretentious, although it is a fair description of my pot-roasted belly of West Country pork with aubergine caviar, and of Andrew's roast Scottish gray-legged partridge with braised red cabbage—which I tasted more than once.Unfortunately, the interpersonal dynamic didn't live up to the food. The measure of success of any double date is how well the women get along, and Capucine and I just do not jell. On the surface, everything looks pleasant enough. She is extremely nice to me and very easy to talk to, but she came across as condescending. It is almost as i
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 71: Last Pound.
As the winter in London dragged on and my due date neared, Quentin doted on me more and more. It is as if he normally consult every article ever written on how to treat a pregnant woman. He had taken me to fabulous restaurants: Planque, The Clove Club and Petrus. He buys me lavish gifts—Jo Malone bath oils, a Valentino clutch, lingerie from Agent Provocateur—which he normally leaves on the bed and pretend to be just as surprised as I when I'd emerge from the bathroom to discover them. He doesn't fail to reassure me that I am only becoming more beautiful with every passing day. He even insisted that he can't see the zits (or "spots" as he called them) that are frequenting my nose and chin. He always talks about our future and also promised to take me to see exotic places he had traveled to: Botswana, Budapest, Bora Bora. Quentin promised me a wonderful life and makes me feel like a lucky woman. A saved woman. But, as I lay next to him every night, I can't shake the feeling that someth
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 72: Pit in the Stomach.
As I sat with Orla and Meg over tea at Orla's flat, I can't help the pit in my stomach that had returned in full force few days after my conversation with Quentin about my financial situation and how he has taken responsibility for my expenses and I haven't had peace since then. We sat at Orla's small kitchen table, watching Sophie ignore her vast array of toys in favor of pots pans that she scattered all over the kitchen.I confessed my misgivings to Orla and Meg. "I just don't know what's wrong with me. Something is just plaguing me."Orla nodded. "You're just feeling general anxiety over child-birth and motherhood. The whole scary journey ahead. And it can't help watching this!" She pointed at Sophie, rolled her eyes, and laughed."That has to be it," Meg agreed. She had recently announced the wonderful news that she, too, is pregnant. But she is in her very early weeks, with her own set of worries about miscarrying. "There's always something to fret about," she said. "Hmmm," Orl
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