Chapter 27: Beautiful People
Cora stretched, luxuriating in the smoothness of the sheets against her skin. She couldn't deny a sense of triumph. Not so much that she saw Jamie as some kind of conquest. No, more like she'd conquered her own overactive brain. She'd succeeded in giving control to her more primal instincts, at least for a little while.
And it was every bit as good as she'd anticipated.
A saucy smile played across her lips. Cora could still see the afterimage behind her lids when she closed her eyes. A Michelangelo come to life, the way that sculpted torso flexed and moved, each and every time he rocked his hips... Perfect. Or as close to perfection as Cora had yet to experience, outside the realm of fantasy.
She owned that image now, in all its vivid detail. It was hers to keep. She could lock it away in her memory, ready for playback any time she wanted, long after she and Jamie had gone their separate ways.
Even the kissing hadn't ruined it. Nothing like the last time she had kissed someone—that finance bro Penny had set her up with back in NYC. Tonight with Jamie was like kissing another species altogether.
She'd only felt that way about a kiss a few times in her life, in the throes of her deepest crushes. That swept away feeling, with enough lovely chemicals pulsing through her brain to override her hardwired sensory aversions. It was like that with Steven too in the beginning. Delicious while it lasted. But Cora knew too well how the feeling always faded. The initial fire inevitably burnt down. Only in fantasies could a flame burn on forever and never run out of fuel...
Cora sighed, suddenly aware of her current state of undress. Stark naked to be precise, in all her jiggly, cellulite-riddled glory. Not that she disliked her body, but nobody would be carving any marble statues in her honor.
She had no idea where her panties had ended up. The sheer black cover-up lay in a heap on the floor, and her limbs felt too gelatinous to go retrieve it.
She should probably force herself to get up. Jamie had slipped away to the bathroom after they finished, with one last lingering kiss and a few mumbled words that her brain had somehow failed to process. He probably meant that as her cue to vacate the premises and beat a hasty retreat to her own bedroom before he returned.
Cora would have complied, if she hadn't felt too boneless to move. For now, she lay contemplating the possible location of her panties, fishing around for them beneath the covers with one toe, until the creak of the bathroom door heralded Jamie's return.
He turned off the bedroom's overhead light switch as he re-entered. Only the bedside wall sconces cast the interior in a dim glow. He had donned his nightly bedtime uniform: a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. And, in true gentlemanly fashion, he came bearing gifts. A washcloth dangled from his hands, along with a broken-in white t-shirt from his suitcase. These items he offered up for her consideration as he eased beneath the covers by her side.
"If you want it," he murmured off-handedly, when she held up the t-shirt for inspection. "More comfortable than the back of my tuxedo coat, I imagine."
It looked big enough to fit her loosely, although a tad threadbare around the collar with a hole starting to form along the shoulder seam. Cora held it to her nose and touched the fabric to her cheek. Clean and fresh, the fibers soft from countless cycles through the wash. It didn't strike her as the kind of garment someone like Jamie would ever wear himself. Did he carry it in his luggage for this exact purpose? The thought amused her for some reason. How many others had he offered this same t-shirt, after he had finished liquifying their entire musculoskeletal system?
Cora slipped it on over her head.
"So," Jamie adopted the brisk tone of a tour director, "Some beautiful people like to cuddle afterward, and some don't like to be touched. Which type are you?"
Cora hoped the dim light would hide her blush. He was mocking her, ever-so-gently, for her ridiculous request, uttered in a moment of breathless abandon. "I just want to do it like the beautiful people do..." A funny joke on his part to include her in that category, when they both knew she was nothing of the sort.
"Cuddle," she said softly.
"Good answer." He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
Not a good answer. Not at all. A terrible idea, cuddling. She should have scurried away to the safety of her room while she had the chance. She could practically hear the excess serotonin and oxytocin sloshing around in her brain, and extended skin-to-skin contact wouldn't help.
She was here for a fling, not a love story. She needed to avoid any undue sense of pair-bonding.
But he felt so nice and solid, the way he had in the hammock earlier. She let him draw her toward his chest. His eyes were hooded, lost in shadow, and Cora felt a momentary panic that he might kiss her again. She averted her face.
"Just cuddling," she said. "No—no more kissing."
"I wouldn't dare." She snuck another glance at him, but he only wore a look of bland indifference. "May I ask if I'm allowed to speak now, or is that still forbidden as well?"
Cora buried her face in his shoulder to conceal her sheepish smile. Her behavior from before—shushing him, undressing him, demanding action instead of words—she couldn't believe she'd been so bold.
It had worked though. The results spoke for themselves. She should be bold more often.
She adopted a more authoritative tone. "You're allowed to talk. In fact, you have an explanation you owe me."
"Do I?"
"Don't play dumb, Doctor Bowen." She poked him in the ribs. "I know better now."
Jamie ignored her prodding. He rolled onto his back, with one arm loose around her waist and the other tucked behind his head. For a long moment, he looked straight up at the ceiling. He blinked. His Adam's apple bobbed. His chest rose and fell, and rose and fell again. Cora waited, not sure what it meant or how to read him.
"Right-o," he said at last, as if reaching a decision. He stretched sideways. Before she could react, he flicked off the wall switch by his side of the bed, casting the room into total darkness. "Truth or Dare for Cowards," he announced. "Round Three."
He'd let go of her in order to reach the light. The combination of the darkness and the loss of contact left Cora unmoored. A sudden sense of falling overtook her, and she let out a gasp as she flailed to catch herself.
It was only in her head of course. A bit of sensory integration gone amiss. Jamie caught her knuckles on what must have been his chin because she heard the distinctive sound of clattering teeth. "Oof!"
"Oh gosh! Sorry!" She flailed some more in a useless attempt to undo the damage, but he took hold of her firmly by the wrist and guided her hand away from his face.
"Did I hurt you?"
"Yes," he answered in that dry tone he always used when he was teasing her. "But how fascinating for the viewing public when I turn up bloodied and battered in the morning. They'll wonder what mischief we got up to. A freak hammock accident, perhaps?"
"Oh no! Are you bleeding?"
"Never you mind. Roll over this way—" he directed her movements as if leading her in a dance. Cora ended up lying on her side with her errant limbs turned safely away from him. He spooned her from behind in the same position he had held her the night before. Safe and secure, with his chest at her back and his arms bracketing her waist like a life jacket. She folded her forearms against his. "That's better," he murmured in her ear.
Despite her night-blindness, Cora craned around in the direction of his voice. "You're not actually bleeding, are you?"
He guided her tentative fingers to his lips and she traced them lightly. Dry and smooth. They moved, and she pulled her hand away.
"No," he confirmed. "Entirely bloodless. But that's question number one for you. My turn."
"What! That wasn't—"
"My question for you," he said, speaking over her. "Do you always require a doctoral degree as a prerequisite to kiss someone?"
Cora bit her lip. "It isn't like that."
"I only ask because I seem to recall some fuss being made about boundaries the past few nights."
Cora closed her eyes. She could see how her stance on kissing might seem arbitrary. She would have to explain herself. She didn't have much choice if she intended to stay here beyond this one final night.
And she didn't want to contemplate the idea of leaving in the morning. Not if staying meant more of the lovely feeling she currently enjoyed. Logically, she knew she had intended to cut her stay in paradise short, but she couldn't remember a single reason why.
No, to hell with scurrying away like a scared little mouse with its tail between its legs. She should be bold. Say yes to whatever the universe sent her way! Wasn't that the philosophy that got her here? She never should have doubted it. The universe, in its infinite wisdom, had led her past the jagged rocks to this warm lagoon where she floated now. Safe and sound, anchored by an absolute dream of a man. The abs of a Michelangelo... Skin as smooth as silk... And that delicious voice in the darkness, discussing art and literature and metaphysics while she drifted off to sleep.
Almost too good to be true.
Which reminded her, he had promised to explain the facts printed on those cards. She'd waited all day long to question him. He was trying to change the subject again and make her talk about herself, but she wouldn't let him get away with it. Not this time.
She jostled him with her elbow. "I'd be happy to answer your question," she told him tartly. "Just as soon as you stop stalling and explain why you've been lying to me this whole time."
"Lying?"
"Yes, lying."
"And what lies have I told?"
Cora thought a moment, scanning her memory for evidence of how he'd led her to a false impression. "Lies of omission," she said at last. "Big wide gaping chasms of omission."
"I'm an open book," he replied. "You only have to ask."
"Fine. I'm asking."
"Asking what?"
"Stop stalling and explain yourself!"
"What would you like to know?" There was laughter in his voice now. He was playing games with her and he knew it. He might end up bloodied after all if he kept it up.
Cora couldn't see a blessed thing, but she could picture the bemused expression he must have on his face. She narrowed her eyes and glared sternly into the darkness. "Despite your sneaky ways, I now know three definite things about you: your father was a British spy, you're an absurdly good skier, and you have a PhD in comparative literature and film."
"Indeed. Was there a question in there somewhere?"
Cora ignored this and continued musing aloud. "Everything else is suspect. I have no way of confirming anything you say. Are you even a model in real life?" He was silent, so she went on. "I guessed you were a model when I first met you. Just based on how you looked. And you allowed me to form that impression, but I don't actually know. You could have been messing with me all along..."
Her voice trailed off, and he spoke at last. "Do you want me to be a model in real life?"
"I want the truth!"
She could feel him smile, his lips pressed behind her ear. "Are you one of those heathens who prefer nonfiction over fiction?" His shoulders shuddered. "I'm not sure we're compatible in that case."
Cora was running out of patience. He was trying to make her dizzy, talking in circles, but she wouldn't let him get away with it. "I told you my story last night," she admonished. "Your turn now. It's only fair."
"We beautiful people don't belabor the truth."
"You're so annoying!"
Jamie laughed. "I'm only giving you what you want."
"I want the—"
"No," he interrupted. "Not the truth. You want a fantasy. A break from reality. A nice little vacation. Am I wrong?"
"You're the one who suggested Truth or Dare. Why bother if you won't give me a straight answer."
"Truth or dare for cowards," he corrected. "Emphasis on the latter."
Cora shook her head. She wouldn't let him get away with it. He couldn't change the rules arbitrarily from one night to the next. "You told me you'd give me the truth here at night in the dark, as long as we're away from the cameras. You gave me your word as a gentleman."
"To which you reminded me that I'm not a gentleman. I only play one on TV."
Cora let out a huff. "Where did you get your PhD? What university?"
"Guess."
"Oxford?"
"Excellent."
"Is that true though?"
"If you want it to be."
Cora rolled her eyes.
He laughed. "It's for the best, my sweet. You don't want to fall in love with me by accident. You can't, if you don't know who I am."
Cora turned in his arms. She pressed against his abdomen, hard as stone. She might have pummeled him with her fists if he hadn't held her close against him.
He must have sensed her at her breaking point. His hold relented slightly. "Yes, I'm a model," he said gently. "Does that add to the appeal or not?"
Cora shrugged. "I could take it or leave it. The abs are a nice perk."
"The abs are real."
He flexed by way of demonstration. She refused to get distracted, but her fingers disobeyed the order to hold still. They couldn't resist the temptation to explore.
She balled them into fists and turned her back to him again. Jamie gathered her against his chest all the same. His forearms locked around her waist, and Cora realized she was in the same position where she'd started. Safe and sound.
She let out a long, slow breath. "And Oxford?"
Jamie bent his head and smiled in her hair. "Indeed."
"For real?"
"If it means I can kiss you again tomorrow."
A sound emanated from the back of Cora's throat that could only be described as a growl. "I don't kiss people who annoy me."
He soothed her, rubbing circles with his palms against her hips. "Forget the truth. Don't you see? We can be whoever we want, for as long as we're here together. And in the end, we'll go back to our real lives, no worse for the wear. No real feelings involved. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Maybe it was, come to think of it. Exactly what she wanted. Cora felt confused.
He was only messing with her. Why, she wasn't sure. Maybe some British sense of modesty? Or maybe he just liked playing games.
But Cora was no fool. He could play all he liked. She knew the facts printed on those cards. She held fast to them, as surely as she clung to Jamie's arms, to keep her bearings in the darkness, vast and deep.
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