Everything to Gain and a Secret Affair (52 page)

“Please, let's lie down, Bill.”

Clinging to each other they staggered to the bed. She began to take off her blouse, but he stopped her.

“Let me do it,” he said in a low voice. “I want to undress you. Please, darling.”

She nodded. Her eyes never left his face as he opened her blouse. After slipping it over her shoulders, he began to kiss her neck, her arms, and brought his mouth back to her breast. As his tongue tantalized the nipple, he undid her bra. At last both of her small, rounded
breasts were free and he buried his head between them.

Bill could feel Vanessa's strong hands in his hair, smoothing and stroking, massaging his neck and shoulders. He heard her soft moans as he moved from one breast to the other, tenderly kissing and touching them, inflaming himself as well as her.

After a moment he sat up, looked down at her stretched out on the bed. How exciting she was to him, so vulnerable in her delicate beauty. She wore a lacy, black garter belt and sheer, black stockings. Carefully he undid the suspenders and rolled down each stocking, took off one, then the other. His eyes ravished her body, so trim and lean, yet shapely. Unfastening the garter belt, he slipped it off.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. “I want you,” she said in a husky voice.

He nodded, stood up, threw off his clothes haphazardly, lay down next to her. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her eyes, her lips, her ears. “I want to kiss every part of you,” he whispered against her hair.

“I'd like that,” she murmured.

He slid down the bed, brought his mouth to the core of her. She responded wildly, crying
his name. Her body suddenly convulsed in a spasm, and she grasped his shoulders hard, gasping as she did so.

Before he could stop himself, Bill was astride her, lying on top of her. Both his hands reached up into her dark curls, and he covered her mouth with his, touching his tongue to hers. He needed to take her to him. Now. Without further delay. Bracing his hands on either side of her he raised himself up, stared down into her eyes.

“Yes,” she cried. “Oh, yes, Bill.”

His hands left her hair, moved on to fondle those taut breasts with their erect nipples. He pushed his hands under her back, then her buttocks, lifting her closer to him, fitting her body to his. He was harder than ever and slid inside her easily.

And she welcomed him with her warm and pliant body, cleaving to him, thrusting up to him. She became welded to him. She moved her legs, threw them around his back, as high as they would go, so that he could shaft deeper and deeper into the warm, soft core of her. And they found their own rhythm, moving faster and faster until they were frenzied.

Bill thought his heart was going to burst.
He sank deeper and deeper into her until he was entirely enveloped by her. “Vanessa,” he gasped. “Vanessa.”

“Yes, Bill!” she cried. “Don't stop.”

He brought his mouth to hers again, and holding her tightly in his arms, they came to a climax together, sharing their ecstasy. And their joy in each other was unparalleled.

T
hat was all too quick,” Bill said, encircling her with his arms, pulling her closer to him. “I'm afraid I was overanxious.”

“No, you were wonderful.”

“I've wanted us to be together like this since the other afternoon, when I almost knocked you over.”

“So have I.”

“Really and truly, Vanessa?”

“Yes, honestly.”

He felt her smile against his chest. Before he could stop himself, Bill asked, “Who's Giovanni?”

She swiveled her eyes to look up at him. “How do you know his name?”

“I heard you greet him the other afternoon, just after I'd chased your hat.”

“I see. He's an old friend . . . we met when I was doing my graduate course here. We became close, he helped me in lots of ways.”

“Are you lovers?”

“No.” Vanessa hesitated, then added, “Giovanni lives with someone, has for several years . . . another man.”

“Oh.” Bill cleared his throat, and after a moment he said, “We asked you lots of questions, Frankie and I, but we didn't ask your age, being the gentlemen that we are. But how old are you, actually?”

“Twenty-seven. Soon to be twenty-eight. And you're about thirty-five, aren't you?”

He laughed. “Thanks a lot! And no, I'm thirty-three,” he replied and kissed the top of her head. “You said you were staying another four days. That means you're leaving on Wednesday. Correct?”

“Yes, I have to work at the glass foundry on Monday and Tuesday.”

“Can I see you in the evenings? Can we be together until you leave?”

“Of course, I want that too, Bill.”

“Listen, I'm coming to New York in December. For the Christmas holidays, in fact. Are you going to be around?”

“Yes.” There was a small pause before she continued, “Bill, there's something I must tell you.

He heard an edge in her voice all of a sudden and he frowned. “Go ahead.”

Vanessa took a deep breath and plunged. “I'm married.”

For a moment Bill did not respond, and then he moved up on the pillows.

Vanessa struggled free of his embrace, turned to face him.

They stared at each other intently.

Vanessa saw surprise mingled with hurt on his face.

“Don't be angry with me. Don't look at me like that,” she cried.

“How do you expect me to look, for God's sake? I'm disappointed, Vanessa. You lied to me.”

“No I didn't, we never mentioned my marital status.”

“You lied by omission.”

“What about your private life, Bill? Is there a woman in
your
life? You don't need a piece of paper to make a commitment to someone. Making it legal doesn't necessarily make the bonds any stronger, the attachment greater. Do you live with a woman?”

“No.”

She sighed.

He said, “Do you live with him?”

“Sort of . . .”

“What does that mean?”

“He's away a lot. And I go to my studio in the Hamptons a great deal of the time. I have a barn and a cottage in Southampton. So we're not together often.”

“And when you are? Is it a proper marriage?”

She shrugged.

“Do you sleep with him?” he pressed.

Vanessa did not respond.

“Your silence is golden . . . it means that you do.”

“It's not a good marriage—”

His hard laugh stopped her short. “Ah, the misunderstood married woman!” he exclaimed.

“No, it's not like that!” She leapt off the bed, ran into the bathroom, and came back a moment later wrapped in a terry cloth robe. Seating herself on the edge of the bed, she took hold of his hand.

Bill looked at her, his face taut. He was trying to come to grips with his emotions. After making such passionate love he had been euphoric, a feeling he had long forgotten
existed. And he had felt at ease with this young woman who had come so unexpectedly into his life. He knew he wanted to get to know her better, to spend time with her. Her announcement that she was not free had been a bombshell.

Vanessa exclaimed, “Please, Bill, don't be angry. Let me explain.”

“I'm not angry, and go ahead, be my guest.
Explain
,” he said and there was a sarcastic note in his voice.

Ignoring this, Vanessa said, “Peter's a lawyer, a show-business lawyer and very successful. He's away a lot, mostly in Hollywood. It wasn't like that at first, but his business has grown. And I'm traveling, too. I suppose, in a way, we've grown apart a bit. But he's a good man, and he's been very supportive of me, as I have of him. So we sort of . . . muddle through. It's not a great marriage, but it's not a bad one either.”

“Have you never thought of leaving him?”

She shook her head. “He's a good man, as I just said. I wouldn't want to hurt him.”

“What about you, Vanessa? Aren't you entitled to have a happy relationship with a man?”

“I don't think it's possible to build one's happiness on someone else's unhappiness.”

“I know what you mean.”

“In any case, Peter would fall apart if I left him. I just couldn't have his pain on my conscience.”

“Do you have children?”

“No, sadly we don't.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Four years.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I care about him—” She came to a halt, looked thoughtful, finally confided, “Peter's been in my life for such a long time. We're good friends, and we have a lot in common. He's always encouraged me in my work, my career, never stood in my way. He's a nice person. I like him. I respect him, and I love him. But—”

“You're not in love with him, is that what you're trying to say?”

“Yes.” Vanessa bit her lip and shook her head. “I mean, how could I be here with you like this if I were?”

Bill laid his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. A small sigh escaped, and without opening his eyes, he said softly, “I just wish you'd told me you were married, that's all.”

“I wanted to,” Vanessa said. “I intended to,
and then we started to have such a good time together. I liked you so much. I wanted to be with you, and I just thought you'd lose interest if you knew I had a husband.”

He said slowly, “You should have been straightforward with me.”

“Have
you
been with me?”

He sat up swiftly and stared at her. “Yes, I have. There isn't a woman in my life. You know I'm widowed. My God, the whole world knows I'm widowed. And I haven't had a really good relationship since Sylvie died. Oh, yes, there've been a few women, but I've never fallen in love, or had a meaningful relationship since my wife died six years ago. To tell you the truth, I thought that you and I might have something going for us, that this was the beginning of something special. I want a good relationship, Vanessa, I want to have another chance at happiness.” He shrugged. “I guess I was wrong to think it might be with you.”

Vanessa said nothing, looked down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

The awkward silence grew.

At last she said, “How do you
really
feel about me, Bill? Be scrupulously honest.”

He gave her a hard penetrating stare.
“We've just made passionate love, and you ask me that?” He gave a short laugh, pursed his lips. “Obviously I'm overwhelmingly attracted to you, turned on by you. I enjoyed making love with you. Let's face it, we've just had wonderful sex. I like being with you. I admire your talent. As I told you in the lobby a short while ago, I'm very taken with you, Vanessa.”

“And I am with you, Bill. So much so I haven't really been able to think straight for the last couple of days. All I know is that I just want to be with you. Whenever we can. You're a foreign correspondent, you're obviously going to go back to Bosnia or somewhere else, and I have my own career . . .” She shook her head, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “I thought we would see each other whenever we could, be together as often as possible and . . . see what happens.”

“Let things work themselves out in their own time, is that what you mean?”

“Yes. Whenever my mother was facing difficulties, she would always say to me, ‘Vanny, life takes care of itself and a lot of other things as well. And usually it's for the best.' That's still her philosophy, I think.”

Bill looked at her thoughtfully. “So, what you're saying is that you want to have an affair
with me? A secret affair. Because you don't want your husband to be hurt. Am I correct?”

“It sounds terrible when you put it that way.”

“But it
is
the truth. And as a newsman, I
am
a seeker of truth.”

Vanessa shook her head, biting her lip again. Slowly, tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Oh, for God's sake, don't start crying!” he said, and reached for her, pulled her into his arms. He flicked her tears away with his fingertips, then tilted her face to his. Softly, he kissed her on the mouth.

When he stopped, she said, “Please tell me you're not angry with me, Bill.”

“I'm not angry. Only selfish. I always want things my way, like most men. And listen, you haven't committed a crime. Anyway, why should you stick your neck out for me?” He laughed. “I'm always in harm's way . . . a bad risk.”

“Don't say that!” she cried, her eyes flaring.

Tightening his grip on her, he brought his face closer to hers and whispered, “I
want
to be your lover. Now why don't you take off that robe so that I can start practicing.”