Her Hungry Heart (38 page)

‘But in the flesh?’ he asked, teasing her.

She had the good grace to blush. Then she said, ‘Photo. I don’t believe this!’ Removing his arm from her shoulder,
she walked quickly to a worn, leather-covered wing chair. From the table next to it she searched a pile of books and withdrew one. She returned to him and placed it on the desk where he was standing. His face looked up at them from the dust-jacket.

‘Alexander Janacek! I must be mad. You’ve never left my heart and yet I never made the connection that you could possibly be this Alexander Janacek.’

‘Oh.’ That was all he could manage to say. He was too overjoyed. She had declared herself. She had been carrying him in her heart.

Mimi turned the book over and studied the photograph of him on the back. A black and white close up of his attractive and intelligent face with sexy eyes that twinkled back at her. She looked from the photograph into those eyes. Mimi smiled. ‘I’ve not read it. I only just received it for Christmas. It’s had rave reviews. My husband is in publishing.’

‘Oh.’

‘He tried to buy your book. It seems everyone tried to buy your book. I don’t understand, Jay must know who you are, I can’t believe he didn’t trap you into a literary conversation.’

‘I never gave him my name.’

Mimi began to laugh. ‘Whyever not?’

‘He didn’t ask me.’

‘Alexander, I think I’m confused. He invited you into the house, but never asked your name?’

He sat on the edge of the desk. ‘May I smoke? It’s a dreadful habit but it’s one I don’t intend to break. I enjoy my cigarettes too much. But I can resist, if you’d prefer I didn’t smoke in this room.’

‘Smoke if you must,’ she told him.

He drew a Gauloise from a packet in his pocket and placed it between his lips. From another pocket he pulled out a tiny box of matches. He lowered his eyes as he struck
the match. His lashes were long and thick, his movements lazy, laid-back. There was something fiercely sensual in them.

‘I arrived at your door on an impulse. I am not normally an impulsive man. I agonized these last ten days in New York about coming. But I had to. You see, I still believe we are destined to be together. In a few days’ time we will have a new man at the helm in Czechoslovakia. Come back with me, stand with us during this momentous election. We can’t lose. We have the taste of freedom again. There are new beginnings. Come home, Mimi.

‘That’s why I came to your door, to ask you just that. One of your sons let me in. I said I was looking for you, your father had been a friend to us, and that I had met you in Prague. He asked me to wait and led me down to the kitchen where I was introduced to your husband as a man from Prague, a friend of the family. I began to protest, but somehow between my protestations and your husband’s hospitality, introductions were lost.’

Mimi began to laugh. ‘Jay will be furious. If he had known your name, he would have signed you by now to a two-book deal at the very least. You have taken literary New York by storm with this book. How have you managed to slip into the city for ten days and escape my husband and the book-hounds?’

‘Quite simple. Only my agent knew I was here and we held most of our meetings in my room at the Algonquin.’

‘Some people think it the most sensitive and beautiful erotic novel ever written. Literary erotica is almost unheard of. My husband says, one day, with a body of work behind you you will win the Nobel Prize for Literature.’

‘He flatters me. And he underestimates Swedish prudery. Will you come to Prague with me for these next momentous days in our history?’

They stared into each other’s eyes. Alexander could only guess how long they remained that way, facing each other,
locked in a gaze that transfixed their emotions. Things were happening to him. It was seeing her again after such a long time. Loving her, as he had done from afar since their few hours together at the funeral, was one thing. But loving her where he could reach out and touch her was another. She had that fatal feminine charm over which chivalrous men in times past had duelled at dawn. Everything physical about her – her hair, her eyes, the smiling, sensuous lips, the slim body with large breasts, the way she moved with a hungry sensual fire kept in check, her elegance, the tone of her skin, and her hands with long tapering fingers – was perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment. Was he hoping that she would vanish, having seen her once again? Had the apparition of love he had conjured up gone?

Slowly he opened his eyes. She was still there. He ground out his cigarette in a glass ashtray and took the few steps that separated them. He slipped one arm around her, the other over her shoulder. He gently clasped the back of her head and drew her slowly, sensually, into his arms.

He told her, ‘You are the most dangerous woman I have ever met.’ Then he placed his lips lightly on hers. He felt the flesh of those lips he had dreamed about, so soft and succulent, and pressed his kiss harder. He felt her lips tremble. He could feel her breasts against his chest, the warmth of her body against his. He pressed more strongly, until her lips parted ever so slightly. With pointed tongue he licked the underside of her upper lip, then sucked it lightly, sweetly, and then the lower one. Once more he kissed her. He felt her give way, trembling in his arms. He realized he too was trembling. He knew she was his. But he knew also that he was an intruder in her house. That she was not free, and until she was, would not return to Prague with him. He could not bear her to reject him. He knew instinctively what he must do.

Mimi thought she would swoon, so exciting was his kiss, so strong his yearning for her. One moment he was there
and nothing else in the world mattered. The next, before she realized what was happening, he was gone. He had gathered up his hat, coat and scarf, and was gone from the room before she could recover herself.

When she did regain her equilibrium she went after him. She ran from the library into the hall, resplendent with Christmas decorations, to see the entrance hall door of glass and ironwork close, a silhouette descending the steps and disappearing against the background of falling snow. Mimi nearly ran after him. She had her hand on the large, decorative bronze and wrought-iron handle of the door, but her feet didn’t move. She was too overwhelmed to do anything. She felt pressured as never before. No kiss in her entire life had inspired in her the feeling of love evoked by his. It was as if the sun broke through a great cloud that had been her life. It warmed her as almost no other love had. It was an erotic kiss, which reached down into her soul. She felt something for this man, this near stranger, that she had rarely felt for any other human being. It was all the love she had felt for her father when a child before the war, all the love and passion she shared with Rick. All this, yet more.

Mimi’s hand was flat against the cold glass of the door. She watched the snow. She felt beyond life again. He loved her. This sensitive intellectual who had recently swept the literary world with his genius, loved her, had chosen her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘Mimi?’

Jay’s voice was drawing her back, away from the warmth of that special romantic love that moved her so deeply. She resisted him for as long as she could, trying to retain Alexander’s kiss, his passionate desire for her. Jay turned her around to face him. He took her hands in his.

‘You’re ice cold.’ He went through the motions of rubbing warmth back into them.

‘A nice guy. I presume he’s gone?’

‘Yes.’

Jay did not miss the faraway look in her eyes.

‘Another conquest, Mimi? Another admirer?’

She could not at that moment cope with his teasing. Reluctantly she told him, ‘Yes, I do believe he is.’

‘I could tell the moment you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. He was lost to your charms.’

‘Jay, don’t be a prick!’

He began to laugh. ‘Just teasing.’

‘No, you weren’t.’

‘You know, Mimi, the older you get, the more like Karel you become. Women swarmed around him even in his old age. Men cluster around you, it seems, the more so as you get older. That fatal Stefanik charm. Men are enslaved by you. You’re like a siren. One look and they’re castaways for life.’

She began to laugh. ‘You do exaggerate. You don’t look like a castaway to me, Jay.’

‘Oh, but I am, beached on your stony heart. But I don’t suppose he came here on Christmas Day to confess his undying love. At least, not yet.’

Mimi smiled at his sheer wrongness, took it that she was amused and was flattered.

‘Jay, you’re going to hate yourself when I tell you who that man was.’

‘Oh?’

‘That was Alexander Janacek.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He began to laugh. ‘It’s impossible. If Alexander Janacek were in New York, I can tell you I would have known it. So would anyone who counts in publishing. I would have recognized him, for a start.’

‘Then why didn’t you?’ What she wanted to say was, ‘Jay, that was Alexander Janacek and he loves me, he has a passion for me. You don’t recognize anything.’

‘Mimi, you’re not serious. You’re just doing this to tease me, to annoy me because we lost him to another publishing house in the auction for his book. You are teasing me?’

‘Whyever didn’t you ask him his name, Jay?’

‘I just thought he was another of those Czech dissidents your father gave haven to. Tell me it wasn’t Janacek. Tell me it wasn’t.’

‘It was, Jay.’

‘Where is he staying?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How long is he here for?’

‘He’s leaving tomorrow.’

‘What did he want with you? You’ve got to get him back.’

‘If I talk to him …’

Jay, taking off at a tangent, interrupted her: ‘I’m sure I’d be able to make some deal with him for the future. I must talk to him, Mimi. We might have a Nobel Prize winner here. I want him for my firm.’ He stopped. Composing himself, he asked her yet again, ‘It’s not true, is it?’ And began to laugh. ‘You got me there for a while. Whatever made you make that up? Now who is he really?’

‘One of the new Czech breed who thought I might like to be in Prague for the elections in a few days’ time.’

‘God, what a relief. You would have ruined my Christmas Day. I swear, if I thought Janacek was in New York, I would search every hotel until I found him.’

She began to laugh again.

‘You’re a cruel woman, Mimi.’ He put his arms around her. ‘A terrible tease. Come on downstairs. We’re playing Christmas charades.’

‘I’ll follow you. I need a few minutes in the library. I won’t be long.’

She returned to the library. It still held the aroma of strong French tobacco. She sat down in the chair and thought about this startling man. Is it true, she wondered, that it can take only a minute, not even a minute, a moment, to fall in love? She felt happy, so very happy. Was this really happening to her, and in middle age? Romantic love was for the movies, for other people, for those possessed by
fantasy. He wouldn’t be there yet, she would call him later at the Algonquin – at least she knew where he was staying. To say what? She had no clear idea. Just to hear his voice at least once more seemed all important to Mimi. That was it. She wanted that.

But she did not call the Algonquin. Hesitation, interruptions by the children, then charades took over. Too much mirth, an excess of champagne … When she finally found time, and all hesitation had vanished, it was much too late. The moment had passed. She knew that and pacified herself by rationalizing: time enough to call him in the morning. She went to bed and fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

Jay was gone when she awakened. There was a note pinned on his pillow.

Mimi smiled. She sat up in bed, her head full of Alexander’s love, his sexuality, the delights of erotic intercourse. She could hardly put out of her mind his sensual kiss, his tongue teasing between her lips, his hands caressing her. A shiver of delight passed through her body. She felt electrified at the thought of a sensuous life with Alexander. She reached for the telephone and called the Algonquin. They claimed he wasn’t there. She insisted he was, until they admitted that he had been there but had checked out an hour before.

Mimi could hardly believe it; she had been so sure she would hear his voice, that there was something real and special in store for them. Her disappointment hurt. ‘Well, that’s that,’ she said aloud. She left the warmth of her bed, opened the curtains and looked down into the garden. It
was cold and she wanted it to be fresh, with green leaves and flowers everywhere. Fate had stepped in, the timing was off, this wasn’t meant to be. With such thoughts she strove to put him firmly out of her mind. In spite of her disillusion, he had instilled in Mimi such optimism, such a renewed alertness to the sensual, she could hardly allow herself to wallow in self-pity. He had left her feeling marvellous: she was not going to turn her back on what he had given her. There were things to be done. But this time differently.

All her life Mimi had slipped into doing things for her survival. It was the pattern of her life, a blueprint first laid down by her father: she had learned well how to follow it. After her father there had always been strangers who, out of kindness towards a displaced child, indicated a path for her to follow. She had learned to accommodate herself to the demands of survival, to enjoy each day with the best of what she had been given. As Mimi had lived her entire life that way, she assumed everyone else did. Only with maturity and seeing her own children and Jay’s grow up did she realize that sometimes you leap chasms, take chances, plump for adventure, live spontaneously without survival in mind. Risk itself may be a pleasurable experience.

Alexander Janacek and his declaration of love came to mind. Why hadn’t she rushed out into the snow after him? She felt something for him, something very special. Why was she so slow to react? Why had he run away? What did he mean, that she was a dangerous woman? Why had she waited so long that morning to call his hotel? All those questions she intended to answer.