your migraine.”
CHAPTER SIX
Rafi gazed at the fiery jewels laid out on the counter, and realized he was in over his head.
Granted, the impulse had been a vague one. Emeralds. Green fire, like the depths of her eyes. Beyond that he had no idea.
He had a few pieces of his mother’s jewelry, but it was nothing like what American women wore. The gold was heavy, so pure a man could mark it with his teeth. Nevertheless, he imagined it on Lauren, how it would look against her creamy skin.
Another time, perhaps.
“Earrings are always a good choice.”
The saleswoman was kind. She no doubt assisted bewildered suitors all the time. The store was an expensive one, the best he knew. He had the money, from his savings. But it was risky. Something too fine, too much, would perhaps frighten her away.
More than anything he feared her contempt. The way she lay in his arms after they made love, it was easy to imagine they’d been created for each other alone. Their breath shared a rhythm, their hands found each other and twined together.
But he knew he did not mean to her what she had come to mean to him. He had proved a suitable distraction, but there were other men, with accomplishments to their name, with silver in their hair to match their platinum credit cards.
“And how does she wear her hair?” the saleswoman prodded gently.
Rafi returned to the present. “Up, sometimes,” he said, motioning clumsily. “But when it is down, it curls, like so, around her face.”
“Ah,” the woman smiled, betraying no judgment of his inept description. “These are classic.”
She lifted from the counter an emerald stone, cut in a many-faceted rectangle, set in simple gold prongs. As she turned it in the light, the stone flashed brilliant rays around the room.
“Yes,” Rafi agreed. “Those. I’ll take them.”
They were beautiful, but it was as much to end this uncomfortable quest as to select the specific earrings that he decided. He counted out bills, leaned against the counter with his arms folded as she wrapped the gift.
It was time to be decisive, he thought, as he left the store and joined the anonymous flow of downtown commuters pouring from high-rise buildings. For better or worse, he had to find out how this affair would end.
#
Lauren had almost stopped hoping when her cell phone rang while she was at work. It was Thursday, after all, and three entire days had passed since the trip to Racine.
She colored. Who was the woman she had become on that ride, demanding and claiming pleasure so selfishly, so insistently?
Rafi had been shocked, it was obvious. And why wouldn’t he be? She’d practically forced herself upon him after he’d already pleasured her, demanded that he make love to her.
But if she were to be honest, it hadn’t been lovemaking she was after. It had only been sex. Raw, animal sex. The thought made her cringe, but what else could she call it? Other, crude, words ran through her mind, and Lauren pressed her palms against her ears as though to drown them out.
There was no denying them, however. She had taken him inside her like an animal in heat, and what was he to make of her behavior? It had been obvious he had not expected it of her. Had he sensed her desperation, the end of a long dry spell, the salve for all those bloodless couplings with Philip? Was it pity that drove him? She knew there was a stereotype, older women longing for one last fling before accepting the onset of matronhood. Maybe she had become that without even realizing it. Was that what passed through his mind afterwards, as he dressed?
She’d busied herself with trying to fix her own appearance. Rafi, thankfully, had slipped out of the car and bid good-bye to the other drivers, letting the screen down only as they drove from Milwaukee to O’Hare. He did not invite her to join him in the front seat.
It was no wonder.
She’d replayed the scene a dozen times in her mind, wishing she could re-write history,
CHAPTER SIX
Rafi gazed at the fiery jewels laid out on the counter, and realized he was in over his head.
Granted, the impulse had been a vague one. Emeralds. Green fire, like the depths of her eyes. Beyond that he had no idea.
He had a few pieces of his mother’s jewelry, but it was nothing like what American women wore. The gold was heavy, so pure a man could mark it with his teeth. Nevertheless, he imagined it on Lauren, how it would look against her creamy skin.
Another time, perhaps.
“Earrings are always a good choice.”
The saleswoman was kind. She no doubt assisted bewildered suitors all the time. The store was an expensive one, the best he knew. He had the money, from his savings. But it was risky. Something too fine, too much, would perhaps frighten her away.
More than anything he feared her contempt. The way she lay in his arms after they made love, it was easy to imagine they’d been created for each other alone. Their breath shared a rhythm, their hands found each other and twined together.
But he knew he did not mean to her what she had come to mean to him. He had proved a suitable distraction, but there were other men, with accomplishments to their name, with silver in their hair to match their platinum credit cards.
“And how does she wear her hair?” the saleswoman prodded gently.
Rafi returned to the present. “Up, sometimes,” he said, motioning clumsily. “But when it is down, it curls, like so, around her face.”
“Ah,” the woman smiled, betraying no judgment of his inept description. “These are classic.”
She lifted from the counter an emerald stone, cut in a many-faceted rectangle, set in simple gold prongs. As she turned it in the light, the stone flashed brilliant rays around the room.
“Yes,” Rafi agreed. “Those. I’ll take them.”
They were beautiful, but it was as much to end this uncomfortable quest as to select the specific earrings that he decided. He counted out bills, leaned against the counter with his arms folded as she wrapped the gift.
It was time to be decisive, he thought, as he left the store and joined the anonymous flow of downtown commuters pouring from high-rise buildings. For better or worse, he had to find out how this affair would end.
#
Lauren had almost stopped hoping when her cell phone rang while she was at work. It was Thursday, after all, and three entire days had passed since the trip to Racine.
She colored. Who was the woman she had become on that ride, demanding and claiming pleasure so selfishly, so insistently?
Rafi had been shocked, it was obvious. And why wouldn’t he be? She’d practically forced herself upon him after he’d already pleasured her, demanded that he make love to her.
But if she were to be honest, it hadn’t been lovemaking she was after. It had only been sex. Raw, animal sex. The thought made her cringe, but what else could she call it? Other, crude, words ran through her mind, and Lauren pressed her palms against her ears as though to drown them out.
There was no denying them, however. She had taken him inside her like an animal in heat, and what was he to make of her behavior? It had been obvious he had not expected it of her. Had he sensed her desperation, the end of a long dry spell, the salve for all those bloodless couplings with Philip? Was it pity that drove him? She knew there was a stereotype, older women longing for one last fling before accepting the onset of matronhood. Maybe she had become that without even realizing it. Was that what passed through his mind afterwards, as he dressed?
She’d busied herself with trying to fix her own appearance. Rafi, thankfully, had slipped out of the car and bid good-bye to the other drivers, letting the screen down only as they drove from Milwaukee to O’Hare. He did not invite her to join him in the front seat.
It was no wonder.
She’d replayed the scene a dozen times in her mind, wishing she could re-write history,
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