Read Online Capital Sins by Jane Marciano - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jane Marciano
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but wildly extravagant.'
Philip
flung her a napkin. 'So get stuck in, baby.'
She lowered
her lashes. 'Connie, not baby,' she said demurely, hoping she wasn't offending
him.
'Sorry.
Connie.'
He
proceeded to open a bottle of champagne, cold and sweating straight from the
fridge. 'Want some now?'
' Mmm , yes.'
He poured
the foaming, bubbling liquid into a deep goblet.
'Here's to
you, beauty,' he toasted. 'To an enchanting girl whom I hope
to see a lot more of.'
She raised her glass, clinked it against his, and they drank
deeply.
'Who washes
up afterwards?' she asked innocently a moment later, and he laughed.
'Don't
worry your head about such mundane matters. Just enjoy yourself, baby.'
Connie
didn't bother correcting him again.
'Want the
television on while you eat, or do you prefer to
listen to records?' he asked as she chewed on the snails cautiously and found
the flavour tasty.
She
followed his example and mopped up the garlic sauce with a hunk of French
bread. 'Is it colour?' He nodded. 'Can we watch TV then?'
'At your service.' He pressed a control by his side and the screen lit up into life and
action.
As they
finished their meal, the Hollywood movie they had been watching ended.
'Want to
see more... Connie?' He was careful to call her by her name now.
'I don't
think so.' She stretched back, uncaring if her dress creased, and wished she
could take off her shoes which were hurting, they were so tight. 'J wouldn't
mind listening to some music, though,' she said sleepily.
'Let me
just get rid of these dirty dishes.'
He wheeled
the trolley back into the kitchen and brought a fresh bottle of champagne back
with him.
'Have some
more bubbly,' he offered and Connie willingly held out her glass, realising
that she was getting tipsy, but not caring.
While she
buried her small nose in the gas, Philip went over to the stereo, selected some
records and, as the voice of Lena Horne filled the room, he dimmed the lights by turning a switch on the wall. It was very romantic.
'Come and
sit down here with me.' He held out his hand to her as she settled on a pile of
cushions on the floor.
Without
hesitation, Connie joined him, bringing their drinks with her. Philip stretched
out on his back and Connie lay at right angles to him, her head resting against
his chest. He stroked her hair which covered the top half of his body like a
blanket.
'Isn't this
good?' he said softly. She agreed that it was. Very.
'Cigarette?'
' Uhuh .' The throbbing music seemed to be melting her
bones: the drink made her feel slow and lethargic.
He blew a
smoke ring into the air and she followed it with her eyes. Connie took another
sip of the champagne but, at that angle, it dribbled down her chin. She sat up,
laughing. Philip lazily moved an arm and wiped her throat with his finger.
Lying back, she dragged on her cigarette, and the only sounds to be heard were
the music playing and their relaxed breathing. He shifted his position to get
more comfortable and laid his left arm lightly across her breasts. She let it
remain there.
'Why do all
modem homes only have central heating?' she remarked casualty after a while.
'Wouldn't a hot, roaring log fire look lovely as well; give one something to
look at as well as feel?'
'You're a
romantic,' Philip answered, his fingers beginning to stroke her throat
absent-mindedly.
'I know,
and I'm not ashamed of being one.' She paused, then, 'Philip?'
' Mmm ?'
'Talk to
me.'
'Here we
go,' he drawled. 'OK, what about?'
'You?'
'My pleasure. What would you like to know?'
She
shrugged her shoulder under his moving band. 'Well, for starters, have you ever
been in love?'
Philip chuckled. 'Often.'
'No, seriously.'
'I'm not
joking.'
'A few,' he
admitted.
'Ever liked
one enough to... marry?' she asked hesitantly.
' Mmm .' A non-committal answer.
She moved
suddenly and pinched him. 'You have to reply truthfully!'
He yelped
and caught her hands. 'Christ! Your nails!' Philip
looked into her eyes, frowning
Philip
flung her a napkin. 'So get stuck in, baby.'
She lowered
her lashes. 'Connie, not baby,' she said demurely, hoping she wasn't offending
him.
'Sorry.
Connie.'
He
proceeded to open a bottle of champagne, cold and sweating straight from the
fridge. 'Want some now?'
' Mmm , yes.'
He poured
the foaming, bubbling liquid into a deep goblet.
'Here's to
you, beauty,' he toasted. 'To an enchanting girl whom I hope
to see a lot more of.'
She raised her glass, clinked it against his, and they drank
deeply.
'Who washes
up afterwards?' she asked innocently a moment later, and he laughed.
'Don't
worry your head about such mundane matters. Just enjoy yourself, baby.'
Connie
didn't bother correcting him again.
'Want the
television on while you eat, or do you prefer to
listen to records?' he asked as she chewed on the snails cautiously and found
the flavour tasty.
She
followed his example and mopped up the garlic sauce with a hunk of French
bread. 'Is it colour?' He nodded. 'Can we watch TV then?'
'At your service.' He pressed a control by his side and the screen lit up into life and
action.
As they
finished their meal, the Hollywood movie they had been watching ended.
'Want to
see more... Connie?' He was careful to call her by her name now.
'I don't
think so.' She stretched back, uncaring if her dress creased, and wished she
could take off her shoes which were hurting, they were so tight. 'J wouldn't
mind listening to some music, though,' she said sleepily.
'Let me
just get rid of these dirty dishes.'
He wheeled
the trolley back into the kitchen and brought a fresh bottle of champagne back
with him.
'Have some
more bubbly,' he offered and Connie willingly held out her glass, realising
that she was getting tipsy, but not caring.
While she
buried her small nose in the gas, Philip went over to the stereo, selected some
records and, as the voice of Lena Horne filled the room, he dimmed the lights by turning a switch on the wall. It was very romantic.
'Come and
sit down here with me.' He held out his hand to her as she settled on a pile of
cushions on the floor.
Without
hesitation, Connie joined him, bringing their drinks with her. Philip stretched
out on his back and Connie lay at right angles to him, her head resting against
his chest. He stroked her hair which covered the top half of his body like a
blanket.
'Isn't this
good?' he said softly. She agreed that it was. Very.
'Cigarette?'
' Uhuh .' The throbbing music seemed to be melting her
bones: the drink made her feel slow and lethargic.
He blew a
smoke ring into the air and she followed it with her eyes. Connie took another
sip of the champagne but, at that angle, it dribbled down her chin. She sat up,
laughing. Philip lazily moved an arm and wiped her throat with his finger.
Lying back, she dragged on her cigarette, and the only sounds to be heard were
the music playing and their relaxed breathing. He shifted his position to get
more comfortable and laid his left arm lightly across her breasts. She let it
remain there.
'Why do all
modem homes only have central heating?' she remarked casualty after a while.
'Wouldn't a hot, roaring log fire look lovely as well; give one something to
look at as well as feel?'
'You're a
romantic,' Philip answered, his fingers beginning to stroke her throat
absent-mindedly.
'I know,
and I'm not ashamed of being one.' She paused, then, 'Philip?'
' Mmm ?'
'Talk to
me.'
'Here we
go,' he drawled. 'OK, what about?'
'You?'
'My pleasure. What would you like to know?'
She
shrugged her shoulder under his moving band. 'Well, for starters, have you ever
been in love?'
Philip chuckled. 'Often.'
'No, seriously.'
'I'm not
joking.'
'A few,' he
admitted.
'Ever liked
one enough to... marry?' she asked hesitantly.
' Mmm .' A non-committal answer.
She moved
suddenly and pinched him. 'You have to reply truthfully!'
He yelped
and caught her hands. 'Christ! Your nails!' Philip
looked into her eyes, frowning
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