Read Online Gemini Heat by Portia Da Costa - Free Book Online
Authors: Portia Da Costa
Tags: Erótica, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romantic Erotica, Romantic, British & Irish
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'You also said there'd be no-one from your section there, so it didn't matter that you'd given your ticket away!' Deana felt indignant herself now. If Delia was going to take on about this, she had to understand it was partially her own fault. If she'd had the good sense to attend the exhibition herself instead of going out with Mr Yukky Russell, the whole situation wouldn't have arisen.
Suddenly, Deana felt almost queazy. If Delia had gone to the art gallery, she'd have been the one on the balcony with Jake! 'What ifs' and consequences began to stack up like cards, and on top of them all was the realisation that Delia had now met Jake.
'What did he say? Did you tell him? What did he say about us being twins?' said Deana.
'Not much. No. Nothing.'
'What are you on about, Delia? What do you mean?' The dizzy feeling came back and Deana gulped down more wine, trying to wash away her forebodings.
'Just what I said.' Delia's voice was odd; she sounded as confused and disorientated as Deana felt. 'He didn't say a very great deal. And because I didn't get chance to tell him we were twins, he doesn't know.'
The bottle was empty now, so Deana twisted a corner of her towel nervously instead of drinking, aware that although the heat was steadily increasing, she suddenly felt cold and shivery.
'So he thinks it was you he had last night?'
'Yes.'
'Delia Ferraro?'
'He calls us "Dee".'
'And did he . . . Was he?'
How to ask? What to ask? A man had come into her life last night and changed her in a way she was hard pressed to describe. She'd been given a glimpse of a whole new sensuality and then had it snatched away just as quickly. But now there was a chance again. A backwards-about-chance, fraught with complications and pitfalls.
'What did he say about the sex?' Deana blurted out at last.
Delia's face was a picture. In spite of everything, Deana's fingers itched for a pencil to capture such a subtle combination of emotions. Her sister was confused, yes, but also full of excitement, mischief and wonder. Her anger was still there, but fading now; replaced by a curious complicity.
'Well,' Delia said at last, 'he's a man of action, isn't he? Not words . . .'
Deana felt her own emotions surge and swirl and rise up to choke her. 'The randy bastard!' she cried. 'He's had you, too, hasn't he?.' She couldn't properly tell whether she felt jealousy or admiration. And if it was admiration, was it for this potent, beautiful, philandering de Guile? Or was it for her cautious, self-possessed sister, who'd done something utterly disgraceful at last? Good grief, it was only just after midday. They'd have to have done it at the office!
Suddenly the two Ferraros were hugging each other and sobbing in a huge, cathartic release of tension. Firing garbled questions at each other, still faintly, mutually jealous, but more than anything, excited. They'd shared boyfriends in their teens, and played tricks on those boys, swapped places without telling them. They'd made up their own private game and seen just how long a swain could be hoodwinked into believing there was just one girl . . .
But this was the first time in their adult life that they'd shared a man - and the first time ever that they'd both had that same man as a lover. To Deana it felt like a bizarre but strangely apposite rite of passage.
'What are we going to do?' she asked when they'd settled down and - in an unprecendented move for her - Delia had shucked off her severe jacket and was curled up on the sofa with her skirt all scrunched and her bosom half revealed by an extravagant yellow silk camisole.
'I don't quite know,' replied Delia, absentmindedly fiddling with a shoulder strap, 'but whatever we do, we've got to make a decision by tonight.'
'Why?'
'Jake's coming to collect "Dee" at eight.'
'Oh hell!'
'Quite!'
'You want him as much as I do, don't you?' Deana said quietly, knowing she didn't really have to ask. The twin sitting with her was a brand new Delia, a
'You also said there'd be no-one from your section there, so it didn't matter that you'd given your ticket away!' Deana felt indignant herself now. If Delia was going to take on about this, she had to understand it was partially her own fault. If she'd had the good sense to attend the exhibition herself instead of going out with Mr Yukky Russell, the whole situation wouldn't have arisen.
Suddenly, Deana felt almost queazy. If Delia had gone to the art gallery, she'd have been the one on the balcony with Jake! 'What ifs' and consequences began to stack up like cards, and on top of them all was the realisation that Delia had now met Jake.
'What did he say? Did you tell him? What did he say about us being twins?' said Deana.
'Not much. No. Nothing.'
'What are you on about, Delia? What do you mean?' The dizzy feeling came back and Deana gulped down more wine, trying to wash away her forebodings.
'Just what I said.' Delia's voice was odd; she sounded as confused and disorientated as Deana felt. 'He didn't say a very great deal. And because I didn't get chance to tell him we were twins, he doesn't know.'
The bottle was empty now, so Deana twisted a corner of her towel nervously instead of drinking, aware that although the heat was steadily increasing, she suddenly felt cold and shivery.
'So he thinks it was you he had last night?'
'Yes.'
'Delia Ferraro?'
'He calls us "Dee".'
'And did he . . . Was he?'
How to ask? What to ask? A man had come into her life last night and changed her in a way she was hard pressed to describe. She'd been given a glimpse of a whole new sensuality and then had it snatched away just as quickly. But now there was a chance again. A backwards-about-chance, fraught with complications and pitfalls.
'What did he say about the sex?' Deana blurted out at last.
Delia's face was a picture. In spite of everything, Deana's fingers itched for a pencil to capture such a subtle combination of emotions. Her sister was confused, yes, but also full of excitement, mischief and wonder. Her anger was still there, but fading now; replaced by a curious complicity.
'Well,' Delia said at last, 'he's a man of action, isn't he? Not words . . .'
Deana felt her own emotions surge and swirl and rise up to choke her. 'The randy bastard!' she cried. 'He's had you, too, hasn't he?.' She couldn't properly tell whether she felt jealousy or admiration. And if it was admiration, was it for this potent, beautiful, philandering de Guile? Or was it for her cautious, self-possessed sister, who'd done something utterly disgraceful at last? Good grief, it was only just after midday. They'd have to have done it at the office!
Suddenly the two Ferraros were hugging each other and sobbing in a huge, cathartic release of tension. Firing garbled questions at each other, still faintly, mutually jealous, but more than anything, excited. They'd shared boyfriends in their teens, and played tricks on those boys, swapped places without telling them. They'd made up their own private game and seen just how long a swain could be hoodwinked into believing there was just one girl . . .
But this was the first time in their adult life that they'd shared a man - and the first time ever that they'd both had that same man as a lover. To Deana it felt like a bizarre but strangely apposite rite of passage.
'What are we going to do?' she asked when they'd settled down and - in an unprecendented move for her - Delia had shucked off her severe jacket and was curled up on the sofa with her skirt all scrunched and her bosom half revealed by an extravagant yellow silk camisole.
'I don't quite know,' replied Delia, absentmindedly fiddling with a shoulder strap, 'but whatever we do, we've got to make a decision by tonight.'
'Why?'
'Jake's coming to collect "Dee" at eight.'
'Oh hell!'
'Quite!'
'You want him as much as I do, don't you?' Deana said quietly, knowing she didn't really have to ask. The twin sitting with her was a brand new Delia, a
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