Read Online Three Rivers by Roberta Latow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roberta Latow
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really saw me all those years ago ….
Isabel reached for her coffee and drank the very dregs of it, then swished the remainder of the coffee around in the bottom of the cup. It made little designs on the white inside, and she concentrated on them. She thought of the way it had all ended. She had become pregnant, and he had said that she must do what she wanted, but for his part he could not cope with the problem. He said he would go away for a while and when it was all over and she had solved her problem, he would be back. She solved her problem. The baby was gone, but when he returned, she’d found that her love had gone as well. Isabel remembered the last thing that he said to her: “You’ll never forget me. I changed your life, gave you the world of art, and I loved you and fucked you better than any man ever will.”
Well, he was partially right. They met once after that, in the south of France. He took her to his villa, undressed her and fucked her intermittently all through the night. It was wonderful, but more like rape than lovemaking. In the morning she bathed and dressed. Over breakfast he said he found her sexually as wonderful as ever and was happy that she was back. She said she wasn’t, she had just come for the night; and then she had left him. That was ten years ago, and this was the first time they had met since that night.
A steward came with another small pot of hot coffee; he filled their cups and left. Anthony bent forward and put a peeled lychee nut on the side of the little cup and saucer. “You always did find them sexy to eat,” he said.
He was as handsome as he had ever been. She’d once thought him the most handsome and charming man she had ever known, and so did many other women. And here he was, all these years later, still laying on the charm. Well, she could say one thing for him: If you have been had by Anthony Moressey, you have been had by thebest. He did bring one gift to the women he had: He ruined it for any other charmer. After Anthony the last thing one wanted was to be charmed ever again.
As they sat there sipping the last of the coffee, she watched him covertly. She looked everywhere but in his eyes. He was a big man, six feet two inches tall, wide in the shoulders, but not too narrow in the hips. He had a big handsome head with blond, straight, silky hair worn on the longish side, now mixed with streaks of white, that always fell over one eye and which he constantly pushed back by running his fingers through it. His eyes were of the deepest blue and his large exquisite nose was straight. The dimple on one side of his face, and his mouth and lips, still made Isabel melt. She’d always wanted to kiss that mouth, to hold and suck his lips with her own lips, to run her tongue over them. That is what she always wanted when she looked at his mouth, and that is what she wanted now.
She knew that he had been discreetly watching her all through the supper. Maybe discreetly was not quite the word. It was more like watching her with indifference.
Isabel had decided that she would like to smoke a joint of hashish before the movie. She excused herself and said she would be back in a few minutes, and not to start the movie without her. She went to Sir Alexis’s room and found the lapis lazuli box, took out a joint and lit it. There was a light tap at the door and it made her jump. She asked who it was. It was Gamal wanting to know if Isabel wanted anything. She opened the door and said she would want nothing before morning, and for him to find a chair and go to sleep. He thanked her and said goodnight, and to ring the bell if she wanted anything during the night.
Closing the door, she turned around so her back was against it and drew deeply on her cigarette. For a moment she had thought it might have been Anthony. Oh, how she wanted to get close to him! But obviously he was having none of it. It took only a few puffs on the cigarette before she felt that lovely buzz. She put it
Isabel reached for her coffee and drank the very dregs of it, then swished the remainder of the coffee around in the bottom of the cup. It made little designs on the white inside, and she concentrated on them. She thought of the way it had all ended. She had become pregnant, and he had said that she must do what she wanted, but for his part he could not cope with the problem. He said he would go away for a while and when it was all over and she had solved her problem, he would be back. She solved her problem. The baby was gone, but when he returned, she’d found that her love had gone as well. Isabel remembered the last thing that he said to her: “You’ll never forget me. I changed your life, gave you the world of art, and I loved you and fucked you better than any man ever will.”
Well, he was partially right. They met once after that, in the south of France. He took her to his villa, undressed her and fucked her intermittently all through the night. It was wonderful, but more like rape than lovemaking. In the morning she bathed and dressed. Over breakfast he said he found her sexually as wonderful as ever and was happy that she was back. She said she wasn’t, she had just come for the night; and then she had left him. That was ten years ago, and this was the first time they had met since that night.
A steward came with another small pot of hot coffee; he filled their cups and left. Anthony bent forward and put a peeled lychee nut on the side of the little cup and saucer. “You always did find them sexy to eat,” he said.
He was as handsome as he had ever been. She’d once thought him the most handsome and charming man she had ever known, and so did many other women. And here he was, all these years later, still laying on the charm. Well, she could say one thing for him: If you have been had by Anthony Moressey, you have been had by thebest. He did bring one gift to the women he had: He ruined it for any other charmer. After Anthony the last thing one wanted was to be charmed ever again.
As they sat there sipping the last of the coffee, she watched him covertly. She looked everywhere but in his eyes. He was a big man, six feet two inches tall, wide in the shoulders, but not too narrow in the hips. He had a big handsome head with blond, straight, silky hair worn on the longish side, now mixed with streaks of white, that always fell over one eye and which he constantly pushed back by running his fingers through it. His eyes were of the deepest blue and his large exquisite nose was straight. The dimple on one side of his face, and his mouth and lips, still made Isabel melt. She’d always wanted to kiss that mouth, to hold and suck his lips with her own lips, to run her tongue over them. That is what she always wanted when she looked at his mouth, and that is what she wanted now.
She knew that he had been discreetly watching her all through the supper. Maybe discreetly was not quite the word. It was more like watching her with indifference.
Isabel had decided that she would like to smoke a joint of hashish before the movie. She excused herself and said she would be back in a few minutes, and not to start the movie without her. She went to Sir Alexis’s room and found the lapis lazuli box, took out a joint and lit it. There was a light tap at the door and it made her jump. She asked who it was. It was Gamal wanting to know if Isabel wanted anything. She opened the door and said she would want nothing before morning, and for him to find a chair and go to sleep. He thanked her and said goodnight, and to ring the bell if she wanted anything during the night.
Closing the door, she turned around so her back was against it and drew deeply on her cigarette. For a moment she had thought it might have been Anthony. Oh, how she wanted to get close to him! But obviously he was having none of it. It took only a few puffs on the cigarette before she felt that lovely buzz. She put it