PeakExperience (6 page)

* * * * *

She thought she’d only been asleep for a few minutes, but
the sunlight coming through her lids told her otherwise. She mumbled a protest
at having to get up. It was warm and comfortable under the covers, and she was
pretty certain she needed to get to work, although she couldn’t remember what
day it was. She stretched and opened her eyes, her legs protested with an
unfamiliar soreness.

Which matched the unfamiliar bedroom.

Shit, you have got to be kidding.
She moaned as
clarity arrived, as harsh as the morning sun. Instead of resting briefly she’d
spent the night with a total stranger. A blush warmed her face. Okay, not
exactly a stranger, but a man she’d met the evening before.

And had sex with.

Great sex.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. Oh, this could not be
happening. How was she going to sneak out? The question was followed by
another. Why did the best sex of her life have to happen with a man she planned
never to see again?

“Good morning, Thumbelina.”

She was fully awake in an instant. Her eyes flew open as she
bolted upright, fortunately thinking to take the covers with her, and turned to
stare at the half-naked man sitting next to her. She heard him wrong. “What did
you call me?”

“Thumbelina,” Daniel repeated.

Lena grabbed at the sheets to cover herself more and was
almost doused in the hot coffee Daniel was holding out to her. “Why did you
call me that? No one calls me that except my parents and a few people at the…”

“Summer camp they used to run,” he finished for her.

She looked at him warily, trying to place him beyond the
night before. One-night stands were supposed to be fun, over quickly and
enjoyed with relative strangers. Not that she had a lot of experience with
them, but this was too much familiarity. “Who are you and how do you know my
nickname?”

Chapter Four

He smiled and Lena saw something familiar in the look. “I am
Daniel Royer, which you know from last night, but when I was at Crane Hill Camp
you and everyone else called me Danny.”

Her mind flipped through a catalog of images from past
summers until she arrived at a memory of a quiet boy who hung around her the
year she spent at Crane Hill after her marriage and career as an artist ended.
The boy she remembered was shy, wore glasses and was only an inch to two taller
than she, all long limbs waiting for a growth spurt. “Oh no, you can’t be.” Her
grip on the sheet tightened.

“I assure you I can be and I am.”

“But that would make you…” Her un-caffeinated brain couldn’t
do math this early.

“Twenty-eight. I’m twenty-eight.”

“Dear Lord.” Her head fell into her hand. She thought she
deserved points for not hiding under the covers entirely. All she wanted was a
quick fling and she got a hot artist twelve years younger than her who knew her
years before.
I’ll bet this never happens to Michelle when she meets a new
guy.
How could she be so foolish? Even the characters in her mother’s
children’s books knew rash actions had terrible consequences and there was no
escaping them.

She remembered something. “That’s how you knew my last name
at the gallery. I didn’t tell you.” As her humiliation waned, her anger grew.

“No, you didn’t. I slipped. I hoped you didn’t notice.”

“I didn’t. I blamed it on the alcohol. I thought I told you
and then forgot.” At least her memory wasn’t going, although it was a small
consolation, since memories of last night were all too vivid. A blush started
as she recalled what they shared together, how she allowed herself to get
carried away.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts
and trying again to hand her the coffee. She moved farther away, nearly falling
out of bed in her haste to create some distance between them.

“A problem? Oh no, of course not.” She hoped her sarcasm was
obvious. “Silly me thought for once I enjoyed a meaningless night of great sex,
and instead I’m sitting here naked with a man I not only know but someone I
could have babysat for.”

“I’m glad you thought the sex was great since I didn’t want
it to be meaningless. If it’s any consolation I don’t need a babysitter and you
look beautiful naked. I could do a whole series of pictures of you in sunbeams
and moonbeams.”

“Look, Danny…”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Daniel. Why didn’t you tell me who you were last night?”

“Probably because I didn’t want you to look at me the way
you are now. Once I was certain you didn’t recognize me, or my name, I wanted
you to keep seeing the man, not the kid. I wasn’t expecting us to go to bed
together. Getting coffee would have been fine, until you asked me to kiss you.
Then I didn’t want to stop. You didn’t either.” He leaned forward to touch her.
She pulled back.

“You’re wearing contacts,” she said stupidly, trying to keep
the conversation away from sex.

“Yes, and I’m taller than I was at fifteen. Are you okay?”

“I need to find my clothes and go.”

“I can see you’re finding this is awkward, but don’t leave.
Stay for breakfast and we can talk more. We didn’t have a chance to talk after
leaving the gallery. Have some of your coffee. I guessed cream and sugar since
you enjoyed the sweet drinks last night.”

“Good guess,” she said, feeling a little guilty as she
accepted the mug. She didn’t want to accept anything from him. She took a sip,
careful not to burn her tongue. As the coffee hit her stomach, a thought
occurred to her. “The postcards. You sent them.”

“Yes, I wanted you to come to the opening. I wanted to see
you again, show you how introducing me to photography paid off.”

“How did you know my addresses?”

“Alumni office at the Mass College of Art. I remembered you
went there too.” She nodded. “When I started getting serious about making art
my career I earned my Masters there. It was one of the ways I learned a lot
about,” he ran a hand up her leg, which was sticking out from the covers, “the
body.”

She felt her face flush hotly and a few places on her body
heating more. She couldn’t talk to him and not think of how reckless she’d been
last night. She gave herself a mental shake. She was not staying, not having
something to eat, and definitely not talking about their evening together. She
shouldn’t be here at all.

This was why being in control was smarter. She never should
have let herself give in to instant gratification last night. Yes, he was sexy.
And he made her feel good, wonderful even. Better than anyone had in a very
long time. The way he kissed her and touched her was incredible.

Lena, stop. This is not helping the situation.
She
needed to be reasonable. One of them had to be. Finally, a plan came to her as
she looked at the steam rising from the mug. “Okay, why don’t you make
breakfast while I get dressed, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten
minutes.”

“You get ready fast.”

“It’s not like I have a lot of choices on what to wear this
morning.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Good point. See you in a
bit.” He gave her a soft kiss that made her tingle, despite her best efforts.
His bright smile made her feel worse.

As soon as he was gone, Lena placed the mug on the night
stand and jumped off the bed to look for her clothes. The process wasn’t as
easy as she expected as little-used muscles, sore from the night before,
protested her sudden movements. She found her purse next to the bed and as she
wiggled into her underwear she quietly used her cell phone to call for a taxi.
Shoving the stockings into her bag, she put on her bra and dress, grabbed her
coat, and carried her shoes as she tiptoed out of the room.

Last night she didn’t get a good look at his apartment, but
she was right about the light. The place was bright and spacious. She could
hear classical music coming from the kitchen as Daniel banged around cooking
and whistling. The whistling almost made her go to him to say goodbye, tell him
what a special night it was for her, but she changed her mind. Any boldness
from the night before was gone. No more risks for a while.

After one wrong turn she found the front door, grateful she
didn’t have to get too close to the kitchen. As she reached for the knob she
stopped at the sight of the exhibit poster. That damn phoenix. If it weren’t
for the image, she wouldn’t be here. No, that wasn’t true. It was the
long-dormant feelings the image stirred that were her problem. From here on,
she would listen to her head. It was safer. Without a word she let herself out.

* * * * *

Daniel couldn’t decide if he was furious, surprised or hurt
when he discovered Lena snuck out. A combination passed through him in the
first few minutes, so he did what served him best when creativity didn’t seem
to be an option—he sat and thought things through logically.

Discovering his full identity and his connection to her
past—along with his age—shocked her. Clearly she wasn’t a woman who was used to
one-night stands, and if she was hoping for anonymity in the morning, his
declaration eliminated the option. Perhaps it was more intimacy than she was
expecting or could handle. That sounded plausible.

But damn it, it didn’t make him feel any better.

He walked into his home office and turned on the computer.
As it booted he knew it was pointless. There was nothing he could work on that
would distract him from what happened and what he was feeling. What was he
going to do, sit there and Google her like a love-struck teen? He needed a
better plan.

These were the times he wished for a sister who could guide
him and to whom he could bring his questions. Before he discovered photography
and art, books were his closest companions. He believed in going to experts for
answers, but he had no close women in his life other than Alice, and she wouldn’t
want him distracted by a relationship. He smiled. She was more like a mother
hen then an agent.

He didn’t understand why Lena thought their ages—or his
age—were a problem. He’d dated one or two older women in the last several years
and it wasn’t an issue, although there were more years between him and Lena
than the others. Still, connection was connection and he was convinced Lena
experienced that with him.

Thinking of Lena, Daniel was confident if he used knowledge
combined with the street smarts he’d gained from past relationships, and a
little creativity, he could find a way to connect with her and discover if one
night of magic could be the start of something more. The first thing to do was
find a way to be near her again.

* * * * *

Traffic was so light early Saturday morning and the taxi
drove Lena home quickly, but because of the hour the driver gave her a telling
look, which said he knew exactly why she was overdressed and under made-up. Not
since one drunken night at college had she done the walk of shame. She was too
old for this.

Of course, Daniel wasn’t. This was probably more common for
him given his age. It wasn’t part of her history. She’d had two one-night
stands in her twenties, although they weren’t intended. The men simply never
called her again.

Stepping into her apartment, she dropped her shoes and her
bag by the door, then walked straight to her bedroom and dropped herself on the
bed. Work waited for her, but it would wait a little longer. She needed a long
shower and a few more hours of sleep.

Lena went into her office at two and stayed until nearly
nine, then was back at her desk Sunday morning at ten. With all the hours she
put in, she should have accomplished more, but although her body was in front
of the project she was presenting on Wednesday to their client, her thoughts
kept traveling back to Friday night.

Over and over images of Daniel kissing her, caressing her,
licking her until she came played like an erotic movie in her mind. It was
maddening. She kept telling herself she needed to forget, but clearly the night
meant more to her then she expected. In fact, she found herself wanting him
again, wanting more, and hoping it would be as good—or better—the next time.

“This is not going to get us the final payment of the Jaffe
account or the new clients we need,” she told herself.

“What isn’t?” She jumped, almost spilling her water bottle
and saw one of the members of her team standing in her doorway. “Sorry, didn’t
mean to startle you.”

“My fault, Gary. I’m having trouble staying focused today.”

“Maybe you’re working too hard, Lena. When was the last time
you took off both days of the weekend?”

She looked at him, ready to give a flip answer when she
realized he was right. “Almost two months.”

“Working that many hours is bound to make anyone a little
antsy. Look, I’ve nearly finished putting the packets together for the
presentation and I’m heading home. We’re not flying out until late Tuesday, so
we still have almost two full days to review and double-check everything. Go
home, relax, see a movie.”

She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. They were
gritty. It was good she didn’t have her contacts in. “You’re right. I don’t
have a clue what’s playing.”

“Well, make certain not to forget the relaxing part. You
don’t want to be burned out when you meet with Jaffe and his board.”

“Thanks, I’ll walk out with you.”

When she got home, her first thought was to clean and do
laundry. What a sad statement about her life. Here she was with a night to
herself and she considered doing chores. Appalled, she opened her drawer of
menus, picked the one from her favorite Thai place, called, and gave them her
order. She considered going out, but wasn’t in the mood to dine alone in
public. As she waited for the food to arrive, she opened a bottle of wine,
poured a glass and looked around her apartment.

She bought the two-bedroom condo in Cambridge for its
location. After living here for nearly five years she still loved being near
Harvard and Porter Square and a short “T” ride away from everything in Boston.
However, tonight it looked plain and unadorned. A few of her own
black-and-white photographs were on the wall and the bookcase held framed
candid pictures and trinkets from her travels. Furniture was chosen for
practicality and comfort, but not much more. The only pieces of color were an
overstuffed Victorian floral couch she inherited from her grandmother and an
illustrated family portrait her mother created depicting the five of them as
magical creatures in a wooded glen.