Lovers in Their Fashion Read Free Page A

Then I go on to Rio.’
    ‘Ah, Rio. A beautiful city.’
    ‘And how about you?’
    ‘Oh, I have a twenty-four hour layover in New York. Then back to London. And after that, Prague.’
    ‘Busy life.’
    ‘It is. We stay in the Hemsley on Park Lane when we’re in New York.’
    ‘I don’t know it.’
    ‘It’s a nice hotel. We could radio ahead and get your reservation transferred there, if you like.’ She stared into John’s eyes, and now the promise was clear. John noted the clear blue eyes and flawless complexion. Her blouse buttoned to the throat in the airline’s manner but two buttons were undone – accidentally? As she leaned forward, speaking with that confidential air, he caught a glimpse of lace beneath the soft material. The trace of perfume was stronger now.
    ‘That would be good,’ he found himself staying. ‘If you could.’ He was aware that his voice had become deeper, more guttural. He gave the name of his own hotel.
    ‘I’ll make the arrangements,’ she said, smiling. As she walked away her hips swayed enticingly under the severe blue skirt.
    When she returned a little later to serve his dinner she bent forward to whisper. ‘Your booking has been transferred, Mister Pagan.’
    ‘John, please.’
    ‘Not until I’m off duty. I’m Cathy, by the way.’ She smiled. ‘But you can see that from my name tag.’
    A fter dinner, John moved the back of his seat towards the horizontal. He always found sleeping difficult on a plane, and vivid dreams came during the uneasily snatched rest. Memories of Alice vied with glimpses of Cathy performing a striptease, rotating her hips suggestively as she slowly peeled off her uniform.
    He was woken by the pilot’s announcement that they would shortly be starting the descent into Kennedy airport and found that he was visibly aroused. Cathy, standing over him to ask him to raise the seat to its normal position for landing, let her eyes go to the evidence of his excitement. She showed the tip of her moist, pink tongue, then ran it slowly around her lips.
    ‘You’ll be at the hotel before me,’ she said. ‘Leave it to me to make contact.’
    W hen John reached the Hemsley he found he had been allocated a double room overlooking the park. He showered, shaved and donned one of the two bathrobes that hung in the bathroom.
    He studied the room service menu, then picked up the phone and ordered a cold lobster mayonnaise salad for two and a bottle of Krug. They were delivered twenty minutes later, and five minutes after that there was a gentle knock on his bedroom door.
    Cathy smiled approvingly at his robe, and even more so when she saw the waiting supper. ‘I need a shower,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you pour the champagne and bring it in to me?’
    John did as she suggested. When he carried the two glasses into the bathroom Cathy was already out of her skirt and blouse and was peeling down her dark tights. There was, John realized, something immensely sexy about a woman in uniform – and even more so as she removed it.
    ‘I hate tights,’ Cathy said. ‘Nasty, sexless artefacts.’ She took the glass from his hand, kissing him on the lips as she did so.
    ‘You prefer suspender belts?’ he asked.
    She shook her head.
    ‘Bare legs?’
    ‘Oh, no. Too cold except in the height of summer.’
    John was puzzled. ‘What then?’
    ‘Wait till tomorrow,’ she smiled. ‘You’ll have every opportunity to find out then.’ She placed her glass on the vanity, drew the shower curtain, turned on the shower and stepped into the cascading water. John sat and watched her through the translucent material.
    ‘It’s so good to wash away the day,’ she said. Then, ‘Are you married?’
    He was startled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not married.’
    Something in his voice must have alerted her. ‘But there’s someone?’
    John sighed. ‘No. There isn’t anyone.’
    She turned off the shower and drew back the curtain. ‘I wouldn’t mind, you know. But I do want