Hide & Seek - James Patterson [30]
“Excellent. The best words I've heard you speak so far. Now what I'd like, Maggie, what I'd love—would you sing me one of your songs. Any song of your choosing. Right here, just the two of us, would you softly sing a beautiful song just for me?”
It was a beautiful request, and I sang for Patrick.
CHAPTER 30
ONE NIGHT, IT must have been a week or so later, I had a light dinner with Jennie. Around eight, I drove her to her friend Millie’s house where she was having a sleep-over. Then, I went to Patrick’s house for a second meal.
Patrick had excused his “chief cook and bottle-washer” for the evening. He said that he wanted to do the honors: roasted lobster with garlic butter, thickly sliced and crisped french fries, succulent corn on the cob. A simple, satisfying feast.
After dinner, we took a walk on the grounds to a grove of apple trees, at the far end of his estate. There Patrick slid his arm around me and gently kissed the top of my head.
“You smell like orange blossoms. How is that?”
“More like No More Tears shampoo from Johnson and Johnson.”
“Whatever. You smell wonderful.” He kissed both my cheeks, then my forehead, my nose, the tip of my chin. He kissed me on the lips, and I felt his tongue touch mine.
I pulled away. We had kissed before, though I had never really felt his passion; I always drew back. Tonight was different. He kisses absolutely beautifully, I thought. I just felt his heart and I like the feeling.
I felt safe with him. The night wind whispered softly through the grove of trees. He kissed me again, and this time I could feel myself responding.
I can’t shut myself off any longer. I can’t spend my life afraid, even if I am.
“Let’s go inside,” Patrick said. “I slept at your house once. In the den, and without your permission, as you constantly remind me. Will you sleep at my house tonight?”
I turned my body into his, smiling at the two of us. For once, I was happy about one of Jennie’s sleep-overs. “Not in the den, I hope.”
I could feel him grow hard against me. “No,” he whispered. “Come with me. Please. Trust me.”
My reluctance must have been stronger than I imagined, for he had surely sensed it. Trust him. Oh, how I wanted to, yet as we turned toward the house I could see Phillip’s face, feel the menace of him. I shuddered involuntarily. Damn him. We should have pulverized the bones.
“We don’t have to,” Patrick said, reading my fear. “I don’t know everything that happened to you long ago, but we can wait. You’re the first woman who’s meant anything to me in a while. But I want this to be exactly right for both of us.”
He was the most considerate and loving man. I did trust him.
“I want to,” I said, conscious of how tight my throat felt, how cold my skin. “I do, Patrick. Let’s go inside.”
CHAPTER 31
WE WERE UNUSUALLY quiet as we slowly undressed in Patrick’s sprawling, moonlit upstairs bedroom. In the spun-out silence the beat of my heart was electric, loudly amplified. All sorts of questions and self-doubts began circulating through my head. I’m too tall for him. He won’t like me once he really gets to know me. Do I know enough about him? Relax, Maggie. Please, just relax.
He looked wonderful in the moonlight. Hard, working-man’s stomach. Well-muscled legs. Broad chest lightly covered with silver and light-brown hair. Sexy, I thought, and I liked what I was feeling.
Open yourself up to him, Maggie. Don’t be afraid. This time it’s right.
He held me in his arms for the quietest moment, kissing my hair and my neck. He held me as we stood before the moonlit window and waited for me to relax. I sensed that he was willing to wait for a long, long time.
He kissed me again, and I had the feeling that we were falling toward each other. He kissed my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, then both my eyes. Soft, lingering kisses. Finally, I began to kiss him back. I kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his eyes. I continued to fall toward him, at least I had that sense.
“Dear sweet Maggie,” he whispered. He knew that I was still a little afraid. He always knew what I was feeling.