Page 40 of Good Girl
Before I can summon the courage to question him about it, he gives me a terse sort of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and backs away. ‘I’ll leave you to choose your dress,’ he says. And then he’s gone.
I tell myself I’m being overly sensitive. Why on earth would he suddenly be acting strangely about being friends after this? That would be ridiculous. Surely?
As I look through the rail of beautiful dresses with slightly shaky hands, I realise that Maria is a size smaller than me and that I’ll only just be able to squeeze into a small selection of the dresses and won’t be able to wear any underwear for fear of terrible visible panty line. I’ll just have to go without.
I smile to myself, wondering what Sandro would say. Knowing him, he’d probably love the idea of it.
It’s funny, but I would never even have considered doing something like that before I met him. His influence seems to have given me more confidence than I’d ever imagined possible.
Half an hour later I walk into the living room to find him waiting there for me, dressed in a beautifully cut tux and looking as stunning as ever. My breath catches in my throat and every nerve in my body gives a little wiggle of joy at the sight of him.
‘Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy,’ he growls, his eyes roving over my body, taking in the sleeveless, floor-length, gold lamé evening gown that flows over the curves of my body and forms a fishtail skirt at the bottom, making me look like a mermaid fresh from the sea. The slit, which is cut to mid-thigh, opens to reveal a tantalising flash of leg as I walk towards him. I’ve left my hair down, as requested, and it hangs down my back in soft waves.
And I feel it—sexy—I really do. For the first time in my life. And I realise that it’s not because I’ve had sex but because I’ve finally started to feel comfortable in my own skin. To like and appreciate my body for all the wonderful things it can do and the ways it can make me feel.
He strides towards me, his eyes intent on mine. ‘Look what you’ve done to me.’
I gasp as he wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me against him so I can feel the hardness I’ve magically conjured.
Desire twists through me, amplifying my nerve endings into tight strands of need.
I feel his heartbeat against my chest and breathe in the alluring fresh scent of him.
‘We should go,’ I say hurriedly, before I give in to my cravings and encourage him to strip off the dress I’ve only just managed to put on.
Sandro
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s fuckingmesmerising. There are plenty of beautiful women in the grand ballroom of the hotel, but I’m totally uninterested in checking anyone else out. They have absolutely no draw for me. It’s Juno I want to look at, to be with, no one else. She’s cast a spell over me with her kindness and compassion, her intelligence and drive. Her purity of heart.
I notice a bank of photographers on the other side of the room from where we’re standing and slip my arm around Juno’s waist, guiding her away from them. I don’t want those vultures wrecking her mood. She seems so happy to be here. Every time I look at her she has a wide, brilliant smile on her face, which makes me smile in return. I wonder whether I’ve had anything to do with that. I hope so.
I suspect it’s more about what she’s discovered about herself recently, though—that’s she as beautiful and sexy as I’ve been telling her she is. I think she’s finally beginning to believe me.
A waiter glides by and I let go of her to reach for two glasses of wine, handing one of them to her.
‘We should celebrate,’ I murmur, staring into her deep-blue eyes and getting a little lost in the warmth I see there.
‘What are we celebrating?’ she murmurs back.
‘You.’
‘Me?’ She looks confused.
‘Yeah, you. For finally breaking out of your chrysalis and becoming a butterfly.’ I cringe a little at how cutesy that sounds, but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think she quite likes the idea of it.
‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ she says, sliding her hand up to cup my jaw and draw me towards her for a kiss. As soon as our lips meet I feel a rushing sensation all over my body. It’s not just lust. It’s something deeper than that. Something new and frightening.
‘So now you can go back to your lecturer guy and seduce the Y-fronts off him,’ I joke, trying to throw off the disconcerting way I’m feeling. But even as I say this I’m hoping she’ll laugh at the idea of that. Tell me she’s changed her mind about Adam—that she wants to stay with me, to continue whatever it is we’ve started here.
My stomach lurches when she just nods, smiles and says, ‘I don’t think he’s the Y-fronts-wearing type. He strikes me as more of a boxer shorts kind of guy.’ There’s a faraway look in her eyes, as if she’s picturing him right now, standing in front of her with a hard-on and a smile.
I feel sick.
I want to say something disparaging about him—point out that the guy doesn’t deserve her if he hasn’t taken the time to figure out what an amazing woman she is—but before I can formulate the words I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see an old school friend of mine grinning back at me.
‘Francesco!’ I say, giving him a jovial slap on the back. ‘Come va?’
‘Bene,’he replies, returning my friendly greeting. ‘Good to see you. I thought you were in London now?’ He glances towards Juno and I turn to look at her too. She’s gazing at him in fascination. Now, Francesco is a handsome guy, I’ll admit that, but I don’t think he warrants that much fucking adoration. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention as she flashes him a smile.
