“Let’s go in.”
It wasn’t until the chilled wine arrived in its silver cooler and the food had been ordered that Elyssa felt able to broach the subject of Jay.
“Patrick,” she said huskily, breaking into his nervous chatter about surgery and city living. “You haven’t asked me about how it went with Jay yesterday.”
“Do we have to talk about him?” he asked, taking a sip of wine in affected nonchalance.
“He was your best friend.” The mild reproach in Elyssa’s voice made Patrick frown, then put down his glass heavily, a cloud of realisation passing over his brow.
“Oh, I see,” he said dully. “The best man has already won, has he? Or rather, the first man to the winning post. Right?”
“Patrick, I should have told you from the start. I’m sorry. Perhaps I should go…”
“No.” Patrick’s rebuttal of the suggestion was so forceful that several diners looked over in curiosity. “You shouldn’t go. Stay. You promised me a date, and you’re going to deliver on that promise. And you’re going to give me the same chance you gave Jay. That’s the deal.”
“But Jay and I—”
“Whatever is between you and Jay, you have to hear me out. You have to give me the opportunity to sway you. Let me try and sway you. I fully understand that I will probably fail, and if I do, I’ll ask nothing more of you. But at least give me this night.”
Elyssa, impressed by the anguished sincerity of his words, shrank back into her chair. “All right,” she said. “We’ll have our date. But I do love Jay—”
“You love me too,” said Patrick, and the calm, confident way he said it made Elyssa realise that it was true. “You love us both. What if you could have us both?”
“Don’t be…I can’t have you both. That’s greedy.”
“Be greedy. Be greedy with life. Grab all the happiness you can. Just for today, imagine that you can have whatever you want. You can have whatever you want. Name it and it shall be yours.”
Elyssa stared, and noticed the waiter from the corner of her eye, allowing her to release a breath and dissipate a little of the high tension. “Well, just now, what I want is that crayfish salad,” she said. And now he expects me to eat. After telling me that I can have him even though I’ve already slept with Jay. I can’t, though…can I?
Elyssa found herself unable to eat much of the superb meal. She eschewed pudding in favour of a stroll around the manor’s substantial grounds with Patrick, the moon now out and illuminating them as if by her suitor’s personal request.
“Did you order this moonlight?” asked Elyssa jokingly, thinking all the same that it was perfect—too perfect to resist.
“Yes, I did. Moonlight, roses, fine food and wine and…oh, you’re going to hate me.”
“Why?” Elyssa stopped abruptly, turning to study his face, which was alight with suppressed mischief.
“Elyssa, would you kill me if I told you I’d reserved a room in the manor?”
She let her mouth drop open. “Maybe not kill you. Maybe give you a hearty slap round your presumptuous chops though!”
“Go on then. I deserve it.” Patrick stood dramatically straight and still, offering one flawless cheek to Elyssa. “Aren’t you going to slap me?” he asked after a while.
“I should. I’m not a violent person, though.”
“But you are a passionate one. I want to see your passion. Come on. Hit me.”
“Are you doing this to get one over on Jay? Is it all about the competition?”
“Fuck Jay! Oh, excuse me. You’ve already done that.”
Elyssa, torn and conflicted to the point of torment by her competing lovers, let her arm swing through the evening air and her palm connect, with a ringing slap, to Patrick’s cheek.
“That’s it!” he shouted jubilantly, grasping her wrist in a strong hand. “Fire! Passion! Everything you bottled up for years. Bring it out, Elyssa. Give it to me.”
Then they were kissing, hard, up against the plinth of a statue, hands all over, bodies bumping and crashing, Patrick’s solid chest blocking Elyssa’s heaving bosom so that she had to fight him as part of the embrace. Their tongues battled until the lovers lost their breath and Patrick took advantage of Elyssa’s capitulation to take her hand and run with her across the lawns to the reception area, where he claimed the key to his room and dragged her upstairs behind him.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he muttered, fumbling with the lock and pushing her against the door as soon as it was shut, continuing the grimly purposeful work his kiss had started with the addition of hands and thrusting pelvis. Elyssa clung to his neck for dear life, drinking in all the torrents of his desire this evening had released, accepting them into her body and converting them into her own delirious lusts. Handsome Patrick, after whom all the girls had languished, wanting her, and only her, so badly that he had taken a string of gambles—so badly that he would forget everything that had passed just to hold her for that one shining moment.