assumed she was, who could perform all sorts of exciting gymnastics in bed?
In her head, she balanced the scales.
Alarm and disappointment with her if he found out that he was dealing with someone who might not live up to expectation...versus her embarrassment at having to come clean and tell him the truth about the marriage into which she should never have entered...
Which in turn would lead her down all sorts of uncertain routes. Because how else could she explain away her mistake without letting him know just how much she had felt for him all those years ago, how deeply she had fallen in love with him?
And, in turn, would that lead him to start thinking that she might just go and do the same again, after he had issued his warnings and told her that this was just sex and nothing more—no romance, no courtship and certainly no repeat performance of what they had once had?
‘I’ve never done this before.’ She couldn’t face the embarrassment of him pulling away, appalled that he had mistaken her for someone else, someone who might prove to be fun in bed instead of a novice waiting to be taught, guided only by instinct.
It took a few seconds for Javier to register what she had just said and he paid attention to her words only because of the tone in which they had been spoken.
He was still confused, though, as he pulled back to stare down at her.
‘You mean you’ve never had a one-night stand with an ex-flame?’
‘No.’ Face flaming with embarrassment, she wriggled into a sitting position and drew the duvet cover protectively over her, suddenly shy in the face of his probing dark eyes.
‘What, then?’ He had never talked so much in bed with any woman. Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. ‘Do I need to get dressed to sit this one out?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘What I’m asking is...is this going to be a long conversation involving more confidence sharing? Should I make myself a pot of tea and settle down for the long haul?’
‘Why do you have to be so sarcastic?’ Sophie asked, stung.
‘Because,’ Javier pointed out coolly, ‘this should be a simple situation, Sophie. Once upon a time, there was something between us. Now there isn’t—aside, that is, from the small technicality that we never actually made it past the bedroom door. Indeed, we never made it even near the bedroom door. So here we are, rectifying that oversight before going our separate ways. I’m not sure that there’s anything much to talk about because it’s not one of those getting to know you exercises.’
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