Her friend frowned and shook her head, staring at her in the mirror. “Maybe he doesn’t recognize you. Pete Beckett never would have sucked on Prudence Trueheart’s fingers.” A bemused expression settled on Ellie’s face. “Sam’s never sucked on my fingers.”
“Well, it feels good. And what’s wrong with enjoying the moment? Who could it hurt?”
Ellie wrapped her arm around Nora’s shoulders. “I know how nice it is to feel wanted. And it’s been a long time since you’ve been with a man. But a one-night stand with Pete Beckett is not going to help matters.”
“It’s been three years,” Nora said. “If you don’t count Stuart.”
Stuart Anderson was Nora’s landlord and closest male friend. For the past three years, Stuart had been her escort to all her mother’s high-society parties and fund-raisers. Celeste Pierce fancied Stuart as a son-in-law. With his impeccable manners and smooth social skills, he’d fit right in with Celeste’s crowd.
“I like Stuart,” Ellie said. “He’s safe and dependable. Not like Pete Beckett. Why don’t you sleep with him?”
“Stuart is gay,” Nora replied. “I don’t think he’ll be sucking my fingers anytime soon.” A deep sigh slipped from her lips. It wasn’t just the sex that she longed for with a man. She wanted all the simple sensations that went with it. The wonderful feel of a man’s weight on her body, the smooth skin and the hard muscle beneath her palms. The narrow hips that fit so perfectly between her legs and the heady awareness of his body moving inside hers. She wanted to experience all that just once more before she died—or turned thirty! And she was about to throw away her one and only chance.
“If I wanted to have a one-night stand, this would be the perfect opportunity,” Nora said. “I can just disappear from his life as if I never existed. He won’t even have to take the trouble to give me his usual brush-off. And better yet, I know him and so do you. He’s not some deranged psycho or an escaped ax murderer. I don’t have to worry about my safety.”
Ellie shook her head. “Nora, please, don’t—”
“I can control my emotions,” she said. “I’m a big girl, Ellie. I know what I’m doing.”
“But what about your heart?” Ellie asked. “Can you promise that you won’t have feelings for him later on?”
“Of course I won’t. He’s Pete Beckett. And I’m—well, you know who I am. I’m Prudence Trueheart and I couldn’t possibly fall in love with a man like him.” Nora drew a ragged breath, then forced a smile. “Maybe you’re worried if he realizes I’m Prudence Trueheart, he’ll be so repulsed he won’t want to kiss me or touch me.”
“No! Honey, I’m just saying this is a dangerous game you’re playing and if you let it go on, the only one who stands to get hurt is you. Remember, he’s the expert here and you’re just a…rookie.”
Nora cursed inwardly, impatient with Ellie’s pleas. “All right,” she said, flipping on the faucet to wash her hands. “I’m not going to let it go any further. I’ll go back out there and tell him I’m going home with you. And that will be the end of it.”
Ellie nodded and squeezed Nora’s shoulder. “Now you’re talking sensibly. After all, he’s bound to guess who you are when you…well, if you get intimate. Or when he sobers up, whichever comes first.”
Nora tossed the paper towel in the wastebasket, then walked to the door. But she stopped before walking out. Maybe Ellie was right. Objectively, she never would have recommended what she was contemplating—a single night of passion, a one-night stand. But she was sick to death of thinking like Prudence. For once, she wanted to break all the rules—and damn the consequences.
“All right,” she repeated softly. “I’m just going to say goodbye and then we can leave.” As she opened the bathroom door, she glanced over her shoulder at her friend, who was bending to remove the toilet paper from between her toes. “You’re a very good nag. If I ever leave the Herald, I’m going to recommend you for the job as Prudence. You’re beginning to sound more like her than I do!”
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