Danielle Steel - Fine things

“I know, I've often thought of things like that. I just never thought it would happen to me.” She smiled at him, and they ate duck and salad and souffle, and then they moved into the bar, where he ordered champagne, and they sat listening to the piano and chatting as they had for weeks now, sharing opinions and ideas and hopes and dreams. It was the most beautiful evening she had had in a long, long time, and being with him made up for everything bad that had ever happened to her, her parents' death, the nightmare with Chandler Scott, and the long lonely years alone since Jane's birth, with no one to help her out or be there for her. And suddenly none of it mattered now that she was with him. It was as though all her life had been in preparation for this man who was so good to her now, and absolutely nothing else mattered.

After their champagne, when he had paid the check, they walked slowly upstairs hand in hand, and she was about to stroll outside when he directed her through the hotel instead, guiding her gently by the arm, but she didn't think anything of it, until he walked her to the elevators and looked down at her with a small, boyish smile, barely concealed by his beard.

“Want to come upstairs for a drink?” She knew what he was up to, and that he didn't live there, but it seemed romantic somehow, and a little mischievous at the same time. He had whispered the words to her and she answered him with a smile.

“As long as you promise not to tell my mother.” It was only ten o'clock and she knew they still had three hours.

The elevator rose to the top floor, and Liz followed him to a door directly across the hall without saying a word. He took a key from his pocket and let her inside. It was the most beautiful suite she had ever seen, in a movie or real life, or ever even dreamed of. Everything was white and gold, and done in delicate silks, with fine antiques everywhere, and a chandelier which sparkled over them. The lights were dim, and there were candles burning on a table with a platter of cheese and fruit, and a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket.

Liz looked over at him with a smile, bereft of words at first. He did everything with such style, and he was always so thoughtful. “You're amazing, Mr. Fine … do you know that?”

“I thought if this was going to be our honeymoon, we ought to do it right.” And he had. One couldn't possibly have done it better. The lights were dim in the other room as well. He had rented the suite himself at lunchtime, and he had come upstairs before picking her up to make sure that everything looked right. He had the maid open the bed for them, and there was a beautiful pink peignoir laid out, trimmed in marabou with pink satin slippers to match, and a pink satin nightgown. She discovered it as she walked into the other room, and she gave a little gasp as she saw the beautiful things laid out on the bed, as though they were waiting for a movie star, and not just little old Liz O'Reilly from Chicago.

She said as much to him and he took her in his arms. “Is that who you are? Little old Liz O'Reilly from Chicago? Well, what do you know …and pretty soon you'll be little old Liz Fine from San Francisco.” He kissed her hungrily, and his kisses were answered as he laid her gently on the bed and pushed the peignoir aside. It was the first chance they had had to sate their hunger for each other, and three weeks of desire swept over them like a tidal wave as their clothes melted into a heap on the floor, covered by the pink satin peignoir trimmed in marabou, as their bodies intertwined and her mouth covered every inch of his body. She made every dream he'd ever had come true, and he dazzled her with the heights of passion they reached as they gasped for each other, wanting more and more and more until they lay spent at last, sleepy-eyed, in the dim room, her head on his shoulder, as he played with the long blond hair that hung over her like a satin curtain.

“You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen … do you know that?”

“You're a beautiful man, Bernie Fine …inside and out.” Her voice was suddenly husky, and she looked into his eyes lovingly and then suddenly burst out laughing when she saw what he had left under her pillow. It was a black lace garter belt with a red rosette and she held it aloft now like a trophy, and then kissed him and they began all over again once she put it on for him. It was the most beautiful night either of them had ever spent, and it was long after one o'clock when they sat in the bathtub in the hotel, and he played with her nipples amidst the soap suds.

“We're never going to get out of here if you start that again.” She smiled sleepily, leaning her head against the luxurious pink marble. She had wanted to call the sitter to tell her they would be late, but Bernie had finally told her he had taken care of it, and Liz had actually blushed when he told her. “You paid her off?” She giggled at the thought.

“I did.” He looked pleased and Liz kissed him.

“I love you so much, Bernie Fine.” He smiled and more than ever he wanted to spend the night with her, but he knew they couldn't, and he was already sorry that he had suggested they get married after Christmas. He couldn't imagine waiting that long, but thinking of it reminded him of the one thing he had forgotten.

“Where are you going?” She looked up in surprise as he climbed out of the tub with soap all over him.

“I'll be right back.” She watched him go. He had a powerful body with broad shoulders and long, graceful legs. It was a body that appealed to her, and she could feel desire gnawing at the pit of her stomach as she watched him, and she lay back in the tub with her eyes closed, waiting for him to return again. He was back only a moment later, and he slid a hand down low over her stomach as he slid back into the water, and before he had a chance to give her what he had brought from the other room, his fingers traveled to where her legs joined and he was exploring her again, his mouth hungry on her lips as, with his other hand, he touched her. They made love this time in the tub, and the sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the pink marble bathroom.

“Shh,” she whispered afterwards, giggling. “They're going to throw us out of here.”

“Either that or sell tickets.” He hadn't felt this good in years and he didn't want it to end. Ever. He had never known another woman like her. And neither of them had made love to anyone in a long, long time, so their hunger was well spent on each other. “By the way, I brought you something before you attacked me.”

“I attacked you …ha!” But she glanced over her shoulder in the direction he was looking. Being with him was like celebrating Christmas every day and she wondered what he was going to surprise her with now …peignoirs …and garter belts and …He had left a shoe box on the side of the tub, and when she opened it, there was a pair of gaudy gold slippers inside with large rhinestones all over them. She laughed, not sure if he was serious or not. “Are these hand-me-downs from Cinderella?” They were actually very tacky and she wasn't quite sure why he had given them to her, but he was looking amused as he watched her. They had huge cube-shaped hunks of glass glued on all over them, and one of them even had a huge rhinestone dangling from the gold bow. “My God!” she gasped, suddenly realizing what he had done. “My God!” She stood straight up in the tub and stared down at him. “Bernie …No! You can't do this!” But he had, and she had seen it. He had carefully pinned a huge diamond engagement ring to one of the gaudy gold bows, and at first it just appeared to be one more ghastly rhinestone like the others. But she had seen the ring, and she was crying as she held the slipper, and he stood up quietly and unpinned it for her. Her hands were shaking too badly, and there were tears pouring down her cheeks as he slipped it on her finger. It was more than eight carats, a simple emerald-cut stone, and the most beautiful ring he had ever seen when he bought it. “Oh, Bernie …” She clung to him as they stood in the bathroom, and he stroked her hair and kissed her, and after he had gently washed the soap off her, and himself, he carried her to the bed in the other room, and made love to her again …this time more gently …slowly … it was like singing in a whisper … or doing a slow delicate dance, moving gracefully together until they could no more, and then he held her close to him as she shuddered with delight and he rose to his own heights beside her.